Authors note: I want to thank you all for reviewing and reading the last chapter. Hearing your opinions means a lot and they also help if I need to edit or make something better.
Any way, welcome to a brand new chapter of the firebird, in this one we will see more of what's going on in Elsa's mind as this is her story for the most part, it is complicated as it is hard being a queen, sometimes that makes making decisions even harder for sometimes what seems right at first is not always right. But it might lead to either a huge character development or a huge disaster... I am not saying which of the two.
For now please enjoy this latest chapter and please review when done as again I love to hear your opinions and so forth.
Ever since the excursion and their talk together, the relationship between Elsa and the Firebird had improved considerably. He had become less sarcastic towards her, and she, less dismissive towards him. As time passed, the barrier between them gradually dissipated, and eventually, they grew to trust and respect each other.
Encouraged by the Firebird, Elsa began to step out of the castle more often and explore her kingdom. She did her best to interact with her subjects and take part in public functions. And wherever she went, the Firebird would follow. It was a sight most peculiar – the queen of Arendelle parading in her carriage, all the while accompanied by a strange yet magnificent bird with resplendent feathers of red and gold.
And whenever anyone would ask her about her "pet", she would simply shake her head and say that the Firebird was not a pet but her fiancé.
Although hearing such words made the Firebird immensely happy, he could not help but wonder if Elsa was merely forcing herself to say it. They were definitely spending more time together, and it was clear that a genuine friendship had blossomed between them, but could Elsa ever feel for him what he truly felt for her? His future sight seemed to indicate "yes", but as some details were obscured, even that could not really dictate the final outcome of their romance.
Still, it couldn't hurt to hope. The budding amity he shared with Elsa was definitely a step up from the mercurial relationship they had before, and if H.C. had been here to witness it, he would have definitely encouraged Hans to nurture that friendship.
'That old romantic,' he mused, chuckling lightly at the memories of his very first friend…
The Southern Isles, years ago…
After helping out the sick girl and her family, Hans once again resumed his quest to return home. He flew as fast as he could, eager to make his way back to Westergaard Castle. He had to talk to Lars. If anyone could help him break the curse and resume his original form, his best chances lay with the bookish third prince who had a keen interest in history and the occult.
As his stamina had not quite recovered from his previous sojourn, he soon found himself losing altitude. Fortunately, a chimney was within sight, and it was as good a place as any for a quick rest stop. However, he was descending far too quickly and he wound up overshooting the chimney rim.
Hans could feel his bones rattling as he tumbled down the chimney chute for the second time in twenty-four hours. Worse still, compared to the well-maintained castle chimney, this one was absolutely filthy, caking him in soot and ash.
He landed on an ash heap with one final yelp, catching the attention of that room's occupant – a lanky, young man in his late teens.
"Who's there?" he called, poking his head into the fireplace. Just then, he spotted Hans squirming on the ground. "Hmm…? A bird?" he murmured, scooping him out of the ash heap. "How odd…"
'Wonderful… Out of the frying pan and into the fire…' Hans grumbled, silently praying that the young man had no intention of keeping him as a pet, or worse, turn him into food. Given how skinny the youth was, it would be no surprise if he chose the latter option. Not wanting to be served as dinner, Hans immediately began flapping with all his might, even going as far as to peck the young man's fingers.
"Hey! Ow!" he yelped as he swallowed his pain to hold on to the struggling birdling. "Hold still you crazy bird!" With quick decisive steps, he strode over to his desk and set Hans down.
"You know, for such a little bird you sure do have a lot of energy," the youth remarked, poking Hans in the stomach, much to the latter's annoyance. He did not like being poked and prodded at as if he was some kind of unnatural oddity.
"And I have just begun to fight!" Hans declared, only to realize that he had committed a grave error. He immediately snapped his beak shut, but it was too late. The youth's expression quickly shifted from that of amusement to that of abject terror.
"Gah! Demon bird!" he cried, scrambling backwards as he frantically reached for anything that could be used as a weapon.
"Wait! Wait!" Hans called, "I'm not a demon – Yee-ow!" He ducked, barely dodging the book the man threw at him.
"S-stay back! I'm warning you," the man sputtered, brandishing a battered, cast-iron frying pan. "I've got a skillet and I'm not afraid to use it!"
"And I'm telling you, I'm not a demon bird!" Hans repeated. To prove his point, he shook the soot off his body, revealing the vibrant red and gold feathers.
The young man hesitantly lowered his makeshift weapon, but remained wary nonetheless. "So what are you then?" he asked, "Given how you can speak, you are certainly no ordinary bird."
"It's a long story," Hans replied, sighing, "And even if I told you, I don't think you'd believe me… Why, I don't even know what kind of bird I am."
"Even so, you seem to be quite the specimen," said the young man, his curiosity getting the better of him. "I've never seen anything quite like it." Bit by bit, he drew closer. "Say, you don't mind if I take a closer look, do you? I have some books on birds that might help us figure out what you could be."
"That's fine," Hans answered, "As long as you don't poke at me again."
"Sounds fair… …erm…?"
"Hans," the bird-prince supplied.
The young man gave a low whistle. "Well, isn't that a coincidence? My name is Hans too – Hans Christian Andersen. But my friends usually call me H.C."
"The up-and-coming author?" Hans squeaked, "Oh, I've heard so much about you! People say you're one of the few who were foolhardy enough to insult the King and Queen of the Southern Isles with your less-than-flattering review of Westergaard Castle."
"Well, it's the truth," H.C. said with a disgusted sniff as he put the frying pan back in its rightful place. "Something's just not quite right with the place, and even looking at it gives me this sense of foreboding." He then grabbed a pitcher of water and poured its contents into a chipped bowl. "Here," he said, pushing the bowl towards Hans, who stared at it curiously.
"What's this for?" he asked.
"To wash up, of course," H.C. told him, "There's still a lot of soot on you."
"Oh… Thank you."
While Hans washed off the remaining dirt and ash, H.C. went over to the bookshelf and picked out several tomes. "Peculiar indeed," he murmured, thumbing through the pages. "You don't seem to resemble any of the European species listed here. Is it possible that you could be from a land far away?"
"I'd hate to disappoint, but I'm a South Islander, born and bred," Hans replied, shaking his now-clean feathers dry. "I'm just about as European as they come."
"Maybe, you're an undiscovered species of hawk or eagle," H.C. suggested.
"At this size and color?" Hans scoffed, "Doubt it…"
"And with those claws and beak, a songbird you're not," H.C. pointed out. He opened yet another book. "Not a passerine, not a raptor… Just what on earth are you…?"
A frustrated cry startled the Firebird out of his reverie and brought him back to the present. It sounded like Elsa. He sighed.
'I told her not to overexert herself,' he grumbled. 'When will that girl ever learn?'
"Ugh!" Elsa rubbed at her temples in frustration. Lately, the Firebird had been occupying her thoughts, making it difficult to properly focus on her work. While she had come to appreciate his company, she could not help but feel a strong sense of unease at the very thought of them being husband and wife. Moral issues aside, there was the fact that they were of two completely different species, making the possibility of heirs completely moot.
However, she also could not say that he was completely undesirable. He had been nothing but helpful, and his advice was indispensable. Because of him, she had learned to open up her mind, to be more adventurous, and to take risks and broaden her horizons. Had he been human, she most definitely would not have any objections on their union.
'If only…'
"Ever heard of taking a good night's sleep? I heard it could do wonders."
Elsa glanced up to see the Firebird smirking at her as he dropped a sheaf of papers onto her desk.
"The same could be said of you," she retorted lightly, casting him a dry look as she took the proffered documents. "After all I'm not the one who works all the way into daybreak."
He shrugged. "I did say it was bitter work. So, what do you think of this proposal on public education and the regulation of child labor?"
"Not too shabby," she remarked as she skimmed over the writings. "If I didn't know any better I would say that you were born to lead."
"No one is born to anything," said the Firebird, "We learn and gain skills by experiencing life. These experiences then influence our thoughts, our goals, and even our personalities, until it molds us into who we are today." He yawned. "Anyway, I'll be turning in for the night, and for the sake of your health, I suggest that you do the same."
"Wait!" Elsa called, stopping him in mid-flight.
"Yes, what is it?"
The young queen could feel her heart racing a mile a minute. The imminent future of becoming the Firebird's wife still did not quite sit well with her, but she had promised to wed him. And even if he was a bird, even if she harbored no romantic feelings towards him, she truly appreciated his company. Then again, in retrospect, any marriage built on platonic love and mutual respect was clearly a better option than a loveless one to some arrogant princeling who only wanted her for her wealth and status.
It was now or never. She reached into her skirt pocket and pulled out a small velvet box. Slowly, she lifted the lid to reveal a simple gold band adorned by a solitary gem. "I know it's rather plain and it isn't much, but it's special to me," she mumbled, her slender fingers fiddling with the box. "It was my father's after all," she added as an afterthought.
The Firebird could not believe his eyes. "You don't mean–"
The blonde nodded. "You have given me a most beautiful ring and more, so it's only fitting that I do the same." With gentle hands, she took his left foot and slipped the ring onto his middle toe. "Well I'll be…" she quipped, smiling playfully at him, "It actually suits you."
"Oh Elsa…" The Firebird was practically beside himself with joy. "Thank you," he whispered, his voice shaky with sheer elation, "I shall treasure it always. And know that if I ever lose this ring, it will not be out of my own free will."
"As you are my husband-to-be, I trust that you won't," she said, inwardly tamping down the bile rising to her throat as she uttered those words.
The Firebird beamed. "For someone as lovely and gracious as you to become my wife, I really am the luckiest fellow in the world."
"Thanks…" She smiled again, but this time it did not quite reach her eyes. Already, she could feel the guilt gnawing at the pit of her stomach.
She hated the idea of leading the Firebird on – she really did, as she had come to see him as a dear friend. But at the same time her betrothal was key for the security of her royal claim and the betterment of her country. This agreement was supposed to be a win-win situation, so why did she feel like everyone just lost?
A few days later…
"And one, two, three… One, two, three…" said the Firebird as he guided Kristoff and Anna through the steps of yet another court dance. In order to prepare him for his debut into high society and endear him to the other nobles, Elsa had recommended that Kristoff should, at the very least, take up some activities that were enjoyed by the aristocracy. So far, the result of every attempt had been mediocre at best.
"Good job, you two!" the Firebird commended, once the song ended. "There's definitely been an improvement in your form."
But instead of looking happy, Kristoff and Anna exchanged concerned glances before turning their attention back to him.
"Are you sure?" inquired the princess, "Because I must've tripped several times, and Kristoff wouldn't stop stepping on my toes throughout the dance."
"Sorry…" Kristoff mumbled sheepishly. "But Anna has a point" he added, turning to face the Firebird. "You've been rather out of it these last few days."
Green eyes blinked. "Oh. I guess I have been somewhat preoccupied…"
"Somewhat?" Kristoff began, only to be elbowed into silence by his fiancée.
"Nonetheless, I apologize," said the Firebird as he followed the duo towards the sitting room for their afternoon tea.
"By the way," Anna piped up, eyeing his toe. "I couldn't help but notice a little something– Is that what I think it is?"
"Oh, this?" he asked, gazing at the ring with a tender, love-struck smile. "It's Elsa's betrothal gift. Do you like it?"
"It's lovely," she replied, "But this is pretty big news, considering this is Elsa we're talking about."
He cocked his head, staring at her confusedly. "What do you mean?"
"If you've noticed, Elsa isn't exactly one to let just anyone close," Anna explained. "In fact, it took her the better part of two months just to warm up to Kristoff, so for you to be able to get so close to her in such a short span of time is nothing short of a miracle.
"And then there's the matter of that," she went on, pointing at his ring. "Between the two of us, Elsa has always been the closest to Papa, so if you're wearing his ring, that means she's accepted you as her husband!"
Kristoff raised his brow. "Wasn't that already a given when Elsa announced her betrothal to him?"
"No, no!" Anna clarified, waving her hands frantically, "You don't understand… When Papa gave her that ring on her eighteenth birthday, he made her promise to give it to her husband-to-be, and to him alone."
"I didn't know that," said the Firebird, lifting his claw, the jewel twinkling as he did. "Well, that just gives me an even stronger reason as to why I shouldn't take it off."
It was as plain as day that the Firebird really loved Elsa It was evident in how he spoke to her, cared for her, supported her, and even how he looked at her. Any other woman would be have the devil's luck to have her fiancé dote on her so, so Elsa was really blessed in that aspect.
But at the same time, Anna could not help but worry for them both. As nice as Elsa's gesture was, the younger Solberg could not help but wonder if her older sister was being completely sincere. She loathed to think of Elsa as anything but, but something did not quite add up. Not too long ago, she had been vehemently and vocally opposed to the idea of marrying a bird, so why was she suddenly changing her tune?
Then again, it was also quite possible that Elsa was finally starting to develop some feelings towards the Firebird, as evidenced by their growing friendship. And given how much effort he had put in the courtship, it was only a matter of time until he broke through her defenses and reached her heart.
'So which is it?' She glimpsed over at the Firebird, who was now laughing with Kristoff over some unknown joke. He looked so lighthearted, so hopeful that even the mere suggestion of Elsa faking her love could prove to be a devastating blow. She lightly chewed her lip. 'Elsa… For his sake and yours, I really hope that you do mean this gesture.'
To be continued...
Beta and cover image: Nightrain and Brownstone
Authors note: Things are getting more and more intense as events will be more serious from this point on. What will happen? I cannot say for it will be a huge spoiler.
I hope you all enjoyed this latest chapter, please stay tuned for the next one and please leave a review as your opinions and comments are most helpful and appreciated.