Adult-FanFiction.org : Cartoons

In the Light of Day: A Frozen Epic	By : GeorgeGlass Category: +1 through F > Frozen Views: 21531 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I claim no ownership of Frozen or its characters. I made no money from writing this story. I am completely divided about whether Elsa or Anna is hotter.

Chapter List
- 18
- 19
- 20
Chapter 19: The Princess

Even as the Minister backed Anna against the door, the Princess asked, “W- Where did you learn to use a sword like that?”

“I suppose,” the Minister replied, “you didn’t know that I was one of the first women to join the Castle Guard. Still one of the only ones.”

“No,” Anna said, the wheels in her head spinning rapidly. “I didn’t know that. I don’t know why, though; a woman in the Guard would be kind of a big deal.”

“Yes, well,” the Minister said, a bit of huffiness seeping into her saccharine tone, “perhaps the subject would have gotten more attention if your grandfather, King Marius, hadn’t become embroiled in a sex scandal the very day I enlisted.”

Anna only dimly remembered her grandfather, but she did remember hearing his whispered nickname: “Marius of the Wandering Eye.”

“Of course,” the Minister continued, “joining the Guard was just a way in. Before long, I managed to get assigned to the quartermaster’s office, where my talent with numbers could be noticed. And now, here I am.”

“In the perfect position,” Anna retorted, “to funnel Arendelle’s tax money to the Dianisians by making secret withdrawals from those supposedly sealed coffers. What did you do, make holes in the bottom with a drill?”

“A jeweler’s saw, actually. Makes a nice, neat opening that is easily resealed.”

“Clever. And I’m guessing you were the one who set up all those fake companies to export the ingredients for Greek fire to the Dianisians.”

“It’s not hard to do, when you have friends in both high and low places. Honestly, you and your sister have no idea what goes on in the dark underbelly of your pretty little kingdom.”

“And this prince-consort thing gave you the perfect opportunity to send a Dianisian spy after Elsa. Lucky.”

“Luck had nothing to do with it, my dear,” the Minister said, looking pleased with herself. “Who do you think first suggested inviting the princes here? ‘Producing an heir’ is so important for the Queen, after all.”

“But why do this?” Anna asked, just barely tamping down her outrage. “You’ve got a great career, power, respect...Why throw all that away by handing Arendelle over to another kingdom?”

“Power? Respect?” the Minister replied with equal measures of anger and irony. “All of my talent, my experience, my expertise mean nothing to you royals, no matter how evolved you think you’ve become. The Queen decides to send someone in her stead to the trade conference, but does she send a qualified negotiator, an expert in the kingdom’s finances? No—she sends her little sister.”

“She wants me to learn,” Anna replied, defensive in spite of herself.

“I’m sure,” the Minister said dismissively. “But I am quite finished being subject to the whims of lechers, fools, and children simply because they were born to the right parents.”

“Aegeus is a king, you know. How will living under his rule be any better?”

“In exchange for my efforts, he’s going to give me a title, and territory. I’ll be Duchess of the central lands, with enough autonomy that-” the Minister brought the tip of her sword up to Anna’s face “-I might as well be a queen.”

“Wow,” Anna said, her wide eyes focused on the sharp point before them. “You know, I never figured you for a traitor.”

The Minister smiled, clearly pleased to have fooled Anna along with the rest of the kingdom.

“But I did know that you hated me,” Anna went on. “The fact that you never call me ‘Highness,’ the way that you spit just a little whenever you say ‘Princess’...”

“You’re a symptom of the disease that plagues this land,” the older woman replied.

“And yet you’ve talked my ear off every chance you’ve had. Because even your hatred of me and my family is nothing compared to your massive ego. Even now, when you really shouldn’t be letting me stall you like this, you just can’t shut up.”

As the raw anger rose in the Minister’s eyes, Anna continued, “And you know what’s really going to grate your cheese? The fact that I’m about to have the last word. And that word is FISHBONE!”

Anna leaped to the side a split second before the door burst open behind her and four villagers armed with farming tools rushed in. As they surrounded the Minister, Kristoff came in behind them.

“You’re going to want to drop that sword, Minister,” Kristoff said. “These Big Elk Village Volunteers aren’t very happy about what you helped Otos do to their Queen.”

Fuming, the Minister dropped her weapon to the stone floor.

“You guys hear all that?” Anna said to the group.

“Every word,” Kristoff said. “Between me and these folks, there’s going to be plenty of ear-witness testimony when the Minister’s on trial for treason.”

As the four villagers tied the Minister’s hands, Kristoff took Anna aside.

“Was that really your plan?” he hissed. “Let her disarm you and then question her while she’s holding you at sword-point?”

“No, my plan was to get her at sword-point, march her downstairs, and then start the conversation when we got to the door.”

She took a deep, anxiety-releasing breath and added, “But sometimes, you’ve gotta improvise.”

***

Tomas and Olaf had been sneaking around the castle, trying to make themselves useful. On the second floor, just above the service entrance, they had found a barrel of linseed oil in a supply closet. When the enemy soldiers began flooding through the service gate, the boy and the snowman poured the entire contents of the barrel onto the stone stairs between the first and second floor, rendering them all but impassable.

Now, though, Dianisian soldiers were dropping their weapons left and right, and it looked like the battle was over. The clatter brought Tomas to a nearby window, where he watched some castle guards start lining up the defeated soldiers while others collected the dropped weaponry.

A man who looked like some kind of officer shouted through the gate to one of the guards.

“Sergeant! Have you seen or heard anything of Lord Otos? There is still a general order in effect for his arrest.”

“No, sir,” the sergeant replied. “There’s been no sign of him here. Word is he vanished before the battle was even over.”

Tomas turned to Olaf.

“I know where he’ll go,” the boy said. “Are you good at being sneaky?”

“Of course!” the snowman cried. “Nothing’s quieter than-!” He dropped his voice to a whisper. “Nothing’s quieter than snow.”

***

Hildy was glad the fighting was at an end. Tilde and Hjalmar, aided by Hildy’s distraction, had defeated most of the Dianisian platoon when the last two enemy soldiers, infuriated, came after Hildy. She had drawn her dagger to defend herself, but thankfully, she hadn’t needed to; Hjalmar ran up behind the two soldiers and was preparing to strike when he had one of his fainting spells and landed on them instead, pinning them beneath his unconscious body. The soldiers squirmed free only just as the horn blast of surrender was sounding, after which they promptly fled.

“Help me get him off the street,” Hildy said to Tilde as she tried to figure out the best way to move the large, passed-out Nordlander.

They each grabbed a leg and managed to drag the helmeted prince partway down the block. They were only a couple of doors down from their townhouse when Tilde suddenly let go of Hjalmar’s leg and straightened up, looking at something down the street.

“I have to go,” Tilde said as she began to hurry away.

“Oh, that’s fine,” Hildy replied. “I can move three hundred pounds of Viking by myself, no problem.”

When Tilde showed no sign of slowing, Hildy shouted after her, “That was sarcasm, you musclehead! Get back here and help me!”

But Tilde’s pace had accelerated from a fast walk to a run, and then she turned a corner and was out of sight.

“Fine,” Hildy grumbled. “Good thing I know a lot of guys with strong backs.”

***

Lord Otos hustled down the dirt road toward Tan Sands. The place was of no note whatsoever; it was largely a low-end fishing village, full of the unwashed. But its low profile made it useful as a place for Otos to purchase a small sailboat and, for a small fee and under an assumed name, keep it ready at the village’s only dock. It wouldn’t do to merely keep it anchored and then have to wade or swim out to it when and if he needed it.

Being a great devotee of contingency planning, Otos had decided weeks ago that if the invasion failed, he would not return to Dianisia, where the blame for the failure would no doubt be placed squarely on his shoulders. Otos might have been King Aegeus’ chief aide, but he was no longer the favorite, having been supplanted by a younger man who was even more silver-tongued than Otos.

He reached the shore end of the dock and began to walk down it toward his small getaway vessel. He was not entirely sure of his final destination yet, but there were many kingdoms where a man of his skills could find lucrative opportunities.

Suddenly, a small figure whizzed past him and then stopped, blocking his way.

“You’re not going anyplace,” said Tomas, brandishing the handsome dagger that he had worn as part of his princely disguise.

Otos chuckled.

“The real Prince Hypatios,” he replied, “might have the skill to harm me with that dagger.”

With snake-like quickness, Otos lunged diagonally forward, seized Tomas’ wrist, and twisted it painfully, forcing the boy to drop his weapon.

“But not you, I’m afraid, goat-boy,” Otos continued. “Whatever tricks you might have learned on the playground of your little dirt-village will not serve you here.”

Otos expected the boy to struggle, or perhaps beg for mercy. Instead, he did something very odd.

He smiled.

Suddenly the boy pushed against Otos, throwing the entire weight of his small body against the much taller man. It was a pitiful gesture of defiance, strong enough only to force Otos back by a single step.

But he couldn’t take that step. His leg tried to move back but was stopped by some sort of obstacle. And as Otos began to topple over backwards, he could see that the obstacle was the bizarre little carrot-nosed snowman, who had somehow managed to sneak up and drop to his hands and knees behind the Dianisian nobleman.

Otos tumbled off the dock into the chilly brown waters of the cove. A moment later he broke the surface, sputtering.

Suddenly, there was a sound like a single sung note as a sword was drawn. And just as suddenly, that sword’s point came to a stop millimeters from Otos’ throat.

“You burned down my father’s armory,” Tilde said, looking at Otos down the length of Ajay’s Sundaran blade. “So you would be wise to stay in the water until the guards come to arrest you. Otherwise, I might be forced to kill you in self-defense.”

Otos did not feel inclined to defy her.

***

Hjalmar’s eyes opened, and the big Nordlander was a bit startled to find himself indoors. Not being the easiest person to move while unconscious, he was accustomed to awakening wherever he had fallen after having one of his fainting spells.

He sat up rapidly when he realized that he was no longer wearing his armor, his family signet ring, or his helmet. But he hadn’t been robbed; the chainmail lay folded, with the helmet and ring on top of it, on a table adjacent to the sofa on which he was now sitting. This was clearly someone’s parlor.

“I’ve heard,” a woman’s voice said from somewhere behind him, “that there’s someone you miss very much.”

Hjalmar turned and saw Hildy, the buxom woman who had exposed herself to the Dianisian troops, enabling Hjalmar and the blonde swordswoman to ambush them. Because of that, and given how much she seemed to know, Hjalmar saw no point in lying to her.

“There is,” he answered.

Coming closer, Hildy asked, “And what would you give up to be with her?”

He couldn’t keep the desperation out of his voice as he answered, “Anything.” Then, almost in a whisper, he said, “Everything.”

Hildy came closer. In her hand was an old, worn cloak.

“Then put this on,” she said, tossing him the garment. “Your horse is tied up behind the house. If you ride straight north, you can reach the borderlands in less than a week, without having to cross into Nordland at all.”

The meaning of her words came to him slowly. This woman was offering him a chance to be with Gnissa. But perhaps she didn’t understand all the barriers that had prevented Hjalmar from accomplishing that himself.

“This...” he started, “...this won’t work. If I simply disappear, my parents will never stop looking for me.”

“The Queen,” Hildy replied, “will inform your royal mother and father of your heroic death on the battlefield.”

Hjalmar went silent for a moment. Then he said, “They will want my body sent back for burial.”

“They’ll get it. Burned beyond recognition, I’m afraid, but wearing your armor, your ring, and your helmet.”

Hjalmar stood up slowly as the implications sank in. He would indeed be giving up everything—his family, his wealth, his whole life. Yet the thought filled him with indescribable joy.

He pulled on the cloak.

“Thank you,” he said, his voice shaking. “How- How can I ever-”

“Make each other happy,” Hildy said. “That’s all the repayment I need.”

She walked to the rear entranceway to the parlor and pointed toward the door at the back of the house.

“Now go,” she said. “Keep your face hidden until you’re outside of town.”

Hjalmar couldn’t have said anything else if he’d wanted to. He pulled the hood of the cloak over his head, and went out the door.

***

Elsa was now at the Navy Dock, where a group of senior military officers and advisers from her cabinet had assembled to handle the Dianisians’ surrender. Rajiv and Ajay were there as witnesses, and Kristoff and Anna had also arrived and had told Elsa about the Treasury minister’s betrayal and arrest. Finally, a page had appeared with two things to tell the Queen: the news of Lord Otos’ capture, and an important piece of information from her Minister of Agriculture.

The Queen watched as Admiral Ostergard and several Arendellan Marines marched a short, swarthy man with a great many ribbons and insignia on his uniform to stand before her. The man eyed Elsa with a mix of fear and hostility.

“This,” Ostergard said, “is Admiral Stavros, commander of the Dianisian invasion force. We have brought him here to offer the formal surrender.”

“I am listening,” Elsa replied.

“Do whatever you like to me, witch,” the man said defiantly. “But-”

Suddenly, the point of Admiral Ostergard’s sword was at the enemy admiral’s throat.

“The proper form of address,” the Arendellan officer said, “is ‘your Highness.’”

“It’s all right, Admiral,” Elsa said. “Let him finish.”

The admiral lowered his sword.

“-but spare my men,” the Dianisian commander continued. “They were acting on my orders.”

“Your men will not be harmed,” the Queen replied. “They will be permitted to return home aboard your regular Navy ships. But,” Elsa added sharply, “you may tell King Aegeus that his Fire Fleet now belongs to Arendelle. We did pay for it, after all.”

“Yes…your Highness,” Stavros answered.

Elsa began to pace the dock in a manner both thoughtful and commanding.

“Over the next several years,” she continued, “we will expect additional reparations to be paid to compensate for the destruction your invasion has caused.”

The Dianisian admiral glowered at her, clearly wondering how his financially shipwrecked kingdom could possibly pay.

“To facilitate this process of repayment,” Elsa added, “during the next few months, we will send fifteen hundred healthy young goats to Dianisia to reinvigorate your kingdom’s economy.”

Anna, looking on, watched the Admiral’s expression transform from defiant anger to surprise bordering on shock. Then, as the information began to sink in, Anna could swear that tears were beginning to form in his eyes.

“That- That is most generous, your Highness.”

Suddenly, panicked shouts were heard from the far end of the harbor. Everyone looked and saw that one of the Fire Fleet ships had burst into flames. Men on the deck were running around, trying futilely to control the fire.

“Captain Konstantin,” Admiral Stavros growled, balling his fists; it was clear to Anna that Stavros had had problems with this particular officer in the past. “That insubordinate fool is scuttling his ship!”

The admiral looked desperately at Elsa as he said, “Please—if the fire reaches the storage tanks, everyone on that ship will die. And perhaps those on nearby ships, as well. If there is anything you can do to help them…”

Elsa looked to Rajiv. “Can you pull the fire away from the ship?”

The prince stretched out his hand toward the burning ship and concentrated. The flames flickered strangely, clearly influenced by Rajiv’s powers, but they did not diminish. Rajiv tried harder, squinting, beads of sweat forming on his brow, but to no avail. He dropped his hand.

“I am sorry,” he said. “The distance is too great. Perhaps with more practice I could do it...or perhaps not even then.”

“Then I’ll have to do it,” Elsa said.

“Elsa, don’t,” Kristoff said, his tone somewhere between firm and pleading. “You’ve used your powers too much already. You could die!”

“I don’t have to use much,” Elsa insisted. “I just have to focus.”

She looked at the burning ship. It seemed a thousand miles away.

“At least,” she said, forcing the despair out of her voice, “I have to try.”

“Let me help you,” Rajiv said.

He stood behind her and put his arm around her. Then he put his lips next to her ear.

“Just focus on the ship,” he said in a low voice. “Let your eyes rest there, and your mind, as well.”

She couldn’t help it—the moment she tried to concentrate on the ship, memories of Rajiv’s foundering ship and her failure to save it flashed through her mind. And then thoughts of her parents, and then-

“I can’t,” she said. “There are too many other thoughts in my head. I can’t block them out.”

“Do not try,” Rajiv said calmly. “Thoughts cannot be blocked out or pushed away, for this is not how the mind works. Instead, let the thoughts come. And then let them go.”

Elsa focused on the ship, and she let the thoughts flow as they wanted—the harbor, the storm, the news the night her parents died, all of it running through her mind…and then out. And now, there was quiet.

Slowly, she stretched out her hand, and the cries of panic from the ship’s crew became shouts of surprise as a sheet of ice began to spread over the deck, putting out the flames wherever it met them. The ice went all over the ship’s surface—across the deck, down the sides of the hull, up the masts, even down into the hold. By the time the ship was coated in ice, the flames were extinguished, and the sailors were cheering with relief.

Elsa’s body slackened, and Rajiv caught her. Others quickly gathered around and were relieved to see that the Queen was alive, if barely conscious.

“She’ll be all right,” Anna said. “She’s tougher than she looks.”

“You don’t have to tell me,” Kristoff said. “We should get her back to the castle.” He whistled for Sven.

Elsa opened her eyes and looked at her sister.

“Anna,” she said, smiling weakly. “When I was poisoned…you saved my life.”

“What? No,” Anna protested, her guilt from that moment in the parlor returning. “That was Kristoff, and Grand Pabbie, and Sven. I didn’t even go with you. Don’t you remember?”

“Here’s what I remember,” Elsa said. “I remember Grand Pabbie telling me that if I was to live, I needed to hold onto my life…by thinking of what I most wanted to live for.”

Elsa put a hand on Anna’s face as she said, “That was you, Anna. You’re my family, and my best friend, and I love you.”

Anna didn’t speak. She just grabbed Elsa and held her tight until Sven arrived and it was time to go.

END CHAPTER 19
- 18
- 19
- 20
You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

In the Light of Day: A Frozen Epic