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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
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Chapter 3: The Love Goddess

Grand Introductions were finally over, and Elsa, Anna, and Baron Herringholtz had retired to the first-floor parlor to discuss the seven would-be Prince-Consorts.

“Soooo,” Anna said cautiously, “what did you think of the princes?”

“Oh, Anna,” Elsa sighed, “this thing has only been underway for an hour, and it already feels like a fiasco.”

Anna looked sharply at Herringholtz. “Okay, Royal Matchmaker Guy, how did you set my sister up with this parade of lose- um, candidates?”

“Well…” Herringholtz said, “the Queen’s decision that her husband should be Prince-Consort, rather than King-“

“-is my business, Baron,” Elsa said sharply. She didn’t want that decision questioned—chiefly because she had made it in order to avoid the type of situation that her sister had fallen into with the villainous Prince Hans.

“Indubitably,” Herringholtz replied. “But because Prince-Consort is not a position that carries any real political power, and because it would require the chosen prince to live in Arendelle permanently, the sons that the royal families are most apt to send are, ah, how shall I put it…”

“The ones they don’t want back,” Elsa finished. She dropped her forehead into her hand.

“Oh, come on,” Anna said with a hopeful smile. “So maybe some of them are fixer-uppers. That pile of rocks has got to have at least one diamond in the rough. How about that Prince Rajiv?”

“Are you kidding?” Elsa cried. “He’s the worst of them all! He’s rude, ungrateful- Oh, and his ‘gift’ is obviously a ham-handed attempt to get Arendelle interested in buying Sundaran steel. I’d love to tell him exactly where to put his twenty bars of-”

“Okay, whoa,” Anna said, raising her palms. “He wasn’t that bad. And you weren’t exactly nice to him, either.”

“It is only your first meeting, Highness,” Herringholtz said. “Please try to keep an open mind. You will both have the opportunity to better get to know the candidates this evening at the welcome banquet.”

“Oh,” said Anna. “I…I didn’t realize I was invited.”

“Well, of course,” Herringholtz said. “You are the Queen’s only family. It is both your right and your duty to help her make the best choice of mate.”

Anna frowned. She needed to spend at least another hour reading if she was to have any hope of staying on the schedule she had set for herself, she was meeting a friend for tea at five o’clock, and Kristoff had asked her to dinner at his cottage tonight. Then she had an idea.

“Can I bring a date?”

“It would be best,” the matchmaker replied, “if you were unescorted. The, ah, gender balance will already be rather uneven, you see, and-“

“-you don’t want this thing to turn into a total sausage fest, with the men all competing for my sister’s attention.”

Herringholtz blinked. “Y-Yes. Quite.”

“’Sausage fest’?” Elsa asked.

“It’s just something I’ve heard Kristoff say. I guess men really like sausage.”

“If you would not mind,” Herringholtz said, “perhaps, during dinner this evening, you could avoid using any other colloquialisms you have learned from this Kristoff.”

***

In one of the castle’s elegant guest rooms, Prince Rajiv was going through the items in his traveling wardrobe, attempting to find an appropriate outfit to wear to the welcome banquet. Thankfully, most of his belongings had been in watertight chests and had been retrieved from the sea by Arendelle’s Harbor Patrol after the storm subsided.

“Highness,” Ajay said cautiously, “I am a bit...puzzled...by your behavior during your introduction to Queen Elsa.”

“MY behavior?” the prince replied hotly. “She was arrogant and condescending.”

“From where do you draw these conclusions, my Prince?”

“When I thanked her for saving us, she sounded as if she expected us to drop to our knees and grovel in gratitude. And the way she said ‘I look forward to speaking with you’—she might as well have said ‘I look forward to your public beheading.’”

“Well…” Ajay said slowly, “I would suggest that you not read too much into the Queen’s tone. These northern kingdoms have strange ways. Perhaps this is merely a cultural misunderstanding.”

“Perhaps,” Rajiv said grudgingly.

“Let us not let a bad first impression color our judgment,” Ajay said. "We have more than two hours until dinner. This seems a good moment for you to practice some of that meditation of yours, to clear your mind so that you may go to the banquet hall with a fresh perspective."

The prince nodded. "You are very wise," he said. “I shall do as you suggest. And Ajay?"

"Yes, your Highness?"

The prince walked over to him. "I am grateful that we and the crew survived the shipwreck unharmed, but...that ship was like a second home to me. I have had many an adventure aboard her with you and the crew. I will miss her very much.”

Ajay nodded. “Indeed, my Prince.”

“So I can only imagine,” Rajiv went on, “how her loss must affect her captain." Then, putting his hand on the big man's shoulder, he said, "I am sorry, my friend."

Ajay put his own hand over Rajiv's and closed his eyes. Then he replied, almost in a whisper, "Thank you, my boy."

***

Anna took a sip of her tea and tried to let the warmth of the soothing liquid lift the ache from her head. Her friend Hildy—Viscountess Hildegard, stepdaughter of the Duke of Hindebor, Master of the Royal Armory—was late for their planned rendezvous at the little tea shop, but that was just as well. Anna hoped to be over her headache before her friend arrived, for although Hildy was fun and an excellent confidante, she could be a bit loud.

"Hey, sexy princess!"

Anna tried to ignore the stabbing pain that shot through her skull as she answered, "Hey, Hildy."

The young viscountess sat down across the small table from Anna. She had a round face, blue eyes, a slightly olive complexion, and long, thickly curly brown hair that she attributed to her Bohemian father. Her figure was decidedly Rubenesque, and she never failed to wear outfits that featured as much cleavage as the human eye could take in. The other consistent item in her ensemble was a small bronze brooch that depicted, somewhat abstractly, the body of a nude man.

"Looks like someone had a rough day at work," Hildy said. "What, did the champagne bottle bounce off the ship and clock you in the head?"

"No, I...I asked Elsa to give me some real responsibility, and now I have to study up for the trade conference next week."

"Oooooh, REAL work," Hildy replied. "I'm surprised you're not dead."

Mock-sweetly, Anna replied, "You are cordially invited to bite me"—her standard response to Hildy's jibes. "I swear, sitting alone in that dusty Treasury records room poring over those trade logs makes every history lesson I had as a child seem riveting by comparison."

"Alone, huh? Well, at least you can play with yourself while you read. That was a big help when the Duke”—Hildy’s usual way of referring to her stepfather—“made me read his Annotated History of Scandinavian Arms. Although now I get kind of turned on whenever I see a halberd."

"The letters 'TMI' are meaningless to you, aren't they?"

"Completely. Now, on a related subject, I saw Kristoff in town earlier."

"How was he? I haven't seen him in a few days."

"Well, I didn't actually talk to him. He was having some kind of argument with the wainwright, and I was on my way to Helga's for a new ball gown; I find that if you get there before noon, she's still sober enough to hold a measuring tape straight. But Kristoff seemed his usual self: blonde, handsome, muscular, visibly sexually frustrated..."

"Hildy-"

"When are you going to have mercy on that poor boy? I keep expecting to hear a 'boom' and see sleigh parts and bits of woolen outerwear flying up in the air."

"It's...complicated."

"You put the round peg in the round hole. Not that complicated."

"No, not THAT part. It's just that...whenever it seems like we might be about to...you know...I kind of seize up inside. Like I'm afraid I'm about to make some terrible mistake."

"Is this about the thing with Prince Hans?"

"Why does everyone want to talk about that guy? No, I'm totally over that!"

"You realize that you're yelling right now, right?"

Anna looked around and realized that the handful of other customers in the tea shop were looking at her.

"Oops," Anna said, suddenly wishing she could sink out of sight.

"It's not just your boyfriend who's wound up too tight, you know," Hildy said.

Anna looked down at the table. "Yeah, maybe."

"Maybe? Girl, the only person in Arendelle who needs to get laid more than you and Kristoff is your sister."

"That's over the line, Hildy," Anna said, giving her friend a hard look. Anna usually enjoyed Hildy's irreverence—which set her apart from a lot of the other nobles Anna knew—but disrespecting the Queen was not cool.

"You're right. I'm sorry," Hildy said. "But speaking of the Queen, what does she say about your Kristoff situation?"

"I don't talk about...that stuff, with her."

"Are you serious? Talking about men is part of the sisterly experience. And given that you two are playing catch-up in that area, I'd think you'd be all over it."

"It's just that Elsa hasn't dated...anybody. And I'm afraid that talking to her about it might make her, you know, feel bad."

"Yes, your sister rules an entire kingdom AND has superpowers, but I'm sure she'd be sick with envy if you told her your exciting tales of not having sex with the ice-man."

"Fair point, I guess. And besides," Anna said, her mood brightening, "soon we'll both have men to talk about, what with this prince-consort thing." Then she put a hand to her forehead. "Oh, gosh, the prince-consort thing! I have to cancel dinner with Kristoff!" She looked apologetically at Hildy as she dug a few coppers out of her purse to pay for the tea. "I'm sorry—I'd better go. Maybe we could get together tomorrow?"

"Sure. I need to go see the blacksmith now, anyway.”

"For what?" Anna asked. “Don’t you usually have your servants do errands like that?”

“It’s not really an errand. He’s a strapping young man, and I have something that needs a good pounding.”

“TMI is just three letters, Hildy. They can’t be that hard to remember.”

***

Within the castle, Prince Rajiv had found a disused courtyard that seemed the perfect place for solitary meditation. He often found inverted yoga poses to be helpful for clearing the mind, so he had unrolled his woven jute mat on the flat gray stones and was now standing on his head, his palms and scalp forming three points of a triangle on the ground. His eyes were closed as the words of his first guru, remembered from when Rajiv was a small boy, came back to him.

“Thoughts cannot be blocked out or pushed away,” the old man had said, “for this is not how the mind works. Instead, let the thoughts come, and then let them go.”

Rajiv inhaled and exhaled gently, letting the cares of the day flow out of him.

“Hi! Whatcha doing?”

Rajiv’s eyes snapped open and took in a bizarre sight. In front of him was something like the head of a man, save that it was whiter than human skin could be, and in place of a nose, it had a…carrot?

Stranger still, the head was upside down, looking Rajiv straight in the eye.

“Um, hello,” Rajiv said. “Are you…What are you, exactly?”

“Oh, sorry, I forgot to introduce myself. Hi, I’m Olaf, and I like warm hugs. Also, I’m a snowman.”

“I am Rajiv,” the prince said. “You are a man made of snow?”

“You don’t have snowmen where you’re from? Guess it must be pretty hot there.”

Lowering himself down from his headstand, Rajiv replied, “As our Minister of Tourism likes to say, ‘You cannot spell Sundara without sun.’” Then he added despondently, “Perhaps unsurprisingly, we have very little tourism.”

Rajiv straightened up and realized that the upside-down head to which he was talking was not actually attached to anything. He felt distinct ripples in the formerly glassy pond of his inner peace as he watched two skinny wooden arms pick up the carrot-faced snow-head, flip it right-side up, and stick it onto its snow-body.

“Soooooo,” Rajiv said cautiously, “are you, ah, part of a race of snow-people, or…?”

“No, no, it’s just me,” the now-whole snowman said, seemingly oblivious to its own weirdness. “Elsa brought me to life with her snow-magic.”

“The Queen created you?” Rajiv asked. Perhaps this was why the snowman was a bit annoying.

“Yeah, I was an accident, but she loves me anyway. So what was that you were doing?”

“It is a discipline called yoga,” Rajiv said. “Among other things, it is intended to help calm the mind.”

“Wow, that’s, that’s really interesting. And, uh, how come you do it?”

“When I was very young,” Rajiv said patiently, “I was terribly afraid of the water. I would not go within fifty feet of the shore, let alone go out on a boat. My father thought that studying yoga and meditation would help me to overcome my fears, so I began my studies before I was even four years old. Now I love the water; I have been on many sea voyages with my friend Ajay.”

“Neat! Can I try it?”

Rajiv looked at Olaf. The snowman’s body did not appear to be well suited for headstands. But Rajiv was seized by an impish urge to see him attempt one.

“Certainly,” Rajiv said. “Just put your hands on the ground, then slowly bend down and put your head down in front of them. Leaving it attached to your body, that is.”

Olaf did as instructed.

“Now, gently kick your feet into the air,” Rajiv said.

The snowman again complied, and Rajiv caught his feet to steady him.

“Look! I’m doing it!” Olaf shouted.

“Very good,” Rajiv said, letting go of the snowman’s feet. “Now, simply hold that position for a few minutes.”

“Um, Rajiv?” Olaf said, starting to wobble, “I- I don’t think I’m built right for this. I’m a- a little too bottom-heavy.”

“You’ll be fine,” the prince said with a smile. “I must now go prepare for the Queen’s banquet. It was nice to meet you.” He began to walk toward the door that connected the courtyard to the interior of the castle.

“Come back!” Olaf cried, now wobbling even more violently. “I can’t do this by myself! My arms are literally sticks!”

“Well,” Rajiv said as he disappeared through the doorway, “although we may not have snow where I come from, I do know one thing about it: It falls very softly.”

“Wait! AAAAAAH!” Olaf screamed as he fell over onto his back—and landed completely unharmed.

“Oh. Right,” the snowman said to the gray sky.

END CHAPTER 3
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In the Light of Day: A Frozen Epic