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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 4: The Snowman and the Falcon

When Anna arrived at Kristoff’s cottage (which Anna considered a better choice of word than “shack”), she found the ice-man outside, unloading bales of straw from his wagon to carry into his half-subterranean ice house.

“Hey, Anna,” he said. “You’re early; I only just got here myself. Now that the weather’s warming up, the ice needs a little more insulation.”

“You want some help?” she said, dismounting her horse.

“No, I’m good,” he said. He hefted two bales, one on top of the other, and put them down by the door of the ice house.

“C’mon,” she said, going to the back of the wagon and putting her hands under another pair of bales. “Let me grab a couple of these.”

She tried to lift them, and they wouldn’t even budge.

“Okay, let me grab ONE of these,” she said, grunting as she lifted it.

“Anna,” Kristoff said, “you don’t have to do that.”

“I know, I just want to,” Anna said, panting as she put the bale next to the ice house door with the others.

“It’s just…It’s not your job, okay?”

“Please tell me you’re not saying that I shouldn’t do manual labor because I’m a princess.”

“Well, I- Look, why don’t you go inside and get cleaned up while I finish up here? You can help me with dinner.”

“I’m sorry, that’s- that’s why I came over. I can’t have dinner with you tonight.”

“Oh,” Kristoff said. “Something come up?”

“It’s this…prince-fest we’re having for Elsa. There’s a banquet thing tonight, and I need to be there.”

“Sure, I understand,” Kristoff said.

“I asked if I could bring you along, but-“

“It’s no big deal. I’ll make you my famous Herring Surprise another time.”

“Look, it’s not-“

“You probably need to go get ready. I’ll see you later, okay?”

Anna found herself simultaneously irked and despondent. Over the last few months, it had become clear to her that Kristoff had some issues about being a commoner dating someone who lived in a world of royals and nobles. But it seemed like any time she tried to address those concerns with him, he would just shut her down. And pushing harder would only turn the conversation into an argument.

“All right,” she said resignedly, climbing back onto her horse. “I’ll see you later.”

***

As the sun sank below the horizon, Anna took her seat in the castle's smallest banquet hall. Herringholtz had arranged the seating so that Elsa was at the head of the table, and the princes occupied the chairs nearest her. Anna sat halfway down the table, with Elsa and the princes on her right and the seven attendants to her left.

The princes had all arrived in their finest regalia, but the most eye-catching outfit by far was Prince Sefu’s. Despite his earlier attempt to flee Arendelle for the snake-free shores of Ireland, the African prince had nonetheless appeared for the welcome banquet (probably convinced by his attendant, Mofa, Anna thought). Sefu wore a shuka—a toga-like garment like the one he had worn earlier, save that this one was bright red shot through with gold threads—and, far more notably, he wore a pair of wooden stilts that were strapped to his calves and that added about two feet to his height. The ease with which the prince walked on them suggested that he wore them frequently.

They had just finished their salads and were awaiting the second course when Prince Varek looked at Elsa and said something in his own language. His attendant, Popov, interpreted: "Viewing you not clad with big knife."

"Um..." Elsa replied.

Prince Javier, sporting a burgundy suit with a huge, frilly white collar, spoke up, even as he poured what smelled like rubbing alcohol from a flask onto his hands for the third time since dinner began.

"I believe," the Hermosan prince said, "he is making the observation that you do not wear a sword."

"Many queens do, these days," added Prince Gormal. The man was clad in a kilt with his family’s blue, black, and green tartan. Anna had observed when he entered the room that he definitely had the legs for it.

"Indeed," said Prince Sefu, whose place was set next to Elsa's but who had pushed his chair a few feet back from the table—apparently so that he could keep one eye on the floor at all times. "My mother does. In fact, it was she who chose my name, which means 'sword' in my people's language."

"It's...not the image I want to project," Elsa said awkwardly. Then, perhaps not wanting to appear to be criticizing Sefu's mother, she added, "Not right now, at least."

"Well, Highness," said Prince Gormal, "if you change your mind, I'd suggest a fine blade like this one."

He drew a short, machete-like weapon whose blade bore many scratches but flashed brightly in the lamplight, indicating both extensive use and meticulous care.

"I once cut clean through the skull of a wild boar with this," Gormal boasted. "Spilled its brains on the forest floor like nutmeats."

Most of the other princes and attendants grimaced, and Prince Javier turned positively green. Anna thought it particularly unfortunate that the servers were just at that moment bringing out the second course—oyster stew. Young Prince Hypatios, however, simply said, "Cooool."

"Swords are fine for little men," said Prince Hjalmar, who had arrived wearing his helmet but had removed it and set it on the table after he sat down. "But for a warrior, there's nothing as good as an axe."

He pulled his weapon from his belt and held it up. The axe was a wicked-looking thing, with a broad blade on the front of its head and a sharp spike on the back.

Anna found herself channeling Hildy as she thought, Jeez, why don't they just unzip and compare lengths?

She was glad there were no guards in the room; they might have reacted badly to people drawing weapons in the Queen's presence. Despite the guard captain's objections, Elsa never had personal bodyguards. She said she didn’t need them, given that she could defend herself more than adequately, and that was certainly true. But in private, Elsa had confessed to Anna that she had another reason: Elsa didn’t want to intimidate people by having armed men standing behind her all the time.

"Gentlemen," said Herringholtz from the foot of the table, "perhaps we could save this particular discussion for a more appropriate time and place."

Gormal, his attendant glaring at him, quickly sheathed his sword. Hjalmar grunted and slowly put away his axe.

Anna, attempting to restore civility by changing the subject, said, "So, what do you all do back home?"

Sefu spoke up. "I am a captain in Mianyoka's capitol city guard. I have been leading an initiative to use hot air balloons to keep watch over the city—when the weather permits, at least.”

“How interesting,” Elsa said.

Keeps you well off the ground, too, Anna thought.

“I myself,” said Prince Javier, “engage in scholarly pursuits. I have a particular interest in communicable diseases; I am writing a book about the plagues of Europe and the Near East.”

Shocker, Anna thought ironically.

Anna heard Otos, young Prince Hypatios’ attendant, clear his throat.

“Um,” began the diminutive prince, who was clad in formal black eveningwear that seemed out of place on one so young, “I- I study, too. I study geography, and history, and, ah, languages. The King wants me to be a diplomat when I grow up.

“You’re not expecting to be king yourself someday?” Anna asked, recalling that Hypatios was King Aegeus’ only son.

“No,” the prince said. “I have, uh, four older sisters, and we have prime- prima-“

“Primogeniture,” Elsa said, referring to the practice—uncommon, but becoming more popular—of passing the royal title to the king or queen’s eldest child, regardless of sex. “Your family is very forward-thinking. I would like to know who Dianisia’s future queen will be; what is your eldest sister’s name?”

“Uh, it’s, it’s, um, Gabriella,” the boy replied.

Elsa seemed to sense Hypatios’ discomfort with being put on the spot, and said, “What about the rest of you? What do you do with your days?”

Prince Gormal, with deep pride, said, “I have made it my goal to slay and preserve at least one of every great beast this continent has to offer. And then, perhaps, move on to others.” He glanced at Prince Sefu, maybe hoping for an invitation.

Captain Anand cleared his throat, rather less subtly than Lord Otos had, and Anna realized that Prince Rajiv hadn’t yet spoken since they sat down to dinner. The prince was looking rather dashing in a royal-blue kurta—a collarless, knee-length shirt that buttoned partway down—and white trousers. Thus cued, Rajiv broke his silence.

“I am an officer in my country’s navy,” he said curtly.

“Although,” Captain Anand added, “the conditions of his commission are such that he can resign at any time, if necessary.”

Just in case we were worried that he wasn’t available for marriage, Anna thought. Subtlety is obviously not the Captain’s thing. I bet Hildy would like him.

Prince Varek, in whose ear Popov had been quietly interpreting the dinner conversation, spoke up again. Popov translated, “What your station?”

Guessing as to Varek’s meaning, Prince Rajiv replied, “My rank is lieutenant commander.”

“Really?” Elsa said, a bit icily. “That seems quite high for someone your age.”

Rajiv looked at her sharply. “What are you implying?”

“I’m not implying anything,” the Queen said, her tone clearly belying that statement.

“The navy is for puny men,” Prince Hjalmar broke in. “I was part of an expeditionary force in Nordland’s Royal Marines. I led-“

“I wasn’t finished speaking,” Rajiv interrupted.

“You do not need to finish,” Hjalmar growled. “No queen would be interested in a feeble little man like you.”

“How dare you!” Rajiv said, standing. Hjalmar’s face reddened with anger.

Suddenly, Hjalmar passed out and fell face-first into his oyster stew. Hjalmar’s attendant, Halfdan, ran over to him and pulled the prince’s face out of the bowl.

“Please excuse Prince Hjalmar,” the attendant said. “He is somewhat prone to these fainting spells, particularly when he gets upset.”

Anna realized that this explained Hjalmar’s reluctance to remove his helmet while standing, and why he had spoken of his military activities in the past tense. His days in the service had probably been numbered once his condition was revealed.

Maybe Elsa should pick him, Anna thought wryly. At least any arguments they had would be short.

“If you will excuse me,” Prince Rajiv said coldly, “I need some air.” He walked out, Captain Anand in close pursuit.

“And, um,” Prince Hypatios said, “I would like to visit the fass- the facil-“

“Down the hall to the left,” Anna said kindly.

***

Olaf was in the courtyard practicing his headstands when a young boy came out the castle door. The snowman had never seen the boy before, which meant that he might be someone interesting. Olaf dropped awkwardly onto his feet and went over to him.

"Wow," the boy said as Olaf approached, "an actual live snowman, like in my grandpapa’s stories! Can you talk?"

"I sure can," said Olaf. "How about you? Oh wait, I already heard you talk. Hey, maybe you could use your power of speech to tell me your name!"

"I'm Prince Hypatios, from Dianisia," the boy said.

"Oh, you're here for that prince thing Queen Elsa is having."

"Yeah," the young prince said, his eyes turning downward. "But...I'm no good at it. It's all grownups except me, and a lot of the time, I don't know what to say. Then I get all nervous."

"Yeah, I understand," Olaf replied. "It’s hard being the only snowman wherever I go. You don't know how many times I've heard people say things like, 'Eek, it's alive!' or 'Here, take these carrots and spare my children!' or 'Egads, a snow golem!' Are snow golems even a thing?"

The boy chuckled, his spirits slightly lifted.

"What's your name, anyway?" the prince asked.

"Gosh, I've gotten really bad about introducing myself lately. I'm Olaf, and I like warm hugs."

"Really?" the boy replied, glancing around as if to see if anyone was watching. Then he whispered, "Me too," and threw his arms around the delighted snowman.

***

Kristoff dismounted Sven and, leaving the reindeer to chat with the horses tied up in front of the Surly Mermaid tavern, went inside for a beer. With his evening unexpectedly free, he had gotten a few extra chores done, and he figured he had earned a reward in the form of an adult beverage. Plus, he needed a pick-me-up after the day he’d had, with the wainwright refusing to budge on the price of a tune-up for Kristoff's ice wagon, Anna cancelling dinner, and Sven acting snippy with him all day. (Reindeer mating season was approaching, and Sven was probably starting to get hormonal.)

Upon entering, he was greeted by an unwelcome—and unwelcoming—sight: At one of the rough-hewn wooden tables near the door sat Henrik and Grimmjaw, two of his fellow ice dealers. Kristoff had only a few friends in town, and these two certainly weren’t among them.

"Hey, it's Kristoff Bjorgman, the royal ice master," Henrik said, his bushy blonde beard doing nothing to hide his sneer.

"Oh, good evening, your Lordship," his wiry companion said, getting clumsily to his feet and giving Kristoff a mocking bow. "Making a special delivery to the Queen this evening?"

"It'd be the Princess getting the special delivery," Henrik slurred.

Kristoff rolled his eyes. These guys were jerks when they were sober, and it only took a few beers to promote them from jerk to asshole.

"Easy, fellas," Kristoff said, trying to keep his growing irritation out of his voice. "I'm just here for a beer, same as you."

"Oh, yes," Grimmjaw said. "Must be thirsty work, makin' all those deliveries to the redheaded royal. Makes a man dehydrated.”

Kristoff’s hands balled into fists, and he felt the heat of anger on the back of his neck. He had already been on edge when he walked in; he didn’t need to hear these dickweeds talking garbage about his girlfriend.

“Tell us,” Grimmjaw went on “does she prefer you use the front gate, or the back?"

"Maybe both at once, if the reindeer helps with the deliveries," Henrik said, leering. "That princess, she's got real animal magnetism."

Kristoff couldn't stop himself—with his considerable strength augmented by anger, he grabbed Henrik by the lapels and hauled the burly man out of his chair, bringing his face inches from Kristoff's.

"If you EVER say anything like that about the Princess again, I swear I'll-"

"Let him go, Bjorgman," said a voice from behind him. "This’ll be your only warning."

Kristoff turned around and saw Knut, the tavern-keeper, standing about five feet behind him. He was an older man, and on the small side, but the hard look in his eye and the loaded crossbow in his hands made it clear that he was willing and able to cause some grievous bodily harm if need be.

Kristoff released Henrik, letting the man drop back into his chair.

"I won't have you boys wrecking my bar with one of your fist fights," Knut said. Then he looked at Kristoff. "Now you—out." The tavern-keeper gestured toward the door with his crossbow.

“But I didn’t-” Kristoff began. “I mean, I wasn’t-”

“Trouble started when you walked in here. Figure it’ll end when you walk out.”

“Fine,” Kristoff grumbled, and left.

***

Dinner had ended, and all of the princes and their attendants had retired for the evening. Elsa had asked Anna and Baron Herringholtz to stay behind, so as the servants cleared the last of the dishes from the table, the three sat at one end, where they could talk.

“Well, that could have gone better,” Elsa said.

“I am afraid I must agree,” Herringholtz replied. “I expected a certain amount of competitiveness among the princes, of course, but not quite so much open hostility.”

Anna looked at Elsa. “I don’t think it helped when you picked a fight with Prince Rajiv during dessert.”

“He said he hated chocolate!” Elsa cried. “In this castle, that’s blasphemy.”

“I believe,” Herringholtz said carefully, “he merely said that he did not care for it.”

“For a second there,” Anna added, “I thought you were going to throw your cake at him.”

“I won’t say I didn’t feel the urge,” Elsa replied. “But I didn’t think a food fight would be the best way to cap off my first day with the princes.”

“Prince Hypatios might have liked it, though,” Anna said. “That poor kid; he didn’t seem too happy to be there. Although he DID like the cake.”

Elsa sighed. “Seven princes in a race for my hand in marriage, and an eight-year-old is leading the pack.”

Anna nodded. “I think Prince Javier fell a little behind when he started shouting for Dr. Montalvo to give him medicine because his yellow fever had returned. I’m starting to see why Montalvo carries that black bag with him wherever they go.”

“Well,” Herringholtz sniffed, “I would not be too concerned about the events of this evening repeating themselves at the ball tomorrow night; there will be plenty of other company to dilute the princes’ rivalry.” He looked at Elsa. “Before then, your Highness, you shall have your first three private interviews with the princes: Sefu in the morning, Javier at mid-day, and Gormal in the afternoon. The next day will be Varek, Hjalmar, and Rajiv, and on the following morning, Hypatios. I have given all of the princes and their attendants the schedule.”

Anna looked out the window and sighed.

“What?” said Elsa.

“I hope Kristoff had a better evening than we did.”

***

Kristoff was riding home the long way, on the road that passed by the castle. He wasn’t planning to visit at this late hour, but he hoped that at least seeing Anna’s home would make him feel a little better.

He gazed up at the parapets. It would be nice if he could catch a glimpse of her, but that was probably too much to hope for.

At that moment, he heard the cry of a bird taking off from the castle’s western tower, where he saw the figure of the person who had released it. It was little more than a shadow on this overcast night.

This was not an unusual sight, as various personnel at the palace used messenger birds to communicate over distance. But, Kristoff, thought, didn’t they launch the birds from the aviary in the south tower?

Maybe he was just misremembering where the aviary was. He needed to go home and get some sleep.

Tomorrow would be a better day. At the very least, the odds were against its being worse.

END CHAPTER 4
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In the Light of Day: A Frozen Epic