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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 8: The Swordswoman

Anna saw Tilde begin to raise her sword. Anna was about to hurry toward her and Ajay, hoping to prevent a deadly duel, when Tilde halted her movement to hold the weapon at about chest height.

“Look at this blade!” Tilde demanded, extending the flat of her sword toward Ajay. “This is Arendellan steel, made from case-hardened Nordlandic iron. You can see from the colors in the metal that it’s been tempered to perfect resiliency. There is no better steel in all of Europe!”

“Temper is hardly the issue!” Ajay retorted.

Just loudly enough for Kristoff to hear, Anna murmured, “Oh, I think it is.”

Other party guests began to emerge from the trading post, stopping to watch the conflict from a safe distance.

“Case hardening,” Ajay continued, “only carbonizes the outer surface of the iron bars, making the strength of the steel uneven.” Then, lifting his own blade, he said, “Now this—this is Sundaran crucible steel. The iron is melted and the carbon mixed into the molten metal, strengthening it through and through. There is no better steel in all the world.”

Seemingly unswayed by Ajay’s words, Tilde replied haughtily, “Then I propose a test. We strike our swords together crosswise, edge to edge, and we see which blade comes out the better.”

“Very well,” Ajay growled, raising his sword up above his right shoulder. Tilde did the same.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa!” Anna cried, running up to them. “This is totally unsafe! What if a piece of steel flies off and hits one of you in the head? You should at least be wearing helmets!”

By now, all of the other guests save Hildy and Dr. Montalvo were outside, most of them standing in a group near the trading-post door. From among them, Halfdan stepped forward and held up a large leather travel bag he had brought with him.

“I can lend you a helmet,” he said. “Prince Hjalmar always makes me carry a spare.”

Oaken, turning toward the door of the trading post, added, “And I’m sure I have one or two in the Lost and Found.”

Moments later, Ajay and Tilde were each wearing an ill-fitting but, Anna hoped, adequately protective helmet. Again, they raised their swords.

“If you would care to count to three,” Tilde growled.

“Very well,” Ajay replied, hands tightening around the grip of his sword. “One… two… THREE!”

They swung their blades mightily. Ajay was the stronger of the two, but Tilde was clearly the better-trained sword fighter, putting the strength of her entire body into the swing. As a result, the blades struck each other with equally massive force.

In the moment, it was almost impossible to see what happened, but a mere second later, the aftermath told the complete story. There Tilde stood, a suddenly truncated sword in her hand, staring at a spot on the ground a few feet ahead and to her left, where the topmost fifteen inches of her blade now lay among the pine needles.

“I don’t believe it,” Tilde said—not in denial, it seemed to Anna, but in genuine surprise.

Anna’s eyes turned to Ajay. His getting into a loud argument with a woman he had only known for a couple of hours hadn’t done much for Anna’s opinion of him. But now, he wasn’t gloating, or shouting in triumph, or holding up his blade to show everyone that it was still whole. Instead, he had removed his helmet and simply stood there inspecting his sword, which had been barely nicked in the clash. Anna thought that perhaps he wanted to let Tilde be the first to speak.

“It seems I stand corrected,” the woman said, clearly struggling to be graceful in defeat.

“Mmm,” Ajay said, nodding slowly. “But it also seems that I owe you a sword.”

“What?” Tilde replied, looking puzzled.

“Regardless of the reason,” Ajay said, “I would never damage another’s weapon without making restitution.”

Then, inverting his own sword and grasping it by the base of the blade, he held it out handle-first to Tilde.

“This sword is yours, my lady.”

Tilde’s look of disbelief grew as she said, “You’re…You’re giving it to me?”

“I do not deny that I shall miss it,” Ajay replied. “It has served me well for many years. But the sting of its loss is lessened by the knowledge that I am delivering it into such skilled hands as yours.”

The wheels of Anna’s mind turned as she deduced what was going on here. Ajay, having won the argument and had a minute to calm down, must have realized what a terrible blunder he had made in getting into a row with the daughter of the Master of the Royal Armory—a man whose opinion, Ajay no doubt knew, would carry considerable weight in the decision whether Arendelle should begin trading for Sundaran steel. But now Ajay saw an opportunity, not only to repair the damage, but to forward his cause by giving Tilde a sample of the type of sword that could be made with that steel. Tilde, in turn, would surely show her father the sword and tell him what she had seen it do.

Anna decided that she would have to revise her earlier conclusion about subtlety not being the Sundaran sailor’s forte.

***

Rajiv looked around at the other princes and realized that he was now the only one who had not yet danced with Queen Elsa. He had been putting it off, instead chatting or dancing with some of the other guests. He had talked with Baron Herringholtz, learning that the man was an avid historian, as well as a genealogist and matchmaker; the prince and the baron had each shared what they knew about Rajiv’s ancestor, the first King of Sundara. Rajiv had danced with the Minister of the Treasury—not the most fascinating conversationalist, perhaps, but she could polka quite expertly despite her years. And Rajiv had had a particularly nice talk with the affable Duke of Hindebor. When the conversation turned to family, the man had spoken proudly of both his daughter Tilde, who he hoped would one day succeed him as Master of the Royal Armory, and his stepdaughter Hildegard, whom he described as “very clever, if a bit free-spirited” and who had been of great aid to him in the preparation of his various published works. Rajiv wondered to himself if his own father ever spoke of him with such pride.

But the hour was beginning to grow late, and Rajiv could not afford to offend the Queen by avoiding her entirely. As Ajay had said to him earlier that evening as they dressed for the ball, "It is my duty to remind you that even if you have no interest in Queen Elsa, it is your father's will that we do all we can to secure Arendelle as a trading partner. So please...be nice to her. Or civil, at the very least."

The orchestra began a new song, and Rajiv, swallowing, stood up and approached the Queen.

"May I have this dance?" he asked, holding out his hand.

"Certainly," Elsa said with what was obviously forced congeniality.

The dance was an old-fashioned minuet. Rajiv had learned it as part of his courtly training, but it did not appear that Arendellan royals received such instruction, because Queen Elsa scarcely seemed to know the steps. They had not been dancing for even half a minute when she stepped on his foot, nearly tripping him. He managed to hold his tongue but could not help but give her a sharp look as he regained his balance.

"Please forgive me," Elsa said. To Rajiv's ears, the words were devoid of sincerity.

"Certainly," he said coldly, resuming the dance.

They danced in silence for another minute—until Rajiv felt a sharp pain as the toe of Elsa's shoe collided with the base of his shinbone.

"Will you watch your step?" he hissed.

"I'm sorry," she said, her voice dripping with irony. "Have I injured you?"

"You have only injured your own dignity," Rajiv growled. "Are you truly so clumsy, or is this a childish attempt to vex me?"

"I'm not the one being childish, you pampered, dandyish, arrogant-"

"I do not need to stand here and be insulted by you!" Rajiv spat, drawing looks from some of the nearby guests. Lowering his voice, he said, "Good evening, your Highness."

Then, walking briskly and drawing further stares, he left.

***

With the fracas over, the guests seemed anxious to keep the party going. Anna, thinking that it might be good if everyone had at least some of their wits about them at the end of the evening, decided to treat them all to some food. At Kristoff’s suggestion, she ordered barbecued moose ribs, and Oaken was soon grilling them to order.

Hildy and Dr. Montalvo, looking a bit flushed but smiling contentedly, emerged from the trading post and approached Anna and Kristoff. Anna felt a pang of anxiety as she imagined Hildy opening the conversation by making a poorly veiled remark about her just-concluded activities with the doctor. But the princess realized that her concern was not about the inappropriateness of such a comment, but that it would throw her and Kristoff’s aborted attempt at physical intimacy—tonight’s, and many others before—into sharp contrast. So Anna decided it would be best if she were the one to start the conversation.

“So,” she said to Dr. Montalvo, “how do you think Prince Javier is holding up without you? I hope he hasn’t succumbed to consumption or dengue fever because he couldn’t get his medicines the instant he called for them.”

Anna had meant the comment as a joke, but while Kristoff and Hildy chuckled, Montalvo’s expression turned glum.

“They are all placebos, of course,” the doctor sighed. “If I gave him real medicines every time he asked, THAT would kill him.”

“Why give him anything?” Kristoff asked. “I mean, once he realizes that he won’t die if he doesn’t get his medicine, won’t he snap out of it?”

Shaking his head, Montalvo replied, “I’ve tried it, more than once. He simply finds some other explanation for his failure to succumb to his many imaginary ailments. His belief in these maladies seems unshakable; it is the only point on which it is impossible to reason with him. I have never been able to determine the cause.”

Mofa, apparently overhearing this conversation, chimed in, “It is the same with Prince Sefu’s fear of snakes. No matter how many times he opens his wardrobe—which he always does with a ten-foot pole—and finds no snakes inside, I can never convince him that he will find no snakes the next time, either.”

“Royals can be quirky, I guess,” Anna said.

Within an hour or so, the party began to wind down. As the various guests helped clear up the party room and put their things into the ice wagon or the carriage, Kristoff and Anna washed out the used tankards in a rain barrel out back.

“So,” Anna said, “this debt thing…it’s getting under control?”

“Thanks to my contract with the Crown, I’m digging my way out of the hole,” Kristoff replied. “It was a near thing, though. Before I met you, I was pretty close to having to sell everything and go work at the quarry—or worse, the sulfur mines.”

“Well, that’s for the best,” Anna said. “This is a crummy year for sulfur, anyway.”

“What makes you say that?”

“Oh, my reading at the Treasury. The sulfur business is really slow this year.”

“Really?” Kristoff said, raising an eyebrow. “Because the mines are still hiring—maybe even more than usual. I see postings on the job board in town all the time.”

“That’s strange,” Anna said. “I wonder-“

“Hey,” Hildy said, sticking her head out the back door. “Everyone’s ready to go. Kristoff, can I ride with you? May and Marit really want to hear more from Mofa about Mianyokan music, so I offered him my seat in the carriage. Oh, and I think Popov might want to swap with you, Anna; he seemed very interested in talking swordfighting with Tilde.”

“I’m okay with it if Tilde is,” Anna said, not certain how well the swordswoman’s patience would hold up against Popov’s broken Arendellan.

***

For the ride back to the castle, Ajay insisted that Anna take his spot on the driver’s bench next to Kristoff. Ajay sat right behind them in the bed of the ice wagon.

“That was quite a difference of opinion you and Tilde had, there,” Kristoff remarked over his shoulder.

Clearly embarrassed, Ajay replied, “Yes, much in the way that cobras and mongooses can be said to have a difference of opinion.”

While Anna chuckled, Kristoff said, “It’s mongooses? Not mongeese?”

“Correct,” Ajay answered.

“Weird,” said Kristoff.

“In your language,” Ajay replied, “the plural of ‘reindeer’ is ‘reindeer.’ I would say that is weirder.”

“What?” Kristoff said. “No, the plural of ‘reindeer’ is ‘reindeers.’ Anna, back me up on this.”

“Actually, Ajay’s right,” Anna said.

“You mean I’ve been saying ‘reindeers’ in front of you for the past nine months and you’ve never corrected me?”

“I already correct you on proper ballroom attire and table manners,” Anna replied. “If I didn’t draw the line at grammar, I’d be a hopeless nag.”

Now it was Ajay’s turn to chuckle.

***

At Hildy’s insistence, Kristoff first headed to the castle to drop off Anna, Ajay, Dr. Montalvo, Hamish, and Halfdan. In the small hours of the morning, there were few sounds besides the hushed conversation of the passengers and the hoof-clops of Sven and Halfdan’s horse on the cobblestones.

Suddenly, Kristoff saw a window sash fly open on the second floor of a house they were passing by. A man, his pale head topped with thin white hair, leaned out and looked down at them. His squinting eyes seemed to focus on Kristoff and Anna as he said, “Disgusting.”

“What is it, dear?” a woman’s voice called from somewhere behind the man.

The man shut the window, but as he moved away from it, Kristoff could clearly hear him say, “The Princess, carrying on with that commoner. A youthful dalliance is one thing, but it’s high time she found herself a proper suitor.”

“Ugh,” Anna said, making a face. “The Count and Countess of Ardegund. They make the term ‘nobility’ bitterly ironic.”

Kristoff dropped everyone but Hildy off at the castle, Ajay promising to deliver to Otos the bottle of beer and paper-wrapped barbecued moose ribs that Kristoff handed him. Then Kristoff headed toward Hildy’s home at the edge of the city.

“So,” Hildy said, “did you and Anna have fun tonight?”

“Um, yeah,” Kristoff answered. “I mean, not as much fun as you and the doc, but-”

“Oh, don’t use that as a yardstick,” Hildy said. “That was just blowing off steam. What you and Anna have is the real thing.”

Kristoff’s head dropped as he said, “Yeah. But…I don’t know.”

“You don’t know what? You two are perfect for each other. And you are so in love, even if you’re not obvious about it. Once you guys get over your little issues, we’re talking happily ever after, here.”

“But they’re not just our issues,” Kristoff said.

“Don’t tell me this is about what old Count Limpwick said earlier,” Hildy replied. “You can’t let a few class-conscious dillweeds get to you.”

“If it were just a few, I wouldn’t,” Kristoff said. “And it’s not that I take it personally, exactly. It’s just…Anna’s an important person. To the whole kingdom, I mean. She’s taking on more important responsibilities these days, and then there’s the fact that she needs to be ready to take over as queen at any time—even if it’s just while Elsa has the flu or something.”

“And that bothers you?”

“She needs the respect and the support of the people, and it bothers me that my being with her is interfering with that. I can’t help but think she’d be better off finding someone more…appropriate, I guess.”

“Shouldn’t that be her decision?”

“Anna’s too nice to break up with me because I’m bad for her image.”

“No, she just knows that that would be a completely stupid reason to break up with you. Give it time; when those noble types get to know you and see what kind of person you are, they’ll lighten up.”

“Maybe. But why do you care so much?”

“Because Anna’s my friend, and I want her to be happy. Besides, they call me the Love Goddess for a reason.”

“Does anyone actually call you that?”

“It’ll catch on.”

END CHAPTER 8
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In the Light of Day: A Frozen Epic