Part 1

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"Ah-ah, ah-ah," the operatic voice rings, in tune, through the leaves of the Enchanted Forest. By a miracle of the earth and wind, the wagon, not hitched to any animal, starts to move, taking the girl and boy out of the fighting. The wagon roles by itself, across hills and curves, across rocks and ditches. Slowly, it moves along, meandering around trees to protect its passengers. In this way, it rolls for a few minutes, which seem like long minutes to the wakeful girl. She has hidden herself under cloth sacks, taking on the role of hidden guardian of the unconscious boy. This boy is wounded, a head injury sustained during the battle still raging behind.
The wagon reaches the entry to the Forest. Four large rocks, each representing an elemental spirit, stand guard as the wagon passes between them. On it goes, as the sun sinks in the sky and gives rise to the moon. On it goes, over rocky fields and snowy mountains. On it goes, continuing through the morning, through midday, and to the evening, when it arrives at the top of the mountain on which rests a part of the kingdom of Arendelle. This country is a concerned one, concerned at the absence of its king, who was supposed to return that morning. The wagon continues on the thin dirt road down the mountain, through the village at ground level, and across the bridge which spans the fjord, to the castle. A pair of guards ready their spears at the sight of a wagon moving without a team to pull it. In the bed, they see their unconscious prince, and movement underneath cloth sacks. The girl throws off the sacks and, seeing the guards, backs herself as far from the guards as she can.
"Please, don't hurt me!" She begs, almost crying. "But take care of him. He's Arendelle."
"We can see that," one guard remarks. "Who are you, girl?"
"I'm Iduna," the girl answers, "and I'm a Northuldra, and we didn't mean any of this!"
"What's going on?" The second guard questions. "Why do you have our prince? And what happened to him?"
"In my Forest," Iduna explains, wiping away a tear, "something happened. My people and his people started fighting. He was thrown back. He's unconscious. I took him to this wagon for his safety, and hid myself for my own."
Iduna looks at the guards anxiously and fearfully, hoping they will believe her and knowing that if they do not, the consequences could be dire.
"I can see in your eyes that you're telling the truth," the first guard comments after a moment.
Iduna breathes a sigh of relief.
"But how did the wagon come without a team to pull it?" The second guard inquires.
Iduna knows she cannot give herself away as one who deals with magic, for fear that the guards might treat her the same way the king of Arendelle treated her own people.
"I fear for my life," she responds, "that if I tell you the truth, you'll kill me."
"Iduna--" the first guard begins.
He is interrupted by the light groaning of the boy, who is stirred to consciousness by time. Iduna holds up his head.
"Where--" the boy asks groggily, "where am I?"
"Where are we?" Iduna echoes.
"Prince Agnarr, you're in Arendelle," the second guard answers.
"What happened?" Agnarr mumbles, looking up and seeing Iduna's eyes looking into his own.
"You were hurt in the Forest," Iduna tells him. "Your father, the king... died."
"He's... dead?" Agnarr can hardly believe his ears.
The guards share a glance.
"Iduna," the first guard says, "stay here with Prince Agnarr. We have to go talk with some people."
The guards hurry off, leaving Agnarr and Iduna in the wagon bed at the castle gates.
"Who are you?" Agnarr asks as he weakly props himself up.
"I'm Iduna," the girl replies. "You got hurt pretty bad."
"Yeah," Agnarr agrees, rubbing the back of his head. "I'm pretty sore."
"I'm not leaving you until you're okay," Iduna resolves. "I have to know that you're okay."
"Thanks," Agnarr manages a smile. Quickly, he becomes serious again. "My father died?"
"In battle, against my people," Iduna elucidates. "On behalf of them, I'm sorry. I'm really, really sorry."
"I appreciate that," Agnarr says, then proceeding to change the subject. "Are you okay?"
"Tired, but I'm okay," Iduna answers.
The sun sets low on the horizon, it's orange beam shining on the two's faces.
"It's going to be dark soon," Agnarr points out. "I'll have someone make arrangements to get you a place to sleep."
"Don't go to all that trouble," Iduna prohibits. "Take care of yourself. I'm going to be fine."
"You saved me," Agnarr reminds, "so it's the least I could do."
"Thank you," Iduna smiles. "I can see that you're going to be a great king."
"I've never seen you before now," Agnarr switches topics. "Are you Arendellian?"
"No," Iduna denies. "I'm a Northuldra."
"Tomorrow," Agnarr offers, "I'll get a procession arranged to take you home."
The two guards who had left earlier return.
"Good to see you sitting up, Sire," the first guard says.
"Let's get you inside," the second commands, "so you--"
"Wait," Agnarr interrupts. "Once I'm all set up, find a place for Iduna to stay the night. Please."
"We'll do what we can," the first guard promises.
"I'm going to wait out here," Iduna decides.
"If that's what you want to do," Agnarr permits, being helped out of the wagon bed by the guards. "I'm glad to have met you, Iduna. And thank you."
Iduna smiles to say "you're welcome" wordlessly as Agnarr slowly walks away under his own power. The sun's last rays disappear, leaving Arendelle under the twinkling stars and awaiting the nightly arrival of the moon.
"Tomorrow," Iduna thinks to herself, "I'll be home. And I can tell everyone that Arendelle's not the bad guy."

Agnarr & Iduna: A Short StoryDonde viven las historias. Descúbrelo ahora