In Fantasy

Prologue

Author's Note: I've been working on this story for the better part of six months on and off, as I ambitiously decided to write the whole thing before posting it. A questionable move, to be sure, but I think the end product is better for the time spent ensuring consistency in themes, imagery, and so forth. I originally described this as "Frozen meets Sleeping Beauty meets Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind," but I think I should add in The Little Mermaid or Aladdin there for good measure. You'll find little bits of many stories' influence on this one, though hopefully it isn't too similar to them as to bore you.

Hope you enjoy, and look forward to several more installments to come. You can find future chapter previews, fanart, and analyses at #InFantasyFrozen on my Tumblr.

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The young couple entered the main hall of the palace with bowed heads, their eyes fixed to the floor.

The steward announced their presence as the doors to the room closed behind them. "Their Royal Majesties, King Agnarr and Queen Iduna of Arendelle."

The couple finally raised their gazes to the throne at the head of the hall, atop which was sat the king. He was a generation their senior, though his dark brown hair and keen, light blue eyes did not betray his true age.

Posted along the sides of the hall were his guardsmen, and one notary at the foot of his throne, the latter holding a tablet, paper, and pen with disquieting stoicism.

They bowed and curtsied on instinct. "Your Majesty."

The king waved away the gesture, standing briefly from the throne. "There's no need for that between old friends," he said, sitting once they were upright again. "Agnarr, my boy—I must congratulate you. You could not have chosen a finer-looking wife."

The young woman's nose wrinkled, though she tipped her head in thanks.

Her husband cleared his throat. "Thank you, Your Majesty."

"Just 'Albert' is fine," the king corrected him, making the young man redden. "Don't be embarrassed. We are equals now, you and I, are we not?"

The young man's blush did not dissipate as he tried to find an adequate reply, and in the awkward silence, the king pressed on: "I know it was some time ago, but I was sorry to hear about what happened to your father. You received my letter, I take it?"

"Yes," replied the young man. "Thank you for your condolences."

"It was the least I could do," said the king. "Even if Runeard and I weren't exactly on good terms, I never wished the man ill." He sighed. "It was a shame we were never reconciled before his unexpected passing."

The young man swallowed. "Agreed."

The king eyed him with interest. "Which is why I was quite surprised to hear from you after so many years. After all, the last time I saw you, you couldn't have been more than... what, eight? Ten years old? And now you are married, and the freshly-crowned King of Arendelle." He paused, smiling. "The title suits you."

The young man looked unnerved. "That's kind of you," he said, and continued: "I regret that my father kept us apart from many allies during his reign, including the Southern Isles."

The king's gaze alit. "Indeed. He left you and his councilors with quite the mess to clean up." He frowned. "All of that unpleasantness with the natives, for instance. I imagine building that dam and losing some of your best soldiers cost a pretty penny."

The young man's cheeks burned. "There were significant financial consequences as a result of those decisions, yes. We..." He inhaled sharply. "We were hoping to obtain your assistance in our recovery efforts, and rebuild our countries' relations."