1. Frozen: Of Frost and Flame

CHAPTER II

Norway. April 11, 1842. Arendelle Castle, Arendelle. Noon.

The bells in the bell tower rang in their joyous tune, signifying that the time was noon. Throughout the queendom, the lords and ladies, peddlers and peasants, and scientists and simpletons went about their business.

However, within the great castle that sat near the bay in which the queendom was situated, there was little to no joy where the queen herself was concerned. For at the moment during which the bells rung, Elsa was busy signing trade agreements with the Southern Isles thanks to a convincing argument by the reigning monarch, who claimed that the actions of his son, the traitorous Prince Hans, did not reflect the beliefs and views of the Isles themselves.

Elsa finished signing the agreement with an exaggerated flourish and forced a smile at the Southern Isles' emissary.

The emissary stood—an action copied by Elsa, albeit with much effort and reluctance—bowed gallantly. "Your cooperation is much appreciated, Your Highness. The traders of the Southern Isles look forwards to doing business with Arendelle."

"Thank you, emissary," Elsa replied politely, expertly hiding her exhaustion. "I hope all goes well."

"The blessing goes both ways, Your Majesty. Farewell." The emissary dipped his head respectfully and allowed himself to be escorted by two guards.

Elsa let out a long sigh and retreated to her throne, falling into it heavily. She rested her cheek on her hand, propping her head up as she thought, I'll just take a quick nap... then I'll get back to...

Ten minutes later, a muffled sound touched Elsa's ears, and she let out a snort, blinking blearily as she lifted her face off her hand. "Huh?" she mumbled.

"Your Majesty," the voice repeated, no longer muffled to Elsa's sleeping ears. "Are you all right?"

Elsa squinted at the figure standing before her throne and immediately sat up straight, snapping to attention—for the "figure" happened to be a concerned-looking member of the royal guard. "Oh! Um... yes," she said, ignoring the heat in her face and the redness that was creeping up her neck. "I'm... I'm fine."

"Excellent." The guard saluted and told her, "The borders are secure, Your Highness, and the emissary from the Southern Isles was safely escorted back to his ship."

"Good," Elsa said with a curt nod. "Thank you... uh..."

The guard raised his eyebrow. "Your Majesty?" he asked uncertainly.

Elsa blinked. "I'm sorry," she said, "but I can't seem to remember your name."

The guard cocked his head. "Archer Thornglade," he responded. "Captain of the Elite Royal Guard."
Elsa winced. "Oh. Sorry. I guess I should've known that."

"Not necessarily," the guard—Captain Thornglade, apparently—told her reassuringly.

Elsa allowed herself a small, relieved smile, then looked the captain up and down.

"...Will that be all, Your Highness?" Thornglade asked, obviously uncomfortable.

Elsa stood and stepped down from her throne, answering, "Not quite, Captain. Walk with me." She headed out of the throne room and down the main hall, with the captain following her a few seconds of hesitation later.

"I don't believe this is standard procedure, Your Majesty," the captain said, sounding confused as he walked alongside the queen, his hat held tightly in his hands.