Third installment of four, Rated M, an Agduna Frozen story, amnesia AU. This chapter owes a debt of gratitude to @the-spastic-fantastic who pointed out we hadn’t yet let Iduna notice Agnarr with his sleeves rolled up, requested drunk and depressed Agnarr (and added even more devastating details to that scene) and as always did a wonderful job beta-ing and working through this with me.
Part Three
The letter arrived to the Sommerhus before she and Elsa did, Agnarr’s mark in the wax that sealed it together. Iduna thought he must have written while she was packing clothes and toys, directing which servants were to accompany them. She had also scribbled off a hasty note to Thea and Linnea inviting them to come visit and putting a cheerful slant on her hurried departure.
Please come see Elsa and me at the Sommerhus! Agnarr is staying in the palace, royal duties preclude his presence.
Elsa loved the journey north, looking out the window of the carriage and pointing at every new animal and person and house she could see. “Baa! Sheep! Cow! Moo!” When they arrived at the house, Elsa had craned her neck around each corner as she toddled through, calling “Papa?” Iduna felt the prick of tears in her eyes, and swept them away quickly, before Elsa would see and turn the whole cottage cold with frost in sympathetic worry.
As the servants unloaded the carriage and trunks and the cook set up the pantry and a light meal for dinner, Iduna put Elsa in her crib for a nap and took the letter upstairs. She settled into an unused bedroom. She couldn’t bring herself to use the room that she and Agnarr had occupied on previous trips. For having hardly any memories, the ones she did have were certainly plaguing her now.
She expected a quickly jotted note, a “Please forgive me,” or a “Please come home,” or perhaps even a “I am your King, you must do as I command. Come home now or I’ll take our daughter away from you.” It didn’t seem like him to do that, but then did she truly know him? After keeping such a big lie, what else could he be hiding?
Instead, the note was two pages of cramped writing, Agnarr’s hand faint in some places and overly strong in others as if he was having trouble controlling his emotions as he wrote. She put a hand to her cheek as she read, and this time, let her tears fall.
My Dearest Iduna,
I know I don’t deserve your forgiveness, but I’ll ask for it just the same. I will write down for you all that I know of you, some in this letter, and more to follow each day. But if you find that your tastes have changed, know that my love has not. I loved you when we were fourteen. I loved you still at twenty-four when we pledged ourselves to each other. And I love you now at twenty-six with a child of our own. I will love you whether or not you remember anything and whether or not you are the same girl with whom I fell in love. I will love you in this life, and every life, and hope that we can share this one again soon.
Your lips were cold the first time we kissed, almost frozen. You took me to a spring of water, you told me it was the purest in the whole forest. The water was clear and cold and you said there was legend about it wielding the power of truth. That those who drank of it would tell their secrets. You drank first, cupping your hand into the water and bringing it to your mouth. The water dribbled down your hand and from a corner of your mouth and I was mesmerized by the sight, wanting nothing more than to kiss the spot on your lips that was wet, to take your truth and make it my own. I dipped my hands in the water and drank too, and said the first thing that came to mind, a truth so basic and fundamental but one I had not said out loud to you before. “I love you." You smiled and said “I love you too.”
I leaned in to kiss you, and the cold water made us both gasp and then laugh. But soon we had made our own heat and the relief and joy I felt at saying those words and hearing you say them warmed me brighter than the summer sun at noon. I wish I could tell you if you were nervous or excited or impatient for me to say those words but I don't know. As well as I knew you then, I won't guess at your inmost thoughts and I hope they come back to you someday. But I will tell you mine - and they are that I love you wholly and desperately, that I am so sorry for betraying your trust, that being your husband and the father to our daughter is worth more than this kingdom or any other. I love you. You don't ever have to forgive me but I hope you will believe that I love you.
Yours, Agnarr
Iduna folded the letter and got into the bed, letting herself cry for the girl she was and couldn’t remember, and over the husband who knew them both but had kept it from her.
***
Every day, letters came. Some were as long as the first, some were short. They made her laugh and cry and rage. She might have ignored them altogether, but she was so eager to know about who she was and who they had been. And she hated that she was dependent on him for that. That he could have told her this a year or two ago and chose not to.
***
My Dearest Iduna,
Your anger is justified, but please know nothing will ever change my love for you and our daughter. Yours, Agnarr
***
At the end of the first week, Agnarr arrived and delivered a stack of letters to her in person. She was holding Elsa who squealed and clapped her hands together at the sight of him, and she wiped the tiny icicles that grew from Elsa’s fingers. Agnarr kissed Iduna on the cheek and whispered urgently in her ear. “Read them alone and burn them when you’re through.”
When she started to read, she knew why they couldn’t be kept. He had written to her about the Northuldra – the rituals, the legends, the spirits, the names of her family members and what they were like. Songs that he remembered. Foods she liked to eat. Speculation on how Elsa’s powers might be related to the enchantments of the forest, though it was a unique magic he didn’t think had been seen there before. He had given her his study of the Northuldra people.
Having it might get her killed, even as the queen. Lord Hannesel and others still fueled resentment against the Northuldra and there were rumors he was gathering support. Agnarr had even told the maid who had heard Iduna sing the Northuldra lullaby a carefully concocted story of his remembrance of the tune from a trip there, explaining that he had taught his wife.
She put the stack into the fire but held the last one a bit longer, waiting until all the others were burned before parting with it.
My Dearest Iduna,
Your birthday is September 5th, a time when the leaves in your forest start to change and the colors are so bright it seems like the trees have dressed up to celebrate you. Your mother gave you a shawl at birth with the patterns of the spirits on it. It wasn’t with us the day we escaped the mist.
We wrapped it around our hands when we were handfasted.
I was so hopeful we would create peace between our people. My father had been getting more aggressive and insistent in matchmaking for an alliance with a European nation, angry at my declaration that I would marry you. I thought if we had our own ceremony, just the two of us, and if we had the privilege of creating a new life, it would force him to accept us. We could also create a new and peaceful life for both of our nations.
You took me to a cave and we sat alone. How my hand trembled as you held It. How comforting it felt to be wrapped up in your shawl, and how impossible it was to imagine my life without you. It still is. Yours, Agnarr
***
At the end of the second week, Thea and Linnea came to visit. Linnea and Elsa played outside while Thea and Iduna took tea in a private area of the grounds.
“I’m surprised the king’s not here. Elias said council meetings were cancelled last week and this week too. No one has seen him for some time. I half thought I would find him here when we arrived!”
Iduna shook her head. “No. He’s been to visit, but not to stay.” She looked at Thea, deciding if she could share the reason why. But if she told her, would she be in danger too?
For the first time, she understood Agnarr’s decision to keep her identity hidden. But it didn’t give her any relief.
***
“Agnarr. Ag! Wake up!” Elias entered the king’s bedchambers, waving off the guard and servants. He shut the door behind him and moved to open the tightly drawn curtains. The sunlight streamed in on a sorry sight.
Agnarr was lying face down on the bed, clad only in trousers. Elias looked to the heaps of clothing on the floor, the trays of untouched food, full glasses of water, and the two bottles of akvavit uncorked, empty, and lying on their sides.
He sat on the bed next to Agnarr and began slapping the soles of his feet. “Sit up, Ag. Get up!”
Agnarr groaned and rolled over, putting an arm over his eyes. He made a move to sit up, but groaned again instead.
“Thea sent me here. She visited Iduna this week and could tell something was wrong, though Iduna didn’t say what. She told me to come here and fix whatever it was so her friend won’t be so sad anymore. So you see? You’re making a liar of me too. Because I can guess what this is about. And if I’m right, I won’t be able to tell my wife the truth. So thanks for that.”
Agnarr remained silent, but managed to move into a sitting position. He cradled his head in his hands and leaned his elbows on his knees.
Elias’s voice was sharp, his words meant to hurt. “Thea was always talking about how romantic it was, the two of you, and how amazing Iduna told her the…physical aspect of your relationship was. How intuitive you were.” He snorted and shook his head. “And I'll never tell her it's because you've loved Iduna since you were fourteen and were handfasted at twenty-four, and married a whole year before this fiasco began to unfold.”
Agnarr blindly groped for one of the glasses of water, knocking one over but grabbing one next to it. He drank slowly, eyes closed.
“Did she find out? She knows who she is and she knows you lied about it?”
Agnarr set the glass down and turned to face his friend. Elias saw the red rimmed eyes, the unshaven cheeks, the sunken look of him. “I've ruined it. I've ruined us.” His voice was raw. “And now she has no one and our child won't know me. And why should she? A liar and a coward is all I am. Better fatherless than to have me.”
Elias was silent a moment and then moved to put an arm around his friend. “What will you do? Is it really beyond fixing?”
Agnarr took a short breath, his breath hitching and his voice held a strange timber as he replied. “I don’t know.”
“Give her time, Ag.” Elias sighed. “Keep apologizing and give her time.”
***
He kept writing and at the end of every week he came to the Sommerhus to hand-deliver letters about Northuldra customs and the details of her family in the Enchanted Forest. Iduna would read them and then burn them as she looked out of the upstairs window as Agnarr and Elsa played outside. Father and daughter would walk through the fields or woods, stopping to inspect interesting insects and beautiful flowers and the feel of a small creek. Iduna could see them from her upstairs window. She would pause in her reading to see Agnarr with his shirt sleeves rolled up, holding the flowers that Elsa picked or lifting her high onto his shoulders so she could get a better view of a woodpecker. There were times she wanted to go and hold his hand, to run her fingers along the familiar curve of his forearms she so admired. But after he read their daughter fairy tales and rocked her to sleep, he slept on the floor in her room on a pile of blankets and cushions. And, after silently checking in on them, Iduna would retire to the room where she slept alone.
***
My Dearest Iduna,
My greatest fear, other than harm coming to you or Elsa, is that Elsa’s magic was given to her because I lied to you. Did the spirits see my actions and give us a child with magic so that I would tell you about your ties to a land so blessed with it? If so, they must want to punish me greatly for failing that twice. And I want to punish myself. But Elias, who has known all of this, says it is not helpful. That I should be patient and contrite. So I will be. Because you deserve that and so much more. Yours, Agnarr
***
“Happy Birthday, Elsa!” Linnea jumped out of the sled as soon as it pulled up to the Sommerhus. Elsa waved and Iduna shouted from the front steps.
“It’s so cold! Hurry inside!”
Captain Calder helped his wife down from the sled and then collected a pile of brightly wrapped presents from underneath their seats. They hurried to the warmth of the house, shucking their coats and hats and mittens and knocking snow from their boots as they came through the door.
“Are Elias and Thea here yet? The roads are treacherous today.”
Iduna took the topmost packages and shook her head. “No, not yet. But they might have waited on Agnarr to join them. And I’m sure Elias will ask the driver to go slowly. He has been so cautious since Thea began to show.”
Linnea took a present from her father’s arms and gave it to Elsa. “Open this one now! I made it for you!”
Elsa took the package and hugged it to her chest. “Thank you!”
Iduna laughed. “You’ll have to show her what to do. She doesn’t know she has to open it.”
Linnea pulled at the ribbon and it fell to the floor, and then pulled at a corner of the wrapping until it ripped. “Now your turn!”
Elsa looked doubtful about the wisdom of ripping the paper, but did as she was told and soon discovered a fabric doll, with a blue dress, yellow hair, and a small crown on its head. Elsa hugged it to herself. “Baby!”
Linnea smiled. “Yes, a babydoll! I made her look like you, only I had to guess at the hair color since you’re still mostly bald. And I used one of my old dresses for her dress so she is a very fancy baby doll. Shall we go show her your room?”
They ran upstairs, the other presents on the pile forgotten. Iduna breathed a sigh of happiness, a tight feeling in her chest at Elsa’s delight, and bent down to pick up the strips of wrapping paper that had scattered on the floor, like bright and cheerful snowflakes. “She loves it when Linnea comes. I think she gets lonely here.”
Mrs. Calder tilted her head and looked at Iduna. “Agnarr hasn’t joined you here yet?”
Iduna looked down, looking to where Captain Calder had stacked the remaining presents. “No, it’s been too difficult for him to leave the castle.” A blush was creeping up her neck and she pressed the wrapping and ribbon into a ball and worried it with her hands.
Mrs. Calder looked to her husband, who cleared his throat and changed the subject. “I’m fairly certain Agnarr was bald for the first two years of his life. It’s quite common in children with light-colored hair.”
A gust of cold air swept in as Thea, Elias, and Agnarr came inside. “Did I just hear someone call me bald?”
Captain Calder laughed and clapped him on the back. “Happy birthday to your little one! Two years old!”
Hugs and greetings were passed around as everyone discussed the snow, the cold, and the delight of celebrating a birthday with the happy royal family. Agnarr and Iduna shared an awkward look, and Agnarr leaned over to kiss Iduna’s cheek in greeting. She stayed very still, hands grasping the ball of paper, unsure if she should respond or not, wishing her body wasn’t longing for more touch from Agnarr, the heat from his kiss making her feel as if the whole room had been warmed.
Thea groaned. “Having children is a blessing, but being pregnant is surely a curse of biblical proportions. Elias, help me take my coat off.”
Mrs. Calder and Elias both helped her, and then ushered her into a chair by the fire and Iduna excused herself to get her a glass of water. She listened to their voices as Captain Calder mused about the state of the roads, Elias wondered whether or not the driver needed help settling the horses in the barn, and Thea and Mrs. Calder decided if it was better to sit close to the fire and prevent a chill or further from it so as not to get overheated. Iduna smiled, glad to hear the voices of friends, of her family.
“Iduna.”
She turned and saw Agnarr, his hands behind his back. She wished she hadn’t discarded the ball of paper. Bunching it in her hands to conceal her emotions had felt satisfying in a way holding a glass of water did not. Her heart sped up and she wondered if he had a new letter for her. She wondered if he would kiss her, hug her, hold her, now that the Calders were here to see their interactions.
She wondered if she wanted that.
“I didn’t write a letter this time; with the Calders here, I…”
She nodded in understanding, trying to keep any look of disappointment from her face. Today was for Elsa, not her. “Of course.”
“But also, with the Calders here I thought we could, if you want to of course, and only if you feel comfortable, we could tell them about your origins. Elias knows already and I know you think of them as family. We can trust them. And I don’t think it would endanger them, with Lord Hannesel off the council and public opinion slowly changing.”
“If we can trust them, why didn’t you tell them three years ago?”
A faint redness appeared on Agnarr’s neck and he nodded quickly to her, almost a bow. “I should have. I should have told you too. Every day I think about how I could have gone about this all differently. What I could have done better. What I could have done right.”
Iduna handed him the glass of water. “Bring this to Linnea? I’ll get the glogg ready for everyone else. I gave the staff the week off since the weather looked to be so bad. I knew they’d want to be home with their families.”
Agnarr took the offered glass. “Think about it? You don’t need to give me an answer, now or…you know, ever. But think about it.”
Their fingers touched as the glass passed between them and Iduna felt a shiver run through her. She turned quickly so he wouldn’t see the confusion on her face.
Wasn’t she still mad at him for lying to her?
“Yes, I’ll think about it.”
She heard his footsteps and the conversation in the other room growing in volume as his voice was added to it. She knew she had a lot to think about. What was easy to ignore while playing with a toddler all day was harder to ignore now. As she poured raisins and almonds to the glogg on the stovetop, the feeling of safety Agnarr’s touch gave had stayed with her. She did feel safe with him. He had done all he could to keep her safe, both during the battle and every day after. He had done all he could to make life safe for Northuldra in Arendelle, whether or not the mist ever opened. He was a good man, a just king, and a devoted father. And she could forgive his mistake.
Through his letters she had fallen in love with him in new ways. Learning all she had lost was a heartbreak, but what she didn’t have to lose was him.
She didn’t have to be without family, either. The Calders loved her, and would keep loving her even if they knew her past the way Agnarr did. She could trust them and not shut them out in fear.
***
After a cold walk with Elsa pushing her new baby doll sleigh around the yard, eating cake, and Agnarr playing his violin while Elsa spun and danced in delight, it was time for her to go to bed. Iduna picked her up and carried her to each guest for a goodnight kiss and then she and Agnarr took her upstairs.
Iduna laid her in her crib and watched as Elsa’s chubby arm slung around the baby doll’s neck, pulling it closer and breathing deeply. Agnarr reached into his violin case and took out a red and purple shawl, soft and trimmed with fringe. He covered Elsa with it and ran his hand up and down Elsa’s side, humming the tune he had been playing on the violin a few moments before. She smiled and closed her eyes. Agnarr straightened.
“That’s my present to her. And you too, really. I had a weaver make a shawl like the one your mother gave you when you were born. I know it’s not the same, but you can tell her about your family and maybe this will help.”
Iduna reached over and ran her hands along it, feeling Elsa’s sleeping body and wishing she could remember being wrapped up in her mother’s shawl, safe and protected, loved and cherished.
“Thank you.” She looked at him and hoped he could see in the low light that she truly was thankful. That it was a thoughtful gift that she would treasure and one that proved again how much he valued that part of who she was. She hoped he could tell she wanted to say more but didn’t want to wake their daughter or break this spell of calm and quiet, of understanding and maybe even forgiveness that felt like a shawl around her shoulders. “And I thought about it. I think we should tell the Calders. This weekend while they are staying here. But maybe not tonight. I’m tired.”
Agnarr nodded. “Would you like to go to bed now? I can give them your excuses and show them to their rooms if you’re too tired. I’ll go sleep with the drivers in the guesthouse.”
Iduna stepped towards him and reached for his hand, the same sensation of safety and calm reigning over her as it had earlier in the day, as it did every time they touched. “No. You can show them their rooms but then come to our bed.” She turned and left the room, heat building in her cheeks and in her stomach and she wasn’t brave enough to look in his eyes and see what he thought about that.
***
“They’re all settled. And I looked in on Elsa just now - she’s asleep.” He shut the door gently behind him and looked around the room, still not quite sure if Iduna had meant for him to share their bed. Was it merely for appearances? So they had one less thing to explain to the Calders tomorrow? He looked around the room, searching for something to say. Something to break the awkward silence. “The room is so clean and orderly. It doesn’t even look like anyone has been staying here.”
Iduna was sitting on the bed, changed into her nightclothes. “I haven’t been. I stayed in the room next to Elsa’s. I didn’t want to stay where we once had.”
“Oh.” He winced, sorry again for how he had hurt her, once more wishing he had made a different choice.
She looked at him and then spoke quickly. “No, I don’t mean that I was angry with you. I missed you.” She paused and took a breath. “Well, I was also angry with you. But I didn’t want to be in our bed without you.” She put her hand down next to her on the bed. “Will you come sit? I think better when I’m touching you.”
He laughed a little as he came to her and sat down, their thighs touching and her head even with his shoulder. “I have a hard time thinking when you’re touching me. Except about how much I want to be touching you.” She leaned into him, her head on his shoulder.
“When I touch you, it’s almost like remembering. I know I’m meant to be with you. That it’s right.” Agnarr turned his head so he could kiss her on the top of her head. He brought his hand up and ran it through her long hair. It was unwound from the neat crown braids she usually wore as queen and reminded him of the way it had been in the forest.
“Your hair was like this when I first met you. Down and a little wild. Wavy and dark and beautiful. I was staring so much at how it moved in the wind that I fell into the river because I wasn’t looking at how close I was to the bank.”
Iduna laughed. “You didn’t write about that in any letters!”
He brought his hand to her shoulder, running it up and down her arm. “Some things were too embarrassing to commit to paper.”
Iduna reached to his face and cupped her hand around his cheek. She ran her thumb over his mustache, back and forth and back and forth, like she was soothing his worry. “Thank you for giving me all of those memories. And for all of the ones here in Arendelle that I can recall – being your queen, being the mother of our daughter, knowing the Calders. That’s all thanks to you.”
His hand stilled. “Iduna, I’m so sorry. Truly.”
She stood and nudged his knees apart to stand between them and then brought both hands up to this face. “I forgive you. And I love you.”
He gripped her under the thighs and lifted her up so she was seated on his lap, chests pressed against each other and her legs around him. He buried his face into her chest but she could still hear his whisper. “I certainly don’t deserve it. But I love you too. I wish I had the words to tell you how much.”
She leaned to his ear, kissing it on the lobe and shivering at the feel of his hands on her back, the movement of his hips into hers. “It’s not your words I want right now.”
***
The Calders didn’t seem surprised or upset to hear that Iduna was Northuldra. Captain Calder even suggested that they tell the council. “They, like everyone else in the kingdom, love the queen. And they will see it as a chance to strengthen the statement of peace: naming the queen as Northuldra and your marriage as an alliance that respects and honors their people.”
Mrs. Calder hugged Iduna tightly. “Our love for you has not changed. Perhaps richer now for the truth of things, but not changed.”
“It makes sense.” Linnea spoke as she reached to pick Elsa up out of Iduna’s lap. “Is that why Elsa can make ice?”
The adults in the room all stared at her. Her mother spoke first. “She can…do what?”
Agnarr cleared his throat. “Yes, it seems she can make ice. And snow as well. But it’s not a known gift among the Northuldra and we don’t know what it means. We don’t know if the power will strengthen or fade as time goes on and she grows up.”
Thea reached to take Elsa from Linnea. “Show us, Elsa, dear. Show us the snow.”
Poul Henningsen (Sept. 9, 1894 - 1967), affectionately known as PH, was an outstanding Danish designer, architect, song-writer and cultural critic. He was a true multi-talent, and much of what he created remains iconic and in production today.
Here we have him with his wife in a summer house he designed for the Swedish company Myresjöhus who wanted to create a cheap, functionalist holiday home of no more than 50m2. PH designed it and within 24 days from the finished sketches the house was built in Skagen.
We see several of PH’s iconic lamps in the living room, and some excellent furniture as well.
In addition, PH wrote the lyrics to some of the best-loved cabaret songs in the Danish revue canon, including the tragi-comic “Ølhunden” (”The Beer Hound”) from 1929, and the 1940 anti-censorship, anti-Nazist anthem “Man binder os paa Mund og Haand (men man kan ikke binde Aand)”...
Visited the Sommerhus on Monday night and gave a little Christmas gift to Elsa! Also to celebrate the 4th anniversary of Frozen! 😊😊 #sommerhus #elsa #frozen #christmas #wdw #waltdisneyworld #disneyworld #epcot (at Royal Sommerhus)
