#the resilient

[angelicapocalypse]

[the-spaztic-fantastic]

The Resilient (8/8)

As Elsa approaches her thirteenth birthday, Agnarr and Iduna must strike a balance between keeping her powers concealed from King Runeard and preparing her to one day rule Arendelle. Still reeling from his son’s betrayal over the treatment of the Northuldra over a decade ago, Runeard is intent on molding Elsa into a future monarch of his own design and making a match for her with a suitable candidate.  Inspired by a prompt from @wandering-bard-from-the-id

Chapter 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 and on A03

A/N:  Thank you so much @fericita-s who deserves to be made the Patron Saint of Beta Readers.  Thus concludes the second part of the Bound Series.  The Prologue for the third part and final part of the series, The Victorious, will post shortly.  God speed to the readers who’ve kept reading this thing.

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           “Elsa?”  Honeymaren’s tentative voice broke through her reverie.  

           She had been awake before dawn again, wrenched from sleep by the nightmare of Grandpa collapsing in death.  She had checked on her mother, who was still staring into the darkness with a blank expression, sleepless and tear streaked.  Elsa had tucked the blankets tighter around her shoulders and given her a kiss on the cheek, slipping past her sleeping grandmother and stepping over Destin who had insisted on snoring right outside their door.  Someone had placed a blanket of reindeer hide over him.  She had waved off Nokk and Bruni, wandering with her thoughts to the edge of the lake.

           It had a difficult, endless week.

           “What are you doing awake?”  She asked as her friend drew closer.

           “Sleeping next to Ryder is like sleeping next to an Earth Giant or an avalanche.”  Honeymaren shrugged.  “I’m an early riser.”  

           “Oh.”

           “This is probably a stupid question.”  Honeymaren shifted her weight uncomfortably, wringing her hands.  “But how are you doing?”

           “How am I doing?”  Elsa glanced at her friend.  She thought a moment.  No one had asked her.  “I’m . . .”  Her voice failed her.  She was sleeping.  She was eating.  She was leaving the kota.  So she was doing better than her mother.  Elsa shrugged helplessly.

           They stared out across the dark expanse of water in silence.  A faint mist clung to its surface, wispy and white.  A far cry from the impenetrable purple canopy that had engulfed the sky and seemed to have formed a solid wall around their lands.  Yelena was still waiting for the scouting parties to report in from the most far-flung regions.

           Elsa had told her that it was pointless to search for weaknesses in the mist.  That there was no way through and she had no idea how to create a way through, even if she was certain she was the one who had caused it to happen.  She had felt it when it happened.  When she had seen Grandpa stagger and collapse.  As though part of her soul had been shriven from her very core.  Her own rage and grief and the very primordial fury of the spirits at the senseless violence as it had rushed through her and exploded into the sky.  She still didn’t have the words to describe it.  But Yelena had said that they would search regardless.  That they had to know if they were safe or if Arendelle could find a weak point to push through.

           “People are saying you’re the Fifth Spirit.”  Honeymaren bit her lip and looked her in the eye.  Elsa froze.  “Nobody remembers anything like this ever happening.  Not even in the stories.  But with your family and your powers-“  

           Elsa scowled and snorted.  

           “I’m just saying, Elsa, you saved everyone.”

           “No.”  She laughed bitterly, throat tight and eyes burning.  “No, I didn’t.”

           “You did!”

           “My Grandpa is alive, is he?”  She could feel the tears starting to slip down her face.  She clenched her jaw.  “I stopped my Grandfather from killing him?  The spirits stopped it?”  She shook her head and looked away.  “I didn’t save everyone.  All that I did was trap everyone in here.”

           “Better to be trapped in here than trapped out there!”

           “Like my sister?”  Her breath hitched and Honeymaren’s face fell.

           “I didn’t-“

           “Like my father?”  Elsa sobbed.  She took several rapid, painful breaths.  “We just left them.  We just left them there and ran.  I just left Anna with Grandfather.  You don’t know – you don’t know what he’s like!  What he wanted me to do.  And now – now he’s going to –“  She broke down.  Honeymaren stepped forward and pulled her into a tight embrace.  Not even her grandmother or mother had hugged her since Grandpa had died.  The reassuring warmth washed over her and Elsa gripped her friend tightly.  “He’s got Anna now.”

           “Anna has your father.”

           “I don’t know what to do!”  She began to weep as all the fears and feelings she had hidden inside over the past several days broke forth in an ugly flood, a wave of grief so high and powerful that it threatened to wash her away with it.  Honeymaren held her steady and let her cry.

           “We’ll figure it out.”  

                              *          *          *          *          *

           Agnarr closed his eyes as he rested his forehead against the rough stone floor of the dungeon and tried to focus on breathing through his nose.  The leather gag dried his mouth out quickly and today, whatever day this was, his father was making him wait.  His arms and shoulders ached from being fastened behind him for most of his days.  He considered himself lucky that they let him sleep with them manacled where his belt buckle should be.

           There was a routine now.

           Three guards would rouse him by shouting from the door.  He would lie flat on the ground, legs straight.  They would undo his manacles and leave his morning meal.  He would remove the gag and eat what he could with his aching jaw as quickly as possible.  He was forbidden from speaking to them.  When he had tried to speak to them that first day – or, rather, what he thought had been the first day – one had doubled him over with a blow to the gut.  And his father had warned him that the guards would continue to beat him if Agnarr persisted.

           He would put the gag back in and place his forehead on the floor, arms behind him.  They would return and put the manacles back on, locking them at the small of his back.  There was a short length of chain that allowed him to sit on the bed, pace if he could stand the clattering of the iron, and look out a small window at the harbor.  At some point during the day, he would lie flat on his stomach and they would unchain him so he could eat again, drink, and use the small chamber pot.  Just before bed, they would chain his hands in front of him so he could sleep.

           The humidity from the water was stifling.  He knew that he stank.  He was always parched.  They had torn his shirt to rags when he had been stripped of all insignia.  The thin, tattered cloth clinging to his skin had driven him so mad that he had finally just torn off what was left during one of his few moments where he was unshackled.

           Agnarr could feel the thin rivulets of sweat rolling down his back.  His neck.  His face.  Dripping down his eyes and nose.  The salt of it stinging where the chains and cuffs had rubbed his skin raw.  His legs were cramping under him, spine screaming at the agony of the unnatural position and unbalanced weight.

           Not a damn bit of it was anything compared to the pain of knowing just how miserably he had failed to protect his wife and daughters.  He knew that his father had Anna somewhere.  He hoped and prayed that she was safe, that she was sticking to the lies he had instructed her to tell, that she was being compliant so the king would be kind to her.  But no one had told him anything of Elsa or where his wife might be.

           He could only assume that when he had been captured, they were still on the run.  He hoped with every fiber of his miserable being that they had made it to the forest.  Valde would protect them.  The Northuldra would protect them if only they could make it.  The longer his endless days drifted into one another, the more he began to hope and believe that they were safe.  That they had reached the forest and the protection that the spirits could offer.  Runeard might try to kill Elsa quietly – even if the people of Arendelle believed she was a witch, she was still a young girl and had been popular enough with the townspeople.  It would be a hard thing to have them quietly accept the execution of a child.

           But if his father had captured Iduna, Agnarr had no doubt that she would die in front of him.  That his father would have her throat slit or erect gallows to hang her or fold her over the executioner’s block and force him to watch as his wife was killed.  If that hadn’t happened yet, it could only be because Runeard had not captured her.  He clung to that hope.

           He flexed his hands.  They had stripped him of his wedding band.  If he made it out of here, he was going to find out what had happened to it.  And to get it back.

           The door swung open and the heavy trod of boots announced the entry of several people.  He tensed.  The first day, one of the guards had kicked him and demanded he bow to the king, before his father had waved the man off and claimed that his son’s mind was too addled from “the enchantress” to expect such civilities.  He heard the clack of a wooden chair being placed somewhere before him.

           “You may go.”  His father’s voice was calm and the chair creaked as he sat in it.  Agnarr tried to control his breathing as he bit into the gag.  He wanted to tear the man limb from limb.  He listened as the guards withdrew and shut the heavy door behind them.  He kept his forehead against the ground.

           “For God’s sake, Agnarr, get up.”  His father ordered.  He lifted his head slowly, back and neck crackling as he painfully shifted into a sitting position.  His father watched him as he managed to cross his legs and sit with his arms still bound behind him.  He stared up sullenly at the man, who sat with his arms folded and an infuriating half-smile.  

           “You look like hell, my boy,” he spoke in a jovial tone.  Agnarr did his best to shrug.  The chains clanked.  Runeard huffed a laugh and placed his hands on his knees.  “Right.  Well.  This is going to be a one-way conversation anyway, so I think it’s best to leave that gag in for now.”

           He paused and licked his lips.

           “Has anyone told you what’s become of your wife and eldest daughter?”

           Agnarr shook his head and Runeard sighed.

           “Well, I’m sure you figured out I didn’t catch them before they made it to those damn woods.”  He choked and nearly vomited into the gag, the relief flooding through him.  He felt his eyes sting.  He tucked his chin against his chest and took a moment to compose himself.  When he looked back up, his father was sneering at him.  “Christ, get a hold of yourself, Agnarr.  Act like a man and not some love-sick boy.”

           Agnarr grunted.  

           “As far as I know, they’re both alive.”  Runeard smiled and Agnarr’s blood ran cold at the way his mouth curled.

           “Valde’s not,” he said lightly.  A wave of nausea twisted Agnarr’s stomach.  “I shot that bastard myself.”  Runeard shrugged.  “Right in the back with a crossbow bolt.”  Agnarr blinked rapidly and let out a short breath through his nose.

           “Oh, don’t make that face.  I was aiming for Iduna.  Valde was just stupid enough to step in the way at the wrong time.”  His mind spun. It felt like the world was falling away from him.  What the hell had happened while he had been imprisoned here?  His father was still speaking.  “-not entirely sure what happened, but there’s some magical shield that we can’t get through.  Obviously, we’re still trying.  But the Northuldra are in there and we’re out here.”

           Agnarr knitted his brow.  What?

           “So I have a proposition for you.”  Runeard drummed his fingers against his knee.  “Frankly, I would love to disinherit you now.  Just keep you in here.  Lose the key.  But Anna hasn’t stopped crying and asking about you.  She misses you.  And Marte Gundersen reminded me that I did arrange your marriage to that Northuldra bitch so – this proposal of hers might work.”  He leaned forward and lightly slapped Agnarr’s stubbled cheek.  “Now pay attention.”

           “There are three ways you’ll leave this dungeon.  The first is you die and it looks like an accident.  To be honest, I’m not keen on that one because given how you’re trussed up like a fresh kill.  It’d be hard for people to believe it.  That it was an accident, I mean.  I’d hold a state funeral so they could see your body after it’s cleaned up a bit.  But still, a bit of a stretch, don’t you think?”  

           “The second way –“  He held up two fingers.   “Is that I declare you insane, unfit to rule and I pack you off to an asylum on the continent for the best possible treatment and care.  Personally, I’m a fan of this one but Marte insists that it will turn Anna dour.  And I’m not a cruel man.  I don’t want my sweet granddaughter to be miserable.  Also, Marte thinks it would make it harder to marry her off if there’s rumors of insanity in the family and that it would cost us a small fortune in bribes to ensure that you remained locked away in a madhouse.”

           Agnarr stared at his father, chest heaving and ears ringing.  

           “The third option – the one that Marte seems to think will work – is that you denounce your wife and disown your daughter.  Iduna was an enchantress and had us all fooled.  Even me.”  He waved a hand.  “I don’t believe that, of course, I think she was a traitorous, savage cunt who used all of us.”  Runeard sighed and cracked his knuckles.  “But like I said earlier – I don’t believe that you were part of her plot.  I don’t believe that you knew what she was doing.  And you’re my son.”  He cleared his throat.  “So.  If you denounce her.  If you claim that she had you entranced and that now with the Northuldra cut off in their magical bubble, your senses have magically returned to you and you’re thinking clearly for the first time in years – then you can walk out that door a free man.  And Anna will have her father back.”

           He felt rooted to the spot, unable to lift his gaze from the floor.  

           “I’ll give you an hour to think it over.”  His father coughed and stood.  “And do think it over, Agnarr.  Think about Anna.  And what her life would be like if you’re not there for her.  What that would do to her.”

           Agnarr remained still, muscles taut, as his father banged on the dungeon door.  As soon as it slammed shut, he closed his eyes and slumped to the floor.

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           Runeard dismissed the guards and waited until they were gone to press his ear against the door.  He could hear Agnarr’s chains rattle and the high, erratic whine of his breathing through the gag.  He smiled. Let the fool weep.  He tapped the splintered wood with his fingers and chuckled before turning to head down the corridor.  His footsteps echoed off the stones until he reached the stairway where the guards sat at their small table, playing cards.  He nodded in passing as they stood and bowed.

           He felt like he was practically floating up the steps.  Stronger and more energetic than he had in years.  The Royal Physician had him on some concoction to counteract the worst effects of the foxglove, but Runeard was reasonably certain that this lightness of being came from victory.  Victory over those savage ingrates who had spurned his mercy and attempts to civilize them all those years ago.  Victory over that bitch who had failed to put him in an early grave.  Hell, even victory over the sway she held over his only son.  

           Agnarr would yield.

           He was certain of it.

           Agnarr would denounce her in front of Arendelle.  He would sign a proclamation.  He would sign the divorce decree.  He would tell Anna that her mother had betrayed their family.  He would see the light and renounce all ties to his beloved wife.

           And as much as he treasured the idea of that defiant ass wrapped in a straightjacket and slamming his head against the wall in a room with no windows for the rest of his days, far from the sun and his homeland – as much as Agnarr deserved that for his insubordination – Marte had made her point.  It would be easier with Anna if she had her father.

           “While I appreciate your feelings on Anna’s mother and sister, and I believe them to be entirely justified, she’s a nine-year-old child.  She can’t be expected to be logical about this.  They were a very tight-knit family.  She loved them.”  It had been a private meeting.  Just the two of them.  “If you don’t believe your son had any part in Iduna’s plot – and, to be blunt, I just don’t see him as being capable of trying to kill you – then publicly redeem him and let the girl have her father back.  It would be a huge comfort to her.  And for God’s sake, she hasn’t stopped crying since she was brought home!  It’s like nothing the staff has ever seen.  She’s always been so cheerful.”

           “Anna will get over it.”

           “She won’t, Your Majesty.”  Marte gave him a stern look.  “Little girls just don’t do that.”

           The following day, he had been mulling over Marte’s proposal when he had been notified that Anna was no longer eating.  He had gone to personally check on her and offer her some of her favorite foods.  Anything.  Even cake.  She hadn’t even responded to him, just lay under her covers with her arms curled around her knees, sniveling quietly.  It had been a truly pitiful sight.

           “King Runeard?”  Runeard glanced at the man waiting for him in the hallway.

           “General Sorsen.  Any news from the front?”

           “All of our scouts have returned, Your Majesty.  They were unable to find a way through the mist.”  Sorsen shook his head.  “Some kind of powerful dark magic.”

           “Hardly a surprise given all that we’ve recently learned.”  Runeard shrugged.  “Can we just use the old huts and stables from when the Northuldra were in their relocation settlements?”

           “Yes.”  Sorsen nodded.  “With your permission, we can start to refit the posts that exist close to the border.  I would also recommend that we build three new ones – small, but enough for two teams to maintain observation posts in the most remote areas.  Now, the cost will be –“

           “Whatever you need.”  Runeard waved a dismissive hand.  “Talk to Minister Gundersen and let me know if she gives you any push back.  Who knows what those savages are planning?  They could be planning another invasion for all we know.  Then the cost would be in more than coin..”

           “Thank you, Your Majesty.”

           Runeard continued on his way, past the staff and courtiers who scurried about their daily tasks.  He went directly to Anna’s room and rapped on the door, pausing a moment before he opened it.  He smiled.  She was out of bed today, sitting at the little bench under the window that looked out over the courtyard, one hand pressed against the glass and one in her lap.  Gerda had even managed to dress her and braid flowers into her hair.

           “You know, this was your father’s room when he was a boy,” Runeard said as he went to sit next to her.  She turned her face to him.  She was still disconcertingly pale, but she smiled faintly at his words for a brief moment.

           “Did you see Papa today?”    

           “Not yet, my dear.  The doctors are with him right now.”  He stroked her hair and took her tiny hands in his.  “I’ll go check on him a little later.”

           “Do you think I could come and see him too?”

           “Soon, Anna.  I think you’ll be able to see him soon.”  He smiled.  “The doctors are hopeful that whatever spell your mother had over him is fading.  That he won’t be a danger to himself any longer.”

           “So he won’t have to go away?”  She asked in a small, hopeful voice.

           “Exactly.”  He gave her hands a squeeze and gently pinched her cheeks.  “He’ll be just like his old self.”  Anna smiled – a true, broad, Anna smile – and Runeard couldn’t help but grin in return.  “I know you’ve missed him.”

           “I do.”  She nodded.  “But thank you for taking such good care of me, Grandfather.  I know I’ll always have you.”  She wrapped her tiny arms around him and he laughed, patting her on the back.

           “Of course, Anna.  We’re family, after all.”

                                *          *          *          *          *

           “Your Highness?”  Iduna sighed and shook her head at Destin’s cautious tone.  She turned from the cooking fire and forced herself to give him a smile.  It was small.  And it was tired.  But it did the trick.  He visibly relaxed and smiled back at her.

           “Destin.  You can just call me Iduna here.  All of you.”  She looked past him, but instead of the other cadets there was only Kaija, one of the Northuldra girls who was Destin’s age, holding a fishing pole.  “Tack an ‘aunt’ on, if it makes you feel better.”

           “Um, I’ll work on it.”  He fidgeted with his belt buckle.  She cocked her head as she realized the boy was half naked and barefoot with his pants rolled to just below his knees.

           “Destin, where’s your shirt?”

           “Oh, we were fishing!”  Kaija said emphatically, waving her arms behind Destin to get Iduna’s attention.  “Ryder told him how it honors the fish for the men to take off their shirts.”  For the first time since the mist had come down, Iduna let out a genuine laugh.  She had played the same trick on Agnarr at that age.  

           “Of course, of course,” she said and wiped her eyes.  She turned back to the fire and stirred the embers with a long stick.  “Of course that’s what you were doing.  Let me know if you catch anything and I’ll fry it up for you, hm?”

           “We will, thank you.”  Kaija bowed her head slightly and mouthed ‘thank you’.  She started to walk in the direction of the river, but Destin lingered.  Iduna looked back at him.

           “Are you doing alright?”  She asked.  He nodded,

           “I’m doing fine.  We’re all adjusting.  Yelena let us build two little kotas close together.  They’re a bit cramped though.  That’s part of why I’ve been sleeping outside of yours.  But, uh, Kaija invited me to stay with her since she has one all to herself.  I guess her brother got married last month just before everything happened?”  He shrugged and rubbed his neck.  “But we’re being treated really well.  Yelena vouched for us, I guess.  And since she’s in charge now-“  He winced.  “Sorry.”

           “You’ve nothing to apologize for, Destin,” she said mildly.  “Yelena is in charge now.”

           “No, I know.  Just with, uh, your father and everything.”  Destin dropped his gaze and shrugged again.  “Um, it’s good to see you.  Outside, I mean.  Doing things again.  Elsa has been really worried.  I mean, we’ve all been worried.  But her especially.”

           Iduna didn’t respond.  She kept her gaze on the feeble flames she was trying to coax into life.  Her mother had told her as much.  Had told her it was natural to mourn the loss of her father, as well as the loss of her husband and youngest daughter to the unknown of the Outside.  Her mother had empathized with her pain, was mourning the death of her husband, but that after four weeks Iduna had to get up and get out.  For Elsa.  And if she didn’t do it by the mid-day meal, Seita would get some of the young, strapping lads to carry her out on her sleeping roll and toss her into the lake.

           So here she was. Trying to start a cooking fire.

           “She’s probably off with Honeymaren.  They’ve gone down to the Southern border a few times already.  I think they’re trying to get through.”

           “There’s no way through,” she said softly.  Elsa had cried herself to sleep in Iduna’s arms several times.  The poor girl blamed herself.  “I’m sorry, Destin.”

           “I didn’t mean it like that.”  He swallowed and traced his toe in the dirt.  “Though – I mean, I wish I could tell Cecilia and my parents I’m safe.  They must be worried about me.  But they probably know I’m with you and Elsa, right?”

           “Destin!”  Kaija called from the edge of the village.  “Are you coming?”

           Iduna looked over at the young woman.  She wore the same look of cautious longing that Iduna imagined she wore all those years ago.  She nodded in Kaija’s direction.  “You should go with your friend.”

           “Yeah.”  Destin grinned and scratched his ears.

           “And you should consider her offer of a place to bunk.  I’ve heard Elsa trip over you a few times early in the morning.”

           “I guess.”  He laughed.  “I’ll think about it.  It seems pretty cramped in the cadet kotas.”  He crossed his arms and looked at her nervously.  “You sure you’re alright?”

           “I’ll be fine, Destin.  Go fish.”

           “We’ll bring you anything we catch.”  He called as he hurried off.

           She continued to methodically build the fire, trying to keep her mind on the task before her.  Still.  It was impossible not to think of the previous year when she had taught Anna how to prepare the logs so they would give off the least amount of smoke.  How she and Agnarr had fished in the same spot where Kaija was surely instructing Destin on how to spear a river trout.  But at least those thoughts were more pleasant, if still bittersweet, than the ruminations that had plagued her in the dark of what Runeard might be doing to them in Arendelle.

           “You’re finally outside.”  Iduna looked up at Yelena.  That was a gentle tone for her.

           “Yes.”

           “That’s . . .that’s good.”  Yelena kicked a rock away and folded her hands behind her back.  “I don’t know if you want to talk about your place on the Elder Council-“

           “I’m not interested in challenging you for the position of Chief Elder, Yelena.”

           “Right.”  Yelena stood there awkwardly as Iduna set up a small spit and kettle.

           “Is there something else?”

           “No.  No.  At some point, I’m sure you’ll want to sit on the Council.  Whenever you’re ready.”  A bird chittered somewhere in the distance.  “We’d be happy to have you.”  A small knot of children ran by and Yelena followed them with her eyes.  “Elsa has been spending a lot of time with the Nattura girl.  She looks like she’s adjusting well.”

           “This has always been her home as much as Arendelle.”

           “True.  The cadets are doing well enough.”  She squinted in the direction of the river.  “Very friendly bunch.  Very friendly.  All the young people are getting along . . .very well.”  Yelena scowled and Iduna sat back on her haunches to look at her while biting back a smirk.  “But they’re loyal to you and Elsa.  And they’ve no quarrel with us.”

           “Mother?”  They both turned towards Elsa’s voice.  She was approaching on Nokk, Honeymaren riding next to her on a reindeer.  Yelena nodded.

           “Well.  I’ll talk to you later then.  Give my best to your mother.  Honeymaren!”  She beckoned to the girl.  “Come with me.  I need a second set of eyes on the spring calves.”

           “It’s good to see you out and about,” Elsa said softly as she slid off the Nokk’s glittering back.

           “Did – did you freeze Nokk, my darling?”  Iduna huffed a small laugh.  Elsa’s cheeks turned pink.  “That’s very clever.  I thought you could only ride it on the water.”

           “I – I figured it out two years ago.”  She gestured towards the river.  “Kaija and her friends are playing pranks on the cadets.  They told them that they needed to take their shirts off to ‘honor the fish’ when they caught them.”

           “Oh, I hope you didn’t ruin their fun.”  Iduna smiled fondly at the memory of Agnarr splashing around as a youth, all elbows and sunburn.  Elsa grinned.

           “No.  Destin asked if it was really to honor the fish and I told him that it was a way to save face because most of the Northuldra men don’t own more than one or two shirts and don’t want to ruin them in the water.”  Iduna smiled as Elsa giggled.  “I told him the ‘diplomatically astute’ thing to do would be to play along.”

           “Good.  It’s a time-honored tradition to tell Arendellians and visitors from other tribes about ‘honoring the fish’.  I used to do it with your father when we were your age.”  Elsa sat next to her and crossed her legs.

           “Will you tell me about it?”

           Iduna smiled, and then she did.

                               *          *          *          *          *

           Anna neatly folded the cloth napkin over her lap as Grandfather settled into his dining chair.  Papa waited until the king was seated before sitting across from her.  She smiled furtively at him and he smiled back.  It was good to see him looking well-fed and rested again, even with the shadows around his eyes.

           They were never left alone with one another.

           She turned to Grandfather and gave him her brightest smile.  He beamed at her and reached out to pat her cheek.

           “You did very well today, Anna.”

           “Thank you, Grandfather.”  It had taken the Council nearly three months to finalize the paperwork that stripped Elsa of any claim to the Crocus Throne and recognized Anna as the Heir Presumptive after Papa.  

           “As such, I have a surprise for you.”  Anna kept the expectant smile plastered on her face.  Grandfather was proving remarkably easy to handle, despite her initial fears.  All she had to do was smile, say thank you, act like she asked him for permission for anything she wanted to do, ask him questions she knew the answer to already and enjoy every piece of chocolate cake he gave her.  Although, to be fair, she enjoyed the cake.  She didn’t think Mama or Elsa or Papa would mind.  He raised an eyebrow.  “Do you want to guess what it is?”

           “A piece of double chocolate cake?”

           “No.”  He said.  “But there’s some for dessert.”

           “Yay!”  She tilted her head and bit her lip as she thought. “A new doll?”

           “No, but that’s a good guess.”  He took a sip of his wine.  “You have a birthday coming up.”

           “Yes!  I’m turning double-digits!”  Papa smiled at that and Grandfather looked at him.

           “That’s right.  And I spoke with your Father and he’s agreed that throwing you a big birthday ball would be a wonderful idea.”

           Anna gasped and covered her mouth with her hands.  Any other time and she would have been delighted to have her very own ball with people attending from all over Arendelle and the world beyond.  And it was important that Grandfather believe she still felt that way.  But she couldn’t stop her heart from sinking at the thought that her mother and sister wouldn’t be there.  Her eyes stung and she could see a worried expression flicker across Papa’s face.

           “Thank you!”  She gave Grandfather a watery smile and wiped her eyes quickly on the back of her hand.  “I just never thought I’d get my own ball!”

           “Well of course you’ll get your own ball, my dear.  There are any number of eager young princes who would love to meet you.  And starting tomorrow, you’ll be sitting for your first official portrait.”

           Grandfather had all the ones with Mama and Elsa burned.  She hadn’t realized until they were all cast into a bonfire in the courtyard that there wasn’t a single painting of her and Papa without them.

           “Papa too?”

           “No, Anna.”  Papa sounded exhausted.  “This will be a special portrait.  Just for you.”

           “Don’t sound so excited, Agnarr,” Grandfather muttered.  He cleared his throat.  “I’ve hired one of the finest artists from France to come and paint it.  Now, how does all of that sound?”

           “It sounds wonderful.”

           Anna spoke like her life depended on it.

[panelun]

[thesoundshelter]

Artist : Betraying the Martyrs

Title : The Resilient

Album : The Resilient

Year : 2017

[astoriawho]

The rollercoaster ride that is fanfiction: Dramione edition.

warning: vague spoilage ahead

As some of you may know, the Dramione fic “an Aversion to Change” by misdemeanor1331/mel88 fucked me up. Scarred me for life, as it probably has you also, if you’ve read it. I’ve sat up out of a dead sleep and thought about that fic. Straigh. Up. Haunted. After an ending that sucked my soul dementor style from my body, it was like here, read this sequel! Not in this lifetime, I said. Hell to the no. Fool me once. Not with a ten foot pole.

Fast forward a couple years. It’s been a minute since I’ve read a fic. A long minute. Too long. I was searching for a fic, something particular, even though I wasn’t sure what it was. I was scrolling when there it was; “The Resilient”, sequel to “an Aversion to Change”. Something happened. I needed closure. Desperately. But how do you get closure from something that already ended with such finality? Where do you go from there? I had to know. I clicked it.

Finished the entire thing in a day. Best. Decision. Ever. Really though, I feel SO much better. I may even sleep better. It eradicated a dark splotch from my heart. It’s not as if I always require a happily ever after in every fic I read, but the sheer fuckery of how the first installment ended, it got me. Truly didn’t beleive there was any coming back from that. It was not a “to be continued” type ending. It was throw some dirt on it, it’s done type of ending. But somehow this author played my emotions like a fiddle. Split my heart in two, then stuffed in some extra goo and sewed me up good as new. Why did I wait so long? I am no longer living in fear, tiptoeing around that sequel. It is now one of my favorite set of fics. So despite my previous warnings, do read it. Both of them.

[arielrpt]

Character Aesthetic ➔The Resilient

"Resilient people immediately look at the problem and say, ‘What’s the solution to that? What is this trying to teach me?’”

[the-spaztic-fantastic]

The years between The Conquered and The Resiient. Dish.

Haha.  Where to begin?  Also, you know I ramble, right?  Good.

Runeard was absolutely thrilled that Iduna got pregnant and within the first year of their marriage.  He tried to put her on lockdown again – “for her own good” – but Agnarr shut that down.  She was allowed to move about Arendelle at her heart’s content and to go visit Halima – although she did concede to having an armed escort with her.  When Elsa was born, she and Agnarr were over the moon.  Even Runeard was happy.  He was a little disappointed that it was a girl, but Elsa was a healthy and beautiful baby and proof that his son was virile and that Iduna could successfully carry and give birth.  He figured it’d be no time at all before they popped out a male heir.

From the Land Reform aspect – it’s a really good thing that Iduna was able to announce her pregnancy as soon as they got back from the North because Runeard was LIVID.  They rolled up at the head of a freakin’ mile-long wagon train packed with trade goods.  Marte and Piers made a killing and so did most of the merchants in Arendelle.  The kingdom was flush with cash in ways that hadn’t been predicted and Agnarr ensured that a lot of it was directed towards public work projects and that people damn well knew the money came from the taxes the Northuldra paid.  For their land.  Which they were moving back to (had already moved back to thanks to Agnarr arranging for sympathetic units and unit commanders to be present during the handover).

So the Northuldra peaced out of their reservations (most before Agnarr and Iduna even got home) and back to the Enchanted Forest where Runeard wasn’t going to invade because a) Earth Giants and b) the people of Arendelle loved this communal wealth.  Those land seizures he planned would have resulted in some public show of largess, but nothing compared to what your average Arendellian saw from Agnarr’s plan.  So the chap on the street isn’t exactly chomping at the bit to go invade the north.

Since Runeard couldn’t openly lash out at his son (because the line of succession is about to be strengthened through the birth of this baby and he doesn’t want to destabilize his kingdom), he purged the Council and other civic organizations.  He pulled the licenses and rights for some of the traders and merchants.  Piers wound up leaving Arendelle.  Marte survived because she is exceedingly good at her job and was able to quote on the spot how much their economy would suffer if she was suddenly fired.  Runeard also believed her when she said she wasn’t interested in partisan politics, but in the bottom line for Arendelle.  And that Agnarr’s plan was more lucrative and if Runeard hadn’t wanted to explore that possibility, why had he even left it open as an option?

So, Elsa is born.  Runeard gives them a little breathing space and aside from public events, isn’t overly interested in his granddaughter because babies are dull.  And then, oh my, what’s this?  Elsa has magic powers.  In this AU, one or two kids among the Northuldra is born with some kind of magic every generation or so.  Iduna was always tight with the North Wind (Gale), but can’t recall anyone in her family history who had magic.  She’s freaking out because Runeard’s a racist prick whose hatred of magic has only grown since the Northuldra went home.  She feels incredibly guilty and scared and Agnarr does his best to comfort her and reassure her that they’ll figure out a way to keep it from Runeard.  And he can protect them all.  The Sommerhus is commissioned so they have a place to go.

It’s just about time to get the taxes again so off they go, establishing the tradition that once a year, Agnarr and Iduna go to the Enchanted Forest to ‘collect the taxes’, but also so Iduna can see her family.  They introduce Elsa to her grandparents and extended family – they’re all smitten and thrilled that she’s a magic user.  They don’t really know what it means, but hey – magic baby!  Unbeknownst to Agnarr, this is where Iduna starts discussing killing Runeard with her mother and Yelana.  Iduna has experienced Runeard’s cruelty first hand and knows that he’ll kill Elsa if he finds out – no doubt in her mind.  They spend an extra month or so up north, sending a message to the castle that Iduna and the baby are too ill to travel.

They spend what time they can away from the castle and Runeard so that Elsa won’t accidentally reveal herself.  They start trying for another baby.  Anna is conceived and Runeard is excited for that boy!  Only it’s not a boy, it’s Anna, and Iduna has serious complications.  Her mother comes down to help heal her, but it’s clear to everyone that the next pregnancy will kill her.  Iduna’s near death experience shakes her up enough where she really commits to trying to kill Runeard via poison.  She can’t imagine only Agnarr looking after their two daughters with Elsa’s secret threatening to be spilled.  The only way her husband and children are safe is if Runeard is dead.  At this point, however, Runeard is a big, healthy, strapping man still reasonably adored by his Kingdom.  So they decide to go with the slow roll poisoning via foxglove.  It will mess with his heart just enough over time to weaken him and make it look natural.  They figure in five years, he’ll be dead.

Iduna is willing to continue trying to have children because she loves Agnarr, she wants to spare Elsa from becoming Queen with her abilities, and she’s – frankly – a little bit in denial.  Agnarr is not in denial (he thought she was going to die) and eventually gets her to agree to no more kids. By the time Anna is three, Runeard is really pushing for another pregnancy to the point where he’s harassing Iduna verbally. Agnarr tells his father there won’t be any more children and Runeard isn’t happy with that.  First, he tries to say it’s Iduna’s duty and if she dies – she dies.  Agnarr is, remarkably, not receptive to this line of reasoning.  Then he tells Agnarr to have an affair – he flat out orders him to have an affair so that another woman can conceive and a male bastard can be legitimized.  

Runeard keep pushing Agnarr about this until they finally have an epic shouting match one evening and Runeard uses several racial slurs about Iduna.  Agnarr and Iduna decide this is the perfect time to depart the castle because enough of the staff heard the King lose his shit that no one will question it.  They’ve also been worried about Anna accidentally exposing Elsa’s powers.  Elsa has control of them, but Anna is two.  Iduna is happy about the move, but concerned that her poisoning plan is going to take longer.  Still – it keeps her family safe, so to the Sommerhus they go.

Runeard, of course, is a vindictive bastard.  Agnarr tells him that they’ll put out the public story that the girls are in frail health and need the fresh air of the countryside to spare Runeard’s reputation.  Runeard says “great” and then decides to hit Iduna and Agnarr where it hurts.  If they were so in love with one another, he would separate them.  It would still play to the public that the dutiful Prince, no longer able to attend his daily duties in Arendelle proper, was willing to represent its interests abroad.  So off went Agnarr most of the year.  He comes back to keep up public appearances and also because, for some reason, Chief Valde will only turn over the taxes to him and only in the late fall/early winter time frame.

Iduna wrote her parents and told them what happened.  Her mother and Yelana panicked thinking they’d never poison the bastard, but if Agnarr came and went then they’d be at the castle at least twice a year.  That could still work if they upped the concentration of the poison!  Valde just wanted his daughter to be happy so he took his wife’s suggestion so that Iduna could at least spend winters with her husband since he couldn’t sail again until Spring.  Runeard initially thought about nixing this, but Marte and some of his toadies pointed out that it would look bad if the Crown Prince was ALWAYS gone.

After a year, when Elsa is about six and Anna is about three, Runeard remarries a very young woman (nineteen, maybe?) who is just terrified of him.  She misses her home and the warmth of southern France.  She doesn’t like the fish or the people.  She is desperately unhappy.  Runeard is actually quite nice to her, but is very insistent on bedding her frequently to try and have an heir so he can disinherit Agnarr.  He needs a suitable replacement before he can skip over his son.  Unfortunately for this girl, she gets very ill her first winter in Arendelle and dies.  I feel bad for her.

This marriage really starts to make people in Arendelle ask some questions about their king’s sanity.  He has a perfectly wonderful son who’s doing a great job.  Why is he taking a child bride?  Also, he’s starting to look ill.  He’s not the mountain of a man he was ten years earlier.  And he’s always so angry.  Not like that young royal couple and their adorable children.  Runeard spends the next few years trying to find some other young woman to marry, but no dice.

Meanwhile, Iduna and Agnarr pine for one another when they’re apart.  They write scorchingly hot letters to one another and have epic reunion sex every time he comes home.  Also, Iduna is putting more small doses of poison in Runeard’s cognac bottle whenever they meet him at the castle, or whatever.  Some women in foreign courts might try to flirt with Agnarr, but he has a reputation as one of the most devoted husbands on the Continent.  He loves his wife.  He buys her and his two daughters so many gifts.  He commissions art for them.  He talks about them non-stop if permitted.  Other women use him to shame their own spouses.  But he misses her and the girls immensely and this takes a serious toll on him over the years.  He makes sure never to tell her about the floozies who try to seduce him.  Of course, Mattias is with him half the time.  And he tells Halima.  And she tells Iduna.  Who thinks it’s hilarious but doesn’t want to embarrass Agnarr by mentioning it.  One particularly forward young lady from France sends an explicit letter to the Sommerhus and Iduna accidentally intercepts it and mails it back to the woman’s parish priest.

Iduna keeps her own council at the Sommerhus.  Halima and some other women from the town and society visit frequently.  She’s involved in lots of charities and social improvement efforts.  She takes the girls to some of the festivals (staying as far from the king as possible) and always gives out little gifts after each Yule Bell ceremony.  The people of Arendelle love Iduna.  She comes to appreciate Arendelle for its positive aspects, but is always very aware of its darker side.

The girls grow up with one foot in each world.  Agnarr poaches lots of great tutors for the girls so they know what’s going on around the world.  They can speak the language of the Northuldra and French with equal ease.  They learn about doing good works near home from their mother.  They both read about leadership and law.  When at the Sommerhus, they get to run around most of the time and be as close to normal as the children of royalty can be.  When in Arendelle, they are treated with love by their people.  When they go up to the Enchanted Forest – they have a ball.  Elsa is at one with the spirits and has a grand old time riding the Nokk around (making sure dad doesn’t catch after that first time when he almost had a stroke), climbing the Earth giants, flying with Gale (who fucks relentlessly with Agnarr – just ALL.  THE.  TIME.  Iduna does nothing to stop it, she’s laughing too hard) and setting Yelana’s kota on fire with Bruni.

Elsa isn’t afraid of her powers, but is still uncertain why her Grandfather can’t know about them.  She also gets the sense that some of her parents’ stories don’t add up, but she’s still a kid.  She’s more interested in playing with Anna.  And Anna has a blast with her sister.  She really doesn’t get why Grandfather can’t know about Elsa’s powers, but isn’t inclined to spill the beans because she knows it would upset Elsa.  Elsa is still an anxious child with perfectionist tendencies, but they’re under control.  Anna is a social butterfly with everyone she comes across.

That said, Iduna and Agnarr are aware that the girls are getting older.  And Runeard still isn’t dead.  Iduna is starting to consider giving him a larger dose despite Yelana and her mother’s warnings that there’s no reason to rush to failure.  She misses Agnarr when he’s gone and she terrified of Runeard finding out Elsa has powers.  Agnarr is less concerned about Elsa’s powers being revealed, but does feel like he’s failing to prepare his daughter to one day rule.  He also feels like an absentee father.  So they’re primed for a change of circumstances . . .