Chapter Text
When she was a girl, home among her people, she would sometimes just close her eyes while playing with the Wind Spirit and her ethereal friend would spin her in gentle circles. That was how she felt now. A slow smile spread across Iduna’s face as she rocked with the soothing motion and opened her arms to embrace the wafting feeling she thought lost to her forever. Then she wound up in a heap on the wooden floor of the bedroom she shared with Greet and Maddie at Fiske’s Boarding House. She cursed as her head banged against the bed frame when she tried to get up. The sun was coming through the dingy window far too brightly for even noon and her head was pounding.
Iduna groaned and slowly got back onto her bed, trying to brace herself into a sitting position. She had clearly slept in the same clothes she had worn out the night before to celebrate Henrik’s departure to England. His mother, determined to break into ice exports, was sending him to Oxford. There was a sour taste in her mouth, as though she had been sucking on a sock, and her eyes burned. The smell of smoke clung to her clothing. Her stomach turned and she lunged for the small wash basin they kept on a smaller stand. It took her a few minutes of clinging pitifully to the stand before she was done. She clumsily removed one of the stomach tonics she had in her chest and drank it down. Groaning, she flopped back onto her blankets.
Agnarr saw you home.
The thought came burning and unbidden to her mind and her eyes flew open. The events of the previous night were starting to clamor for the few wits she still had about her. They had started out at Hudson’s Hearth. And they had started out with Akvavit. It had been Agnarr, Henrik, Elias, Maddie, Greet, herself and a few others from their Academy days. She had gone out drinking before, usually at Hudson’s, usually with her friends after a long week, but they often nursed a beer or mead throughout the evening. She had never tried spirits before, but Henrik had insisted on buying the first few rounds. And Greet, who had her eye on Henrik, had insisted with her elbow that Iduna join in. And then there had been the schnapps. And then the vodka.
Iduna remembered asking Agnarr – oh God, was she sitting next to him at that point? Hadn’t she started well across the table from him? She remembered asking him if he usually drank like this. And he had laughed heartily and said he usually just stuck to a glass of wine at state events. Then smiled warmly as he ran his hand up her back, leaned close, and asked what she would like next. She could feel her knee pressing against his knee under the table as they raised the next toast to Henrik and wished him the best.
And instead of moving away from him, she had just let her knee stay where it was. Relishing in the solid warmth of him. Focusing on the electrifying sensation of touching him again as she kept drinking to drown the little voice in the back of her head that was trying to shout a warning. Moving even closer as friends said their goodbyes and drifted off into the night. Oh No, she felt her face flush with shame. Halima, of all people, had let them sit and continue to talk while she wiped down the tables and glasses at a discrete distance after she shut the place down. When they finally staggered out into the dark, empty streets, they had been laughing while waving good-bye and thanking her. He hadn’t turned at the corner that would have led to Market Square and the bridge that separated him from the town proper. She had looked at him questioningly. He shrugged.
“I can’t let you walk home alone in the middle of the night.”
“I can take care of myself,” she said, hoping that he would ignore her for a change.
“I know you can. That’s why I need to walk you home,” he grinned and staggered crookedly close to her. “To protect the bandits from you. I can’t have you thrown in the dungeon for killing a man.” She had laughed entirely too long and loudly at that. Her face in her hands, Iduna tried to recall what they had discussed with increasing horror. Whatever it had been that they were talking about, it had been at far too loud a volume and had led to her leaping off a stone wall, absolutely convinced that the Wind Spirit would catch her. The Wind Spirit had not caught her. And neither had Agnarr before she managed to belly flop into the soft mud. Which they had both found hysterical as he helped her up from the wet earth, shaking with laughter, elbows linked.
She felt a fresh wave of nausea tear through her abdomen. She had walked home with the King arm in arm. She gritted her teeth. How could she have been so stupid? She remembered Eir’s warning that rang in her ears as fiercely as the slap she had received when the old woman had caught her holding his hand when she was fifteen and they had been out walking in the woods unescorted for the last time.
“What are you thinking? I’ve told you this before! He is the King! Do you know what they’ll do to you if you’re seen like that, Iduna?” Eir demanded and shook her once, hard, by the shoulders. “I don’t know how things are done where you’re from, but if anyone sees that - your reputation will be ruined!”
“But-“
“No! There are no buts,” her face softened. “My dear, it doesn’t matter. Even if it’s innocent, others will think it’s not. King Agnarr will someday be married to some high-born woman. Don’t give anyone cause to think these thoughts about you. Do you understand? You won’t have a future in Arendelle beyond walking the docks at night if you keep this up.” She remembered how bitter she had felt at the time, but she had heeded Eir’s warning. It was the only time she had ever known Eir to strike anyone under her care in the face. It was serious. She had never taken his hand again. Had always deftly managed to turn any possible suggestion into a light joke and deftly create a distance if he reached out. After a while, he had stopped reaching for her hand and was careful not to touch her. He seemed to understand that like talking about her home, her past, it was something she couldn’t do. With the exception of their dance at the ball held for his eighteenth birthday, she had barely touched him at all.
And yet, last night she had purposefully leaned her weight into his warmth and rested her head on his shoulder as they had drunkenly made their way down the streets to Fiske’s Boarding House. She hadn’t protested when he gently gripped her hand with his. Instead, she had breathed a soft, satisfied sigh feeling for all the world that this was exactly how it should be. She had loved him a long time. And even if she hadn’t meant to sacrifice everything to save him, wasn’t it just a little fair? That everything she had been through was for a reason and that Agnarr was her reward? It wasn’t right that someone who didn’t know him or what he had been through would be the one to give him a family again.
Shit. Iduna wanted to slap herself now. She had spent years burying those thoughts. Focusing on staying in Arendelle so she would at least be as close to her homeland as possible. Learning what she needed to learn. Getting a job. Establishing herself. Trying to convince herself that Agnarr’s friendship was all she needed and she would still get to see him from time to time after the Council married him off. That it had to be enough. But apparently, the akvavit and the schnapps and the vodka and whatever else had joined them had thought differently.
Which was why she had kissed him at her door.
It was chaste. It was only meant to be a thank you for accompanying her home. It was only where his jawline ended as that was as high as she could reach on her toes. But he had sighed, shuddered, and dipped his head almost low enough to catch her lips before even the alcohol brought her hands up to his chest to stop him as she spun away, smiling one last time and wishing him a good night before ducking through the doorway.
Iduna sat cross-legged now, head in her hands, eyes squeezed shut. After spending four years being so cautious and slowly making a place for herself, she had practically thrown it away. She prayed that no one had seen them. As best she could recall, no one had been on the streets. She was certain she would have remembered if they had crossed paths with a watchman. And almost everyone, except drunken idiots, carried a lantern with them at night. There was a soft knock on the door. She looked up.
“Iddy?” Greet called tentatively. The handle turned with a click and her roommate stepped inside. It was a bit of a relief to see her look worse for wear too. “How are you feeling?”
“I threw up,” she nodded at the basin. “Sorry.”
“It’s fine,” Greet shrugged and sat on her lower bunk. “I threw up earlier. Maddie was sick last night. I think we all over did it a bit.”
“I think you’re right,” she replied dryly. “Do you need a ginger tonic?”
“I already stole one while you were sleeping,” Greet chuckled. Iduna shrugged. That was only fair. “Maddie said Henrik carried me to bed. I don’t remember a thing after leaving Hudson’s. He . . .wasn’t here when you came home, was he?” Iduna thought a moment. If she were honest, Henrik could have been juggling fire and she wouldn’t have noticed when she had floated through the door on her cloud of alcohol and Agnarr.
“I didn’t see him, no.”
“Oh, thank God.” Greet visibly relaxed and rubbed her neck. “He’s nice enough, but Fiske would turn us out if he’d spent the night.”
Iduna nodded. “Yep.” There was a long pause.
“So how long did you and Agnarr stay out?” It was funny when Greet was trying to be nonchalant and discrete. It was funny because she failed every time and her questions came out all the more pointed.
“We had maybe one more drink and then headed out,” she lied easily. It wasn’t like Greet or Maddie were in much of a position to argue with her account of things. They had been snoring when she stumbled to bed. “What time is it, anyway?”
“Nearly ten.”
“What!?” Compounding all of her many staggeringly poor decision in the past day, she was now very, very late for work.
* * * * *
Agnarr woke from the draft on his legs. Where the hell are my pants? He thought as staggered upright. He looked around his bedroom. There was a trail of clothing from the door to the bed, where he had apparently spent the few hours he had slept sprawled out in his underpants and undershirt. With one sock on. At least the dreams had been good. He smiled and gently touched the spot where Iduna had kissed him. It entirely made up for the fact that he felt sick as a dog and that the floor was still weaving like the deck of a ship.
He sat heavily in a chair and squinted out the window. It had been an excellent send off for Henrik and a wonderful night. He could remember Iduna sitting next to him after Henrik swapped chairs to be closer to Greet. He had told her the truth. He really wasn’t used to drinking anything stronger than a watered-down claret. The alcohol had been warm in his head and his chest, but nothing compared to the warmth he felt radiating off of her body as he leaned in to hear her over the din. It had been intoxicating, to be so close to her. He grinned at the thought.
He had never been certain what had happened. When they were young, Iduna had been freer in her shows of affection than anyone else he had ever met. They would take walks into the woods where she would show him all the different herbs and plants she used for her tonics and compounds. She would point out animal tracks and how to walk off the path without getting lost by using the moss on the trunks of trees. It had been his favorite thing, when he was fourteen, to be around her. She used to hold his hand as she pulled him through the brush. And then one day, she had stopped. Their unaccompanied walks into the forest had also ended as his guard was changed out and the new man refused to allow him to go around alone.
He thought he understood, as he got a little older. It wasn’t proper for him to be completely alone with a young lady because it might besmirch her reputation. And that, of course, was the last thing he wanted for Iduna. Captain Calder had also delicately explained, in an awkward but fatherly talk, that it was important for him to take care with the ladies of Arendelle as he was their King. And how, for some women, it might be hard to decline the interests of a King. That was one of the reasons Agnarr had agreed to be introduced to some of the daughters of nobility and royalty from other regions. It was easier – they all knew where they stood. But it was just a formality and courtesy. As Lady Wollen, the Minister of State, had advised it would be best to treat all of their trade partners as respectfully as possible before making any decisions. And some of them were nice enough, but they were bland and they were boring, and they certainly didn’t know him as well as Iduna.
He was a gentleman with them, of course. Polite. Gave small gifts. Listened attentively to their stories. Shared his own stories carefully. But he could never imagine marrying any of them. He certainly didn’t see any of them as potential partners with which to start a family. It wasn’t even that he knew Arendelle needed heirs – it did, obviously he would get married at some point and have children. And he wanted a family of his own one day. He still missed his father. He had never known his mother. He wanted . . .well, it was hard to put into words exactly. But whenever he had expressed his fragmented thoughts to Iduna she had always been able to come up with the right words.
When he had tried, though, a year or so before, to express his interest, she hadn’t responded. He had even tried to playfully hold her hand as she had once held his, but she had pulled away. It hurt. But he knew that she was fond of him and always had a ready smile whenever she saw them. He wasn’t about to throw away a friendship if she didn’t have other feelings for him. He liked talking to her more than anyone else, even Elias and Henrik. He didn’t have to explain. He didn’t have to try to be the King. He just felt like himself.
And, frankly, he flattered himself that he knew her better than anyone else. He knew that she had several different sunny smiles that were genuine and three she kept for the customers she didn’t much like. He knew how quick her mind was and exactly how she tilted her head while harvesting a plant for her tonics. How she ground herbs between her bare hands and closed her eyes as she smelled them. He knew that she missed the family she lost. He knew she wanted a family of her own. He knew that she liked the woods more than the sea, but that she loved sailing when given the opportunity – always leaning into the ocean breeze on the bow. Agnarr had felt that he knew almost everything there was to know about Iduna, except how she felt about him.
Well, he knew now. Blearily, he rose and began his morning ablution. He was half dressed when someone knocked at the door. “Come in!”
“Your Majesty,” Tanvir had served as his father’s manservant before the Northern Expedition and his grandfather before that. The old man liked to joke that he came with the castle. “I thought I heard you. Are you feeling well? I was unable to rouse you earlier.”
Agnarr paused, blinked a few times to clear away the gritty feeling in his eyes, and continued to button his shirt. “Uh, you know, I’m feeling a little under the weather this morning. I think I have a touch of stomach flu.”
“Oh? You know, I remember your father having something very similar when he was about your age,” Tanvir said as he raised an eyebrow. Agnarr looked away and failed to suppress a smirk. “I’ll have the staff bring you some bacon and heavy biscuits, as well as a pot of coffee.”
“Thank you, Tanvir, but I was going to head into town.”
“With a stomach flu?”
“Iduna has a few remedies that should clear it right up.”
“With all due respect, your Majesty, I think you’ll find that this stomach flu will be better treated with bacon, heavy biscuits, and a pot of coffee,” he spoke dryly. “As talented as Miss Iduna is with her herbs, I doubt the young lady has much experience with this specific kind of ailment. Might I recommend eating before you go to see if she has something for you? My understanding is that those in the medical profession tend not to like having their patrons too green in the gills when they walk through the door.” Agnarr raised his hands in defeat. He had looked rather sallow in the mirror.
“Alright, Tanvir. Thank you.”
* * * * * *
The bacon, biscuits and coffee had helped tremendously, but it was early afternoon by time Agnarr set off for Visser’s Apothecary. There was a fresh breeze blowing in off the water and the smell of the salt did him good. He had waved off his personal guard today, promising that he would be back within the hour. Visser’s was close to Market Square and the area was heavily patrolled. He wanted some privacy for this. He had considered bringing flowers along, but there was no way that it would have passed without some remark by the Council, the castle staff, the dignitaries who were constantly hovering about to see if they could present their eligible lady or the castle guards. It didn’t matter. He could give her flowers the next time she visited him. She wouldn’t refuse an invitation to dinner. And she was coming by tomorrow to check the medicinal garden she had planted during her academy days anyway. He could always surprise her with them then.
He couldn’t help but set a brisk pace as he moved through the square. Smiling and nodding to those who greeted him. Usually, he would take the time to have a word or pay a compliment to his subjects, but he couldn’t wait to see Iduna. He had been wanting this for so long. He could remember the very first time she had smiled at him before he even knew her name. The first time she had taken him by the hand. Their walks. Their conversations. Maybe he could even screw up the courage to kiss her properly today. That was how this was done, wasn’t it?
The bell clanged as he opened the door to Visser’s Apothecary. He broke into a grin and his heart skipped a beat as he caught sight of her. Her back was to the door as she ground something in a mortar and pestle. “I’ll be with you in a moment,” she called over her shoulder. He just watched her while walking slowly towards the counter. Even the back of her neck was beautiful. “How can I help-“ She turned and saw him. Iduna’s smile melted away. She looked surprised. And fatigued. He smiled and leaned against the counter.
“I was hoping for one of your ginger tonics.” He said in what he thought was a very winning manner. She slapped a towel over her shoulder and stared at the floor.
“Doctor Wagner has those,” she finally said.
“Yeah,” he chuckled. “But they’re not nearly as good as yours.” There was another pause. She still wasn’t looking at him. He straightened and frowned. “Are you not feeling well?” More silence. He pressed on. “I didn’t wake up feeling too well either. But I-“
“Your Majesty,” she started. Then shook her head. “You should go.”
“What?” Agnarr stared. This wasn’t how this was supposed to go.
“I would like you to go.” She nodded at the door, hugging her arms at her waist.
“But . . .” His chest burned. He could feel his heart starting to hammer against his rib cage. “But why?” She didn’t respond. “I thought that last night-“
“Last night we were very drunk.” Although she kept her tone even, Agnarr could see a slight tremble to her lip. “I forgot myself. I forgot my place. I’m sorry, your Majesty. It won’t happen again.”
“Iduna, I don’t understand!” He gripped the edge of the counter. “Did I do something wrong? I’m sorry! I thought I was being respectful and-”
“You were,” she spat in a bitter tone he had never heard from her before. “You were very respectful. You’re the King. You didn’t do anything wrong.”
“But you’re angry with me!”
“I’m not, Agnarr,” Iduna shook her head and bit her lip so hard he could see it go white. “I’m not angry with you. But you need to go.”
“If you’re not angry with me then why do I need to go?” She had used his name. That had to be a good sign. “If I didn’t do anything wrong, then why are you upset? I know we got a bit too tipsy, but everyone else does that all the time! And Halima wasn’t mad about it. Believe me, I would know if she was mad about it! I thought we had a good time. I thought,” he waved a hand. “I don’t know. You kissed me!”
“I made a mistake,” her shoulders slumped. She ran her hands over her face and when she looked up at him for the first time, Agnarr could see that her eyes were filled with tears. “Like I said, I forgot my place, Your Majesty, and I’m sorry.”
“Your place?”
“I’m a shop girl. And you have been meeting with women, royal women, from other kingdoms and-“
“Iduna, that’s a formality! I have to do that.”
“You have to get married.”
“I have some say in who I get married to!” He yelled. They both stood, stunned. He couldn’t remember ever raising his voice to her before. He took a deep breath. “Listen – you’re not a shop girl. I’ve never thought of you as-“
“I am a shop girl,” she said in a strained tone. She was determinedly looking past him. “And that’s fine. But I work in a shop. And I’m not from here. And I have no family. I have no one.”
“Iduna,” his face fell. How could she say she had no one? “You’ve always had me since we met.”
“And I appreciate your friendship. And I hope to remain friends. But you know that’s not what I mean.”
He stared at her in disbelief. “Iduna, I know you. This isn’t you. What happened?”
“You don’t,” she shook her head and furiously wiped her eyes. “You don’t know me. Not as well as you think you do.”
“Iduna,” he grasped for anything he could understand out of this. “Iduna, I know that I love-“
“Please!” her voice broke. “Please, just leave.” Her head was bowed, but he could hear the tears in her voice as she grasped her sides tightly. “Please.” He felt like a snuffed candle. She was begging. Dazed, Agnarr backed away from the counter, turned and staggered for the door. He heard her breaking down into sobs as he stepped into the sunlight and let the door bang shut behind him. He gazed around at the square. Same sun. Same breeze. Same people. How in the hell had his life become so different?