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Chapter Text

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༺[❄]༻♕༺[☀]༻

To our WIDOWED and ESTEEMED King of Corona,

His HUMBLE AFFINE, with LOVE and KINDNESS,

Wisheth thou HAPPINESS and HEALTH

In REIGNSHIP, ALLIANCE, and SPIRITS

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Her Parliament prays for

Your Majesty and Corona,

to have a safe and prosperous year

in these Unforeseen times

of Famine, Death, and Disease

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MAY THE SUN BE WITH YOU

༺ ❅ ༻

My Beloved Cousin,

I am writing to you this morning, not only to tell you how sorry I am for being unable to take you into my arms today, but also to remind you that you are not and never will be alone. My only hope is that you'll find it in your heart to forgive me for not taking the time to open mine until now. I once tried very hard to get to know yours on a deeper level than what you allowed, but over the years, I felt forced to avoid doing anything that might stir up trouble or cause you to feel more uncomfortable than you already felt. I understand how hard it is to be an open door in a ballroom full of people, as well as how much easier it seems to lock yourself inside your own heart and shut the world out; I would be lying if I said that I'm not tempted to do the same as of yesterday.

I was reading "The Tales of Flynnigan Rider" to my children in the orphanage of Hordaland on the afternoon that your envoy arrived. He entreated me to hold audience with him in the tea room. Once inside, he put an envelope in my hands and asked me to open it after he had finished saying what he was there to say. That moment was my very first time hearing about Rapunzel's pregnancy in detail, but my unexplainable joy died as I did when he ended his message with, "Her Majesty passed away after the delivery, and the precious little sun-drop she left behind is due to join her at noon." I've been in agony ever since.

There's not one word I can write to make up for all the years I wasted doing what I felt was better for everyone even though it was only making everything worse. I long to tell you why I was away after my last summer in Corona, but I'm afraid of painting my uncle in a light that he doesn't deserve. I could never have asked Rapunzel to choose me over her late father. Despite his influence, the choice to distance myself was still mine. It is my fault that we were never together, and it is therefore my actions and mine alone that are irredeemable.

One of my most terrible crimes is not knowing you the way I should know my own relative. King Frederic was my uncle, but I lost the opportunity to let him see me for who I really am. Rapunzel was my flesh and blood, but she stopped wanting to be for good reason. Her precious daughter is my first cousin, yet now I'll never get the chance to see her smile. .. ... . . . .. ... . . . .. ...

. ... . . . . . ...

Please forgive me if you can, Eugene . . . . . . . ... . . . .

. . . ... . . . . .. . . ... . ... .I'm losing my place between the paragraphs, and the ink is running. . ...

I have been trying to find the strength to write to you for nineteen hours because I know that I don't deserve one second of your time, but I can't stand the silence for a second more. The gentlemen in my council advised me to tell you that praying in the chapel will help you recover from what has happened. They advised me to write flowery paragraphs about how the sun will still shine through the rain no matter how hard it falls, but I don't have the heart to minimize the actual process it takes to get up in the morning just to open the drapes. Life after we lose the ones we love is a lot like an indoor blizzard. ... . . . .except we're the ones who feel frozen in time. ... . . . .

The question we're all left to choke on is, "Does it get better?" The answer I've found is, "Yes and no." Ruling alone will be difficult. It will even be more difficult to know what to do when you have no choice but to make up the steps on your own. Nothing from that first day you are hailed as the last sovereign standing will ever be so terrifying or puzzling.

Everything you are not in the eyes of society will be used against you by the world around you. Those who supported you because they supported Rapunzel and Frederic may not support you anymore. Foreigners who saw you as an outcast because of your background will feel emboldened to sabotage you. The best advice I can impart to you from afar is to understand that we can't control how other people treat us, but we can control how they affect us. We can choose to either surrender to their hatred or hold our heads high for the greater good of our kingdoms.

We can also choose to focus on what we are to our loved ones instead of our faultfinders. More importantly, we can choose to cry out for help. All I ask of you is to help me through these next years of my life by letting me help you through yours. I realize that there isn't a single thing on this planet that will numb what you're feeling right now .. ... . . not a spell .. ... . not a lecture .. ... . ... . .not even a warm hug. I'm as helpless to the pain as you are, Eugene.

Some days might be better for you than others with time. Others will hit you harder than you could ever imagine. On those days, it'll hurt to breathe. It'll even hurt to be alive, but you must remember that you aren't alone in your suffering. You're going through all of this with Anna and I.

No matter how far away we are, our troth to you is unbreakable. Family is everything, and you still have one overseas who wants you to know that they care about you very much. I just hope that it isn't too late for me to stand in your pain with you. You always seemed indifferent to the idea of spending time with me over Anna, but I always paid attention to the mosaics Rapunzel made of you. The part of me that understands the part of you that has fought with years of being afraid to be yourself wants to commend you on how much you've sacrificed for Rapunzel and her parents.

It was you, Eugene, who made them whole again by having the courage to open your heart. If it hadn't been for your bravery, they would have lived out the rest of their days without sunlight. Thank you, from the very bottom of my heart, for all that you've done in the name of true love. You truly are a hero whom Corona is still in need of. What I fear now is that losing the family you made with Rapunzel will close your heart to love once again.

Relying on what little information I have about your past, I understand that you lost your parents before finding two outstanding ones in Rapunzel's. I'm very familiar with that loss and how it shapes your way of thinking; I'm also familiar with the fear of letting in and letting go because of it. I only began healing when I decided to let love in again. The cold never bothered me just as I'm sure you thought it never bothered you in your former life, but what I truly needed after all those long years alone was warmth, and I strongly believe that you still need the same.

To shut out warmth at this point in your life is to bring more harm to yourself and everyone else. My punishment is the pain I put my family and Arendelle through. I know that I'm asking for too much by begging you to let me in, but I very much long to be the warmth you need even if you would be more than justified in your decision to slam the door in my face. I will not pressure you further if that is your choice. Having you read my letter is a blessing in and of itself.

If by some heartwarming chance you are still reading my letter, I must add for your sake that finding healing by opening up to whomever you choose to find warmth in doesn't mean that your wounds will magically disappear, but it does mean that those wounds won't bleed as much anymore. Once you've discovered that, you'll start to see that suffering does have a counterbalance down the line. You'll find that the people whom you called your life are still living through you. Most of all, you'll begin to understand that storms don't last forever. Getting out of bed in the morning is the first step to seeing all the love that life still has to offer.

I cannot say whether anything I have written resonates with your heart because I am still a stranger to you. I may very well be someone you will never grow fond of, but if you'll let me, I can take care of the costs for my cousin's funeral arrangements so that you can take care of yourself. If Corona's food staples need my attention due to Late Blight, don't hesitate to tell me before I dock in your port. The Kingdom of Corona will be both my responsibility and my life from this day forward, for I have as much of an obligation to serve, protect, and nurture Rapunzel's homeland as I do you.

From Arendelle,
XXV of December, 1846
Keeping you in my heart,
Elsa

Chapter Text

My Dearest Cousin,

My last letter wasn't as eloquent as it should've been, and I hope the actual content didn't intimidate you, for lack of a better word. I haven't received a reply from you yet, but I wanted to let you know ahead of time that Anna and I will be arriving in Corona one day before the state funeral. We may, of course, arrive earlier if the sea is kind to us, and I hope it will be, for my sojourn in Corona will be my first time speaking to you alone. We'll have enough daylight to spend our first hour looking over your speech for the memorial service, but I would be more than honored if you reserved the following night for a quiet walk along the seashore.

I initially planned on organizing the service myself, but your parliament objected to it. The public supported their open letter by stating their own cultural reasons, many of which I understood, such as wanting to keep the country's funeral traditions in the hands of its native director. To my knowledge, you've played no part in the backlash. I'm not even aware of whether or not you've been in the public eye after Christmas, but I wouldn't want you to think that I was trying to "horn my way" into your throne room because of your High Councillor's misinterpretations. I hope it's clear that I'm only trying to help.

On a happier note, I can't tell you how happy I am to hear about your daughter. "Happy" doesn't even graze the surface. Anna and I were in tears, and Arendelle's celebration of our new family member's life is going on as I write. The announcement had a late start in the north, but what it did include was a statement regarding a ban that prohibits everyone except her wet nurse from seeing her.

If there is any truth in the print, then will Anna and I also be prohibited from seeing our precious cousin?

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Chapter Text

To Your Majesty the King,

Chapter Text

To Your Majesty the Queen,

Quite frankly, I'm the one who should be getting down on my knees to tell you how sorry I am. I want to start this letter off by apologizing to Your Majesty and Her Highness for all the chaos that was systematically choreographed under my nose. I never intended on leaving either of you ladies in limbo, and I most certainly never meant to leave you in a hotbed of controversy, Your Majesty. I still haven't forgiven myself for letting the Southern Isles get the upper hand in what I'm about to explain to you. Now that I'm finally conscious, I have a lot of mending to do, so here's to hoping that you're still open to hearing me out one last time:

First on this morbid list to apologize for is the letter you wrote to me hours after I had already watched my life flash before my eyes. As it turns out, I was never able to read what you sent in December. Supposedly, it was delivered to my study, but "supposedly" is just that. This is one disadvantage to having other people in charge of shipping and handling when you're bedridden. Your second letter is the one I received, but the closing was torn off after, "Will Anna and I also be prohibited from seeing our precious cousin?"

The carrier of that letter said that he was attacked by highwaymen on his way to the castle, yet I have a feeling there's more to the story than what I'm being told. You should know that this third one barely survived the jaws of Emeline's mastiff, rendering the bottom parts of both pages illegible. My karma is about as fond of our communication as it is of my unimaginable accession to King Frederic's throne. I think the newspapers have clued me in on what Adalwin ate, and in respect to you, I won't make him regurgitate them.

While I realize some people weren't happy about you stepping up to the dais on that cold winter evening, I would like to encourage you to never look for ways to make excuses for that audience. Some people were actually grateful. Others refuse to change their opinions on other people even after those very same people have proven who they really are. I know this story from back to front better than any reader, and I have even free-styled a theme song for myself to cope with it. The lyrics go a little something like, "Don't care about what they're going to say."

That doesn't mean that what you went through should be treated like water under the bridge. This isn't what I'm saying. What I am saying is that I ended up showing my face in the square to bleed my own heart out without anyone telling me what to say or how to say it, and in that speech, I spoke of Rapunzel's guaranteed disappointment in the actions of her people. For the most part, they began to reflect on how they treated you. Words can't always change hearts, but I would say that I renovated a fair amount.

Now with that being said, you aren't wrong about the conflict between magic and breadth of mind in Corona. Tolerance of foreign faiths has recently been made into a law here, but in the kingdom's traditional religion, rebirth comes from the sun. Ice, on the other hand, is a beautiful yet deceptive nemesis that traps life in eternal stillness. For several people, such as the Bishop of Corona, you thawing Arendelle was proof that you could obliterate and revive because your powers came from above as well (in his opinion). However, everyone isn't convinced that your ice magic is trustworthy. Many are stuck in the middle.

Then we have those who believe any magic that doesn't fall from the sun is evil because the "Testaments of Eld" said so. This country has a long history of staking these "conjurers" and Gothel-type sun-suckers throughout the decades in reaction to those testaments. I personally never jumped on the bandwagon because it's a little more than irrational to turn people into angels or monsters based on the outside instead of what's on the inside. Rapunzel and I outlawed witch hunts for that very reason. Of course, this doesn't imply that I don't know that rural Hohendorf is still a breeding ground for irrational fears of the unknown, but I do know that people there would never think of hurting you, if that's what you thought.

No matter what did or didn't happen, it's my duty as King to apologize on Corona's behalf for the antagonism that you were wrongly forced to deal with. You didn't deserve that. No one deserves that, and it won't ever happen again. You have my word, Your Majesty.

Out of everyone I've tolerated listening to, it's you whom I wholeheartedly agree with when it comes down to my wife's ceremony. Lying in State was not what I wanted for her, but spreading ashes over the ocean isn't a Coronan tradition that's up for implementation. I'm going to change that, too.

Secondly, King Nutju of Chosŏn: I heard that you quelled his anger by reasoning with him in his castle. He's a madman who's got the attention span of a toddler, so I was relieved to hear that Your Majesty had managed to come out unscathed after giving him what he wanted.

Thirdly, my representative: Corona's parliament has a practice in place called, "Care of King During Illness." This statute basically allows the King's Council to act "in my best interests" without my consent. The parliament therefore chose to appoint my First Lord (or in your country, the "Prime Minister") to ward the kingdom as the "Guardian of the Crown," so while I fell into the role of "suffering from a life-threatening illness," he fell into the role of calling the shots. In accordance, I was suspended from my royal functions two days before you docked.

You're probably asking yourself how in the world I managed to fit the description above when I wasn't on my deathbed in the first place. By the time I could actually cough out a sentence, I was asking every Tom, Dick, and Harry in the room that very same question. Cannonballs of "misinformation" — or should I say "a spectacularly orchestrated lie," and props to the maestro for flawlessly conducting it — were fired back and forth between the foreign physician and my council about the probability of me not only being mortician ready in a month's time, but too mentally unwell to take the throne even if I did survive the outcome of my "chronic depression and self-starvation."

Whatever disbelief you have, please feel free to shout it to the top of your lungs right this very minute. Do keep in mind that none of this was formally pedaled out to the masses because no one wanted to "break more hearts" on what should have been the day of celebration for my wife's life. But I'm here to tell you, loud and clear, that what you heard is false. It's a lie that I wasn't eating because of chronic depression. It's a lie that I "withdrew from society," and as long as I have something to say about it, it'll never be true that I would ever even touch the idea of ending my own life.

Rapunzel and I did not dance around what could've happened as a result of how sick this pregnancy was making her. Attempting to have another baby for the last time wasn't something I wanted to do at all, but my wife had a different dream, and I had to honor that dream. She openly acknowledged our midwife's warnings and talked with me about what I should do if anything ever happened. Or at least we tried to talk about it, and we tried to talk about it as rationally as we possibly could. But I swore to Rapunzel, that if this day actually came, then I would be strong for our little us and her heart.

Rapunzel's heart in this context is Corona, along with the canvas of dreams that she had been saving for it. Going back on that promise wouldn't just make me out to be a liar and a hypocrite. It would make everything we promised each other go to rack and ruin. I don't have any choice but to be a pillar for Corona — for my wife, for her parents, for my beautiful baby girl — and I can't be that pillar by shutting down or walking off a bridge. Neither of those evacuation options are options.

Everyone in Corona has been destroyed by this; I'm not the only one who's had the biggest piece of them die, but I'm the only one who needs to be the buttress that holds everyone else together. Me — not anyone else — just me, and only me. Doing the opposite of that isn't what Rapunzel and my parents would've wanted. According to a dream I had, they haven't left my side by any means, so I know what they expect, and they expect me to be the man whom Frederic taught me to be. I would never betray them because I'm in pain; that, Your Majesty, would be selfish.

What wasn't a lie was my fever, but like everything else that's been blown out of proportion, it was because my body was fighting poison. Heavy, consistent doses of poison being served to me on a platter each and every day like corn on a cob. The mastermind behind the scenes did a terrific job. He did the absolute best in the business, because he managed to avoid the whole "Who poisoned the king?" fiasco. This maestro set it up to look like the king was killing himself.

I found out yesterday that one of the envoys you spoke of happened to be the so-called poisoner in question. The envoy I'm referring to is King Kasimir's muscle, a sovereign who also happens to be the ninth brother in that flea-infested Southern Isles litter. Apparently he and the foreign physician had been in cahoots with one another, which is almost too obvious of a decoy, logically speaking. King Kasimir and his brothers denied any knowledge, made an inhumane spectacle of the man's execution, and wrote an open apology today. Until I can dig up more dirt, I have no choice but to accept it, but I'm going to keep my eyes open; there's always some kind of kraken crawling out of that kingdom's swamp.

I regret to tell you that I don't remember opening my eyes to find my wife's in yours. I neither recall the feeling of you holding my hand nor mine holding yours, but I can recall that I didn't order anyone to keep you and Anna away from me or Isolde. I had no idea any of this was happening. That so-called poisoner I mentioned had hired a forger to study my handwriting astoundingly well. Banning you was an issue that Constantine and our High Councillor took into their own hands, and based on what you've written, they took it way too far.

Did Isolde have complications that we didn't want anyone exploiting while the whole world's eyes were on Corona's half-empty throne room? Yes, in fact, she did. Because my little girl was born prematurely, she's been under an intensive care system for low immune tolerance. During her first five days of life, she wouldn't even open her eyes. After the sixth, she caught an infection from her wet nurse's milk. There are still mornings where she'll suddenly stop breathing for ten seconds, so we've been trying to look for more adequate ways to help her ever since.

Due to all of the above, there were plenty of concerns that I had in the beginning. Unless it was me, I did only want her nurses to be around her, but after I was "incapacitated," some of my concerns were laid on thick by my council, as not once did I ever say, "Make sure you treat Princess Anna and Queen Elsa like assassins when they get here." Never in a million years would I sic an order like that on my own wife's cousins. Everyone who was involved in dressing it up to look like I would received their fair share of consequences, I can tell you that much. As of right now, I'm trying to figure out what the next step is for my daughter.

But you should know that my little Izzy is a fighter. A real little warrioress, just like her incredible mother. Once everything is under control, I'll have no problem with Her Highness returning to Corona to see Isolde's smile; it's more dazzling than watching comets fall from the sky, for she's got enough horsepower in that tiny body to grin wider than Pascal when you tickle her cheek. Isolde is Rapunzel reborn.

And in case you were wondering, I don't feel bitter about you being MIA over the years. I truly appreciate you for coming to my side for the hardest time of my life. I'm just sorry that I wasn't able to stand by yours, Princess Anna's, Corona's, or my own wife's. She never left mine in spite of that, and I'm eternally blessed to still have the biggest piece of her still breathing in my arms. Although I have never had a plethora of information about Her Majesty outside of newspapers, Rapunzel's word, Princess Anna's stories, and those thirteen hours spent in Arendelle, I really do appreciate your support.

Again, thank you. Thank you for doing what you could for Rapunzel and I on this side of the equator. Thank you tremendously.

From Corona,
V of February, 1847
With gratitude,
King Eugene

P.S. I'm glad that you mentioned our crop crisis. I've drawn up a framework for a famine relief program for any future emergencies, but I've been meaning to pick your brain for some stable ideas. I recall hearing about Arendelle gracefully dealing with its own hit a while back. Would Your Majesty be willing to join forces?

Chapter Text

To Your Majesty the King,

Please don't think for one moment that you have anything to be sorry about. Your subjects are the perpetrators who owe Arendelle an apology if they can't muster up enough courage to apologize to me or my sister for keeping all this a secret from us. I was never informed by Lord Constantine about any "Care of King During Illness Act" or augury of death. I was told to my face that you neither could nor would see anyone because of a nervous breakdown. I'm very well acquainted with dysthymia and its side effects, so I knew that the best thing to do was to respect your space and go about future contact with sensitivity. Since none of that was ever even necessary, your letter has given me yet another reason to hold your ministers in low regard.

I may as well reconsider "horning my way into Corona'' if some stray animal is what they choose to treat me as. Never have I ever disrespected your elders the way that they have disrespected me, but now I see how much of a waste of time my discretion was. The very thought of there being any forecast for your death without anyone in Corona communicating that much with me speaks volumes about where we stand. I never should've left you alone.

In one light, I have the right to be beyond furious and no one can convince me otherwise; in another, I'm starting to wonder if I do deserve the blatant disregard that Corona has shown me for allowing interrelations to become this dysfunctional. Your paragraph about food poisoning has taken me even longer to stomach. Your version of this unforgivable hate crime has been just as heartbreaking to countenance as the reality of your helplessness both without and within my presence. By way of King Kasimir's letter, I was made aware of the assassination attempt right before yours arrived in Arendelle. I wanted to hunt down the man who brought harm to you and my first cousin.

I admit to having a very intimate relationship with King Kasimir of Norrlind, who — alongside Sigfus Söderman — was attached to a scandalous publication yesterday. The majority of what you described here is underlined in that article, but the narrative is entirely different. It tells the story of his envoy being a scorned lover who'd set out to destroy King Kasimir by provoking Corona. If the story has any shred of truth in it, then I'd much rather hope that it does. I don't want to view my companion in the same light as Prince Hans or start living in fear for his wonderful wife, Queen Malmö.

King Kasimir has since reached out to me for forgiveness on that wretched man's behalf and invited me to his banquet in Vadstena Castle. He says he wants to enlighten me on something that he feels can't be sealed by a wax stick. As a corollary, I'll be conducting an investigation of my own for the health of my conscience and your constitution until that day comes. If I cannot get what I need from King Kasimir, then I will be asking your secretary to send me more information on the foreign physician who lied about your illness, the exact timeline for your malnutrition, his arrival, and the entrance of Sigfus.

I won't say that I'm not upset about what happened to my letters. I put my heart into them. If you ever do find the first one, then please ignore the cloud of splotches staining the pages; I couldn't stop crying, which hasn't changed. I'm less shocked and more upset to hear about what happened to my third letter. Yours also had trouble getting back to me in one piece.

After winter ends, I'd like to talk about using a messenger bird to protect our privacy. I have a nominee in mind, but he's much bigger than your average homing pigeon. To let you know likewise, I was recently notified about your carrier being attacked in Corona, but the story I heard alluded to a mobbing in Hohendorf, not a confrontation with highwaymen on the island. The first thing that came to mind was, "Why did the messenger stop in Hohendorf if he usually sails straight to the port island?" We're both in agreement about there being illogical variables in this equation.

Strangely enough, I haven't heard anything else about these anonymous insurrectionists. Let me know if any light sheds on Hohendorf in the upcoming weeks. The last thing you need is a rebellion, so we have to stay on top of this before it gains momentum. Don't trust anyone who doesn't seem to be telling you the whole story about something. That'll give rebels access to a blind spot in your monarchy.

Your midmost disclosure is the only part of this letter that makes my heart stop in a good way. I had to catch my breath for a moment. Here I am, trying to inspire in you the will to go on, and you blow me away with an unimaginable amount of passion and purpose that I wish I had when I was crowned. You truly have the capacity for devotion and valiance that surpasses so many princes on our continent's isles. I want you to hold onto that spirit and never let it go.

Everything you wrote is everything I had told myself on the morning of my coronation, but unlike that scared twenty-one-year old, I'm confident that you won't fall apart if you remember to lean on the support system she never did. What I was essentially saying in my first letter was that you don't have to be "that buttress" alone, and my offer still stands because I'll be returning to Corona as soon as possible. I need to see you and Isolde once and for all. I've been kept from the truth about your circumstances for so long that I promised Anna I would "horn my way into Corona's throne room with a tissue box and an ice pack sliding off my forehead." I don't think you have any idea how much you helped me tonight by writing back to me at all.

Anna read your letter out loud to me while I was lying in bed with a head cold, you see. I haven't been myself since my "imprisonment" in Chosŏn. My position with the Storting isn't in any better shape than I am right now, but what's happening to me is the furthest concern from my mind. What you've given me is the greatest gift of all: a letter saying that you're alive, and not just in body, but in spirit as well. I know I haven't been everything I should've been for you in the past, but I won't make that same mistake a third time.

I have to admit that when I first opened your letter, I did expect "rack and ruin," so I had already prepared myself for the worst. I'm over the moon with joy and admiration to see that you're only interested in preparing for the best. I think the rest of our family above is just as. I also want you to know that I've been interviewing pediatricians from my bedside about Isolde's premature symptoms. One suggestion that keeps coming up is placental abruption, which causes internal bleeding in the mother and hypoxic damage in the infant. Did your doctor ever tell you whether Princess Isolde had sleep apnea, and was she blue after birth?

There are men from Chatho who say that the lungs are not always affected during sleep apnea in spite of the pauses, and there are others in Zaria who spoke to me about resuscitated infants with perinatal asphyxia. A small group of northern specialists have been researching a "controlled hypothermia" method here in Hordaland for children with neonatal encephalopathy. I actually became a participant in the last party's vocation. In April of 1846, their goal was to study how performing body-cooling techniques on oxygen-deprived newborns could reduce the risk of brain damage and cardiac arrest in five orphans. To my horror, I was asked to partake in these trial runs as a key asset.

I turned down the offer three times. Until then, the only body-friendly magic I'd ever distributed was for ice cream cakes, chocolate ice cream, frosted cookies, petticoats, and spiffy dresses. Later that year, I was stuck between a rock and a hard place after being presented with a document on newborns who had died from NE, many whose mothers I knew personally, and several who were on their way. My first collaboration with the men turned out to be far better than I ever imagined. Under their guidance, we practiced body cooling treatments between 33.5°C and 34.5°C for seventy-two hours before applying a four hour re-warming. I spent a good amount of my time monitoring the spell for another five orphans in Hordaland.

At the end of the year, I made hypothermic therapy blankets for infants who were eventually discharged with healthy oxygen flows to the brain. Because the cloaks are a hybrid between my magic and standard fabric, Anna says they look like mermaid tails with water circulating in the beads. Alas, the body-cooling treatment has only been performed six hours after a child's birth, and I'm not sure what your daughter's condition is, so I'm not giving you a referral to this practice. I would, however, like to get you in touch with the practitioners. Two of them have successfully diagnosed and sustained infants with hypoxia.

This is also the part where I have to apologize for not asking for your permission first because they're already sailing for Corona. I hope you aren't too upset about my decision. I just didn't feel like there was enough time to wait for your response. If you do agree to a consultation, then a diagnosis can be determined, a proposition can be pitched, and a daily procedure can be utilized. Both men advised me to supply my blanket as a supplement.

I don't know what good it'll do, but if they can find another use for it, then I'm more than happy to help. Like I said, you don't have to use my charm if the idea makes you feel uncomfortable. When the silver package arrives with this letter, please send it back if my offer oversteps your boundaries. If it doesn't, then know that the cloak inside is soothing to the touch. Dr. Ingul and Dr. Waldus will further educate you on it.

I genuinely appreciate you for not holding my absence against me. Hohendorf and I had interesting encounters during my first stay in Corona, so believe me when I say that I'm very used to their prejudice. The only opinion I care about is yours. All that is left to address are those famine response methods you've asked me about. My father devised Arendelle's relief operation before I was born, so I had a policy to turn to, but I did revise most of it. I'll start with the most important question:

Is food unaffordable or unavailable in Corona's impoverished areas?

If the first, then retrenchment is a must. Hopefully your subjects already considered lowering taxes and other means that they too are living well beyond. Otherwise, noblemen will hoard the food that they can purchase, sell it to underclassmen at a monstrous price, and drag the rural backcountry to the ground. This will lead to riots, violence, and unbridled rebellions against the Crown. Taxpayers will always believe that the king alone is responsible for countrywide chicanery.

If the second, then you don't want to be in a position where your people are primarily dependent on imported shipments from other countries. By the time the rations reach the hinterlands, an outrageous amount of Coronans will have lost their lives. To prevent that, I would advise you to close Corona's ports now instead of exporting more raw materials. It may seem like trading with foreign partners will "save your bacon" as Kristoff would say, but it will leave the belly of the country dry when you have to fall back on your own resources.

From this point on, I should warn you that these recourses may or may not have the same level of impact on Corona as they did on Arendelle, but they're worth a shot.

From Arendelle,
VIII of February, 1847
With friendship and support,
Queen Elsa

P.S. What exactly does "MIA" mean?

Chapter Text

Chapter Text

Chapter Text

To Your Majesty the King,

I hope that your men returned home safely. Because I know that you're being kept busy by your council, I tried to make this dispatch as concise as necessary:

My evening with King Kasimir in Vadstena Castle on the 29th was eye-opening, to say the least. The banquet turned out to be a premiere opening for its completed renovation. Two years ago, numerous monarchs contributed to the project for Queen Malmö after the degeneration of the fortress. I single-handedly donated interior designs to her architects and bricklayers, so my appearance was that much more mandatory for the honorary speech King Kasimir wanted to make. My old friend wasn't present, but all ten of her husband's brothers attended in order of appearance: Prince Jeronimus, Prince Blasius, Prince Lars, Prince Linus, King Ragnar, Prince Palmar, Prince Rudi, Prince Runo, Prince Emil, and Prince Aloysius. I've met the first three several times, but never have I seen all eleven living brothers in one hall.

Anna and I were introduced by King Kasimir to Prince Linus and Prince Blasius at the castle's gate. The clumsy kisses they planted on our wrists were uncomfortable to grin through, but the whole introduction went as well as it could've for a public establishment. Both men appeared to be soft ― quiet, but soft ― and I didn't feel the "off vibe" that I had felt with Prince Hans. They, for the most part, were too introverted to engage further. Prince Aloysius, dare I say it, complimented my dress in ways that aren't worth mentioning, but I have nothing unusual to report about the other brothers.

Out of courtesy, I'm going to bypass the details of the feast to talk about the ballroom dance instead. King Ragnar, Prince Aloysius, Prince Palmar, Prince Jeronimus, and King Kasimir asked me for one dance each ― and some obviously had vaguer intentions than others ― but I used King Ragnar's invitation to address him about my unanswered letter. The king didn't act ignorant, oblivious, or mendacious like I thought he would; he claimed that chauvinism led to the ostracism your men endured. The coast guards were suspended in the same week for mixing ethics with obligations. From King Ragnar's perspective, the seamen ignored your men's longboat because both it and the attire of its passengers bore Corona's insignia.

He followed up with this supposition by echoing the history between the people of the Southern Isles and Corona. He believes their saga is so full of hatred that it bred his natives to act on their bigotry. I was reluctant to accept this commentary, but his explanation has some support if we take a look at the invasions between Corona and the Southern Isles before the Age of Illumination. I also know that some Nordic people, principally from kingdoms with homogeneous societies, feel ethnically superior to those who aren't a part of the Nordic greenbelt. Yet the Southern Isles has long promoted a jingoistic institution alongside an uneducated idea of anthropology, and only recently have the old king's sons tried to recant them.

King Ragnar's exegesis about the relationship between those conventions and how your men were treated made sense in that light. It doesn't mean that there isn't elbow room for this to be his way of putting the blame on his people like King Kasimir is accused of doing by you, but the avouchment is worth noting. Our dance ended with Ragnar saying that he'd like to meet with you personally once you're ready. I told him to write to you before any more time goes by. These brothers certainly have a bad habit of expressing their disapproval to everyone but the victims of the situation.

I can see why you'd suspect a false front. I was a little aggravated with him myself; it was almost like he expected me to persuade you to speak with him on his behalf. Prince Aloysius is the only brother who made me feel tense during my dance with him. I met him for the first time at Rapunzel's memorial service, and he was very altruistic and adoring back then. On this particular night, his adoration was more than I could handle.

Normally, noblemen don't reveal their thoughts so readily, but I could sense his. Anna felt them as well and interrupted us at the perfect time. My waltz with King Kasimir was concluded in a hallway not too far from the waltzers. The distance was just enough to keep onlookers from hearing us, but we didn't have the privacy I wanted. The shadows flitting across his face were distracting in a sinister way, but what matters most is that I didn't have to dodge any small talk to get to the point.

His message comprised of three red flags:

1) Prince Hans

2) Your past

3) King Ragnar

Prince Hans will be having his ban lifted in a little over a year. Arendelle was under the impression that he would be living in exile for the rest of his life, but evidently, this isn't what his late father ordered. King Kasimir promised me that Hans will never have the freedom to leave the Southern Isles, though he says Hans has "dirt" on you that he may or may not come forward with in one way or another. I asked him what it was; he claimed to know no more than that, yet I know he's withholding it. Why Hans would even try to tarnish your reputation over mine is beyond my comprehension.

When it comes to your past, I personally only know what Corona had released in a publication: "Prince 'Eugene Fitzherbert' was an illegitimate son raised in an orphanage outside of the kingdom. He ran away at eleven and, in the words of his peers, 'dropped off the face of the planet.'" It goes on to say that after you saved Rapunzel from her kidnapper, your late father's noble family came out and claimed you as his. That was what I read at eighteen.

I never thought to question it, but if there is something unfavorable not being said, then it would be in yours and Corona's best interests to reveal it. Secrets damage more than the keeper's conscience; they damage lives and relationships. I know from first hand experience. You know as well. Never-mind what I've said here if this isn't the case.

The Ragnar equation didn't involve you, so I won't spend too much time on it. I thought about not including it in the letter at all, but I know you'll hear all about it through the grapevine and then write to me next month asking why I didn't tell you on my own. The bottom line is that King Kasimir would like to look into making a match, and it's one that my council has been considering since my birthday. If there weren't so many cons pitted against me by my age, the constitution, and its morganatic laws, I wouldn't have to think it over, but miserably, I must.

I'm sorry that this letter doesn't provide much "intel" in the long-run. I promised to write to you about the banquet, and so I have. It may look like I'm rambling more than anything, but I hope this letter means something in your eyes, at least.

From Arendelle,
II of March, 1847
With camaraderie,
Queen Elsa

Chapter Text

To Your Majesty the King,

My messenger returned from Corona with an invitation to your coronation. I'm afraid that I won't be able to attend because I'll be confined on loathly southern cays for another two weeks. At present, Anna is superintending Arendelle as my regent, but an envoy will be sent to your cathedral in place of us. I hear that my "hypothetical husband" will also be writing his salutations.

Arendelle's allies have been very open about their disapproval of Corona's choice to ceremonially crown you. I hope you haven't let them discourage you from going through with the service like the announcements say you have. You became and remained "King Eugene" at Rapunzel's behest; therefore, I pray that the reign she fought for stays in your coronation oath. Just continue to keep sight of your purpose and the man who swore he wouldn't break his promise to my cousin. Anna and I will be holding your hand in spirit right beside your wife's.

From Båhus,
XI of March, 1847
Wishing you the best of luck,
Queen Elsa

Chapter Text

To Your Majesty the Queen,

This letter is going to be a goliath, so please bear with me. I binge-read your epistles late last night after rocking my baby girl to sleep, and I'm pretty much still straining to keep my eyes open as we speak (or ink). That exhaustion might turn up in my butchered deliveries, but I'm doing what I can to give each point a deserving amount of attention. I'd just like to add one headnote to my update before I get to the main text:

What did you mean by "confined on loathly southern cays," exactly? I could be mistaking figurative speech for literal speech, and I'm 50% certain that you're not talking about the Southern Isles, but I'm 50% certain that you're talking about the Southern Isles, so some clarification would greatly ease my conscience. In the interim of that, I'll expand on your other material:

The shipwreck: I have got to thank you in person for taking care of my messenger and his escorts. They had plenty to say about your benignancy and "pulchritude" coupled with a novel of swoony tales about how you checked up on them every single day. They probably had a little too much to say about the pulchritude part, but what can you do? Overall, they're a grateful cavalry of characters who will probably be clogging your drawers with fan mail in the near future, so be prepared for that. Just know that I have nothing to do with any engagement rings that might possibly turn up in them.

Bogohardt is not the only one who's talked about mermaids in the Nördlich Sea (in case you were thrown off by my umlaut, this would be the name Corona uses). That's been an ongoing rumor for quite a while. At this juncture in my life, I'm apt to believe in unicorns, so mermaids aren't too out-of-water for my sanity metric.

The Valentine's gifts: Don't fret over them getting destroyed. They probably would've gotten lost under all the other packages you were getting from twitterpated suitors. Birthdays should be coming around pretty soon, so that's when I'll be able to make it up to you. If I'm not mistaken, Her Highness and Your Majesty fall under the Gemini and Virgo zodiacs.

The Magic Golden Flower: I haven't considered any parts of the flower still being alive inside of me at all. If it were, it might've been born with Izzy, but by the looks of things, that's not what happened. Would it be stupendous, however? Absolutely. I've always wanted superhuman powers, and what could be more special than healing powers?

After all, I may have been able to save my very own wife. Not being able to is how I know that the Magic Golden Flower is gone for good. . .

Isolde's recovery: I am to infinity and beyond proud of my baby girl. Inspired is another appropriate adjective. I could honestly learn a thing or two from her fortitude. Humorously enough, Izzy is starting to favor me more than she favors Rapunzel. I'm not sure if that's a good or bad thing, but I guess only time will tell.

Please do me a favor by not apologizing for your candor; every time you do, I feel bad. By the way, your simile was utterly relatable. I haven't been to any snow-capped mountains as of late, but I know being in the mountains, miles away from councils and rules, comes gift-wrapped with a feeling of euphoria. The height frees you from all the dust and debris down below, doesn't it? No matter what my day's been like, I try to spend the beginning and end of it with Izzy to keep that feeling alive.

I've even been reading a special book series to her that she'll appreciate ten times more when she's older. Except for a few minor tweaks on behalf of creative license, it's a retelling of her mother's adventures written by yours truly. Rapunzel's spirit always sits beside me when I read to our little us. The only downside to our story time is the fact that my physician thinks my back pain stems from my aversion to sleeping in my own bed, but I feel like it's my job to be at Isolde's side as her father, so that's something both he and my vertebrae will just have to get used to. I also stated in my previous note that I would definitely appreciate more of a head's up the next time you send physicians to Corona.

My trust in strangers with stethoscopes is significantly weak, but I do understand why you made the moves you did in the time frame that you did. You examined the situation and launched into action. I couldn't be more moved.

Trollsome Pabbie: Sorry, but I've never heard of rock trolls in all thirty-eight years of my life. Had I known that, I might've been a little more ambivalent towards the remedy and missed out on a grand opportunity to help my daughter. Magic is fine with me, but magic I'm unfamiliar with is a no-go. It took me days just to poke Rapunzel's frying pan at the magic charm you packaged. I hope you aren't offended, but I can't lie to you here.

Dr. Ingul did happen to drop a line about this charm soothing the skin of infants without neonatal encephalopathy (the amount of syllables in this word is pure evil), but I haven't put it in Izzy's bed. I seriously do hope that I'm not offending you by saying all this. It's not that I think you would harm Isolde; it's just that I've never seen your powers in healthy action. Really any action, for that matter, and it's a lot harder for me to be okay with giving Isolde something that I myself don't know much about in regards to its stability. Instead of keeping it locked up in my study forever, I am going to send it back to you in April once we've established our new mail mammal.

For what it's worth, your charm is rather dazzling. Mesmerizing, even. Anna's comparison was spot-on; the aesthetic appeal is so remarkable that you would think it came straight out of a fairy tale. What you did for those orphans sounds like it was frightening, wonderful, and moving all in one stint. I have to commend you on your bravery.

I'm curious, though: since it was such a success, aren't you worried about the attention it'll gain from chemists? I know you three are holding off on publicity and commercialization, but no matter when you choose to unveil the merits of supernatural science, the payoff will still open up a can of worms. I'm not aiming to add more weight to your load. I was just wondering if you thought about it.

The Ice Leaf: My apologies for keeping you in suspense with that indeliberate cliff-hanger. I was saying that there's nothing frosty about the Ice Leaf; the cringe-worthy name is purely aesthetic. There was a debate on whether it should have been called the "Frost Flower" or "Snowdrop," but I personally thought those were schmaltzy. Anyway, the petals are white with yellow anthers, and the only usable parts are the silver stalk's resin, the root, and most outstandingly, the leaves themselves. Anyone who soaks them can tell you that they don't have any magical properties, but that doesn't mean their herbal qualities aren't worth acknowledging.

The Ice Leaf is perfect for opening up the lungs, so it's been working wonders on Isolde's. I really never factored it into her situation until your team swooped in like the seraphs they are. Dr. Waldus brought the stalk back, used the indispensable pieces, combined it with the Maullow Root juice from Arendelle, let us mix it together with her therapy diet in the mornings, and voilá. She's been breathing better on her own ever since. No one could really explain to me the cause of her episodes until now. Since I finally have more leverage, life has been much kinder to my little sunshine.

Best of all, stimulating her pleural activity and massaging her chest with lobelia oil at dawn — as opposed to reviving her whenever she pauses for too long — has reduced those scary scenarios by and large. Isolde arrived at 36.5 weeks, so she's still a premature baby with needs that we have to work around, but her chances at a good life are far better than they would've been at thirty or twenty-four weeks. I don't know how to thank you and your team. All of you have exceeded my expectations by and large.

As a side note, honesty is never inappropriate. It's a requirement. Had this been orphan Eugene reading, then he would have objected to your testimony, but on the sheer strength of my new experiences, I understand your opinion about objectification and glorification being one and the same when you're a sovereign (or prince). What I will add is that you're actually treated as an object regardless of whether you're a sovereign or a peasant. To the people behind the crown, both are tools; to the people supporting it, you're either a god or a nobody, and therein that unhappy little system, hardly ever human.

But according to you, we have each other, so hopefully we can collaborate against the powers behind us to smooth out the bumpy mortar that lies between Arendelle-Corona relations.

The famine response method: I think your plan is exquisite. The first sign of crop trouble may have been the influx of wooly aphids covering my wife's garden last year, which are rather bizarre immigrants. Mildew began growing on our vegetables, legumes, grapevines, hops, squash, and other cucurbits several months later in the villages of Hohendorf. The strange mist from the sea has turned stalks black and ruined some of what they had in storage for the winter.

All of these rapid climate changes keep depressing the yields we rely on, so unrelenting rain caused prices on salt for meat preservation, wheat, and grain to climb. Many poor people in Hohendorf didn't have access to the foods that were being stored because of those prices; not knowing how else to balance the kingdom, I built small meal centers from the ground up instead. Animal diseases carried over from the ships of foreign livestock breeders recently stormed Gustrow, putting the onus on the Crown. Trade ministers think stopping traffic is a must. Meanwhile, you think closing ports would stop every layer of this cataclysm from going from bad to worse, yet my councilmen are stuck on a teeter-totter...

The public believes we're at a brush with the bubonic plague, but I can promise you that's we're nowhere near it. The hardest part is really figuring out how we should go about monitoring and containing conditions. We've separated the sick livestock from the people in Gustrow and quarantined those who have already gotten sick by placing them in the isolated care of holistic doctors. I don't like it, but I've maxed out every other option.

As things stand right now, some of the Gustrow orphans who haven't eaten in weeks aren't able to digest food, and the food therapy I was given is too strong for their stomachs, but I have a plan that will reverse the clocks. I always have a plan.

Your coronation: Did I stare? My apologies. I guarantee you that it wasn't because you were horrifying. Not visually, anyway. Now, was I horrified? Well, yes and no.

To clear the air, I was only trying to figure out if what I saw was more than a delusional head trip on my part. Weselton saved you from my gawking faster than I could blink, so there wasn't much that I could've said, and I was willing to keep it that way. One particular opinion of mine was very constant: you were afraid, and fear is not the demeanor of a monster. In any case, I wouldn't have gone out on some "noble" mission to expose your magic. Maybe babble to my wife in gibberish, but I wasn't going to grab a pitchfork and tell everyone to go light their torches.

In the eyes of Prince Eugene, whatever you were hiding and whatever you had wasn't anyone's business except your own. At this moment in time, I regret not having actually said something when I first saw that helpless look on your face. I absolutely should've said something, but instead, I let you walk away. I want to apologize for that as well. You deserved a shoulder.

Oh, and MIA is actually just an abbreviation for "Missing in Action." And yes, I did sniggle when you asked.

The banquet: I suspected that you would attend no matter what I told you. You come off like the type of matriarch who can't be swayed or snowed once her mind has been made up, which is somehow as disappointing as it is admirable. I was going to send an envoy to the banquet just to keep an eye on you, but that plan never fell through. I highly respect what you said about dehumanization and impartiality; you've got my vote. I just have trouble distancing my objectivity from my intuition in this scenario.

King Ragnar's explanation may hold water, but I have to go with my gut instinct on this one and say that he most likely is trying to vindicate himself in the same breath. I haven't received anything from him and I'm not at all surprised. On top of which, your reenactment of that waltz with Prince Aloysius didn't shock me, either. There's a certain way to handle a woman after you've jarred the "butterflies" she stirs within you, and making her uncomfortable ain't it. That legitimately hit a nerve in me and I wasn't even the one suffering in his arms.

If you'd ever like me to pummel him one day, just say the magic word. I'm sure we can arrange something in a back alley.

My coronation: It didn't go as coordinated. Frederic's crown jewels were stolen by two convicts who have yet to be found. Their heist delayed the coronation and climactically sent everyone packing. The lack of royal attendance is making us reconsider putting on another one. I can't say I'm disappointed.

What other kings and politicians are saying isn't anything new. I'm used to being "envied" in public. I stuck it out as Prince Eugene and I can't do anything except stick it out as King Eugene, but with everything that's been happening, it did pile up on me this time around. I fell prey to a moment of weakness. That wasn't why I wanted to call off the coronation, however.

I wanted to cancel the whole thing because of what's been happening in Gustrow. That needs far more coverage than libels from people traveling halfway across the world to heckle me.

The three red flags:

1) Prince Hans

I'm not even a little bit daunted by this caveat. Hans and I have a very brief yet briny history together. To make a long story short, he tried to get me pinned under a chandelier on my wedding day. I never mined any evidence to support that feeling in the bones and neither did I speak on that feeling in the bones. It really was buried underneath my subconsciousness, but after word got out about what he did to Her Highness and Your Majesty, I was sure of it then: he had graduated from trying to widow a princess to trying to widow a kingdom.

2) My past

Don't dwell on it. No matter what he verbally dishes out, I've got it taken care of.

The publication: I was never claimed by anyone. They just decided to put out an interview about me being a royal duke's illegitimate son. He's not dead, either. I don't know what part of the world he's currently deflowering, but he hasn't claimed me, so the Bishop of Corona pardoned my illegitimacy for my marriage.

3) King Ragnar

Please tell me that you're not actually going to accept this viper's offer. There have to be other lovelorn suitors gallivanting and gladiatoring for your heart, preferably ones without reptilian DNA. I realize that Princess Anna has a morganatic marriage, I understand what biological clocks are, and I get that the Storting is looking for "guaranteed equanimity" to keep your kingdoms permanently cordial, but this isn't cosigning international peace. This is cosigning a life sentence. It's literally everything Hans has ever dreamed of.

Pardon me for being so forward, but I'm wracking my brain for another way to word this. For your own safety, I very much hope that Your Majesty won't go through with this. Just hold off on the "gestational" problem for a little longer.

From Corona,
XXIII of March, 1847
King Eugene

Chapter Text

To Your Majesty the King,

It's wonderful to hear from you again. It's always interesting to read your colorful catchphrases and quasi-colloquial expressions; they have a lot of personality paired with subliminal messages that I'd like to crack. I wouldn't prescribe binge-reading my next stack because I don't want you expending your energy in one sitting. If it's alright with you, I'm going to start from the bottom of your letter and work my way up.

1) King Ragnar

Your Majesty, I would like to "hold off on my problem" and husbands for the rest of my life, but I don't have the liberty to neglect my responsibilities at the age I am reaching. I refused marriage proposals in my early twenties because I promised the Storting that I would fulfill my commitments to the crown before my thirtieth birthday. Now I have to compete with other odds that I underestimated six years ago. Countless men don't want to have children with me for obvious reasons, but I came to terms with that; others think I'm a temptress instead of a wholesome woman, and I swallowed that down, too. The ones who considered me in the past are disinclined to now because I'm not a young girl anymore; I'm what the continent calls a "leftover woman," and it is my "leftover" prospects that strike me as untrustworthy.

While I didn't say yes to the suggestion of King Ragnar because of a gestational countdown, the point you made about guaranteed equanimity is incredibly pivotal. The rocky relationship between our kingdoms, which had once steered us into a dual monarchy in the 16th century, hinges on maintaining neutral ground. Impartiality has been drowned out by screaming matches since his father's reign. In late March, we got ourselves into a screaming match after Ragnar's Ministry of Integration reportedly bankrolled a guerrilla attack on freedom fighters who were protesting against nationwide mistreatment of indentured servants from the Kiribat Isles, which retreated into a state of isolationism years ago.

As you and I both calculated, King Kasimir believed that joint futurition would polarize the ideological differences between Arendelle and the Southern Isles in this jingoistic equation. One third of the Storting must have thought the same. Fortunately, I do know better. Arendelle has never admitted a large wave of immigrants, but my homeland and the Southern Isles are on two completely different pages in the unwritten book of basic human rights. Marriage does not unite incompatible partners, and it certainly does not unite incompatible kingdoms.

The Statsrådet and King Kasimir could be right about Arendelle becoming a good influence on the Southern Isles, but the odds of a civil war would be lower if King Ragnar was already rectifying his country's retrogression. He claims that he wants the Southern Isles to be anti-bellicistic, yet he has failed to inspire that conviction in his people. He took a passive stance on these March attacks. What's more is that succession in Arendelle is mainly determined by male preference primogeniture. Without an Act of Parliament to limit his power, my future husband will be styled king by jure uxoris.

The ways in which my kingdom charged its head of state with treason after so readily hailing Hans was only one example of my political vulnerability as a woman. One of the many things I admired about your relationship with Rapunzel was how you treated her as both your wife and your friend. Never did you try to conquer and colonize her simply because you are a man. I had hoped that a man would come forward with the same intentions if I was to marry against my own heart, but the last resort standing before me is not that man. All the same, rapprochement between our kingdoms is essential to Arendelle, and I will be forced to give my answer with delicacy and objectivity.

I also tried to explain the pros and cons of marriage to King Ragnar as we discussed his political passivity on our private date in Arendelle. He unconvincingly agreed to put off the union to inculcate a moral change in his kingdom, but he asked that I consider Prince Aloysius as an alternative.

By and by, I lose patience and points with my council and, evidently, my "excuses". . .

.. . ..I'm so sick and tired of fighting with the world of men that I don't know how to cope with this . . .. .

But you and I can discuss this at a later date. Tonight isn't the right time, and my notions are taking an improper turn. I apologize.. .

2) Your past

I don't mean to sound forward or overbearing, but you haven't given me an answer. I respect that it'll take a few years for you to get comfortable with relying on me, though I can't help but feel like you flatter me in some places and dodge me in others. At first I thought it was just your personality, but the blasé and often merry tones behind some of your statements seem inauthentic when you say everything will be or is under your control. Your colorful phrases come off like unnatural mitigators in your letter. We don't have to be glued at the hip, but please don't be intentionally illusive; it creates a counterproductive gray area.

3) Prince Hans

Why did you keep this bad blood in the dark for so many years? You probably thought it wasn't relevant before this leak, but it would've been something valuable to talk about beyond birthday letters and holiday cards.

Your coronation: I'm sorry about your coronation. You know as well as I do that I would never blame your reservations on weakness of character. Your adversaries are at fault. The better news is that your thieves were written to have crossed our borders as of April 1st. If you can supply their names, my men can supply a search and seize behind a fresh pursuit in Arendelle.

The banquet: Your judgment is accurate. I do use my intuition, but I only make final judgments when there is enough evidence to support my analysis. My visit wasn't the investigation I was conducting, however. I wanted to give your testimony to a private eye and his team. They're a bit of an unorthodox trio, but they're trustworthy.

I apologize for getting you all riled up over Prince Aloysius. Having never felt any towards a man myself, I know nothing of these butterflies you speak of, and I know not the amount of self-restraint it takes for some men to control their enthusiasm in public. Prince Aloysius wrote an insincere apology letter days after the banquet, but I don't need you to pummel him. I already have Anna.

My coronation: "In the eyes of Prince Eugene, whatever you were hiding and whatever you had wasn't anyone's business except your own."  This explanation is actually a lot more compassionate than you could ever imagine, but what do you mean by "not visually, anyway?" Was that a compliment or an insult?

"(...) MIA is just an abbreviation for "Missing in Action." If that's what it stands for, then I deserve to be sniggled at.

The famine response method: What you're doing is inevitable. If you don't isolate the sick from the healthy, the end results will ruin Corona. Continue to treat them in a safe environment and don't be afraid to add guards to those quarantined areas. Simply make sure the patients are being treated humanely by personnel and herbalists in the location. Their motivation to fight this enemy will also rely on your courage, so be accessible by showing compassion like one human to another.

I am shipping peanut pastes and milk powder formulas to you as we write. Have your doctors mix them with water before giving them to the children for four months until they're able to stomach solid foods. If there are any other supplies you need, have your representative write a list to my private secretary. Once I get the Storting on my side, either I, Anna, or both of us will be on Corona's island to help you. Should something happen before then, I want you to come to Arendelle with your daughter. That is not a request.

The Ice Leaf: Based on how effective it sounds, I hope you've already chosen to share it with those who need the flower stalk in Hohendorf. Villagers with the cough will benefit from an expectorant.

Isolde's recovery: No thanks is necessary. As I've stated time and again, you and Isolde are my family. When you write to me about how well you two are doing, I'm able to sleep a little. When weeks pass without me seeing your handwriting, my nights are another story entirely.

A lot like how you might not want me to apologize for my candor — which I still must — I don't want you to think that I'd be offended by your own. I understand your decision perfectly. No offense has been felt. This will be our last exchange by sea until winter comes, so it would be better if you returned my charm on ship.

I have read reviews about your critically acclaimed saga. Anna and I plan on ordering them very soon.

The blanket: I won't say that I'm not worried or haven't thought about what you conjectured. I see it play out in my mind all the time. I'll simply have to prepare myself for the advantages and disadvantages once I'm ready to climb that mountain. I am well aware of extremists who long to perform surgeries on my body and invite me to their countries for "special" tests. This has been and will forevermore be my life.

At twenty-seven, I feel and know that using my powers to help people on a global scale is what's right, for the world's needs are much bigger than myself and my fears. My life has more meaning when I help someone else. It's a purpose that I've shouldered to atone for all the trouble I caused at twenty-one. This responsibility is mutually exclusive with being one of multiple world leaders.

The Valentine's gift: Apart from a sweet little boy named Fredmund, your Valentine's present would've been the first I have ever received from someone other than Anna, Sven, and Olaf. Men do not fancy me nearly as much as yours have misled you to believe. Most have either kept their distance or told lies. Genuine interest is foreign to me. I don't pity myself nonetheless.

What motivates you to assume that I'm a Virgo? You're the ninth man who has said this as more of a statement than a question. I don't know enough about the zodiac to draw comparisons, but I suppose that I'm sending strong Harvest Maiden vibrations. As a matter of fact, I was born on the winter solstice and Anna was born in the springtime. You used to mail us birthday greetings, remember? Yours will be in September (that'll be the Libra, isn't that right?), which means that I'm obligated to send you a gift first; you're not thirty-eight yet.

The shipwreck: Once more, no thanks is necessary. I think I'll pass on hearing whatever else your men had to say, but do send them my regards. They were wonderful gentlemen. Practically speaking, I don't have much to say about the mermaid buzz except that I prefer to believe something after all other logical theories have been exhausted.

The southern mountains: My wording was a little melodramatic, wasn't it? I was repairing my threatened standing with the formerly seceded Båhus, which lies south of Arendelle's borders. I hope that eases your conscience.

From Arendelle,
VI of April, 1847
Praying for your safety,
Queen Elsa

P.S. That last image of you rocking Isolde was heartwarming. I can't wait to spend those moments with her as well. Do sleep well, Eugene.

Chapter Text

To Your Majesty the Queen,

I haven't heard from Your Majesty in over a month, and I more than likely won't be hearing from you again for a very long time, but I've taken it upon myself to make do with the pigeon post. I was going to use this blank sheet of vellum to write about how offended I was by some of your implications in the middle of April, but none of that matters at this point in time. I'm very sorry that you feel like I'm not being real with you, Your Majesty, and maybe I have been forcing myself to bite off more than I can chew, but if I have your permission to be real right now, then I want to say that you've given me the same impression five times out of ten. I feel like you do plenty that you force yourself to do on behalf of everyone else.

For one, you ignore your health. You apologize for fragile moments that make you feel more personable to me. You replace them with extravagant language and formalities despite the tear stains you leave on your letters. The fact that you're stressed out, irritated with me, unable to sleep, and angry about an abominable situation is not completely explicit all throughout your reply, but I can feel it steaming off compound predicates that look proper and polite. I'm probably overstepping my boundaries by saying this, but these are what my honest thoughts look like — no spiel and no puns. (And very little sobriety, since I'm not totally liquor-free today).

I'm not looking to guilt-trip you or make you feel like you're not talking to me the way you should be, but I think we have habits that are frighteningly similar. Somewhere down the line, those habits will have to be accepted as parts of the packages we come in. The other facets of this conversation will have to be put on the back burner because I want to talk about what I woke up to this morning. I received something that turned whatever balancing acts our worlds had very upside down. This is the physical page of the news column:

Before I say, do, or ruin anything else, I want to apologize from the bottom of my heart for endangering Arendelle, your sister, and you. I jeopardized every last one of my quarantine camps and my citizens on the island. My fatal mistakes are eating me alive. I can't even begin to sit here and think about how much energy the Storting is drawing out of you, but I agree with at least one thing Stoltenberg said. Put and take care of yourself first before you try to take care of anyone else.

Your very life depends on it, Elsa.

From Corona,
XXV of May, 1847
King Eugene

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 ༺[❄]༻♕༺[❄]༻ 

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Dear Prime Minister,

I must ask Your Excellency to please accept a passel of apologies for this long overdue gesture of reciprocation. I made a late recovery in December and couldn't use the pigeon post to get my delivery overseas. Corona's postal service is closed during winter, and in a nutshell, I was left with no way of contacting Her Majesty's secretary because of the embargo your parliament enacted against my country. Leastwise, my misfortunes have been partly resolved by the Storting's offshore amendment to the embargo's exportation clause last December. Because continental press releases remain inaccessible to Corona this season, the amendment was unheralded, but the surprise shipments from Arendelle have steadily reintroduced nutrients and hope to my capital since January 26th, so we aren't thankless. I took the initiative of asking one captain to return this letter on his way home.

I, as the affine of your queen, am grateful to Your Excellency for taking time out of your day to inform me about her wellbeing after five long months of exile. Choice words such as "intense passion," "love," and "affection" towards Her Majesty utterly misapply to me, but your interior statement was much appreciated. Alas, the closing of your letter didn't necessarily round things off or add to my contentment. Your Excellency neglected sharing Her Majesty's status, to what procedures she was exposed, in which ways the ague negated inoculations, and what type of special treatment she forewent as a side effect. With no disrespect to the keepers of Her Majesty's throne, I would like to speak with Princess Anna to receive the closure that I am owed.

Above that, Your Excellency has not written to me about the queen's recuperation since October. Corona isn't getting extralocal news in general, so I have no idea what shape she's in. If Her Majesty is within reach, please tell her this: "I didn't want you to put yourself in the line of fire, but I don't plan on sitting around while the rest of the world watches it happen."

On the brightest key, Your Excellency's postal coverage on the Bovi Fever has helped me find a sanitary way to incorporate Arendelle's approach into our own healthcare system. Not all of the birds you sent crossed the border, but the people who needed those deliveries received them. I believe this was around the week that Corona's Guardian of the Crown sent a messenger bird to the Storting about the capital's victory against the Bovi Fever. I was in quarantine, so there isn't much I can personally recount, but I'll never forget the looks I saw on everyone's faces from my windowsill.

I have both you and Her Majesty to thank for that. I also know that I have a new bounty on my head and a large sum to fork over for those lost infants and mothers in Arendelle, and I will pay it. I'm already paying for it with my night terrors.

I'm going to have to close my letter here. My body isn't in the best condition for a longer heart-to-heart duologue. But lastly, I will expatiate on the articles published by the likes of trifling quidnuncs such as journalist J. Abelard. My council has petitioned against him in order to deflate his hot air balloon, but we can't legally keep anyone from their free speech if that's what you're asking us to do. J. Abelard is one (potentially border-hopping) news-hawk out of twenty; from experience, I can attest to his mouth not being the head voice of all Coronans just as I don't believe Deputy Kolbein Stoltenberg speaks for all of Arendelle.

And here is where I will end my letter with this much to be confessed:

I am grateful for Her Majesty. A measuring tape can't even measure the extent of what I feel. I'm sure she's been a queen worth waiting for. Please tell her that as many times as you can.

From Corona,
I of February, 1848
With thanks,
King Eugene

P.S. I would have expected an ordinary ambassador or private secretary to substitute Queen Elsa's ink with theirs, so I'm assuming Your Excellency and Her Majesty are close enough to engage in that type of dialogue.

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Dear Eugene,

I don't even know where to start. .. . I haven't stopped shaking since October because I thought I had lost you and Isolde forever. I forgot what it felt like to read good news until Captain Brøgger came into my bedchamber with your letter. You'll never know how relieved I am to know for certain that you and Isolde are alive, Eugene. I wanted so badly to write to you and beg you to evacuate to Arendelle if you didn't hate me already for being so useless to you. .. .

I tried to set things up to where I could get back to you with Captain Brøgger's help, but getting my letter into Corona almost cost him more than he could risk. Arendelle's messengers are banned from carrying deliveries from or into Corona until eighty-percent of your capital's population has been relieved of the Bovi Fever. The biggest problem with this policy aside from merely existing is the unavailability of the pigeon post in winter, which means that you and I won't have contact every winter from now on. If the pigeon post becomes a part of the ban this year, then we won't have any access to each other at all. To add insult to injury, I have and currently am being subjected to the Storting's version of your "Care of King During Illness Act."

I did take your spring letter to heart — the one about me not feeling accessible to you all the time. You were right. I was being hypocritical. If I can have your permission to be real right now, I want to say that I can't allow you to be cut off from us ever again. I sent a carrier the Storting won't whine about, someone small and elusive enough to avoid being seen by your people.

You probably weren't any less afraid than they were when you first set eyes on him, but I hope he didn't frighten you enough to make you flatten him with a broomstick. I want you to pay attention to what I'm about to tell you if my message isn't too crumpled up for you to read. The letter you wrote on May 25th didn't find me until October 2nd because of everything that's happened. For more than forty days, one of the only things Anna and I could think about was, "When will we hear from Eugene again?" After October's horror story, we were left with crying, "Will we ever hear from Eugene again?"

I thought I had failed Rapunzel for good. I won't be able to handle feeling that way in another event. I can't expect myself to keep up with what lies ahead of us if I go on like this, so I want you to give me some peace of mind by leaving Corona with Isolde this month. Recovering from the ague has been hard for me because I know neither one of you are by my side. I know it's been even harder for you to be there all alone without any support from us; Anna has been writing in secret, but from the sounds of it, her letters haven't been reaching you at all.

I honestly feel like my recovery period was a waste of time that could've been spent on finding some other way to help you when you needed me the most. The Storting's ban still extends to me until they can agree on abandoning their so-called protection policies. In Grandpabbie's opinion, I'm not immune to flares of the Bovi Fever if it still persists in Hohendorf's overrun quarantines, and I'm sensitive to contagions in ways that others aren't. He says that if I come to blows with it again, I'll end up hurting myself and everyone else. That's why I need you and Isolde to come to Arendelle.

You may have already seen Arendelle's sailors lower packages into Corona's rowboats instead of physically docking their ships because of the North's propaganda. You and I both know we can get this under control together. I asked the Storting to allow a ship to come get you last October, but they refused because you were ill. Today, one will be coming to bring you and your daughter to Arendelle — to Anna. After that, we'll think of something — anything; I just don't want you and your daughter to stay in the environment you're in.

I have a feeling you'll fight me on this, but I hope you understand that Corona needs its king to stay alive in order for him to save it. Being trapped with it won't help. And please stop; you don't owe me or Baldor a "passel of apologies." You don't owe the Storting a used piece of toilet wipers and you know it, so cut it out right now. You have more of a right to scream at me for swearing by promises that I couldn't keep.

The entire continent owes you an apology. I owe you an apology; your country, your daughter, Rapunzel, Aunt Arianna, Uncle Frederic . . . the list is never-ending. In that same breath, I'm sick of saying "sorry" in situations where it doesn't do anything for the lives that were lost. To think most of this was helped by Arendelle's government policy, ally abandonment, international fear, overseas disgust, and scheming princes who want people to die is making me question what I'm doing in the center of it. I knew horrible things happened in the world, but I didn't know the world would just stand by and watch while they happened; I feel lost between knowing the harsh reality and believing in the happy ending I want to give everyone.

This travel ban takes you further away from me, but it hasn't taken me away from you. Although I have failed you as a relative, the day when our limitations disappear will be the day our lives change for the better. I promise you that your night terrors won't go on for much longer, Eugene. The real recovery will begin when you're here with us. All of us.

Please stay strong.

From Arendelle,
I of March, 1848
Faithfully yours,
Elsa

P.S.  When I got sick, I had a hard time with my powers for nine months. I wasn't contagious or dangerous, but I was a danger to myself. Grandpabbie helped, yet things aren't completely back to normal even with his instructions. If it's okay with you, that's all I'd like to share on paper. I'd feel more comfortable talking about it once we're finally face-to-face.

Chapter Text

Dear Elsa,

Boy, have I been waiting to get a letter like this. Uncut, unrehearsed, and unabashed. I got all fuzzy inside for a minute or two of savoring heartfelt confessions combined with lukewarm sass. Paragraph eight especially cheered me up after the second scolding. Where've you been hiding all this time?

No, but really — all (regrettably inappropriate) jokes aside — thank you. I needed it. This, I mean. I was scared, too. For both of us, actually. I was completely terrified.

I did everything in my power to hide my anxiety from your prime minister, who seemed to very much want a love confession out of me any way he could get it, but off-page, I was in shambles. You don't send a letter like that to someone and not include every detail entrusted to you. The imagination can conjure up all sorts of nightmares in the meantime, and I've had enough of those to last me a lifetime. Your latest letter might not give me the closure I need, but getting a response from you personally does wonders for my insomnia.

To make a long story short, I'm glad you're alright, Elsa. I really am. I can't even tell you how much, because I thought I had killed you. I thought, "my wife's cousin is about to die because of me." That's when I remembered that I'm the one who's supposed to be protecting her family, not the other way around.

Last year, I swore I wouldn't pile my duties onto your crown, but Corona was left in the dark over what really felt like my name, and that has been a bitter pill to swallow all by myself. I couldn't tell if I had been permanently stopped from ever contacting you again because of it, if my first carrier pigeon didn't make it, if the Storting had codified a second ban, or if you and Anna were even alive anymore. Then September "happened," and sitting in the dark with four walls around me just became a part of my life...or what's left of it, anyway.. .

Tonight, I'm not in that head space anymore, and I most certainly don't want you to be. I can and will promise you that I won't be dying from any fever, famine, or tabloid any time soon, so don't you worry about me, little lady. This mangy old O'Malley still has seven lives left. And, if it's not too much to ask, he would also like you to tell him what you need from him beyond mere respiration. That is, if you could ever need anything from him; it's been starting to read like you're the knight in shining armor in this story.

...And he should probably tell you that he did sweep the floor with that abominable snowman you sent the second it came hopping into his study like a leprechaun on opium. Bopped him on the head, locked the door, and haven't looked back since. I literally have no idea where the bugger went, but I know he's still in there somewhere, so I've sort of been sleeping with the chair against the door. I'm not trying to be picky or anything, but do you have a less creepy spy in mind? Perhaps one without a madman's grin? (I highly applaud you for breaking the rules to reach me, though; your "way" of doing it was simultaneously scary and creative)

Before I get too sidetracked, I know I mainly have to explain why your ship came back to Arendelle without us on it. That should've been the first thing I talked about, but my thoughts and feelings are terribly out of order tonight. By now, Captain Haugen should've told you what I asked him to in so many short, grumbly words, but I need to elaborate on what he might've left out. I did heed your warning about banned messengers, but just know that a sailor named Fredmund volunteered to get this letter to you if I wrote it in time. Because we're short on that, I'm just as desperate as you are to take any opportunity that comes my way.

So here it is with a headnote:

I'm not resisting your order, but there are two obstacles that I wish we could've discussed before we got into the tight conundrum we're in now:

1) Isolde can't make a 20+ hour trip to Arendelle by sea. My daughter is a year old, and she still needs accommodations that a winter sail can't ensure. At the very worst, she could die. Here in Corona, she has a safety net. Our citizens are struggling, but Isolde and I are the most fed and protected people in the kingdom. After all, she won't be riding out onto the Golden Bridge to stop an altercation between guards and orphans like her father did; she can't leave the palace until the outbreak ends.

2) In the event that I have no choice but to send Isolde to Arendelle, I would essentially choose to live in Corona. Here's where I'm going to ask you to try and put yourself in my shoes by standing where I'm standing. If I leave the people of Corona at the height of blight, they'll take my departure as abandonment. I'll take that as my abandonment. As you've already acknowledged, abandoning someone is the worst crime you could ever commit when they need your presence like they need a reason to live. Rapunzel's father once told me that a king's job is to stand in the storm with his people.

Isolde doesn't have to, but I do. And unless I do, their spirits will be broken beyond all repair, and they'll feel and be even more alone than ever before. The kid in me already knows what that feels like. I'll basically be the king everyone expected me to be, which is a runaway rogue.

. .. .I'm truly horrified by what I just said as well as my decision to seriously go through with this, but a different choice might haunt me more than I already have been, so there's no turning back now. My hauntings won't stop at Arendelle. The number of faces I'm seeing at night will only grow. I hope you can find it in your heart of hearts to respect my decision and understand my position as the wise woman you are. And for what it's worth, you're not "hatable" like you keep telling yourself you are. Why you think you should be is beyond me, but I'm here to tell you that you're not, unfortunately, so please get that thought out of your mind.

If we're being completely honest here, I'm the one who's disposal. I keep thinking it's my fault that the press used you as their chew toy over what I should be capable of fixing. The fact that you could've died last year makes me feel guiltier. .. .

I truly, truly don't want to cause you any more physical, mental, or emotional harm, Elsa, but you absolutely could've walked away from this if you absolutely had to. When you got sick, you absolutely should've. Apparently, you absolutely won't, and that's as respectable as it is troubling for me to sleep with. I don't know how much more you can do for us, but . . . I really do feel grateful for what you tried to do and did do even when things were getting worse for you where you are. I just wish you didn't feel this unhealthy need to sacrifice yourself.

Someday, I'll be in the position to make up everything to you and Arendelle. I just don't know when or how. It would feel so completely amazing to say that this letter to you won't be my last, or how positively sure I am that this is just another pothole in a never-ending road of setbacks. But I can't. And that's...

Incredibly hard to soak in.

But please stay safe.

From Corona,
III of March, 1848
Eugene

P.S. I just have one more concern: Prince Aloysius. Are you officially engaged to him or not?

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To Your Majesty the Queen,

I would like to express my regrets for the abrasive and accusatory language in my last letter. I was completely out of line. In order for us to communicate effectively, we have to feel comfortable with each other, and I think my last letter upset the comfort level that we were building. Moodiness isn't a default trait in my character. Furthermore, I didn't talk to you the way a man should talk to a woman.

I had let my personal problems marinate for the first time since my wife transitioned and wounded up flaring up at you and what you "couldn't" or "didn't do" for Corona without saying that directly. Things went from passive-aggressive to aggressive as I made inexplicit ultimatums that were not mine to make. Those inroads were audaciously inappropriate, patronizing, mean-spirited, and lacked the respect that you deserve. Therefore, I genuinely apologize for the way I approached you; that isn't who I am.

I really do understand that you're caught between the hammer and the anvil with Corona, Arendelle, Norrlind, and the Southern Isles. You're a family member who's just trying to be a family member, but you're also a queen who has to be a queen. Corona wants to thank you for being one to ours. A lot more of Arendelle's ships - some with regular fishermen - have been sailing in with salted cod fish, pork, mutton, ptarmigan, Jarlsberg cheese, vegetables (Corona's main intake), nutrition supplements, and the last of your inoculations, so I know you did or said something to make all of that happen for us. Everyone unconditionally cherishes and honors your unconditional commitment.

My goal with you is to do whatever it takes to stay on the same page before our chapter together ends with a dotted line. I value the resourceful dynamic we've built and thoroughly believe that our partnership can find other ways to feed Arendelle-Corona relations. But whatever Her Majesty plans on doing with Prince Aloysius, please make sure that you do it carefully, and before Prince Hans is released this year if he hasn't been already.

From Corona,
I of June, 1848
King Eugene

P.S. I hope Princess Anna will accept a late birthday present.

Chapter Text

Dear Elsa

To Your Majesty the Queen,

. . . How are you, exactly? What's happened since my last letter? What became of Hans and Aloysius? I'm asking because Corona doesn't receive news about your side of the equator. We've lost touch with the real world; even the world we're in doesn't feel real anymore. Or maybe I'm the one who's lost touch.

I honestly resisted sitting here and writing to you tonight, but I need you.

. . . Alright, so that definitely created the wrong atmosphere by oversimplifying my point. Let me put the bottle down and sip on some water. Allow me to start over. What I meant to explain was this:

I know what you're thinking. Well, technically I don't know what you're thinking, which is why I'm writing this letter to begin with, but I have an idea of what you're thinking, and I just want to know what it is that I can do to get you and me back on the right track. This sounds like I'm begging you for a response because that is exactly what I'm doing. You left cliffhangers that you wouldn't have left if our alliance was in good standing, such as what you were planning on doing with Prince Aloysius. Since so much time has passed between then and now, you're probably married to him, preparing for the next heir to the throne, or in a situation that's way worse than those two for all I know.

It's not your duty to keep me updated on the status of your marriage, but I'm worried about you. I asked Constantine about Aloysius, and he told me everything that I was in absolutely no condition to hear. I don't know if you know his track record, but his appetite for women isn't something you should be subjecting yourself to in exchange for an insider's scoop. Unprincipled rakes like him aren't just misogynistic; they're possessive. Women are looked at as property to the point where their jealousy takes on a personality of its own.

I feel like maybe he's already done something to get in the way of you communicating with me. I doubt that he's nutty enough to physically make that happen, but cooking up schemes behind the scenes are right up the Westergaard family's alley. Obviously, millions of catastrophes can prevent someone from writing back or getting their pigeon across the border. I'm just worried about which one it is. I'd rather believe that you were choosing not to reply to me because I deeply hurt you.

Right now, I desperately need to ask for your ear. Corona is getting rockier financially. Rugen isn't getting worse and it isn't getting better. "Trade retrenchment" had its advantages before the Bovi Fever. Cutting down high expenses in a way that won't make everything else go to pieces is trickier. The council thinks we should use tax revenues to build walls around Rugen and make "security measures easier."

Constantine is also pressuring me with his own post-famine succession plans, and as of today, Rapunzel's birthday is just seventeen sunsets away...

It's enough to make a sane man go six feet under.

From Corona,
I of July, 1848
Worrying about you with exactly the right amount of concern,
Eugene

P.S. I settled with sending Anna a trinket instead of homemade sweets. We still have Arendelle's pigeons in postal lofts, so I had it delivered in the middle of June. I hope she enjoyed it.

Chapter Text

To Your Majesty the Queen,

Please write back to me so I'll know that you and Anna are alright; I didn't get a single letter on Rapunzel's birthday. I was waiting on you to offer some wise advice that would convince me to show my face in Corona that morning. I thought the kingdom was going to make it a day for mourning instead of a day for her life's celebration. I thought it was going to be impossible for me to get up.

I'm not going to say it wasn't, because I didn't plan on opening my bedroom doors at all.

But I did. And I'm so glad that I did...

I barely got through my opening speech, but I felt her small, warm hand slip into mine and hold on tight. I haven't felt her sunshine in so long that I almost didn't recognize it. The best part about feeling her against my skin is that she didn't leave me this time. She stayed the whole day and watched Corona relive her. She watched the island perform stage reenactments of the “Tangled Tales of Rapunzel” before placing gifts in front of her portrait with her parents; she watched me stumble over my words and sob out others.

She even saw the murals that were being made of her. She saw everything that made her birthday a genuine celebration of who she was — and I actually managed to smile through half of it. I cried through all of it, but I smiled, too. Our little us also got to meet her. Maybe not in the way that I or Rapunzel would have wanted her to, but in a way that she needed, and it was everything I needed to remember why I can't buckle under the weight of the crown I'm wearing.

I showed our daughter Rapunzel's paintings at sunset and she picked up a paintbrush for the first time. She tried to use my face as her first canvas, so we definitely had to settle for chalk. With a little help from Rapunzel herself, what made the end of the day bearable was Isolde drawing a small purple flower right next to her mother's in our bedroom. Now she can't stop making them in her room. I tried to give her a piece of vellum to draw on, but she prefers the floor.

Like mother, like daughter. It thankfully hasn't been "like father, like daughter." The kingdom would probably say the same. I can't blame them. Who can?

Today feels like it brought Corona together despite our numbers. Rapunzel always had this amazing way of putting things into perspective for people no matter what they were going through or how divided they were. Izzy does, too. I could really feel everyone giving Isolde the same love they gave Rapunzel when she released that first lantern into the sky. When the island and Rugen released theirs, we stood in that moment as one. Everything isn't magically "all better" on the outside or the inside, but for one day, we shared magic together. Remembering the person we loved made all of us feel like we had a reason to live.

And yet I still can't live without her. I'm just sorry that you and Anna aren't here to share her with us.

From Corona,
XVIII of July, 1848
Eugene

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༺ ❅ ༻

If you're reading this, then I know that Blizzard showed you what to do with your candlestick. I hate that I didn't stumble on this spell ages ago, but I didn't have time to ask Grandpabbie for his help, and this magic berry ink won't last me more than two or three letters. Make sure you're alone before you unroll the other pages. After you've read all of them, destroy them.

My Beloved Cousin,

I'm so sorry for not writing back to you sooner, Eugene. I've been in a tight spot lately. Truth be told, I think I put too many irons in the fire and lost my hold on most of them, but I've been listening to your voice on these papers, and what I hear is a very brave king. You made it through Rapunzel's whole birthday without running back to your room and slamming the door on anyone; you felt her sunshine because you withstood the rain. It took me a year to stay for the memorials that Arendelle would have for my parents without running back to my room to cry into Anna's arms at the very end of them, so I'm the type of person who would've told you to come out once you were ready; you found out on your own that you were, and that alone is something to pride yourself on.

I know how much you want your wife back. Anna and I want our cousin back. But if you felt her once, then you'll feel her always, and so will your precious little girl. What you did for Isolde was powerful. You showed her what it meant to not let fear and pain stop you from feeling love again by walking out of that bedroom and reopening your heart to Rapunzel's home.

While we're on the subject of open doors, I would never want you to think that I'd shut you out because you did something wrong. I was upset in the beginning, but I processed your feelings instead of dwelling on mine, which took a lot more time than it should have. I read everything you had to say in April and threw away everything I had to say in return. I spent my mornings trying to get over our different views on what should've been done, but I couldn't express myself with understanding. If I wasn't feeling helpless last March, then I was feeling lost and hysterical that April, so my state of mind added to the storm.

Despite our disagreements, friction would never make me go "MIA" (have I gotten that right?) in the middle of a conversation that wasn't about how you said what to me or how I felt about it. Things like that are completely unimportant to me. Stupidly, I decided it would be better for both of us if I gave you the closure you wanted over paragraphs with my thoughts about your decision. At the time, it just felt like it made more sense to actually address your concerns about Hans and his brothers by doing the homework I said I would. I had hoped to get back to you about these decisions to keep you from worrying, but it's been one thing after another with Prince Aloysius since April.

Fomite fears have been removed from the ban as long as all parties use these sticky gloves that were invented by the West recently, but most of our carrier pigeons weren't reaching their destinations for three months. I'd later learn that these bizarre incidents had to do with Prince Aloysius hiring falconers to hunt the birds that were crossing his kingdom's borders. The nominee I first spoke about using last year fell ill on the dot, which I would also end up linking to Prince Aloysius. I know this outcome probably looked obvious to you from the beginning, but I thought Anna, Kristoff, and myself did everything in our capacity to prepare ourselves for boomerangs by staying one step ahead of him. These roadblocks didn't break our wheels until after I had completed the task I spoke to you about.

The homework I finished and the payoff I was looking for are still unraveling, but everything has almost come to a head. I just have to wait a little while to feel secure enough to tell you about everything that's been happening between Prince Aloysius and I. Because there could be hired muscles in my midst, I already put a lot on the line by asking Fredmund to babysit Blizzard in his quarters of Captain Brøgger's ship. I'll also try to discuss the matter of Isolde and succession as soon as I can. Right now, I have to warn you about what you've been blindsided by:

The letter you mailed on April 1st reached my study later than usual; the last page came on time, but my private secretary didn't find the first page until two days later. What you mailed out on June 1st and July 1st came to me on July 17th. On that same day, copies of pages from all three letters were published in a Southern Isles newspaper that's been circulating around the world. The report, as I know you've already guessed, tried to make it look like you were proposing to me and confessing your jealousy towards Prince Aloysius. As days go by, foreign sojourners dish out more lies that aren't just about "our relationship starting while you were married," but my moralless conscience and your griefless one. Now people won't stop crucifying us; there's even inappropriate artwork of us being printed in the Southern Isles.

This month has been cruel to both of us without you knowing anything about it. On the contrary, you're the one who actually saw it coming before I could stop it. I took to the public dais on more than one occasion to discredit the newsreels and set the record straight, hoping to turn their investments toward the Bovi Fever in Corona. My press conferences couldn't convince everyone of our innocent intentions, but I reached who was willing to listen. I don't think you'd believe me all that much if I told you my "sentimental clarifications" persuaded an entire booth of slanderers to change tune.

People now say that we should be together because I'm the "only option Queen Rapunzel would lovingly approve of," and "Queen Elsa's efforts deserve to be rewarded by King Eugene's indentured servitude." Most are bringing up the Oath of Ruth to endorse our nonexistent wedding. I bet you're thinking all of this sounds like one big nightmare, and it is; I feel violated. The only good news is that the prince's meddling left breadcrumb trails at my study door. It's just that uncovering tangible evidence of his entanglement has been easier said than done.

I did have the now incarcerated journalist who made the first article interrogated to see if he could help me. He said the pages of June 1st and July 1st that I received were the only ones he saw, while the first page of April 1st was all he had touched of that delivery. I had determined that one of my private secretary's assistants was his supplier after the copies were published, yet I was positive that the puppeteer who threatened him was Aloysius. He was reluctant to admit that he had a handler, but I felt it was because he was more afraid of what Aloysius would do to him than anything else. He claimed that he chose not to send the last page of April 1st to the papers because he didn't want to bring you "an even hotter life sentence" by exposing your accusations against the Southern Isles.

Aloysius hasn't left any trails that would suggest he read the last page of April 1st. At the most, you'd think he would have retaliated against me after your mentions of "what I'm planning to do" with him, but he interpreted the accusation differently. He hasn't just convinced himself that you're my admirer, Eugene. His possessiveness has reached the toxic levels you warned me about. By that, I mean he thinks you were telling me to leave him for you.

It sounds unbelievable on paper, but if you saw what our relationship has turned into over the months, you'd say it sounded just about right. I don't really know if I've created a genuinely lovesick fiancé by insincerely bonding with him or if I'm playing chess with a pseudo-Hans, but I won't be turning my back on him for a second. After today, the only person Blizzard will be bringing your letters to is me. This is where I have to leave you again for a little while, Eugene. I don't want to, but I'm out of time.

I am happy that you, Isolde, and Corona shared such an unforgettable adventure on Rapunzel's birthday. I wish we could've shared it with you, too. Just to let you know: I felt her, too. We'll always feel her.

In closing, I put together a volunteer plan for Corona that you'll benefit from. It's my way of saying I haven't lost faith in Corona at all. If you would be so kind, please wait for me to send you another letter and better line of communication before you try to smuggle a reply. In the meantime, don't be concerned about us. We really are and really will be fine, and so will you.

I promise.

From Arendelle,
XXIX of July, 1846
Yours truly,
Elsa

P.S. Anna didn't get your trinket, but neither of us would be opposed to homemade sweets next year.

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Dear Eugene,

How is Corona fairing in your eyes? I've been thinking about you every day, wondering if my volunteer project did you any good. I'd greatly appreciate it if you would let me know how it all turned out after all of this sneaking around is over and done with; if it made no impact whatsoever, then be honest with me and say that. I can always do more to make the operation better. Petitioning against this travel ban has been even harder than it was before, but I don't plan on backing down or bowing out just like you don't; restrictions are loosening up, just not for me.

I'll be focusing on your statements about Isolde in another letter because I still have to make the time, but I want you to write back to me after August 30th. Tonight, I'll be sending you a type of logbook that touches on my developments with Prince Aloysius. I'm going to write everything I can as thoroughly as I can, so please bookmark any pages you can't finish:

I spent June in the Southern Isles. Going to the kingdom sounds like a gamble - I'm not denying that - but back then, I was sure that I knew what King Ragnar's A plan was, so I told myself that I had no reason to be afraid. I also had no choice in the matter. Even supposing that I did think the brothers were dumb enough to abandon their first plan for a takeover, the visit was irremissible. I was obligated by vote and protocol to spend a month with my "soon-to-be-husband" in his own kingdom.

Before the trip, I learned from King Kasimir that Prince Hans was quietly released by King Ragnar in January to live in exile on a cay. The idea of him being a sailboat away was . . .. unnerving, to say the least, but interaction would've been impossible, so I took comfort in the thought of him floundering about a secluded island without the freedom to leave. I needed proof, however. I needed to know that King Ragnar wasn't lying. I received my proof when I was rowed there by King Ragnar, King Kasimir, Prince Aloysius, and my convoy.

I don't think I was ready for what I saw once I stepped foot on the cay's labor fields, which didn't run all that differently from the prison farm Hans worked on before his release. King Ragnar's parliament apparently made this program for "special ex-convicts," so Hans and a dozen others make their living off agriculture and quarrying under his aegis. Fed rotten corn for breakfast, lunch, and maybe even dinner, most of them had missing teeth, but all of them had black gums, bandaged hands, and thin bodies. Apart from the conditions of the field being unhygienic and unbreathable, I saw signs of young overseers beating old men like slaves whenever they could get away with it. I interjected at one point, which cut our tour short.

Not too long after that, King Kasimir pulled me aside to tell me how impressive King Ragnar and Prince Aloysius thought I was "for a woman." The last thing I wanted to do was impress them. To tell you the truth, I would've preferred anger over admiration. I had a hard time tolerating their amusement while I watched Hans and the workers try to make it through the twelve hours that lied ahead of them. King Kasimir didn't look like he wanted to be there, but King Ragnar seemed to be watching the scene play out like it was something to be proud of.

Prince Hans never saw me. I made sure of that, but if only you could see him for yourself, Eugene. I'd be surprised if he had any strength left in his hand to hold a pen or paper. I'm not saying that his incarceration is uncalled for, but I don't know if conditions like these, ones that serve no emotional or psychological rehabilitation, are teaching him the lesson he needs to learn. I don't think torture teaches anyone the lessons they need to learn; it just teaches them nihilism, cruelty, and more mixed messages about what justice means.

King Ragnar asked me about my thoughts on his "reformation" of Hans at dinner. I told him the exact same thing I'm telling you now. He doesn't want an adjusted brother; he wants a soulless puppet. As diplomatically as possible, I added that the repercussions for trying to break Hans will only affect me, you, and anyone else he blames for his new cage. The king was surprisingly respectful of my point of view, but we still disagreed.

I indirectly brought up Hans's public slams against you to explain what I meant. Though I didn't say it outright, I asked questions about Hans's pastimes and what he did in that bothy of his on the cay. He allegedly wrote short prose in the beginning, so King Ragnar doesn't know who was sending your scandals to the media outlets. I didn't buy either story, but I had to leave it alone for the afternoon. We talked about my relationship with you for the rest of the evening; Prince Aloysius was a less poised piece of work by that point, but what else is new?

Whether or not I knew some things about the prince's history is unimportant now; what I can say is that your version gives him far more credit than what he deserves. Indecent as he is, his Achilles’ heel is still women. His real fixation, however, is the "unknown." He's infatuated with witchcraft novels and cheap books about magic potions, so his dealings with me were comparable to fanaticism. There was a love letter served on a tray before every breakfast, rose bouquets sent to my room every afternoon, and poems spoken to me in the royal garden on several occasions.

That kind of attention isn't something I'm used to, so I feel bad about admitting that it did throw me off a little. I've never seen a man get down on his knees to kiss my hands and tell me "what a rare, perfect, and beautiful monument of a woman" I am because of my powers. I've never been called "flawless" so many times (or any time) in my lifetime by a regular person; it was horrifying and demobilizing after years of hearing the exact opposite. It didn't make me feel attracted to him or anything of that shallow nature, but I almost didn't turn my head in time when he stood up to kiss me. The limbo I fell into made me realize that any person who defines me by my powers is a person I can never satisfy; worshiping me doesn't count as seeing me at all, and I want my humanity to be seen, not ignored (I'd rather be told that it's okay for me to be imperfect, if I'm being completely honest with you).

After I realized that, I was able to put his favor to better use. The month was full of balls and foreign ambassadors giving their blessings to our marriage, but when we were alone, we bonded in his eyes. He thinks women are too pretty to be smart, so I played the part of a shy, unprejudiced, and understanding fiancee without acting so out of character that he suspected a hoax. He began to entrust me with some of his deeper feelings about the dynamics in his family by insisting that he was the misunderstood and unpopular brother because the public called him the least attractive. I was honest when I said that the surface shouldn't determine the value of someone's worth, and I suppose that made him feel precious for a moment.

Anna, who was supposed to keep an eye on Arendelle while I was gone, took it upon herself to pop up unannounced the following morning. I tried to send her back, but it's hard making a grown woman do anything she doesn't want to do. I keep forgetting that she isn't five or eighteen anymore. She clearly has her own way of reminding me, but I wish she could've done it without beaching a schooner on the shore of a paranoid kingdom. The upside is that two sisters just so happen to make better detectives than one.

To shed some light on my purpose, I wasn't just looking for proof of the family's involvement in Corona's Bovi Fever. I was looking for evidence of two genocide plans, and maybe even an overlooked correlation between both. I had been tipped off in March by Queen Malmö that the Regeringen disguised their extermination of the Kiribas as tension between natives and foreigners. According to her, they were actually training militia and squads to eliminate the latter; Queen Malmö also suspected Prince Aloysius of hate crimes in the form of "extrajudicial punishments, unjust imprisonments, and ethnic cleansing." Proving something so "systematically choreographed" to the Storting and the world had its bottlenecks, but I was in too deep to backtrack.

On the upside of our investigation, Anna gained the friendship of two Kiriba servants, and I managed to speak to three Freedom Fighters from the kingdom's lower archipelagos. We formed a little network of intelligencers who were willing to confide in us, which helped a lot. I don't know if you care to hear about all of it, but it's important for you to know that the Kiribas are the ones aboard the kingdom's trade ships; that includes cargo ordered by livestock breeders. Now, remember when you told me that you felt like the Southern Isles dropped off sick livestock in Corona on purpose? You also mentioned something about their carriers either incubating the virus or the kingdom itself taking precautionary measures to keep their people safe.

Well, a widow told me that there was a case not too long ago about three livestock ships being burned in a cove after their return from the sea. The courts ruled that it was an accident and, for the most part, kept the trial out of the mainstream eye; Kiribas feel like the militia did it because the minorities aboard were "sacrifices." I have yet to get a straight answer from anyone about what they mean by sacrifices, but I think you and I both have the same idea. I just can't confirm or prove it beyond gossip. Stories keep changing from person to person, and no one knows any names or eyewitnesses who are willing to come forward.

What I did finally get a hold of were Prince Aloysius's receipts and letters to the Regeringen's squads.

From Arendelle,
XIII of August, 1848
Hoping that you're sleeping safely,
Elsa

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Dear Elsa,

I haven't seen Blizzard in a long time. Our phenomenal career choices have obviously made us both overworked, but I recall that the rainstorms in mid-September are too strong in Arendelle for pigeons to make it here safely. Nordic winters are coming pretty soon, and with us having no sure way of talking to each other until next year, I thought it was odd that you wouldn't try to reply; it isn't like you at all. Though I'm probably making a mountain out of a molehill since you could already be in the process of sending something while I'm sending this right now.

That isn't the only reason why I'm writing to you tonight. I thought you should know about what I dug up a couple of days ago in relation to my old messenger, Bogohardt. Do you remember when you told me last year about a story of him being in Hohendorf? It's come to light that it wasn't inaccurate. I guess both of us have had a sense for sniffing out each other's conspirators.

Since our human postal service isn't in service anymore, Bogohardt's been volunteering in Rugen. Last week, there was a letter of confessions that he wanted his wife to write for him. Part of that list was sent to me by her. In it, he talks about a cabal he was affiliated with. Its members called themselves the "Resistance," and they were a group of countryside villagers who weren't pleased by my stance as the current monarch of Corona. They weren't too fond of you, either; one of their biggest fears was that you'd seek out Rapunzel's throne because you're the one with blood ties to Corona.

From what I read, Bogohardt claims in his letter that he was forced to be their messenger before the Bovi Fever changed all that. He'd show them your letters every now and then, but things got to a point where he grew tired of the guilt, so they attacked him in Hohendorf after he said your January 10th letter would be the last one. I don't know why he didn't tell me about all of this sooner. He must've thought I was the type of king who'd execute him for coming clean like an honest man. He deliberately went missing before his wife delivered the letter; this situation mirrors the one you had with your secretary's assistant, so my guess is that the Resistance and the Southern Isles were allies.

I couldn't get too much info about the actual cabal. I can say that the witnesses my men interviewed last year were either members themselves or covering up for them to save their own lives, which I don't blame them for. Too many people have died in Hohendorf, and I haven't been given any reason to suspect that the people in the cabal survived. Even if they did, we're all too concerned with squirreling away what we can and healing who we can to be wasting our energy on secret societies, so they know now that the Southern Isles wasn't planning on saving them from the Bovi Fever. Not everyone here likes me, clearly, but at least everyone here knows survival and unity come first.

We're overeating fish from Corona and Arendelle, but we're not complaining. Miserably, winter is still around the corner, and your food shipments obviously won't be as often or diverse as they used to be. We'll be stocking up on all the Arendellian cuisines you can get to us before the snowfall gets heavy. Isolde reminded me that my birthday is also coming up. For the first time in a long time, I'm not really looking forward to it.

Let me know how your situation with the Kiribas is turning out. I hope I didn't sound heartless when I brought it up. I was just trying to look out for you the way you've been trying to look out for me.

From Corona,
XIX of September, 1848
Sincerely,
Eugene

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To Your Majesty the Queen,

I think I may have scared you with my last letter. I just want to make it clear that I wasn't writing you a goodbye note or some epiphany about surrendering. I wrote what I wrote because, at the time, I suppose I felt like you were the only person who would understand what I was going through. Virtually everything has taken me out of character all year; more flares are popping up on the island because a traitor purposely brought infected meat into the kingdom. I'm going to take a wild guess and say that things probably aren't going according to your plans right about now, either... . especially with this.. .."us" thing that we've been trying to make work for the sake of our political relations.

I did ask the captain to tell me how you were again, and he assured me that you were okay. Then I noticed that Fredmund was working aboard as a full-fledged first mate. He told me your snowgies have been rebelling against your homing spell lately. He also said your council is trying to marry you off to a powerful trade partner, that you're traveling between other nations due to the Kiribat situation, that you're also still trying to get your allies on my side, and something about you smelling like lavender. I'm certain that you already remember what my thoughts were about some of the above (minus the lavender part; I've never taken a whiff of your personal scent and have no intention of doing so whatsoever, though I'm sure it's lovely), but what I will repeat and continue to repeat is this: please stop doing that. It drives me nuts about you.

Please don't keep trying to redeem me in the eyes of everyone else with that notoriously unbending perseverance of yours. Please, please don't spend any more of your energy on gossipers you can't convince. I'm never going to be the perfect king, widower, or person to anyone as long as I sit where I'm sitting. Your endearing habit of never listening to what anyone tells you unfortunately isn't endearing enough to change that. Chatho and Zaria are still helping us with inoculations, so you've at least succeeded with two kingdoms.

You and I are also probably never going to live this ridiculous "love scandal" down for as long as we keep pen-palling...or as long as I keep using basic adjectives like "endearing." But, if it would do our reputations any good in the grand scheme of things, I can do what I should have done from the beginning and write to you in a less "personal" fashion: no colloquialisms, no colorful catchphrases, no punchlines, and no intimate conversations...just business and diplomacy. I can try to change and talk like an actual king is supposed to, which is better than me being me if I plan on wearing Frederic's crown to the very end. That way, if anything ever did fall into the wrong hands again, they can't use it as another "crime" to wave in our faces. Whichever way you slice it, I almost can't believe it's gotten to this point.

Even I have to stop and ask myself, "Is this okay...?" because of everything that's happened. I've honestly been waiting for you to police me a little here, which you're free to do. Getting intimate with you was never part of the plan.

From Corona,
I of April, 1849
King Eugene

P.S. Happy birthday. I hope you and your sister still managed to have a frostmazing time.

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To My Beloved Cousin,

I like the way you write to me. I like your colloquialisms, catchphrases, and punchlines no matter how "frustrating" they can be at times. Those charming quirks are important parts of your self-expression, and you shouldn't try to change that to fit a standard set by people who don't care about you. I used to say that there was no right way to be a king or queen except to put our kingdoms before ourselves. You've been doing that since the very beginning to a fault, so now my advice to you is to make yourself a priority.

What I don't like is the way you minimize the impact that pain has had on you while you're hurting. It's okay not to hide behind a joke after something traumatic has happened. It's okay to open your heart. It's okay to say that you can't take it anymore. "It's okay to not be okay."

You make a habit out of writing to me like you're alright after something awful has happened to you, which is something that drives me nuts about you, so we're even on that. You have to let yourself feel, Eugene, and you have to share those feelings with someone. Why would getting intimate not be some part of the plan? Even from a diplomatic standpoint, I need to know about your feelings and experiences in order to get a better understanding of everything I need to do on your behalf. If we pull back now, it would be damaging to both of us.

I've said before that I understand why our relationship will take some getting used to, but I don't want you to back away from me. This "us thing" that we have is a building bond, and I want our progress to be comforting instead of intimidating. What happened last winter is exactly why I want you to always confide in me without holding yourself back. If you hadn't cried while you were writing that letter, I wouldn't have known your mental state.

That's why I have to thank you for sharing such a vulnerable part of yourself with me. It was intense and shocking, but I want to nurture that part of you because it's also been neglected. One thing you must understand is that there is no getting over the passing of those infants just like there is no getting over the passing of Rapunzel. You may not be able to live through this experience without feeling post-traumatic pain. You may always see those crying faces, but you don't have to believe everything your mind tells you when you're alone in your bed.

Before you go to bed every night and after you wake up every morning, I want you to tell yourself that you are worth Frederic's crown; you are trying as hard as you can; you do have the strength to get through this; your existence does matter, and you have always deserved to be loved. Be gentle to that fragile part of yourself that you keep neglecting. You give so much love to those who matter to you, yet it is you who needs your love more than anyone else in the world right now. I just wish I was actually there to shower you with my own, because I also died again after hearing about what happened to you and your children. I wanted to reach through the barrier and hold you close, if I could have .. .. . I wanted to embrace each and every one of you. . ...

I understand that I can't turn back the hands of time, but I badly want to be that person for you and Corona. When I first started writing to you, I told you that Anna and I could stand in these moments with you no matter how far away we were. Now it just sounds meaningless to say, "I'm by your side" when I can't even touch you. I didn't even have time to just sit down and write "Happy Birthday" to you and your daughter because I've been spreading myself so thin for people outside of our family. I took your paragraph about your role in your people's lives as a departure note, one that said you had made the choice to either leave this world or leave your throne. I allowed my emotions to cloud my judgment and let one impulse lead to another. Since the travel ban prevents me from sailing, I chose that month to do the next reckless thing: use my powers.

Using my powers to reach you ended very badly because I landed myself back in bed with my physician treating the consequences. I was forced to lie to my parliament about the cause. I see that Fredmund purposely left that part out. He also gave me some information about your days. You mentioned a scandal with a servant last year, which appears to be frighteningly widespread in Corona.

I don't know if it's true or false because I, for one, am not living in Corona with you. I am also not a man, so I can't say if temptations, especially in an emotionally fragile environment, are hard to resist as a man, given how much you've spoken about your difficulties with women in the past. I've chosen to believe that you are innocent until proven guilty. You didn't sound evasive to me when you brought it up for the simple fact that you did, and several people in Corona seem like they're out to push you over the edge with whatever they can. Add that to the way hecklers are abusing you after everything you've done for Corona, and I'm more concerned about a revolt breaking out than I am about the possibility of another child.

Your country's opinions about your presence as king aren't remotely reasonable, so don't you dare kneel to them. The same people who turned their backs on Corona are the same people who refused to dock in your harbor before these allegations came about. They're the murderers, not you. You have many personal victories to celebrate this year. Try to keep them in mind whenever you start doubting your existence.

For the record, you are Corona's single drop of sunlight. I won't ever stop telling you that, but I also won't sit here and tell you that I don't understand why you're feeling the way you feel. I won't tell you that your feelings are invalid, either. People weren't just attacking me in the past because I had magic; I really was the cause of everything that went wrong, so I thought that if I'd stepped down from my throne, everyone's lives would've been better. I learned too late that giving it up only makes things worse by opening a door to havoc, so I had to go back and fix my mistakes.

Like Arendelle was for me, Corona is your destiny now, so wherever you run, you can never fully escape it. Foreigners know that. They dread that. However, your sanity has to come first. The dangers that both you and your daughter have to face are not just physical threats anymore.

On those grounds, I need you to tell me what your next move will be. Even though I feel like your letter is whitewashing the fact that abdication may or may not still be on your mind, I won't make you feel bad about it. It's not my place. I'll support you either way. I just want to know what your long-term plans are.

Are you thinking about reconsidering my offer to have one or both of you live with Anna and I? Are you going to keep going as you are? Or are you going to consider other possibilities outside of abdication? I think it's wonderful that you have so much faith in Isolde's future. Seeing and striving for the best for your daughter is exactly what a father is meant to do, but there's still a very big chance that she'll always have health difficulties.

Before I end my letter, I should add that I read what you had to say about my trip to the Southern Isles, Hans's family, the Kiribas, and my feelings towards Prince Aloysius. I respect your opinions even if I disagree with many of them; some, however, are correct.

I can't report any new developments or reply to every single detail in your earlier letters at this point in time, but one thing I couldn't wait to thank you for was your kind speech regarding my powers. I now understand why Rapunzel fell in love with you.

From Arendelle,
XII of April, 1849
With love,
Elsa

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To Your Majesty the Queen,

We've always been even when it comes down to driving each other nuts in the habit department. I'm really not trying to make a habit out of giving you what you think is a sprightly facade, but as I've said once before, I have my coping mechanisms and you have yours. Right alongside the quirks you do like, some ways that I express myself are not always done on purpose or to exclude you. I hope I can apply the same explanation to you.

I asked you critical questions in September that I still haven't received any answers to. I find that hard to shelve. To put it politely, it seems like because I brought up an uncomfortable possibility about Aloysius Westergaard, you pulled back from laying out your own activities and feelings. Are your feelings towards Aloysius what I was right about, or are those feelings only a small part of it? Because right now, I'm starting to believe that you're communicating with him and the brothers after I specifically told you not to; if I'm wrong, then please don't keep giving me a reason to think I'm right.

I didn't mean to say that getting intimate with you wasn't part of the plan. It's just that I wasn't anticipating how intimate it would get, and I didn't really realize how intimate it was getting until it had already gotten there. "Family" is both a noun and a verb that I've always had to get used to labeling people under. With us, I was starting to fall back into the dynamics of what family felt like before I had actually given myself a moment to get acclimated to the speed — no thanks to your kindness and matriarchal charms, which I revere more than you revere my catchphrases. You've been doing everything you can to make sure I see you as my family and not an acquaintance who never had any particular inclination towards me outside of cordiality.

We've waltzed around one another without actually knowing each other until this tragedy forced us to become a family. Under these circumstances, I've grown to like and respect you, and not just as an acquaintance, ally, or some distant relative I write to, but as a person, and that's going to take more getting used to. But would you and I have the communication we have right now if none of this ever happened? Is this unconditional or conditional? The point is, please give me some time to come around without getting cold feet.

Keeping feelings pent up isn't the best thing to do, but there are going to be moments where I feel like I've already broken down to you more times than I'm okay with. Your advice is always wise, so I'm not on the fence about your wisdom. I value what you have to say, and I'm not on the fence about that, either. I don't need you to be anyone for me, though. Like I said before, you've been plenty.

It's not your fault that you can't be here; nor is it a bad thing. A hug would be great right about now, but sometimes I can feel you through your letters. When I do, you're one of the most soothing things I've ever felt; I honestly don't feel as alienated or unfit when you lecture me and open up about your own trials or errors. I know someone who's actually willing to listen to me has gone through something similar and had no choice but to come out stronger because of it. I feel like in time I can look to you for balance and peace of mind, which is a scary amount of trust to think about placing in anyone outside of my own wife.

But now that you've reestablished what it is you want from me, the only thing I want consistently from you is the same thing. Nevermind what Fredmund purposely left out; you're leaving out more than your fair share. Almost eight months have gone by and you wrote one paragraph about everything that's happened in between that time, most of which was exhaustingly ambiguous and bowdlerized. Aren't you cheating me out of a deal here? You're being hypocritical again without effort, so I'm not in the best mind to read about what you want me to express.

I could deal with last winter's episode better by breaking down on paper in a more consistent pattern to say what you'd prefer to hear how you'd prefer to hear it, but you constantly watering things down on your end of the spectrum doesn't motivate me to open up my floodgates by any stretch of the imagination. You know my reason for holding back, but I never quite know yours every time I spot you doing it. And because I don't know yours, my head is making up a lot of reasons for why you're holding back this time. Don't stiff me, Your Majesty. I don't take well to withholders.

I didn't have a rendezvous with my servant, so the story is false. As of today, I don't know which offer of yours I'm considering anymore, but I won't be abdicating this year. Needing to have children with my wife's cousin to guarantee my security is definitely not in the cards, though. I hope that you continue to recover from the vague aftereffects you suffered. I don't want anything bad happening to you the same way you don't want anything bad happening to me, especially not because of me.

The frequency of my letters is going to dwindle down because my council is redirecting my attention to another woman from another kingdom, so forgive me if I fizzle out. It looks like I have my own Aloysius to deal with.

From Corona,
XX of April, 1849
King Eugene

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Dear Eugene,

As you ask me questions about whether our current relationship is conditional or unconditional, you appear to be implying that you're growing suspicious of my intentions overall. I am not purposely withholding information from you, stiffing you, or cheating you out of a deal. I didn't think it was the right time to redirect the letter to my problems and neither did I have the time to do so. Apart from my slow recovery, my breathing spells and free hours are wearing thin. Please consider the possibility of my constitution having limitations without jumping to conclusions; the fact that you didn't leads me to believe that your skepticism does not entirely stem from my ambiguity or your trust issues.

To expand upon what I was unable to, I disliked you considering the odds of my heart reserving a special place for Aloysius because he deified me. I would never base even the tiniest ounce of favoritism on how much my powers are apotheosized. Contrary to what you believe, my heart isn't fickle. It's only natural that I would hesitate in a situation so alien, but romantic feelings and desperation had nothing to do with such hesitation. Your misguided opinion on this matter is what I disagreed with.

I understand why you have a lack of empathy for Aloysius and the dynamics within his brethren; at the same time, I am very put off by your perspective. I may be sensitive towards his plight, but having compassion is not the same thing as relinquishing the person of all responsibility; it's a level of awareness, not a level of naiveté. I don't necessarily appreciate your tone in your scoldings about "specifically telling me not to" follow my own inclinations. With all due respect, I can very well do what I feel is just. If Aloysius was being threatened to commit atrocious crimes, overlooking this would inconvenience all of us.

What you were right about was my investment in the anti-genocide campaign. The positive aspect is that the Southern Isles has been forced to release its bondage contract on indentured servants. The King of the Kiribat Isles has also finally stepped in to return his people to his kingdom as of last month thanks to international support. His ambassador explained how the kingdom was harassed into consenting to the practice of debt slavery for several generations, but the tension didn't climax until the Late Blight in 1845.

Another thought you were partially accurate about was my motivation to accept Prince Aloysius's proposal. Much of that was for Corona; if you can recall, much of that was also kindled by my desire to keep the peace between our countries until I finally had a political reason to withdraw. Otherwise, my womanhood would have been undermined by all of the men in my council. Unfortunately, the foreign friends I gained in the Southern Isles have also withdrawn from revisiting the rumor about the cove tragedies; the court scandals have failed to surface for the one mole I have left in the kingdom. If Aloysius could be my mole, I would have better luck, but I know that the risks are too high.

Although I haven't answered them, you are correct about Aloysius sending me letters aggressively. I refrained from mentioning these disclosures because you were already experiencing an extreme identity crisis, depression, and anger over Corona's tragedies, so I thought this information wouldn't help. Not too long ago, I opened one of his letters because it was stained with blood. In it, he promised he would reveal the truth about who poisoned you if I agreed to "bless him with my love before he was condemned to a slow death." In other words, he's asking for something I cannot give.

I hope you understand now why I didn't want to add this in my reply to you. His plea read as follows:

"Should you accidentally end me with your kiss, then I shall love you even more. It would be a much more beautiful death than the one my brother has in store for me. Your love for one day is the last comfort he will allow me to have."

I have no intention of giving myself to him. I can't even wrap my head around it. Am I struck by the proof of King Ragnar's despotism, however? Yes, so whatever I choose to do from this moment on will be a choice that I need you to respect and trust. Excluding Hans, King Kasimir has informed me about the psychological chokehold that man has on his brothers, and I have seen the way my ally would avoid speaking in Ragnar's presence.

Prince Hans, on the other hand, has been moved to a less ruthless environment. Instead of making his brother toil on the kingdom's cay like a slave for his own amusement, King Ragnar has confined him to a small shack on an even smaller cay without people or villages anywhere in sight. This level of exile, which Ragnar calls "Hans's graduation gift for good behavior," only allows him to have human contact with the officers who supervise him, the older princes who visit him, and the sailors who bring food to him. King Kasimir urges that the one pastime he has (writing literature) keeps his health in good condition, but the isolation is not going to improve his emotional disconnection from mankind. It'll only worsen it.

What you think is pity for Hans is actually caution. To prevent someone from repeating the same crime, you have to tackle their pathology. If Hans is not properly handled in a way that is mentally healthy, there is no telling what other havoc he could wreak on Corona or Arendelle even from where he resides. He clearly had someone helping him defame you. Maybe the actual writer is one of the older princes; I can't say, but something has to change for the better.

Towards the end of winter, I used my powers to create a ship after I read your note. It was little more than an iceberg in the shape of an unfinished schooner. I've never done that before, so trying to steer it with my magic, which has still been a little iffy since the Bovi Fever, is what landed me in bed with a broken ankle. Royal prerogative makes it so that I can disregard the Storting's travel ban so long as I don't use any funds to travel with, which makes it impossible to use a normal ship or seafaring supplies. My thinking was very short-sighted in that aspect; spending over twenty hours at sea without the latter would've been absurd, and the Storying still would've pushed back against me in other ways.

Had I realized that you'd react this strongly, I would've put off the letter to explain that episode in greater detail when I found more time. I was just so eager to write to you and send something that I decided to save it for another letter instead. I don't want to be a hypocrite, but in all seriousness, even I'm getting to a point where I feel like it's almost wrong to talk about my end. My issues here feel too insignificant to mention compared to your issues there. Therefore, I feel selfish bringing it up; I guess I fall victim to the same fears that keep you from inviting me into all of your affairs, and for that, I do apologize.

To hear you say that I'm beginning to find a place in your heart is all I've ever wanted, but I don't think I've ever truly given you a reason to second guess the authenticity of our relationship to the point where you're also second guessing the placement you're giving me. Heartfelt as they are, some of your compliments are written like disclaimers. I feel as though your real feelings only show near the end of the letter; the rest is sending mixed messages while derailing most.

Your fear is justifiable because I know about the world you come from, but your doubt does hurt me regardless of whether we think it's justified or unjustified. I've always wanted to get to know you before all of this happened. By marrying into the very small part of the family I had left, you automatically became an extension of the most important thing in my life, but I was under the impression for many years that you were indifferent towards me. I'm at fault for keeping an emotional distance in response because I should've reached out to you ages ago without using Rapunzel as that bridge. It is possible that our relationship wouldn't have happened without this tragedy, but my love is unconditional.

I think I've done everything that is currently within my power to prove that to you, and I've alluded to wanting to make up for the moments we never shared together. I can only take your word for it when you say you didn't entertain your ewerer. I just hope you aren't entertaining vulnerable or miserable maidens in Corona at all. It'll inevitably lead to more character defamation. At best, it'll lead to confusion on both sides; sometimes when women, and I suppose even men, are at their lowest, they confuse compassion and desperation with true love.

I take it that you misunderstood my last lines about Isolde. It's not that I think she won't grow up to become a healthy young princess. With you as her father, she'll only grow stronger. I was just presenting the alternative to make sure that you were aware of it before you answered. Again, this is only a distant notion, not a forward proposal.

Based on your closing, your parliament is just as overbearing as mine. I hope you end up finding some common ground with your mystery suitress instead.

From Arendelle,
I of May, 1849
Elsa

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To Your Majesty the King,

Beloved cousin, in my faith that Vice Admiral Oslo has delivered this message safely, I beseech you to choose whatever punishment you see fit for me due to my failure to protect my family. The people of Corona were mine to shelter and love as if they were my very own, yet I have broken the one promise I said I could keep unless I had been taken off the Earth. Because I can never forgive myself, I will not beg you to forgive me. I am ordering my men to remain by your side until justice has been served. Offers had been made to Prince Aloysius months ago so that he would feel compelled to expose Ragnar, but by the time he warned me about that monster's invasion, I was too late.

The Storting still forbids me from seeing you even though our navy is now exempt from the travel ban. I am working to abolish these restrictions and send for you if I cannot be with you in Corona. Admiral Oslo tried to console me and Anna by saying that you, Isolde, and your port citizens are safe, but we need to hear your voice on paper. I need to hear your voice.

I know I can't bring back the lives that were ripped away from you, but I pray that Rapunzel will punish me on the other side if ever I allow harm to come to you or Isolde. For as it is Arendelle's obligation to protect Corona from bane, it is my duty to devote my love and life to you, and thus I will stand in this indentureship until I have no life left to live.

From Arendelle,
XXV of December, 1849
Your Majesty's most loyal subject, who has been from the beginning, and will be to her end,
Queen Elsa

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To My Savioress,

I can tell by your vocabulary that you're afraid to speak your heart naturally. You don't have to write some script in order to gracefully condense your emotions or beg me to see your heart for what it really is because there aren't enough words in the English language to describe how fortunate I am to have you in my life. Without you, Elsa, I don't know where we would be right now. I almost lost what little bit of strength I had left after Ragnar's first attack. I had it in my mind that there was no possible way that I would be able to keep our defenses up for another day; I was just about ready to drop my sword and offer my life so that my daughter could live hers, but then I saw your crocus flag flickering in the wind, and I couldn't get off my knees fast enough to run over to who I thought was you standing on my pier.

To my surprise, it wasn't you at all; the person waiting for me at the end of the dock was your admiral. I don't want you to think I was any less grateful or relieved. It's just that I had been really hoping, after everything we've been through, that the very first person to run up to me on that pier would be you. You are, as of right now, the one and only political subject I have whom I can rely on and confide in, and what I desperately needed right then was your shoulder. I still do.

I discovered during the interlude of this invasion that the Southern Isles had recruited executive allies in Corona after Rapunzel's passing. The High Councillor of the People's Council is the traitor who planted Arsena under Ragnar's instructions. You were right all along about that serpent using King Kasimir, Sigfus Söderman, and everyone else as carrots to throw me off his rotten scent. I'm still ambivalent to say that Kasimir and the rest of the Westergaards were forced to participate, but that's only because the High Councillor's confession, which was horribly overacted, tried to make it seem like he complied with Ragnar out of fear for his life and not to secure ill-gotten gain. The man only exposed his tweaked version of the truth because Ragnar had exposed him in my meeting with him, which I promise to explain later on in greater detail. I just want to say right now that I'm sorry for waffling on my faith in you and hurting you in the process; I truly, truly am, Elsa.

High Councillor Krämer fraternizing with Ragnar under the assumption that he was doing what was best for Corona's future is precisely why my trust issues are getting worse. He was keeping Ragnar updated on our "progress" (I.E. decline), purchasing personal goods from his traders, and blackmailing our own legislators into grooming his plans, so this invasion was scheduled. I knew that either one or all of the Westergaards were behind the Bovi Fever, but never in a million years did I think they would actually try to sail here due to the rampancy of the fever. After we started to decrease the number of infected Coronans with your help, I can only guess that Krämer informed them about that, too. I should've seen the signs earlier, and I hate myself for not seeing them earlier.

Ever since I rejected Fatima last fall, things only got worse in Rugen under government administration — or to put it more accurately, Krämer's thumb. The government neglected ensuring that Arendelle's food was being proportionally rationed between Corona's capital and Rugen, which I had no knowledge of until I arrived in Rugen myself at the end of September. Massive groups of smallholders were also being pushed out onto the streets by their landlords, resulting in an outrageous growth of brigandage, homelessness, and malnutrition-induced diseases; their percentages were heavily downplayed in my official records by personnel Krämer had strong-armed. To rub even more salt in the wound, Rugen's meal centers and poor shelters were shut down in autumn. The excuse, which I had reluctantly bowed my head to, was that it would lower expenses and fever circulation even though food and estate would've been more affordable for the poor if our prices weren't so astronomically high compared to what they earn.

To compensate for it, I introduced your first famine reliever (retrenchment) and higher wage plans, but my ideas kept getting shelved, shunned, and rallied against by the nobles in my kingdom. Every decision I put on the table seemed to get trashed before anyone had time to digest them. The only listener who ever took my concerns seriously was you. The majority of my advisers have been determined to think that I'll mess up and destroy Corona more than I already have, so my whole autumn was spent under the parliament's "house arrest," which consisted of Krämer undermining my powers to magnify the ones that belong to the People's Council.

Then December came, which is the month when Corona is always at its weakest. Hohendorf Bay coast guards were seized by Ragnar's stealth fleets in the middle of the night without putting up a fight. Whoever knew about his frigates sitting in Hohendorf's cove was most likely removed on the spot. I was only made aware of the danger at sunrise after the cocky gremlin sent a terrified orphan to the capital with a letter of salutations. Instead of hurting villagers, he requested that I meet with him privately on his ship by midnight; if I refused, "then Rugen’s soil will turn red." I was left with no choice but to comply, so I took the risk and rode alone.

It's hard not to be able to explain to your children how the world works when terrible things happen. I haven't explained to Isolde why her mother isn't here to kiss her goodnight, and I wasn't able to explain to her that night why her old man might not be coming back home to kiss her good morning. I could only read a bedtime story to her about Rapunzel. I told her about her Arendellian family, how nice Arendelle was during the summer, and how nicely you ladies would treat her when she got there. She must've seen through the smokescreen because she wasn't too pleased with what I was saying, but I wanted to keep her as carefree as I possibly could before I sang her to sleep.

I have walked over a thousand lonely roads in my lifetime, but the road to Hohendorf was the loneliest road I've ever had to face. I won't say I didn't pray for your ice fleet to appear over that starless horizon with every breath I took. I wanted to see you manifest so badly that I thought I saw you standing on the bridge in some gown like you had actually materialized from the snow. I don't exactly remember the color or the gown, but from where I was standing, it sparkled like rime at sunrise. It was one of the most beautiful things I’ve ever laid eyes on.. . .. .

I left Pegasus's side just to run over and do who knows what. When I got there, you looked me right in the eye, and I just... . .

Well, the details aren't really all that important; all I know is that there was far too much feeling in your eyes for that to have been a hallucination to me at the time, so I didn't come back down to Earth until the last minute. I finally realized that I was losing my mind after one blink replaced your face with Rapunzel's. The second blink removed the vision entirely, qualifying the whole experience as a prelude to my nervous breakdown. Somehow, though, it felt real. I'm having a hard time saying that I completely imagined it, but whether the whole experience was paranormal or psychological, I didn't linger on it; I swallowed my feelings and kept going.

When I reached Ragnar's frigate, he and his guards were horrifyingly polite. Violence isn't in my chromosomes, but the thought of getting my hands on him right then and there almost prevented me from maintaining my composure as he sat across from me asking whether I liked ginger or honey in my tea. The only thing that stopped me from doing what I wanted to do was my better judgment. If I had gotten rid of him, I would've been ending my life even sooner than need be, so I opted to listen to what terms he wanted to negotiate. Besides exposing Krämer and the Kiribat tragedy, this snake openly told me that he planned on sparing Arendelle's volunteers over Corona's children, reducing Corona to a puppet state, burning the infectees, "matching" the young Coronan girls with his men to "promote multiculturalism," and shipping a portion of indentured servants from Corona to the Southern Isles.

I immediately blacked out and went in for the jugular, but he got to my neck much faster than I could get to his. Two of his men hit me, kicked me, and then pinned me against the wall. Ragnar pressed his sword against my throat and repeated his sick plans. I'm going to leave out what he whispered about you for your own sake and just say that it wasn't anything you should want to hear. It's definitely enough to make my blood boil just by thinking about it.

I was lucky enough to be thrown off the ship with a cut on my face and nothing else. In the aftermath, he made his terms clear: either I cede Corona to the Southern Isles or subject Rugen to erasure. I had until sundown to make my decision. There was also a resource he mentioned in the middle of all that ranting — something he wanted to extract from either the ground underneath Corona Castle or the old mines in Rugen — but I was too banged up by that point to hear all of it. I could barely breathe because I was so terrified.

Some of my old pub pals helped me get back to the island when I couldn't make it beyond the Snuggly Duckling. Once home, I rounded up as many people as I could while Constantine handled Krämer. I didn't want to make this choice for or without Corona, and to my surprise, Corona chose to fight. We spent the daylight hours planning strategies, removing Arendelle's volunteers from the picture, releasing prisoners to expand the battalion, evacuating Rugen villagers to either the island or Gustrow's adits, and hiding Isolde in the castle's panic room. Unfortunately, we couldn't get it all done fast enough; Hohendorf's takedown was put into action before we could blink.

Since Maximus is too old for battle, I stayed on the frontier with Pegasus to take the harder hits for my men. One of our advantages was knowing our way around the forest compared to Ragnar's soldiers, so we did have the element of surprise. Our swordsmen were also better trained, which would explain why they needed Corona's army to be whittled down before they could storm us. I daresay that the snow even gave them a supernaturally tougher time. Ragnar strangely never ordered his soldiers to use their matchlocks on my battalion after they began to have trouble.

I honestly think Ragnar found our determination too amusing to "end us so soon" with firearms, but we tried to do nothing more than physically disable his men without taking their lives. As the conflict began to spread, I found out too late that they had gotten a head start on burning quarantines in Rugen before I ever met up with Ragnar; it was possible that they started when they first docked. Your volunteers were safe, but very few survivors of mine were left behind in their wake. The monster himself never showed his face while all of those camps were being burned until I called him out of his ship. He emerged in his armor to challenge me to a duel.

We fought it out for an entire hour. Although I was the most drained, I got the upper hand because he had no sense of agility. What I didn't do, and absolutely should have done, was end him. What I stupidly chose to do was give him an ultimatum. Ragnar took my kindness for weakness without hesitation, because while he was on his way back home that morning, his admirals surrounded the capital's fleets at midnight.

His frigates did open fire on my castle, so Vice Admiral Oslo may have lied to you in order to keep you from doing exactly what the Storting doesn't want you to do: come to me. I came down with something that I haven't been able to get out of my system due to how overcrowded the capital is right now, and I'm sure they don't want you getting sick. None of Ragnar's allies or brothers ever made an appearance to finish off Corona, but Arendelle showed up immediately after our offense disintegrated, thwarting the possibility of a greater war. Corona's fleets and pirate ships did everything they could to block the frigates before that point. There was only so much that could be done.

My entire castle wasn't destroyed, yet one cannonball managed to bulldoze through the mural tower and kill the children who couldn't get out of the way fast enough, which killed me. That was the moment when I dropped down onto my knees and looked at everything around me. I started looking for my wife in the crowd of screaming faces as a confirmation of my time to go. Instead, I saw a blue snowflake float in front of me before flying away like a feather in the breeze.

Again, maybe I imagined it, but if there's a chance that there was some part of you with me in that snow, then thank you for giving me that much. I have spent most of my healing period with my pillow when I haven't been trying to finish this letter to you. I suppose I have to begrudgingly thank Aloysius at some point, but the only person to thank in my mind right now is you. I finally understand that I can't keep doing this alone. When I say that, I'm not talking about politics, finances, or Corona.

I'm talking about acting like Rapunzel not being here hasn't completely broken every bone in my body. I'm talking about watching people die in my arms. I'm talking about putting on a brave face for those who have given up. I'm talking about raising my daughter to be the strong little woman she's meant to be. I'm talking about being King Eugene of Corona.

Through all this, I never wanted to need anyone as much as I need you right now, but I hope you're willing to let me reintroduce myself to you with a little more integrity this time. I'm well aware that your parliament most likely won't lift their ban on you and Anna, especially not after how badly your powers were affected by the Bovi Fever. I honestly think they're trying to secure their own safety over yours, but I hold nothing against you for not being here in the flesh. I strongly believe you were here in some magical way, at least. Even if I just flat out lost my mind on that bridge, I still appreciate you immensely for allowing your navy to stay here with us.

I didn't think anyone would come at all, but you did. You finally did. And I thank you. I thank you so very much. No matter what happens from this day forward, repaying you is something I will make happen, Elsa.

I owe you my life. There's just one more thing that I'd like to run by you, and then I'll let you rest:

In the event that you and Anna would have to raise my daughter, I need you to understand that Isolde is a very special little girl, and she's very sensitive about being special. If you could teach her to be a confident young woman, then that would mean the world to me.

From Corona,
I of January, 1850
Hopefully still your dearest cousin,
Eugene

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To My Unnecessarily Humble Savioress,

I accidentally dropped some water on the table after I put your letter down, so the bottom got soaked halfway through. Sorry about that. My hands have some serious shaking palsy symptoms going on these days. I can only respond to the paragraphs I didn't oversaturate:

Isolde doesn't have any special powers apart from her irresistible charm, but she does have insecurities about who she is. When the time comes for you to meet her with or without me, you'll understand what I mean; I don't intend on going before my time, mind you.

"Invincible father" might be a stretch, but I'll take it. Trying to heal me with flattery is a brilliant strategy, Your Majesty, though I'm not going to let you get away with fighting me on whether or not you're a savioress. If I have to accept being called invincible without complaint, then you have to accept being called an amazing woman without putting up a fuss, Little Missy. After all, you put up with me for three years. What woman with a sense of self can even begin to brag about that other than my own wife?

Let's not forget about how long you've stuck by me after everyone else told you to run for the hills. You deserve much more than cursive letters of praise on some piece of paper, Elsa; and I want to give or at least show you that one day. I may not be in a position to thank you the way I would like, but I hold no ill will towards you whatsoever, so you shouldn't hold any towards yourself.

You're on base about how damaging it can be to put up a wall, but the wall is there for a very good reason. I can't throw down the drawbridge for anyone and take risks in my situation. I know you're not an "anyone," but you were someone I still needed to feel out. I've never had people I could count on except for my Rapunzel, her family, and Maximus, and it took years for them to come into my life. I understand now that you do unconditionally have my best interests at heart and I'm sorry for not giving you my all sooner; there's a lot that I need to come clean about once we're finally face-to-face.

You know, you really blow my mind; if you could do that for us, then I could die in peace. I'm not sure who told you we had smallpox, but we don't. Everything else you said is spot-on. What I actually have is a problem involving my sinuses. The herbalists can't put their fingers on it. I was also still recovering from battle, so my immune system hasn't been up to par; it's getting there, though.

Your men are out there working in tandem with mine to get the overcrowding issue regulated. We're relocating some people to the cays beyond the capital and treating patients in segregated centers there. Right now we have to arrange funerals and find a way to rebuild what was demolished. Your people are helping with all of that, so mine wanted me to give you their thanks.

I'm going to lay it on the line: reading what you just wrote infuriates me because it means that my daughter wouldn't be let in even if she could make it, but I don't have enough energy in my body to cry about it. Your parliamentarians are leaving me on a powder keg. Since you and Arendelle are at least willing to support me, I have a better shot at pulling through, but I don't plan on forgiving the Storting in the future. As for finding a way around it, I distinctly recall you losing control of your ice fleet. If teleportation works, then spectacular, but if it has any side effects, don't do it.

Being declared dead in absentia isn't good enough for me; Ragnar could be staking out somewhere for all we know. His brothers alone could wake up one day and decide that they want to stymie Arendelle and Corona. They might regain some allies just because you defended the "criminal crowners," at that. Considering everything I just wrote, I wouldn't get any closer to the remaining brothers than you already have. You don't know how the entire family feels about your intervention and I doubt they'll show you.

I'm more confident about taking another jab at my council. Speaking of Krämer, I decided to have him sentenced to life in prison. My council wanted me to hang him, but I don't have the heart for it. They're afraid that he'll find a way to escape, but I'm not. I feel that I made the right choice.

You made a fair point about Isolde. I should've thought about that before I left, especially considering how smart she is. Right now, she hasn't had a moment to let everything soak in because her ear has been hurting her since the sixth. She's had one or two cases of this before, but this is the worst it's ever been. Dr. Ingul and Dr. Waldus are treating it with oil drops and warm towels. It's getting better as time goes on, but there's some discharge; I'm just hoping that her canal will be okay after this is over.

So then, it was you. I knew it. I knew I wasn't losing my mind. It's even more astounding to think that I actually played a part in your magic somehow. Sadly, I don't know any more about the vision that popped into your head than you do, but it definitely sounds to me like you saw the Magic Golden Flower.

Now that I think about it, maybe it happened because your powers were somehow picking up on the metaphysical sediments of old magic. Not necessarily sediments in me, but traces of the memory in my soul and body. I really don't see why or how I could still hold the Magic Golden Flower. In any case, your snow bees would be more than welcome to fly into my window for a second reunion. It's the closest I might come to speaking to you directly, but I don't recommend meditating for hours on end just to accomplish this.

Trust me, you helped. We didn't need a second more to surprise Ragnar and turn the battle into our favor. Your whiteout did a terrific job. I've never been a fan of the winter, but I'm a devout kowtower now. Some of my soldiers have converted to Elsa-anity. Learn to give yourself credit where credit is due, because as I said before, you are one amazing woman.

From Corona,
VIII of January, 1850
Eugene

Chapter Text

To My Dearest Cousin,

Were you saying "shaking palsy" as a joke or are you really experiencing symptoms? Don't play with me like that if you're saying it as a joke; you know I don't like staying up all night worrying about you more than I already do. You should have your secretary write to me if you don't have any business leafing through letters. Sitting in one place for a long time won't help the cramps or stiff joints you have, so summon a masque to rub out your sore spots. For the sake of both of us, please be kinder to your body, Eugene.

"After all, you put up with me for three years. What woman with a sense of self can even begin to brag about that other than my own wife?" I suppose not very many. If it makes you happy, I'll accept your sweet talk without complaint. Your statement about "coming clean" worries me a little, however. I'm curious about your meaning, but I want you to take your time with getting off whatever it is you have to get off your chest.

Right now is a period for recovery and rehabilitation. Repentance can open up a whole new door of stress if, by some chance, I don't take it well or my response offends you. Focus on Corona and healing yourself first. Arendelle can by all means take charge of your housing and feeding belt in the meantime. I've already drawn up my own blueprints for what kind of centers I'd like to build.

Geometry and Architecture History were my favorite subjects as a child, so I have some erudition. My chief engineers have helped me with the practicability of the designs. What I will say is that the square feet and locations of your centers didn't look very helpful when I finally saw the blueprints your construction workers were given. Allegedly, their brick walls were also improperly mortared and the iron pillars underneath the floor were brittle enough to collapse in due time. One center was placed on an eroding cliff while another was too close to the quarantines.

You seemed to have had a decent amount of shelters, but not enough space in them. We're going to change that this month after we've taken care of Rugen. It should help the population issue you're dealing with in addition to making sure your buildings don't fall apart. Anything else you need will be written down by your secretary. So far, you have inoculations, border protection, food, builders, and doctors underway, but I understand that the fever is spreading quickly again. 

I'm not as confident as I would prefer to be about the longevity of Arendelle's charity. This was the type of relationship that I didn't want Corona to depend on when we first talked about the famine, but there's no turning back. Arendelle has agreed to support Corona until the kingdom can support itself again. I've agreed to emotionally support you and your daughter for life. We will do all that we can.

Who's treating your sinuses at the moment? Can the Ice Leaf help you or was it destroyed during the invasion? If the answer is yes, then you should be constantly hydrating yourself with nothing but sugar-free liquids in order to thin your mucus. Mixing horseradish with apple cider vinegar and lemon juice will clear your passages. Ginger root with tea and turmeric will also help.

I sent Grandpabbie's tea tree oil to you this morning for Isolde's earache. The yellow dock root packaged next to it is for both of you. I'm hoping that her earache wasn't caused by an upper respiratory inflammation, but if Waldus and Ingul never said it was, then that shouldn't be the case. Have them keep me updated on your recoveries because they haven't written to me in years. How are they managing during all this?

I never expected you to forgive the Storting after the travel ban was enacted. I can't forgive it myself. The members know what I want more than anything, but their fears and my fears are conflictive. At the same time, I still understand why my powers are such a big concern for them. However, it won't hurt me or them to attempt teleportation once you're in better shape and I can at least look you in the eye consciously this time. I just have to watch my stamina levels while I'm attempting it.

I learned exactly one hour ago that Prince Palmar's coronation is being arranged. I don't see a reason for Ragnar to allow such a succession if he is still alive. I'm going to keep my connections open with King Kasimir and Queen Malmö for now. They've told me that Aloysius and Hans are still living as they were before. Evidence of new alliances has yet to surface, but I find the idea doubtable.

In response to the ultimatum letter that I gave the Isles, I have been begged by Prince Palmar to make peace with his family. I'll figure out where his head is and report back to you with what I've gleaned from him. You made the right decision regarding Krämer. Having another man's blood on your hands is possibly even more traumatizing than seeing men fall before you. You don't want that on your conscience; Krämer has nowhere to run, so I doubt he'll try.

Your guess is as good as mine. I'll make time for an in-depth conversation about it with Grandpabbie. I plan on visiting you tomorrow night, so please keep your window open for me. My hand is trembling as I write because I want to get it right this time.

"Learn to give yourself credit where credit is due, because like I said before, you are one amazing woman." Thank you, Eugene. That means a lot to me.

From Arendelle,
X of January, 1850
Love,
Elsa

P.S.  Thanks for still keeping my blanket safe.

Chapter Text

Dear Eugene,

I guess I overestimated how far my snow bees could travel without getting a little sidetracked after their last journey. They followed your servant into your apartments and slipped under your door at midnight, but I was blind to what they were picking up on. I tried again, but the same thing kept happening. I may have too many conflicting thoughts in my head to fully concentrate on keeping the connection clear. I also haven't really been taking proper care of myself to make meditation effective, but I have more important intelligence to impart:

Palmar Westergaard was crowned last week. He swore up and down in his letter to me that he wanted to make up for what his brother did by helping Arendelle repair the damage Ragnar had left behind. Aloysius sent me a letter almost instantly saying that it was a lie. Based on his comments, Palmar was plotting to regain Arendelle's trust, gain access to Corona through charity work, and then assassinate you by setting up an accident. I have my doubts about his credibility because Aloysius is withholding things from me no matter how much he claims to have spies who tell him about what goes on inside the castle, but I know I can't be quick to stonewall him.

Aloysius went on to say that Palmar "has recently accumulated many friends who are in favor of Eugene's regicide." He wouldn't tell me the names of these so-called allies. If anything he said is true, you're in great danger. Using these allies to attack my battalions in Corona would provoke all of Arendelle. Palmar knows that Arendelle's allies aren't under any treaty to help my soldiers if they are attacked for protecting another kingdom outside of the Axis.

This leaves me wondering what the truth is. Does Palmar want to herd Arendelle and Corona into a corner with these "allies" of his or does he just want you gone? Was Corona bait the whole time? Whom can I rely on for the truth? Neither Aloysius nor Kasimir seem to know what Palmar's real motivations are; Kasimir says that he's not even communicating with his brothers anymore.

In the current time frame, I'm doing everything I can behind the scenes to avoid a war with the Southern Isles. I want to keep more households from being destroyed by our causes. I figured that crossing your border was enough to ward off Ragnar's frigates without excessive violence, and it was. Now it feels like even with Arendelle patrolling your borders, the Southern Isles might keep trying to find ways to outperform Prince Hans. Whether Palmar's plan is to avenge Ragnar or repent, I don't know, but I'll find out soon enough.

After all, the Southern Isles isn't too far away from Arendelle. My snow bees should manage just fine. How are you still fairing, Eugene? How are Isolde, Waldus, Ingul, and your "pub pals"? I want to see you all so badly.

Please kiss little Izzy for me and tell her that I love her with all my heart.

From Arendelle,
XVIII of January, 1850
Yours truly,
Elsa

Chapter Text

Dear Elsa,

I am incredibly sorry for getting back to you this late. You've probably been worried sick about us and your gyrfalcon (who happens to be a rather curious choice of messenger bird, I must admit), but we've kept him and ourselves well fed. I'm being forced to make this short because Corona's winter has been beating the skin off my back. Your packages and advice were miracle-workers, but the nonstop funeral ceremonies, village renovations, Bovi fever flares, and council meetings are taking their toll mentally, emotionally, and physically on all of us; I myself am going in and out with common colds, dry coughs, migraines — you name it. I haven't been infected by anything deadly, but my stress levels took my immune barriers back to square one.

It's not like my own subjects have been helping me pull through. My retrenchment proposal still isn't getting past the door of my council room. I get ganged up on every other Monday. All three "councils" (the King's Council, the Council of the Realm, and the People's Council) appear to be confident about depending on you to take care of the country's food and shelter needs, so retrenching isn't on their minds. I keep trying to explain to them why putting so many feet on your shoulders is by far the worst idea they've ever steamrolled, but once again, my suggestions are unpopular with the nobles, and you know how much unpopularity equates trouble for us kings and queens.

On half-decent days, I would go out to Rugen to help our constructors build your mind-blowing visions from the ground up. I'm fully aware that it didn't sound like the smartest thing to do, but I felt like I needed to get out there and show the people that I wasn't hiding in the castle while they were wallowing in Corona's graveyards. I was in mint condition and had plenty of security patrolling the grounds at the time. I stopped picking up hammers after I started getting sick on a regular basis. The people who were getting me sick with colds and whatnot were actually my ministers, not my villagers, so the fresh air seemed to be treating me better than the walls of my own castle. I wish the Ice Leaf was still available, but the monolith's area was set on fire during the invasion.

The only good thing happening to me on a personal level is Isolde's progress. Compared to mine, her health has improved exponentially. I'm not only talking about her earache; I'm talking about her overall. Maybe there's more magic in Pabbie's remedies than we thought, because at the rate she's going, Isolde will be just as healthy as any other little girl. There's nowhere to go from here but up.

With the exception of your last letter, I'm nevertheless alarmed by the fact that you haven't written to me since January. The same goes for "seeing" you. The last time I saw your snow bees was on the ceiling of my bedroom, and that was nights before your letter. I was completely caught off guard, no doubt, especially after they melted on my quilt. I've been pacing my room with bated breath every night since then despite my feelings against this teleportation business.

I don't know whether you know this or not, but I can tell the difference between your blue snowflakes and actual snow, which hasn't fallen in weeks. If, for some reason, you were ever unable to communicate with me, I figured I would at least catch a glimpse of your snow bees at some point in time because you're stubborn to boot. That never happened, so now my instincts are telling me that you're in too deep with these Westergaards. Your admirals haven't confirmed my suspicions, but I can't put the thought out of my mind. I feel like I need to get up and do something to actually help you with whatever it is you need.

I know you started writing on behalf of Anna to shorten my reading time, but shouldn't she be writing on your behalf when you can't? Why haven't I heard from either of you in months? Snowflake, what's really going on? Your silence is bad for my blood pressure levels, remember? I start worrying twice as much about you girls — especially you, Miss I-can-do-everything-by-myself — when you leave me in the dark.

If you really want my opinion on Palmar Westergaard and his bounty hunt for my head, I'm far less afraid of him and these mysterious "allies" than I am of Aloysius. I know you said you don't fully trust Aloysius, but you wrote more about Palmar's motivations from the perspective of Aloysius than you did of your own. Hasn't he already lied about his impending death? How can we skate over the fact that Aloysius's angle is probably the real trap here? This suits his character.

For a case in point, he warned you about Ragnar at the last second. While I'm glad it still got you here, can we stop and ask ourselves what it is he thinks he's getting out of helping you help me, his so-called "love rival"? What reason does he have to care about me and Corona? You? Let's just brood on that for a second: you.

Don't forget that this is still the same man who asked you to share a romantic evening with him because he couldn't do a good deed without getting something from you in return. Not everyone has the little bit of good in them that you're striving to find. Rapunzel had a heart like yours, but even she was brutally betrayed by people who had nothing in them except darkness. You, on the other hand...your motivations seem to be a little different from hers. I think you empathize so strongly with "fallen" individuals because you're trying to prove some kind of point to yourself and everyone else about your own nature, which is literally light years away from Aloysius's.

You, Elsa, are not a monster. Aloysius is at heart. I'm crossing that red line again, but I'm not going to lie to you. I just need you to write back. Then we can deal with these new threats by planning together, not apart.

From Corona,
XIX of March, 1850
Eugene

Chapter Text

To Thy PUSSIANT and BENIGN King of Corona,

I, Baldor Håakonsson, have chosen to reassign myself to the task of reading and responding to your final letter of address on Queen Elsa's behalf. Her Majesty is at present weathering episodic ailments that were caused by poor self-maintenance and paraphysical disorders. Your last two epistles indicate that these relapses can be attributed to her snow bees expending the last of her energy. To calm your spirit, the savioress whom you so esteem has not held audience with personages in five weeks. I must still beseech you to respect the fact that her duties beyond you hamper her ability to write letters with a steady hand.

The hearsay concerning your regicide in connection with the resurgence of the Southern Isles has quieted. King Palmar, however, suspiciously withdrew his offer to assist Arendelle Kingdom in these times of nationwide need. Our taxes are grossly inflated by our enmeshment with warworn Corona, limiting Arendelle's capacity to be supportive without compensation. Fate alone cannot guarantee a future for your kingdom, and to go on as you are would be nocuous to both your reign and our expenditures. The Storting of Arendelle has petitioned to ensure joint futurition in the shape of a proposal that you will read at the foot of this letter.

As of the hour, Her Majesty is in her sister's care, who is also experiencing hardships of her own in relation to the undisclosed likelihood of her barrenness. These odds have gone unaccepted by her optimism, and while they sting her consort's ego in comparison, he hypocritically harbors no special predilection for children. Come what may, their union stunts Arendelle's line of succession. Perhaps Your Majesty's unearthed noble blood allowed Corona to endow you with the erstwhile king's trust assets by virtue of the Crown Matrimonial, but Norden countries thrive on political alliances. Arendelle's constitution restricts our prince and princess to a morganatic arrangement that underlines the unfortunate nothing his name brings to the marriage; therefore, the matter of male preference primogeniture falls to Queen Elsa.

Let it be bellowed without condescension that the affection you hold for Her Majesty is one that has been praised by many at my table. It spumes from your words and colors hers with hues of mirth and verve. Arendelle's grandfathers bless you for loving Her mother so indiscriminately and completely, but now Arendelle must implore you to aid a greater cause. Since there is no duer debt than Your Majesty's promise to compensate Our Mother the Queen, Arendelle has set out to reacquaint you with your proposition. May your love for Corona dictate your answer as Queen Elsa's love for Arendelle had determined hers three years ago.

From Arendelle,
XVIII of May, 1850
The Prime Minister of Arendelle,