Three years had passed since Agnarr and Iduna lost their lives at sea. Elsa had come of age and her people needed a queen. Despite her fear, grief, and isolation Elsa accepted her duty and devoted herself to ruling Arendelle wisely. She still never saw Anna, or hardly anyone, during this time. Nobody knew anything about Agnarr’s mysterious heir. The entire world anticipated her coronation with bated breath. Elsa’s coronation was a great affair. Every citizen of Arendelle could not wait to see the gates opened for the first time in years. Dignitaries and rulers from all over the world including The Duke of Weselton and the 13th Prince of the Southern Isles came to pay their respects to the youngest ruler in Arendelle’s history.
By HM Queen Anna
Her Majesty’s personal column is published exclusively by The AG.
When she visited the palace last weekend, Elsa told me that she’d decided to reconstitute her former “Order of Rime.” You can imagine my excitement at this, so I sent a press release about this to The AG. But even this paper’s journalists, some of who interview me all the time, asked me: “What in the spirits are you talking about?” What was the Order of Rime? Was Elsa suddenly assembling some league of extraordinary gentlemen?
Fair enough – I was too excited and maybe you aren’t sure what I’m yammering on about either. So I thought I’d use my column today to explain myself.
I’m not here to write a history of our kingdom’s knightly honours, but suffice to say that in Viking times, way, way before Arendelle was even called Arendelle, the top jarl would be protected by a kind of comitatus: elite berserkers or lords who would share everything with their commander and commit ritual suicide if he died.
Obviously, this tradition fell out of fashion once nobles got comfortable living in big halls and castles!
Art by Judit Hallet
LONG LIVE “THE SNOW QUEEN” – Elsa, the Snow Queen, Elder of the Diarchy, the Fifth Spirit, Sovereign Protector of Northuldra.
LONG LIVE “THE PEOPLE’S QUEEN” – Anna, Sovereign and Queen of Arendelle, Younger of the Diarchy, commander-in-chief of the Arendellian Grand Army and Fleet, Grandmistress and Appointer of the Order of the Wheat Stalk.
I’ve travelled the world and was a global citizen long before I settled in the peaceful, small kingdom of Arendelle. As a journalist and eventual owner-editor of this paper, I never cared much for the monarchy; I believe in working hard for one’s status and power.
I therefore paid little interest in the royal family until the young daughters, Elsa and Anna, suddenly vanished. They always used to appear in public events with King Agnarr and Queen Iduna. I hired a royal reporter to find out why the palace had gone silent, but neither my journalists nor I ever saw the princesses for 14 years.
Then we learned the true horror: that two girls, now grown women, had been imprisoned by their own father.
It was a courtier who leaked the palace’s rotten secret to my paper. I remember nearly destroying the office in a rage at having been misled for over ten years at the princesses’ fates. I was even more infuriated when the palace placed an indefinite embargo on this scandal, forbidding the kingdom’s papers from publishing the news on pain of exile or imprisonment. I, along with my fellow editors at The Snow Herald and Fjord Times, acquiesced, but my decision to keep my newsroom running would haunt my conscience for years. Iduna and Agnarr were already dead, but the criminal damage to Elsa and Anna was done. Their trauma would be Arendelle’s royal shame.
Perhaps it was my guilt that intensified my protective feelings towards the sisters. I’d never seen a lonelier queen than Elsa on coronation day. Poor Anna, desperately hoping to reconnect for some warmth, anything, as Elsa pushed her away in panic. That was the only way she knew how to protect her little sister. As I watched them, I wondered how these lost souls could survive the forces waiting to control the throne. I approached Elsa and offered our paper’s loyalty the night she fled north. Not exactly good timing.
Later on, I realized that it was Anna who truly understood the need to win hearts and influence minds. Years after Elsa’s coronation, at the younger of the Diarchy’s own coronation, Anna asked if we’d guide her through her coming political struggles. I swore I would, for by that time our politics were aligned: we both wanted to sweep away the evil legacies of her father and grandfather, Runeard.