MEDIA NEWS: Countess Vi BUYS The Arendelle Guardian

Featured image “The First Vampire” by hannah.digiart (@HDigiart)

ARENDELLE – The Arendelle Guardian has a new owner and its editorial staff a new employer. As of midnight, the Snow Herald is dissolved, its assets recouped by Countess Vi’s estate, and its journalists now transferred to The Arendelle Guardian’s office by the dockside. The Arendelle Guardian itself has been sold to Vi, who will be keeping its editor and the rest of the present staff in their positions.

The Arendelle Guardian, in return for signing a contract of new ownership under the Countess, will have the salaries of its editorial staff increased significantly, making the profession of the newsperson an aspirational goal for ambitious writers or young graduates of The University of Arendelle.

The Snow Herald was once the primary soapbox of the Countess, and when she opposed Anna in the early months of the latter’s reign, the newspaper was relentless in its ideological attacks on the queen and her allies. At certain points it even supported outrageous positions like questioning Anna’s ability to govern, and justifying the time when Vi tried to force Anna to accept her warship, Muspelheim, as a weapon for overseas war.

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Queen Anna and Lady Maren: the Hands of Elsa

Featured image art by Alanna (@alhuart). Art commissioned by The Arendelle Guardian

It was late morning. The sun was up and bright, though Anna’s mood was down and dark. The queen and Honeymaren were at the table of their private study, the morning light filtering through their windows, when the Snow Queen’s form glided in like some celestial creature. Elsa does this all the time, thought Anna. She was always lost, staring at that gossamer trail of gentle ice, until Elsa snapped her out of her meandering thoughts.

“Thanks for calling this emergency meeting. Thanks for being so brave to talk to Maren and me about what’s been going on with you,” Elsa said to Anna kindly. Despite her exhaustion, Anna beamed.

As Elsa scooted up to Anna, Maren sat across from them, eyes uncertain. Maybe she was wondering if Anna was angry with her for revealing so much in her column. But Anna wanted to tell her that she wasn’t, and indeed felt really guilty for roping her into this fight with the Mundilfaris, whom anyone barely knew, truly knew.

Well, Maren would know them soon enough.

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The Princely House

I was doodling on my notepad at my usual corner table in the Reindeer Room when a waiter strode in. “Ma’am, His Highness is here.”

“Thanks, Harald,” I said, taking a sip of my espresso. The bitter beans were all the rage in Europe, with salons, private clubs, and coffee houses catering for lovers of this aspirational tonic. Kristoff strode into the cigar smoke-smelling room, waving his big hand at me.

“You don’t turn up to the Club as often anymore,” I called.

“You know how I feel about these places. Stuffy, fake,” he groaned, scratching himself. “I love my woodlands and my mountains.”

“You’ve probably outgrown all the mutual shoe shining and back slapping around here. In any case, you already have Her Majesty’s desire and affection. Can’t beat that.”

He blushed.

“Venison? Salmon? Or just a lemon soda?” I asked.

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Three Fiefs in a Kingdom: A Guide to Arendelle’s Newspaper Empires

As you might have heard from the local gossip, there was a bit of a verbal confrontation at the Nokk Club. The kingdom’s only private ladies’ and gentlemen’s haunt, the Club isn’t a place for the stuffy jarldom or even the royal family. This is where Arendelle’s ascendant captains of industry, managerial and professional classes, and politicians and journalists congregate.

It was our usual inter-outlet meeting, where we debate and negotiate how we’ll frame the news and stake out our territory. My fellow press barons and I got a bit more heated than usual about Queen Anna, probably due to her recent political accomplishments. It climaxed with the owner of the Snow Herald throwing a bottle of fine aged wine against the wall, screaming an obscenity against Her Majesty. Meanwhile, the proprietor of the Fjord Times threatened to sic thugs on me to rough me up a bit. I guess I also floated the idea of sending reporters to rummage through her garbage. Not exactly our most noble moment of journalism.

You might be surprised at how high the stakes are in our small kingdom. In this editorial, I want to come clean and tell you all about Arendelle’s newspapers, from our constituents and readership to our power base and beliefs.

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