Love Letter

A Trials of Light and Darkness Story

xxx

Author's Note:

Welcome to Love Letter, the next TLD short story! This one dives a bit deeper into the genesis of Elsa and Novare's relationship, set in the space between Arc One and Arc Two of Trials of Light and Darkness. If you haven't read any of my fanfictions before, you can definitely still enjoy Love Letter, but the amount of OCs might seem a little dense and intimidating at first. It's a volume that gets built up over time in the long-length novels, but I can appreciate that it would seem a little overwhelming for someone jumping in here. For that reason, I'd recommend reading Arc One of Trials of Light and Darkness first, and then returning to this.

For returning fans, thanks for sticking with me! I hope you enjoy!

xxx

Chapter One

The rich ones want it, the wise ones know it, the poor ones need it, and the kind ones show it.

The Royal Palace,

Arendelle

November 21st, 1842

Elsa shuffled the top paper in the sheaf to the back, eyes rapidly scanning the bulky document. Her magistrates sat assembled around the round table in the blue room, the traditional chamber in which Arendelle's monarch met with the assembled Magistrates' Council. Her lips moved slightly and silently as she read to herself. Odette glanced away and met Charles Vander's eyes across the table. The oldest member of the council gripped a cigar in the side of his mouth, and he patted around his chest, looking for a matchbook to give himself a light. He inclined his head slightly to Odette, indicating a level of respect that she wasn't sure the other members of the council had afforded her yet.

Odette was new to this. A recent university graduate in political science and law, the bright young girl was certainly educated well-enough for her current position on the queen's most trusted board of advisors, but she was young. Barely twenty-six, Odette was less than half the age of any other member of the Magistrate's Council; and, as if her youth wasn't enough, she'd only been appointed in the first place because of the untimely death of their former colleague, Agatha Merke. Her position of influence with the queen was a cause for pause for many who thought her too green. Odette wasn't exactly sure how she could prove them wrong.

"Who wrote this?" Elsa said, rearranging the sheaf of papers and tapping it on the desk.

"That would be me, your majesty," Shermish Halloway answered, leaning forwards a bit excitably. "I think that you'll find the position quite –"

"What is your job, Mr. Halloway?" Elsa asked. Though her voice wasn't unkind, Odette felt a sudden and irrational urge to take cover somewhere.

"Excuse me?" The portly counselor replied, frowning.

"I said what is your job, Mr. Halloway." Elsa dropped the sheaf of papers onto the table.

"Um, I – I'm an associate magistrate, your majesty. I've sat on the Magistrate's Council for fifteen years. I don't understand your question."

Elsa stood up, casting her imperious gaze about the table. Those half-lidded eyes made Odette squirm a little. "Ah, good. You'll forgive me the mistake of thinking that someone took it upon themselves to make you my new communications director."

"Your majesty?" Halloway looked about to the other magistrates, still unsure why he was being berated. Namar Sadden coolly returned his gaze.

"Your job, Mr. Halloway," Elsa said, "is to provide counsel to your queen when it is called upon. I do not, on the other hand, need you to write a statement for me on the estate tax! Especially one that runs so counter to my own position on the matter!"

"My queen, it is a trivial matter," Halloway spluttered, face red. "The mere fact that the monarch gives a yearly address discussing the possible institution of an estate tax is little more than symbolism. Your father promised the sailor's guild that he would consider the taxes, but he never intended –"

"Seeing as my father is neither in this room nor alive, at the moment," Elsa said sarcastically, "I'm going to go out on a limb here and say that his word doesn't hold any weight around here anymore."

"Queen Elsa," Namar Sadden said, finally coming to Halloway's aid, who seemed to audibly breathe a sigh of relief, "Expressly reversing your father's position on the matter would be seen as a breach of trust by a young and inexperienced queen. It would completely delegitimize your standing amongst some of Arendelle's wealthiest citizens."

"You'll excuse me if I care little how my favorability numbers run among the twenty men in this city rich enough to own eighty percent of the buildings. The tax revenue would open dozens of schools. It's not a tough debate."

"They would be powerful enemies, your majesty," Charles Vander said, puffing on his cigar.

"Last time I checked, gentlemen, we don't live in a country with fair and free elections. Last time I checked, I can piss off whoever the hell I want, and they can't do a damn thing about it."

The temperature in the room had gotten noticeably cooler. Odette was staring at her hands. Elsa had wound her way back to the head of the table, which she leaned against with both of her hands flat against the table, spread wide. She looked very in-charge.

"I don't need you to try to talk me off of the estate tax," Elsa said, gaze sweeping around the table again. "And I don't want to see mention of it again. Now get the hell out of here."

She waved a hand dismissively, and the magistrates stood, their chairs scraping against the floor. As one, the magistrates murmured 'thank you, your majesty,' and shuffled out of the blue room, shoulders bowed.

Once they were a few steps down the hallway, Halloway spoke. "I was trying to take some work off her desk. I thought she might appreciate it."

Namar Sadden put a hand on Halloway's shoulder. "It's alright, Shermish. She's had a stressful week. Early talk about the platform isn't as positive as she would have liked. I'm sure she'll apologize to you later."

Halloway shook the hand away and stalked off, moody. Novare was just about to turn her separate way when Findlay Morrison called to her.

"Take a walk with me, Odette."

Odette nodded to him and fell into step alongside. "What's up?"

They started down the corridors of the palace, heading past an endless sea of expensive tapestries and paintings, dating back hundreds of years and kept in meticulously good shape by a dedicated staff of servants.

"You should know, beforehand, that Namar was the one who asked me to ask you –" They stepped around a matronly servant carrying a number of thick binders, and Findlay interrupted himself to greet her. "Gerda, it's wonderful to see you. I've been looking all over for you, actually. I was wondering if you could see to it that the July invoices are sent to my clerk."

"Yes, Mr. Morrison, I could have that done by the end of the day. He'll know what to do with them?"

"If he doesn't, then I'm not sure what I'm paying him for," Findlay said as they continued down the hall. "Thank you, Gerda."

"What did Namar Sadden ask you to ask me?" Odette prompted.

"Well, you see, I told him that it's generally not proper practice to give these sort of duties to a freshman magistrate, but he told me that we might as well float the idea and see how you respond."

"I don't have all day, Findlay," Odette said as they stepped into the west wing of the palace. She nodded to a low-level clerk rushing past with a sheaf of papers in his hands. She didn't know his name, but she saw him just about every day, and they were in the habit of nodding to each other. "What is it?"

"We'd like you to give the queen the list."

"The list?"

The west wing of the palace was the business end, and the bedrooms and smoking-chambers of the residence were replaced here with rather dull meeting rooms and offices. They turned now into Findlay's corner office, spacious compared to most of the other rooms, and well-lit by a large window. At Findlay's motion, Odette took a seat across from his desk and absently straightened a stack of papers as the counselor settled down across from her.

"Ah, yes. How silly of me; I didn't even consider that you wouldn't have been introduced to the list yet."

"I mean, I've seen plenty of lists since I started working here," Odette said, running a hand through her hair and wincing as she hit a snarl. She hadn't worn her hair down in a few days, and in the meanwhile hadn't brushed it much. She was in for a painful ten minutes when she finally got around to it. "But I assume that you're talking about something special."

"Quite special," Findlay said. He was interrupted as his secretary stepped into the doorway.

"Mr. Morrison?" She clasped her hands in front of herself, demurely.

"Captain Salvador is waiting for me in the east conference room," Findlay guessed.

"Actually, west conference. We had to move him; there are some courtsmen meeting the queen in the east conference room right now."

Findlay waved his hand. "Alright, give me five minutes. Go apologize to him for the wait and offer him something to drink."

"Yes, sir." The secretary ducked away, her heels clicking behind her.

"The list," Findlay said, turning back towards Odette, "Miss Novare, is the informal name that we've given to a collection of possible suitors for the queen."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, we keep tabs on marriageable and prominent young men across Europe, and we collect their names in a list. Every month or so, one of us meets with the queen to talk about the men on the list, and to gently encourage her to seek a husband."

There were many reasons that the magistrates wished for Elsa to seek a husband, not least of which, that the senior counsellors believed that her fiery temper and radical agendas might tame themselves a bit if she were occupied with raising a family as well. To boot, a well-chosen suitor would help intertwine Arendelle with more powerful European nations and would most likely earn the little shipping nation a strong and reliable trade partner. Ever since they'd declared a formal embargo against the state of Weselton, they'd also lost the business of its allies, including several Balkan states and Russia. It would do well to replace them with something else.

"Why is it that you normally wouldn't let a junior counsellor do this?" Odette asked, crossing her arms.

"Well, you see," Findlay rubbed the back of his neck. "You remember how she responded to Shermish earlier, right?"

"Of course."

"Well, in the grand scheme of things, that was a rather light outburst for the queen," Findlay said. "She really doesn't enjoy being talked to about marriage."

"So you're saying that she's going to blow up at me if I bring up the list with her?"

"Why else do you think she hasn't been married yet?" Findlay said, sounding exhausted. "It certainly isn't for lack of marriageable and handsome young suitors, and it certainly isn't for lack of us trying."

Odette had seen Queen Elsa's outbursts before, but the queen had never been anything less than pleasant to her. As a matter of fact, during that entire trip to Bavaria and back, Elsa had been polite. Kind, even friendly. Odette was pretty sure that Elsa had called her a 'friend' to someone along the way. Perhaps these stuffy old men were just going about it the wrong way.

"Yeah, okay, let's do it."

"You'll do it?" Findlay sounded genuinely surprised. "But, you're aware –"

"Yes, I'm aware of how you expect her to respond," Odette said. "Call me crazy, but I think that I just might get somewhere with her."

"Actually, that's precisely what we thought as well," Findlay said, sounding relieved. He was fiddling with a pen. "You see, we'd gotten into the habit of having Agatha do it, because –"

"You think that she'll be more willing to listen to a woman about it," Odette finished.

"Yes." Findlay opened a drawer at his desk and removed a green folder. He passed it to Odette, who flipped it open to see several bound pages inside, with a list of names. They were each associated with a title and a country, and they appeared to be given a letter grade. The A's on the first page, B's on the next, and so forth. There were some notes at the foot, and some in the margins. Things like: Blaise Morello might be courting Sydney Lyman of Sussex. Perhaps not available.

"Alright," Odette said, closing the folder and standing up. "Have fun with Captain Salvador, Findlay." The captain had an exceedingly well-established reputation for boorishness.

"Yes," Findlay said, removing his spectacles and pinching the bridge of his nose. "Thank you, Odette."

Odette nodded and stepped out of the office, heading towards the east conference room to wait for the queen.

xxx

Elsa stepped out of the conference room, smiling over her shoulder and waving once more to the courtsmen that were gathering their things behind her. The Queen of Arendelle turned and saw Odette Marie Novare step away from the wall, where she'd apparently been waiting. They fell into step beside each other, walking towards the residence. Elsa needed to think, and the best place to do that, in her experience, was Agnarr's old study.

"There's a small town named Brent in the north foothills," Elsa said by way of introduction. "Eighty percent of their citizens make their living farming grain."

"Hi, by the way," Odette replied.

They turned a corner, and Elsa twisted to meet Odette's eyes. "But of course, it's not easy to grow grain in our soil, on our mountainsides. It's actually rather costly. Bread is more expensive in our nation than any other state in Europe."

"Your majesty, if I could just cut in –"

"Now, naturally, I consider it my prerogative as queen to make sure that as many of my citizens as possible have access to affordable bread. So, when Sweden offers to trade their wheat, which they have in excess, for our wool, which we have in excess, I couldn't be expected to do anything but wholeheartedly agree."

"Yes, your majesty."

They stepped into the residence, and things became noticeably quieter. There weren't a dozen harried workers filling the hallway, heading this way or that to account for all of the many busy things the crown was involved in, nor were there many servants, at this time of day. The carpet was thicker, and the ornamentations nicer. Elsa turned towards Odette.

"Excuse me?"

Odette stopped. "Excuse me what?"

"I don't believe that you've addressed me in my preferred manner once today, Odette."

Odette blushed. "It's not proper, your majesty."

Elsa turned and continued walking, and Odette scurried to keep up. "Well, you see, Odette, that's the great thing about being queen," she smirked. "I get to change the rules of propriety if I don't like them."

"Okay –"

Elsa raised an eyebrow.

"– Elsa," Odette finished, the name tingling on her lips. For some reason, it felt dirty to be referring to someone as powerful and glamorous as Elsa by her first name.

"In any case," Elsa continued, sweeping on, "I accepted the new trade agreement with Sweden last April. Since then, the price of bread has fallen by nearly half. The poor are less hungry than they've ever been."

"That's a wonderful achievement," Odette said earnestly.

"Yes, it is," Elsa agreed, stopping at the thick oaken door to her father's old study and looking Odette in the eyes. "We've probably saved the lives of hundreds of poor, most of them children."

She opened the door, and they stepped into the office. Odette inhaled, smiling at the pleasant smell of old books. The young magistrate took a seat at one of the plush chairs beside the thick desk, and Elsa walked around to the other side.

"But now the people of Brent are destitute," Elsa said. "Before, the grain they grew was baked into bread all across the country. Now they barely earn enough to support themselves."

Odette frowned. She hadn't thought of that.

"Some of them write me letters," Elsa said. "The last was from a young mother, with three children under five. They were nearly ruined by the trade act, and this year, their crop was weak. They hadn't been able to afford the necessary measures to protect their crop from pests, and their yield was low. Her husband committed suicide a few weeks ago. They will have to sell the farm just to survive."

"Why did she write to tell you this?" Odette said, feeling slightly ill.

"She didn't have anyone else to go to," Elsa said. "She needed someone to care."

"What are you going to do about it?" Odette asked quietly.

"Nothing," Elsa replied, sighing and rubbing her face. "There's nothing I can do. For the first time in three centuries, our budget runs at a deficit. Our treasury is already pledged to financing initiatives like the construction of public schools, and the pay for public works employees, like the ones who are painting murals on the shops at Condorcet Square.

"For the first time in three centuries, the crown is committed to improving the lives of all of its citizens. It seems oxymoronic, but that means some people are going to get left behind. A financial bailout of Brent would cost far more gold than you might imagine. I've had some of my commerce advisors run the numbers. It isn't doable."

They were both quiet for a few long moments. Suddenly, the 'list' seemed ridiculously idiotic to Odette.

"Logically, I know that I'm doing more good than harm," Elsa said. "But that doesn't make reading the letters any easier."

"I admire your strength," Odette said. It didn't really feel right to say that, but she couldn't think of anything else.

Elsa half-smiled. "Anyway. What's on your mind, Odette?"

"Well," she began, "Namar asked Findlay to ask me to –"

Elsa rolled her eyes. "Wow. What gentlemen, passing the list off to you."

"Oh, no, I, uh, I have no problem with it," Odette hurriedly said. "I told them that I would handle it."

Elsa sighed. "Let me see it."

She waved her hand, and Odette passed over the green folder. Elsa flipped it open and scanned the names, eyes darting back and forth quickly. After a few seconds, she looked over the top of it at Odette.

"There aren't any new names?"

Odette shrugged. "I mean, I have no idea. I'd never seen it before today."

Elsa flipped to the next page, and then groaned. "The list hasn't even changed since last month! There's no new information in here. If I didn't want to marry of these men a month ago, what makes Namar Sadden think that I'd want to marry one now?"
"A sense of childlike optimism?" Odette guessed with a grimace.

"Do you know why I don't want to marry one of these men?" Elsa said, closing the folder and setting it upon her desk, then lacing her fingers together over it.

"I don't," Odette conceded. "They're all wealthy and powerful. The ones with an 'A' rating are supposedly handsome and charming as well. They've all expressed interest in your hand, and you don't seem like the type to hold out for love."

"What makes you say that?" Elsa asked, seeming genuinely curious.

"Well, I mean, it's just that you're always so pragmatic," Odette supplied, realizing that she was fidgeting and deliberately stopping. "You just seem so – above – something as human as romance."

Elsa smiled. "Are you being serious?"

"Very!" Odette said, surprised. Is that not how Elsa perceived herself? With an aura of something inhuman, something better?

"Well, that's as good a reason as I was about to give," Elsa said, passing the folder back over the table to Odette. "Take this back to Namar Sadden and tell him personally that I'm still uninterested, and that he's going to have to learn to live with that."

"Yes, your highness," Odette said, inclining her head. She stood and headed for the door.

"Odette?"

She turned and looked back at Elsa, who had her head bent over a stack of paperwork.

"Yes?"
"Do you mind if I ask you a forward question?"
Odette felt herself blush, but Elsa didn't look up and notice it. For that, the young magistrate was grateful. She tried to keep her voice neutral as she said, "Yes, of course."

"It's not that I'm not interested in romance at all," Elsa said, setting her pen aside and looking up at Odette. "But I'd only be interested in going about things on my own terms. No lists."

"That sounds very reasonable, Elsa." Odette scratched the wood of the doorframe with her fingernails absently.

"The thing is," Elsa said, "I've never dated before. Hell, I've never even been on a date before."

Elsa frowned, and for a few moments it looked like she was chewing on what she was about to say.

"So I was wondering if you'd like to teach me what you know about dating."

"Excuse me?" It was Odette's turn to frown.

"Well, surely you've had a fair bit more experience with these matters," Elsa said matter-of-factly. It seemed like she was trying to conceal embarrassment. "I try to make a policy of listening to those who know more than me."

"Elsa, I'm not exactly what you would call an expert on dating," Odette said, blushing. "I wasn't exactly 'dating around' in college."

Elsa found that hard to believe. Odette might have intimidated the boys, sure; after all, she was almost certainly smarter than all of them. But at the same time, she was stunningly beautiful. It was very hard to envision a world where she wouldn't have had suitors lining up to court her.

"Well," Elsa said, "I can only ask this of a close advisor, because I can be seen in public with one of them without consequence. And I'm certainly not about to take Namar Sadden out to lunch. So I'd certainly appreciate it if you wanted to help."

"Wait." Novare blushed further. "You want to take me on a date?"
Elsa pursed her lips. "Well, yes. What are your plans for lunch?"

Odette tried not to gasp. "Uh-um, nothing! Nothing at all! I-I mean, I'd be delighted. It would be my pleasure."

She almost winced. Damn, I sound so awkward.

"Perfect," Elsa smiled. "Then it's a date."