Elsa Comes Out: Did You Hear the News?

        It was six thirty in the evening and the table was filled. It always was. Mrs. Fiskjal’s rules were the most clear and unbreakable ones in all of Arendelle. You could have an audience with the queen but if you weren’t at the table at six thirty on the nose you had better hope she fed you.

        The boarding house hadn’t gotten any new members in a few years, but it also hadn’t lost any. Greda Fiskjal had invited people into her home after her husband had died some ten years ago while fishing, she simply couldn’t stand being alone like she was. Once she was surrounded with people however, she found that they couldn’t live without at least one rule. So that rule became dinner.

        And around the table sat all the boarders, all ready and waiting for Mrs. Fiskjal’s evening bounty. Albert Witwhicker had been a dock worker before some more work had dried up a year ago. Since then he’d joined the boarding house. He looked around the table at his other diners and housemates of the past year. Adolf Kaerjist worked at one of the smaller ice houses and, as far as Albert knew, as the first member of the boarding house. He was a somewhat terse man, and looked a bit like a runny egg.

        Sitting next to him was Agnetha Nettle, a seamstress that found her usual wages didn’t quite cover a better apartment. If Adolf was an egg then Agnetha was the hen that laid him, though she was more chicken than hen. Like Adolf she’d been there since before Albert’s time. Across from Agnetha was another woman Johanna Halfs. Albert was never really sure what she did, but she always seemed to have a lot of friends and always had the best gossip. She was younger than the rest of them, practically a girl herself, pretty with short brown hair. Next to her, as always, sat Jürgen. Albert never knew his family’s name. Like him he worked at the docks and had come to Fiskjal’s home soon after him. Jürgen didn’t talk much, and reminded Albert of a wolf with his combed back black hair and bushy eyebrows and sideburns.

        “So what’s in the paper today?” Adolf asked as the group waited for the meal to be served. All eyes turned to the last of the company, Edvard White. Edvard had the more important job at the table; he was the keeper of the paper and the arbiter of all talk that was good and decent to have there. Even Mrs. Fiskjal seemed to refer to him when conversation started to get away into untoward topics. The paper was splayed out in Edvard’s hands, hiding him from view.

        “It says here that Ice prices have gone up.” Edvard said in a low rumbling voice. Some people found it off putting but years of hearing the creaks of planks underfoot and the rumbling of cargo made Albert feel a strange kind of ease as he let the man’s voice wash over him.

        “That’s just strange”, Adolf said, shaking his head, “You’d think with a queen that can make ice it would go down!”

        “It’s because of that Ice Master, I tell you!” Mrs. Fiskjal called from her small kitchen, her sanctuary from the table, “He’s raising the prices and lining his pockets, I tell you!”

        “He’s not so bad,” Albert called back, “He’s actually surprisingly nice, if distant. He’s courting the princess isn’t he?”

        “Probably just wants the family’s money” Edvard rumbled. He always seemed to agree with Mrs. Fiskjal. Albert was so sure they were married when he’d first arrived.

        “Oh look at these two Albert, no sense of love,” Adolf said, waving at Edvard.

Agnetha coughed, “I’d heard that he was an orphan when he was younger. Never had a family.”

        “No no, he had a family,” Adolf said, “He was raised by reindeer.”     

        “I thought it was his family was changed into reindeer,” Albert wondered, “And that one he’s always with is his brother.”

        Adolf thought on this, “Well I have seen him once or twice… and he does talk to it. Who could change a family into reindeer?”    

        “Elves,” came the simple answer from Jürgen.

        “We have elves around here?” Agnetha asked.

        “No no. No elves,“ Johanna said, ”We’ve always had trolls in the rocky parts of the forest.”

        “There’s no such things as trolls or elves for fairies,” Adolf said, “I enjoy a good story but that’s all they are.”

Albert simply shrugged it off, “Is there anything else interesting?” he asked instead.

        Before the man could answer Mrs. Fiskjal boomed into the room, a large wooden tray carrying the day’s meal. Sausages and potatoes. Not a feat by any means but was more than welcomed by the houseguests. Their house mistress took her seat at the head of the table opposite Edvard.

        “Well dig in now, it’s not going to get any warmer, I tell you.”

        For a moment conversation stopped as the dinners got stuck into their food. The sausages were plump and greasy, the kind of food you craved after ten hours in the wet and the cold on the dock. The skins were crunchy, with little flecks of black and brown. The meat inside, juicy with the occasionally chewy bit of fat and you squeezed all the flavor out of before swallowing. The potatoes could be cut with a fork, and were practically able to be mashed at the touch. They had that faint taste that Albert could only describe as ice. That sort of far away cold stale flavor. Still the warmth of the potatoes was inviting and added more body to the meat.

        Agnetha and Johanna politely and delicately cut up their meals, while the men practically scarfed down their first sausage each. Soon the conversation was struck up again.

        “Says here the queen is sick again. Going on a week now.”

        “Again? I thought she’d just gotten over something?” Jürgen said.

        “That was ages ago,” Johanna said, “She had some kind of summer flu, remember?”

        “Oh yes that’s right.” Albert said.

        “She’s sick because she misses her sister,” Mrs. Fiskjal said, “They’ve always been very close, I tell you.”

        “I heard that she’s locked herself up because she’s pregnant,” Johanna said.

        “That’s slander, is what that is,” Adolf returned, “The queen’s not even married,”

        “I’m just telling you what my friend told me,” she shot back.

        “Who are these friends anyway, ‘Hanna?” Agnetha asked.

        “Good ones. They know people from the castle.”

        “Oh, ‘they know people,’ So who’s the father?” Agnetha said in a huff.

The younger woman eyeballed the older one, “They say it’s the Ice Master, as a matter of fact. Getting into the family indeed!”

        The table scoffed at the idea, “Now that is slander,” Jürgen said, as he chewed on another bite of sausage.

        “Who could possibly think that?” Agnetha said, “He’s already going to marry Princess Anna, everyone knows that.”

        “I think it would be romantic,” Johanna insisted, “Two lover’s separated by money, having to decide between their family or their love…”

        “Another one of those silly books you girls read.” Albert said grabbing another potato.

        “I’ll have you know I have it on good authority that Princess Anna reads those same books!”

        “The authority of those ‘friends’ of yours?” Agnetha sniggered.

        “Hush up you two,” Mrs. Fiskjal, “Edvard, please tell me there’s something more appropriate for the table.”

        “Hmm” came the rockslide grumbled from the man’s throat, “Says here they’re going to start building another section of wall. More people are building houses around the city and they want protection.”

        “Do they need workers? I’ve still not heard from the docks,” Albert asked, trying to crane his head to see Edvard’s face. Somehow the man was eating while still holding the paper before him.

        “That business with Weselton hit us hard,” Jürgen said.

        “Well can you blame the queen for cutting ties? They did try to kill her,” Agnetha said.

        “Still, you should think of your people. We could use that money.” Mrs. Fiskjal said.

        “So about that construction work…” Albert tried to reach for the paper before Mrs. Fiskjal slapped his hand away.

        “No reaching!”