The palace was quiet at night, but not uncomfortably so. There was a sort of elegant hush that made every creak of the floorboards sound like part of an old lullaby, and the scent of warm pinewood drifted faintly in from the hearth in the hallway.
I was alone in the room Queen Iduna had given me—a stately guest room with gold-lined curtains, a high wooden canopy bed, and a mirror taller than I was.
I sat in front of the mirror, running a wooden comb through my now-dark hair. It still felt strange seeing the black instead of my usual golden blonde. I'd gotten used to people recognizing me by that, and now… now I just looked like any other well-dressed dude.
I wasn't complaining. The fewer people who knew about the whole "exiled prince" thing, the better.
The door burst open with a loud thunk.
"CAMDEN!" Anna's voice echoed through the room like a firecracker.
I jolted, my comb flying straight out of my hand and disappearing somewhere under the bed. I turned to see Anna standing there, eyes wide, cheeks flushed, and practically bouncing on the balls of her feet.
"Dinner's about to start!" she grinned, hands on her hips. "And you're still in here playing with your hair?"
I blinked. "You—you just barge into rooms like that?"
"I knocked," she said cheerfully, brushing it off like a leaf on her shoulder. "And besides, we're friends now, right?"
That word made me pause, mostly because she said it with such casual confidence I couldn't even argue. She didn't wait for an answer, just grabbed my wrist and tugged me up off the bench. I didn't resist—she was strong for someone so bubbly.
As we walked side by side through the grand, candle-lit halls, Anna chattered at a rapid pace, her boots making soft clinks against the polished floor.
"You seem really… hyper," I said, giving her a sidelong glance. "What'd they put in your tea?"
"Nothing!" she said, puffing out her cheeks. "It's just—do you know how boring it is being stuck in this place all the time? Don't get me wrong, I love the palace, and Elsa is amazing and all, but there's no one my age around! Like, at all."
I tilted my head. "What about the nobles' kids? Don't they visit?"
"Ugh," she groaned, throwing her head back. "Those stuffy, no-fun, all-rules-all-the-time brats? Half of them look like they'd rather eat a fork than laugh. Besides, Father doesn't really encourage me to hang around them too much. He's got this whole thing about influence and behavior and keeping appearances. It's exhausting."
We rounded a corner, and the hallway grew wider, grander. Tapestries lined the walls, each depicting some part of Arendelle's proud history, but Anna wasn't even looking at them.
"I guess I just… I never had a real friend," she continued, her tone softening. "You're not like the others. You're… weird. In a good way."
I raised an eyebrow. "Thanks? I think?"
"You are!" she insisted. "You're a pirate, you saved my parents when you could have jut looted them and ran away. And I hear you have magic That's cool!"
I couldn't help but smirk. "That's your bar for friendship? Prince charming and pirate coats?"
"No," she said, stopping abruptly. Her face turned serious—like really serious. She clasped her hands behind her back, and when she looked at me, her big blue eyes were practically shimmering.
"I'm asking if you'd like to be my friend," she said, almost in a whisper.
There was something so honest about the way she said it.
I smiled softly and nodded. "Of course. I'd be honored."
The reaction was instantaneous.
"YAYYY!"
Before I could brace for impact, Anna leapt at me and wrapped her arms around my neck, nearly tackling me to the ground with the force of the hug. I caught her, staggering back a step, and laughed through the surprise.
"You're lucky I'm not made of glass," I muttered, grinning.
She didn't let go immediately. "You're the first person outside my family to say yes," she mumbled into my shoulder.
That hit something in my chest. I patted her back gently, unsure of what to say. I wasn't used to being this close to someone of the opposite gender—platonically, anyway—and it was oddly nice. Sure, I had a dedicated maid and my royal guards, but those guys dont count
Then, with perfect comedic timing, the huge doors to the royal dining room creaked open with a dramatic groan.
Standing at the head of the long dinner table was King Agnarr, and his sharp blue eyes zeroed in on me, standing in the hallway holding his daughter like I was rescuing her from a fire.
Anna finally glanced over and gasped. "Oops!"
She dropped down from the hug and straightened her dress with the frantic guilt of someone caught sneaking pastries.
I tried to look as non-threatening and innocent as possible. Not an easy task when you've got a girl clinging to you and the king is staring daggers into your soul.
Agnarr's brow quirked up, but he said nothing. His arms were folded behind his back, and while his expression was stern, I didn't feel danger. Just a deep, fatherly curiosity and a sprinkle of that "what the hell is my daughter doing" energy.
"Sorry, Father!" Anna called as she skipped ahead. "Camden and I are friends now!"
The king blinked. "I gathered."
I followed behind her, brushing invisible dust off my sleeves and doing my best not to make eye contact with the king. Queen Iduna was already seated at the table and gave me a soft, knowing smile.
Elsa sat beside her, reserved and regal, hands folded neatly on the linen. She met my gaze briefly, then turned back to her cup of tea, the faintest pink tinge coloring her cheeks.
The table was enormous, covered in plates of roast meats, steaming vegetables, golden breads, and rich gravies. Even Jack, seated at the far end, looked impressed as he eyed a jug of wine with thinly veiled lust.
I slid into my seat beside Anna, who kept beaming like she'd won some kind of prize. Across from me, Elsa's eyes flicked back in my direction, then quickly away again.
She was trying to seem disinterested, but her fingers were nervously drumming against her napkin.
Agnarr took his seat at the head of the table and raised a glass.
"To returning safely," he said. "To brave souls who sail through storms. And to unexpected friends."
His eyes landed on me for that last one.
I lifted my glass slightly, offering a respectful nod. I wasn't sure if I was in trouble or gaining approval, but for the moment, I'd take the silence.
Well,
The dinner was a surprisingly warm and lively affair.
At least, it was once the tension of the entrance moment had passed. The food was amazing—roast duck with some sort of spiced glaze, buttery potatoes, fluffy bread that felt like clouds in your mouth, and sweet sauces that reminded me of autumn harvests back home.
Jack was already two cups into some wine that looked too expensive for him, and judging by the grin on his face, he was loving every second of this "royal treatment."
Puss was curled up in a plush seat beside him, delicately nibbling at a small saucer of fish the staff had kindly provided.
I sat comfortably near the middle of the long, candle-lit table, beside Anna, with Iduna across from me and Agnarr at the head.
The King and Queen were clearly well-practiced in keeping dinner conversations flowing, but they didn't feel stiff or overly proper.
In fact, I'd expected the talk to be all about state affairs and alliances. But it wasn't. It was… human. Simple. And it made the palace feel a little less like a cage.
"So, Camden," Iduna said between sips of a light, golden wine. "You're clearly not just a simple magic practitioner. You handled that storm with power I have never seen before. Were you taught magic by a Great Mage?"
I chuckled, chewing thoughtfully before answering. "No. I mean, not at first. Most of it came from trial and error. I had a mentor later on, but he was more about giving me books than actually explaining anything. Said nature was the best teacher."
'I miss Merlin,' I thought.
Iduna smiled. "Wise man."
"Painfully wise," I said with a small laugh. "Though I did almost freeze my legs off trying to walk on water at first. So, you know… mixed results."
That got a snort from Anna, who nearly dropped her fork. "You can walk on water? That sounds like something Elsa would do!"
Elsa, seated diagonally across from me, glanced up at the mention of her name. She didn't say anything, just returned to cutting her food with graceful, measured movements.
I noticed she hadn't spoken at all since sitting down. Occasionally, her eyes drifted toward me—quick flicks, just a second too long to be accidental—but she always looked away the moment I noticed.
Agnarr leaned forward, resting his arms on the table. "You've lived an interesting life for someone your age. A prince, a magician, a pirate and a swordsman from the way you carry your self. Not exactly what I expected when we first crossed paths."
"I could say the same," I replied with a smirk. "Didn't expect to find a king and queen in the middle of a maelstrom either."
He gave a dry chuckle. "Fair."
We talked for a while about nothing in particular. Anna asked me a million questions, as usual—my time in Eldoria, what food I liked, if I'd ever ridden a dragon (I had, once; I didn't recommend it), if I thought snow tasted better than rain (oddly enough, yes), and whether I could summon a water bear (that one confused me until I realized she meant a creature made of water shaped like a bear).
She was insatiably curious, and I didn't mind it. In fact, her enthusiasm was a nice balance to the quiet majesty of the palace. Iduna had a gentle warmth about her, like she could read emotions without needing to ask, and Agnarr had the kind of presence that told you he could command a room—or a battlefield—without ever raising his voice.
But then there was Elsa.
Still quiet. Still carefully isolated behind an invisible wall.
I watched her for a moment while she delicately picked at a vegetable tart, her gloved hands never straying too far from her lap. She was clearly listening, I could tell by the slight tilt of her head whenever someone spoke—but she was also clearly removed, sitting at the table like a shadow of herself. Not aloof, just… guarded.
And every now and then, she'd glance at me again. Then look away.
Alright.
I leaned forward slightly, directing my voice just a bit toward her side of the table. "Elsa," I said, casually, as though I wasn't gently poking a sleeping polar bear. "Do you like roasted duck?"
There was a brief pause. Her fork stopped mid-cut, hovering for just a second too long before she placed it down and looked up.
"I do," she said softly, her voice smooth but quiet. "The chefs here have always made it well."
"Any dish they mess up?" I asked, grinning a bit. "Please tell me there's at least one recipe disaster in this place."
To my quiet delight, a small smile tugged at her lips.
"They once tried to serve eel stew at a banquet," she said, tone almost conspiratorial. "It… didn't go over well. Someone cried."
I laughed. "Cried? Who?"
"Ambassador from the Western Isles. Apparently, eel was considered sacred in their culture. They thought we were mocking them."
Agnarr rubbed the bridge of his nose, groaning. "Don't remind me."
Iduna chuckled. "I had to pretend it was a spiritual cleansing soup to avoid political disaster."
"I told the chef never to use eel again," Elsa added calmly, though her eyes twinkled faintly.
I leaned back in my chair, giving her a small nod. "Noted. No eel for Arendelle diplomacy."
The table warmed a little more after that. Elsa didn't jump into every conversation, but she no longer looked like she was trying to disappear. I made it a point to keep involving her now and then—nothing heavy, just small comments, little questions.
I wanted her to feel seen, even if she didn't want to speak much.
"Do you read?" I asked her after a while.
"Quite a bit," she said, dabbing at the corners of her mouth with a napkin. "Mostly history. And poetry."
"Got a favorite?"
She hesitated a moment, then answered. "There's a piece from the Northuldra traditions—spoken poetry. It's about balance. Between power and peace." (A/N: The mystical forest where her spirit power comes from.)
"Sounds fitting," I said.
Her eyes met mine again, and this time they lingered. Her expression was calm, but behind it I saw something else. Not quite curiosity. Not quite caution. Maybe both.
"It's not always easy to find that balance," she said.
I nodded. "No, it's not. But sometimes it helps to have someone walk with you while you try."
Another pause, a soft exhale.
"I'll… think about that," she said.
Anna was too busy arguing with Jack about whether reindeer were cuter than cats to notice our exchange. Agnarr was pouring himself another drink, and Iduna had leaned over to whisper something to her husband.
I was grateful for the moment of quiet between just Elsa and me.
*****
[A few minutes later]
[After dinner]
[Somewhere in the garden]
Night had finally fallen over Arendelle. I mean, deep night, full moon and everything.
I found myself in the garden, the moon casting a soft silver light across the dew-speckled grass and stone paths. Puss and Jack had decided to head back to the ship, not used to staying in luxury.
Lanterns were strung up like lazy stars between the trees, their warm golden glow lighting up the shrubs and delicate petals of the flowers swaying gently in the breeze.
I sat back on one of the polished benches, arms lazily hanging over the sides, soaking in the peace of the evening. Anna was plopped on the ground in front of me, legs crossed, plucking petals off a daisy she'd picked somewhere, while Elsa sat more quietly on the other end of the bench.
She hadn't said much since dinner, but her presence was enough to shift the energy. Graceful. Composed. Still a little guarded.
Anna, as usual, carried the conversation like it was her mission in life.
"So then I told the Duke of Weselton that he looked like a carrot!" she giggled, tilting her head back as if she couldn't believe her own story. "Which was totally rude, but you know, in my defense, he really does!"
I smirked. "I don't even know who that is and I'm already offended for him."
Elsa snorted. It was barely audible, but it was there. I glanced over at her, catching the way she quickly tried to hide her smile behind a sip of tea from the cup she'd brought with her.
Anna looked between us. "Oh no. You're laughing. That means the ice queen approves."
"I didn't say anything," Elsa said softly.
"Your smile said it for you," I teased, looking her way again. "You've got a sharp laugh. You should use it more often."
Elsa flushed, eyes flicking down to her lap. "I'll try to remember that."
There was a pause, a soft quiet as a cool breeze rustled the trees.
Anna suddenly sat upright and turned toward me, clapping her hands together. "Oh! Camden—you do magic, right? Can you put on a show for us?"
I raised an eyebrow at her enthusiasm. "Depends. If I pull a rabbit out of my sleeve, does that count?"
She gasped. "Wait, can you actually do that?"
"No," I laughed. "But I can do something cooler. You wanna see?"
Anna practically bounced. "Yes yes yes! Elsa, don't you wanna see too?"
Elsa nodded slowly, her voice calm. "I'd like that."
"Well then." I stood up and brushed myself off, stepping into the open space of the garden. The grass was soft beneath my boots, the air just cool enough to nip at my skin.
I closed my eyes, took a breath, taking in every ounce of oxygen my lungscould hold before letting it out.
My foot slid forward across the grass, left hand extended, right hand trailing behind. I moved with the grace of the old monks who trained me.
The first motion came like a ripple—one foot stamping down, arms sweeping in an arc as the ground beneath me glowed briefly with red-orange heat.
Then, fire.
A slow stream of flame emerged from my palm, dancing upward in a spiral as I spun, my body low to the ground. My left leg extended out in a sweeping kick, sending the flame arching like a whip through the air.
It twirled around me in a tight circle before being caught by my hand again, shaped by the momentum of my movement.
Anna gasped behind me. "He's like—whoa! Elsa, look! He's dancing"
I was.
The style was precise, deliberate. Each step a breath. Each movement a word. Arms slicing the air, legs flowing like water. Fire streamed from my hands, not wild and violent, but elegant—controlled.
I spun on one heel, thrusting both palms out and lifting into a low jump. A burst of flame whooshed upward, swirling like a blooming lotus flower above me, casting brilliant orange reflections across the trees.
Elsa stood up now, eyes wide.
My feet touched down lightly. I ducked low into a sweeping kick, trailing twin streams of flame behind me, then pushed up with a palm strike that sent a small fire vortex into the air before I closed my fists and pulled it back in like gathering wind.
The heat of the fire danced across my skin, emanating a calm warm breeze onto my skin.
I ended with a final stance—one fist closed, the other open, body turned slightly to the side as the flames around me flickered out like candles.
Silence.
Anna was the first to burst into applause, leaping up and nearly knocking over a flower pot. "That was incredible! That was like—like—what's the word—awesome! Flame-tastic! Is that a word?" I gave her a little bow, laughing softly.
"Glad you liked it."
Elsa walked slowly toward me now. Her expression was more reserved than Anna's, but I could see the wonder in her eyes. Not just at the magic—but at the freedom of it. The control. The comfort.
"That was beautiful," she said quietly. "I've never seen anything like it."
"Thanks," I replied, brushing back a strand of my now-black hair. "It's a dance form I was taught a while back. Combining martial arts with magic. Letting the energy flow through your body, not just from your hands." (A/N: Energy/ Elemental Bending)
She looked down at her gloved hands, her smile faltering slightly.
I tilted my head. "What's on your mind?"
Elsa hesitated. Her voice was low. "I... I've always been afraid of my powers. I never saw them as something beautiful. Just something dangerous. Something I needed to hide."
Anna stood quietly nearby, giving her sister the space to speak.
"I hurt people before. My sister," she added, nodding toward Anna. "It wasn't on purpose... I just couldn't control it. And when I see you… using your flames so freely, smiling, dancing with them—it makes me wonder how you do it. Aren't you scared of losing control?"
I stepped closer to her, lowering my voice. "Magic listens to your heart, Elsa. If you're afraid of it, it gets confused. But if you welcome it, treat it like a friend, it'll trust you."
I held up my hand and summoned a small flame. It curled gently above my palm like a flower blooming in slow motion. "This? It's not just power. It's a piece of me. The more I learn about myself, the better I understand it. It reflects who I am."
Elsa's eyes were fixed on the flame.
"You're not broken," I continued. "And your powers aren't a curse. They're just misunderstood. And that fear in you—it's not weakness. It means you care. That's something no spell can teach."
She smiled faintly, something warmer and more vulnerable passing through her face.
"Would you teach me?" she asked, just above a whisper. "How to dance like that? How to… be like that with my magic?"
I grinned. "Yeah. I'd be honored."
Anna jumped in again with a huge grin. "You better teach me too! I want to shoot fireworks from my feet or something!"
We all laughed at that.
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