In Arendelle Harbor

His Excellency Franz Meyer, Ambassador from Corona, sat in his cabin. The ship was at anchor, awaiting permission to dock in the harbor. He knew he had time on his hands, as it was still early morning, though as far north as they were this close to midsummer, sunrise had been hours before. As many times as he was posted to northern countries, he never could get used to the hours of daylight in the summer and darkness in the winter.

Under normal circumstances with so many hours to wait, he would have called his private secretary to his cabin to take care of business, but as it happened, his cabin was facing away from the town, and as lovely as the fjord was, having the town in view would help with his instructions to the budding young diplomat in his employ.

It was a beautiful July day. The Ambassador looked at his diary, and realized the significance of the date here. It was, in fact, twenty-one years to the day. He and his colleagues didn't talk about that when they were in Arendelle. It was something of an agreed upon diplomatic taboo. No one was quite sure who exactly had agreed upon it, but none dared bring the topic up either in Arendelle or with any diplomats from Arendelle. Meyer himself had been in Corona at the time, about to embark for the Southern Isles. That trip had been delayed as his kingdom tried to decide if they needed to have a position on matters.

On this assignment and the recent voyage, Meyer had hoped his new secretary might have some more information for him about all that, as his mother had actually moved to Corona from Arendelle shortly before his birth, but on their voyage here, he had only learned that the poor Mrs. Nilsen avoided talking about the past, other than to tell stories of her late husband, the fishing boat captain. And his death had come close enough to those events that his widow was given a pension, sent all the way to Corona each year.

This struck the Ambassador as curious, though he said nothing to the young man, who seemed quite genuine in his love and trust in his mother. The man's talents were evident, though he felt somewhat guilty at how much of the unbridled naive enthusiasm would have to be broken in his chosen profession.

Lars Nilsen had only finished his training in Corona, and he had only made a few visits to neighboring islands before this. He looked even younger than his twenty years, in spite of being on the taller side of average, and trying to grow a small mustache. Meyer wondered if this attempt to look older might be backfiring, though the clean shaven red-haired boy he was at the beginning of the sea voyage looked easily five years younger.

The Ambassador heard a tentative knock at his cabin door, and stood up to walk over and open it himself, since he had no wish of staying in his cabin for much longer. He hoped the view of the town might help his employee remember some more information, but at least he could give him some ideas for places to ask if anyone had information on his family. Mr. Meyer opened his cabin door.

"Your Excellency!" gasped the young man standing outside as the door opened, "I didn't wish to disturb you."

"Mr. Nilsen, as I've told you before, you may simply call me Mr. Meyer when we are in private," said the Ambassador, "and do not worry about disturbing me, I was on my way up to the top deck for some fresh air. You may join me."

"Thank you, Your... I mean, Mr. Meyer, sir," he replied, and they walked up the narrow stairs to the top deck.

"Have you been up here to look out since we arrived?" asked Mr. Meyer.

"No, sir, I... just woke up," admitted Mr. Nilsen, "this is the first time I've seen the place."

"Do you have any family still living here?" probed the Ambassador.

"I don't know, sir," admitted the young man, "I don't think so. My mother told me that her parents had moved here from... Bergen? Goodness, you'd think I remember, but she really didn't like to talk about that. Her parents died before she got married, though, and I don't think my father had much family, either, but he died before I was born."

"I recall," Mr. Meyer reminded him, "so, you will have no one to visit here, I suppose. That will make it easier to focus on your work, I imagine. Once there is actual work, naturally. The Queen, of course, doesn't take visitors during her confinement, so we may have some state dinners, which still may be useful for meeting their ministers, and perhaps if you're lucky, some of the royal family, at least, those who stay long enough for a conversation, though I suppose I shouldn't judge, as I was lower ranked the last time I was here," he glanced at his secretary, "in the meantime, perhaps you can ask around town after people who might remember your mother and father. A smaller country like this, people are bound to know everyone else."

"I suppose so, Mr. Meyer," the young man replied, "I hadn't really thought about that, though I was thinking about taking some rides around the countryside. It does look lovely."

"You could certainly do both, you know," Mr. Meyer paused to think if there was anything else that would be worth discussing now, and remembered the mail package that had already been brought aboard. "But you will be happy to hear that a package of letters was delivered to our ship this morning, and I believe there are no fewer than three for you. You're quite a popular young man."

Mr. Nilsen blushed a bit, but had to admit that he had gotten quite a few letters since leaving Corona, though he didn't think letters from his mother counted as making him popular, and he felt sorry for anyone whose brother wouldn't keep in touch while away at sea.

"You're free to read these at your leisure, if you like," Mr. Meyer said as he handed the bundle of three letters to his secretary, "I don't foresee having any business to attend to for at least several hours, particularly being the day it is."

"Which day?" Mr. Nilsen began, "Oh! Yes, sir. And we aren't to speak of it."

"Yes, indeed. Though, of course, no one from Arendelle is around at the moment. I hope you don't mind speaking of it, as it was fairly close to your father's death."

"It was a few weeks later when that happened," the young man said, "though perhaps he had fallen ill due to the cold. Mother said his heart was a little weak, and he worked too hard."

"He was a fishing boat captain, you said?"

"Yes," he said, "and now my brother is a navy lieutenant for Corona. I suppose I was expected to go into the navy, as well... but I don't seem to take well to the sea."

"You've done well enough on this voyage, though thankfully we've had mostly very calm seas," the ambassador said, though it was not entirely true. Still, the young man recovered quickly enough any time the wind and waves calmed down.

"Yes, indeed, and for that I'm extremely grateful," he said, "I do hope my future father-in-law will forgive me for being prone to seasickness."

"Ah, yes, Captain Von der Decken, a good man. He has taken me as a guest many times, though I haven't met any of his daughters, but as I believe you have a letter from one of them, I shall leave you to read in private. Good day."

"Thank you, sir," said the young man.

He watched the ambassador walk toward the front of the ship for the best panoramic views of the town and the fjord. Houses were scattered up what seemed impossibly steep and high cliffs between trees and similarly precariously perched farm fields.

Front was Forward, which meant the back was Aft. Lars could keep those straight, but no matter how many times his brother had tried to explain, he could never keep Port and Starboard straight in his head. He had been very good at languages and rhetoric, and even a bit of mathematics, and had been deciding whether to apprentice to an accountant or a lawyer, when he had been asked to come train for diplomacy. He was hesitant, but his mother told him he shouldn't refuse. Thankfully, they lived in the city of Corona itself, so he was never very far from his mother during his training, and could see his brother every time he was home from sea.

He looked through the letters, and walked to a protected corner of the top deck. There wasn't much of a breeze this morning, but he didn't want to take his chances. He opened his mother's letter first. If there were any surprises, she would tell him the most gently. He admired her neat, regular handwriting. He did his best, but for a private secretary, had remarkably questionable handwriting. He had never been considered for a clerk, that much was certain. Margit Nilsen's letter to her son was wonderfully uneventful, with repeated statements of her admiration for his accomplishments, multiple tales of visits with his fiancee and her sisters and their mother, and a mention that his brother's ship might be visiting Arendelle while he was stationed there.

With this news, Lars decided to look at his brother's letter next. Lt. Karl Nilsen's writing was similar to their mother's, very even, though his was more masculine looking than the mother's. His latest voyage had been uneventful, as well, with the usual ports in the Baltic. He was happy to see that in a few months' time, they would, indeed, be visiting Arendelle. There was the usual teasing about his younger brother's inability to tolerate sea voyages, as well as being hopeless with directions. But after that, he hinted that on their voyage westward in the fall, his captain would like to bring a family guest along. Lars skimmed the rest of the letter, and feeling sure of no other news, he quickly opened his fiancee's letter.

Corona, July 18th, 1864

My Dearest Lars,

You may have heard by now that my father's ship will be visiting Arendelle this fall. What you may not have heard is that in a few weeks' time, the ship will be stopping in Corona, and Father has told me that I will be allowed to travel with him. I will see you in only a few months' time! With that news, I will be keeping this letter short, so that I may send it out in time, and perhaps be the first to share this wonderful news with you! We shall see what the future brings.

With much love,

Elizabeth von der Decken

Lars carefully folded the letter and gave it a kiss. Before he left, they had talked about when they might have a wedding, but there was no way to settle a date with his being assigned to a post so soon. Perhaps, he could hope, she might not insist on a large wedding with her mother and sisters... He couldn't really hope for that, but he also didn't want to make her wait for years to get married.

He carried his letters back down to his cabin, and carefully placed the letters from his mother and brother in the drawer of what passed for a writing desk in his cramped space. It would be packed up with his trunk and moved to his quarters in the castle later that day. Elizabeth's letter he placed in the jetted pocket on the inside of his jacket. No matter what the day brought, if he could find a quiet spot, he could be reminded of what might come.