In the Beginning

One

"Ow!" Idunn jumped as the hairpin nearly impaled her skull.

"Hold still, you useless thing," her mother grumbled, fussing with the young woman's hair, the color of rich soil, attempting to mold the unruly tresses into a somewhat orderly twist. She pushed yet another pin into place, sending a jab of pain through Idunn's scalp. She flinched, biting her lower lip.

"Mother, I'm certain there are less... Painful ways to style my hair," she sighed, wincing as her mother hit an already sore spot on her scalp.

"Well, I'm not the one who insisted on being a storyteller, am I? I'm trying to make the most of your pitiful profession, Ingrid. I ought to kick you out, you know."

"Idunn," she corrected her, digging her nails into her palms. "You gave me the damn name. Why can't you remember it?"

"That's what I said. Watch your tongue." A sharp pain caused Idunn to cry out, a result of what had to be her mother deliberately prodding her scalp with the sharp styling pins. "Oh, be quiet, you foolish girl. I've endured far worse. Besides, I'm not the one going before the royal family today. Who knows, maybe you'll even meet someone important willing to take your pathetic hand. It's about time you married."

She frowned. "I thought you hated them."

Her mother clucked in disapproval. "Of course I do. I don't mean for you to wed one of those corrupt monarchs. Perhaps a Duke, though, to bring a little honor to your family tree. I hear the fellow from Weselton is visiting the palace."

"They're not /corrupt/. You're just bitter because they revoked your title as a duchess after you divorced Edvard." She studied her own pale face in the mirror in boredom. What she wouldn't give, to remove herself from this monotonous and restricting lifestyle, living under her harsh mother and then some Duke for which she carried no affection! She'd rather die than be a wealthy, prim gossip of a wife and mother, as was expected of her.

"What was his first name again?" She went on, as though she'd not heard her daughter. "Oh, what does it matter. You'll find out soon enough. He'll surely be there paying his respects for the Queen. Not that there's much respect to be paid, though." She laughed condescendingly. "Now turn, and let me rid you of that horrid necklace of yours."

Biting back insults, she turned to face her mother as she carelessly yanked off the simple trinket- a necklace made from a strip of leather, embellished with an assortment of silvery beads. Admittedly, Lady Helene was right- it didn't match the elegant blue dress at all, but Idunn didn't care. She liked the feel of having something at least a little rustic, something to keep her feet on the ground rather than get swept up in upright ways and end up like the woman who eyed her so critically.

"Now, chin up, and try to keep yourself looking presentable. With enough luck, you might trick that Duke into thinking you're worth his time."

She pressed her lips together in a thin line. "You just want me out of Arendelle, don't you?" She didn't even need an answer. She knew Helene, and could tell what she wanted. She wanted to benefit from her daughter's matrimony in terms of wealth- something they already had enough of, in Idunn's opinion- and nobility, yet have the girl and her husband as far away as possible.

"We're dangerously teetering between lower upper-class and upper middle-class," came the brusque response. "I want what's best for us."

"No, you want what's best for you." Idunn sneered. "Forget it." She stepped away, making a beeline for the foyer. "I'll be home tonight." Without another word, the heavy front door swung shut with a loud clunk between them.