The Quest For Hope

The Escape: Chapter Sixteen

Jack woke up shivering. His feet froze and his clothes clung to him. A night's sleep hadn't helped him dry off or forget falling into the lake. Rubbing his eyes, he dragged the gritty dirt over himself with his sleeves. 

Sitting up, he hunched closer to the fire. As he warmed his hands, his mind drifted back to the lake's images and the magic that haunted his dreams. Lost in thought, he didn't see the trolls until they surrounded him. He tried to speak, but Pabbie silenced him with a look. 

The trolls stood stiffly behind Pabbie, hiding their emotions in rigidity.

Pabbie squinted through the trees to the morning sun as he spoke. "I trust you found what you are looking for?"

Jack nodded.

"I hope you understand that you have seen something special, something only a handful of people within or outside the trolls community are privy to. We expect you to honour the secrecy. But now, Sir Jack, Knight of Arendelle, you must leave. Take the knowledge you have gained and make your choices."

One of the younger trolls handed him the reins to his horse. He continued to star at the trolls, dumbfounded.

Pabbie shook his head. "I am sorry to rush you, but the king needs you. We have spoken with your horse, and he will carry you back as fast as he can. You must hurry."

Jack didn't understand. He was still tired and his head arched from sleep on the hard ground. "I don't-" he stated.

"Go," Pabbie said, his cloak glistened in the morning sun. "Go," he repeated as he disappeared back into the forest. The rest of the gathered trolls stood still, Waiting for Jack to move.

He let out a deep breath and gather his bag. He knew better than to argue with a troll. Even his horse neighed impatiently.

"I'm coming, I'm coming," he mumbled.

Turning to thank the trolls, he watched as they methodically erased all evidence of his presence. On smoothed the soft dirt, another scattered the char-coaled wood, and the last leaned over the lake's edge. 

Jack secretly wished the troll would fall in.

"God day, trolls. Meeting you was an experience I shall never forget." and with a strong kick, he and his horse were off, riding back to Arendelle. 

He rode hard all day, surprised at their fast pace. Even buoyed with the magic of the trolls, there was a lot of distance to cover.

The news of Princess Elsa reached him before he was even halfway there. Men from the outlying territories told him about the king's grief and Price Hans's story. The whole kingdom mourned for its princess.

"The mirror was right," he swore, kicking his heels into his horse. Anger burned within him. He needed to see the king.

The mountains disappeared behind him as he raced across the flatlands. The monotonous landscape blended together in his unsettled thoughts. All at once, he looked up, amazed. On the horizon, the broad castle stood, its banners waving. He was almost home.

The horse stomped through the surrounding village, past the thatched homes and tournament grounds, until it stopped neath the imposing castle gates.

Throwing the reins to the young boy standing at the gates, he races toward the throne room. His boots barely made a sound as he flew through the courtyard. The display cart fro the bakery tipped over, knocking loaves of bread and fresh apples to the ground. Men and women jumped out of his way as he pressed through the crowd. He didn't stop to explain himself or apologise for the smashed goods. The only apology he had was for the king, for not finding the princess in time. 

A gasp ran out around him as he dashed into the throne room. No one moved when he approached the king. He slowed and looked around. Sheets shrouded the stained glass windows, hiding the chambers in shadows. The silver banners have been lowered, and the portraits on the back wall were covered. Everyone stood to the side, eyes downcast, mouths closed. No one uttered a word or moved, afraid of disturbance the sanctity of the king's grief.

King Agnarr sat on the throne with a wrinkled robe and bloodshot eyes. The midnight blue gown dangled over his legs, and fresh tears rolled down his cheeks.

Jack approached the throne slowly and knelt before the king. "King Agnarr, I have failed you. I could not protect our princess. I am sorry." He waited for a response, but none was given. The king buried his face back in the dress and wept.

Jack stood back up, feeling the sting of the silent reaction, and retreated to the door. He didn't know what he's expected, but he understood the king's reaction. For the first moment since hearing the news, he felt it in his heat. The princess that he loved was gone.

Excusing himself from the throne room, he wandered through the gardens. He found himself remembering the brief moments they had shared together. He sat on the marble bench in the rose garden and took a deep breath. His fingertips brushed against the smooth, cold marble, and he smelled the fresh scent of roses, Elsa's favourite flower. Memories of the knighting ceremony and the single white rose made him smile.

He remembered the tournament, watching her as he lined up, memorising her image and grace. The crowds had noticed him too, cheering his every win and revealing in his challenges. 

Most important, he remembered her eyes, those bright blue eyes of hers that stared back at him, challenging him, leading him, haunting him in his dreams.

He sat there, full of longing and strange feeling that he was missing something. Something big. 

A moment of clarity hit him. The dress! Princess Elsa hadn't been wearing the dress. She had worn it to the tournament but traded with the village girl. She wasn't the one wearing the dress!

Jack jumped up, hope filling his heart."She alive!" Jack said to himself. "She's alive! There's still a chance."

He bolted from the courtyard. 

The young boy at the gates handed him back the reins. Other nights called to him, but he didn't stop. He couldn't stop. He was going to save his love. He kicked his feet hard, urging the horse forward as the gates slammed shut behind him.

Before long, he found himself at the edge of the forest. Something stirred inside him, he knew he was where he needed to be. He waved in and out of trees, kicking his horse to go faster and faster, feeling the branches whip across his face, stinging his skin. It didn't matter. Nothing mattered anymore except for finding Elsa.