Iduna of the Northuldra (Agnarr x Iduna)

Chapter 5

Agnarr stares blankly at his father, and I reach out to shake his hand. I smile at his perplexed expression. "I'm Iduna. It's a pleasure to meet you, sir."

He gives me a stern glance. "I am not a 'sir', I am royalty. You are to address me by 'your majesty'."

"I-I'm sorry sir- uh, I mean, your majesty-"

"And when you come into contact with royalty, you are to curtsy, not to shake my hand."

"Father-"

"Do not interrupt me, Agnarr, I am merely showing this girl her place. As a future king, you wouldn't want someone to come into your castle and disrespect you, and try to shake your hand when their's is clearly covered in dirt-"

"Father-"

His father stares him down. "Do not interrupt me."

Agnarr shrinks back. "Sorry..."

He sighs, putting his hands on his hips. "It's quite alright. What is it that you need?"

Agnarr looks down at his feet. "I - uh - well.."

"He was wondering if we could see the files on Arendelle. I was looking for information on my father. He was born here."

"Oh really? Your father's from Arendelle? And where are you from?"

"You see, that is a great question...."

He stares at me as I about have a mental breakdown.

"Are you from the Enchanted Forest?"

I give him two awkward thumbs up.

"Ah, I see. Interesting. I haven't seen one of your kind in years. Very nice to have one in my presence now."

"Thanks...?" It's as if he's seeing a zoo animal for the first time in years.

He reaches for a key on the wall next to him and places it in Agnarr's hand. "You can stay as long as you need to."

We walk down the hall to the spiral staircase that takes us to the front of the castle. Agnarr looks a little miffed.

"Are you okay?"

He nods, a small scowl on his face.

"You don't look ok."

"I'm fine. Are you okay? Was he too intense for you?"

I nod. "I'm okay. He was better than I thought he would be. I thought he'd kick me out."

"I did too. He usually isn't that nice to outsiders."

"Maybe it's because I'm part Arendellian."

He nods. "Maybe."

We take a right from the staircase toward another staircase that leads down toward an underground floor. The walls are covered with paintings of who I assume are deceased royals. My eyes linger on a painting of a woman who shares Agnarr's face.

"Why is she down here with the other dead people?"

He shrugs. "I mean, she's dead, isn't she?"

"Yeah, that's true, but she's still your mother. Shouldn't you have more paintings of her around the castle? "

We walk down more flights of stairs, and more and more paintings of his mother fill the walls.

"Are all of her paintings down here?" It makes me so sad to see all of these memories buried away like this. His mother holding him as a baby. His mother pushing him on the swings. His mother standing next to his father for a family portrait. Wouldn't he want to remember these?

"Yes. Father had them all removed when she died. I was upset at first, but I think this is for the best. I think about her less now, so I'm sad less now."

I stop on the steps, and Agnarr keeps going ahead of me. Then he stops when he realizes I'm not following him.

I sit down on the steps, and pat the spot next to me. He comes and sits next to me. I wrap my arm around his shoulders and pull his head onto mine.

"What is this for?"

"You're obviously upset, but you won't admit it. It's something we do back at home. I just want to remind you that there's someone here for you."

He stares at the steps, awkwardly. "Thanks....." He pulls me off of him and stands up. "But we're here for you, not me. Let's go."

I watch him, solemnly, as he descends toward the bottom of the stairs.

When we reach the bottom, we make it to a door. Agnarr takes out the key and unlocks it. He opens the door, and in our field of vision are some shelves. Rows and rows of shelves and cases.

My eyes sparkle with wonder as I take in all the Arendellian lore. It's like one of the museums my parents took me to as a young child.

There's beautifully crafted swords placed in glass cases. Drawers, armor, chests, safes...

"Wow! This is so cool!"

I press my hands against one of the glass cases, watching as the light bounces off the iron on the sword. The hilt has flowers carved into it, of all things. Not judging, just not something I expected to see.

I go to one of the drawers, and find a book. A really thick book with really old pages. It's in a language I don't understand.

"Hey, Agnarr, do you know what this says? Can you read this?" I look around the room, and he's nowhere to be found."

"Hey, uh, Agnarr? Are you hiding? Y'know, this isn't the best time to be playing hide and seek...."

I look under the desks, between the shelves. I look in closets to see if he's hiding between the wedding gowns and suits. I don't see him anywhere.

"What the heck, Agnarr?!"

I give up. I decide to go to a set of drawers in the corner, and there are some scrolls in there, each labelled with a year and a surname.

I go through the drawer and look through all the scrolls.

Kitchener, Astrid; January 1812.
Johansen, George; December 1810.
Hansen, John; June 1807.

These are all so recent. Think, when would your father have been born...

He's probably no older than 40, so perhaps he is 36...

He was born somewhere around 1776.

I go through the rest of the scrolls, and they're all for after 1800. I go to the next drawer, and they're all labeled for 1799 and before. I go through a bunch of them, before finally making it to the 1770s. Nilsen, Henry, Nilsen, Henry, Nilsen, Henry, c'mon, c'mon, c'mon.....

Nothing. There are no results for Nilsen, Henry born in 1776. How? This is where he was born....

Maybe I got the year wrong? Maybe he's older or younger than I anticipated...

I'm such a terrible daughter, I don't even know when my own father was born...

I go through the scrolls again, frantically trying to find my father's-

"HEY!"

I turn around, and my eyes widen to see a hoard of soldiers blocking the staircase.

"YOU NEED TO COME WITH US. NOW."