When Professor Milo agrees to take on mentoring Princess Elsa, he had only thought about the high honour and prestige of the task. Unfortunately, teaching Princess Elsa created an unexpected problem. He did not anticipate an unending flow of antagonistic questions and a stubbornness to fight for her views on history. The Princess was not like his former pupils. He wasn't sure if he was grateful for the challenge or grateful that he was on first-name basis with the apothecary, who provided excellent medicines for his increasingly frequent headaches.
"Princess," he groaned, rubbing his temples with one hand and holding his willow branch in another. "You are misunderstanding. There are reasons for these battles, reflected in the chosen strategy..."
Pacing back and forth, he found his momentum again. "Battles serve a purpose most of the time. When a strong-held belief is challenged or attacked, a battle is seen as a way of defending and increasing the faith in that belief. How strongly that belief is held determines how hard we fight and what strategy to take."
Elsa sat on the edge of her seat, her brow furrowed, contemplating the meaning behind the words. Not necessarily agreeing, but at least paying attention. "Professor that's what I don't understand. If you're in a battle with someone, don't you want to win? Wouldn't you fight to win, regardless of what has been challenged?"
"Yes, you want to win, but sometimes you act more reserved or cautious. Winning is important, but you still need to protect your kingdom, your people, and your integrity. Some of the older battle strategies focused on an individual's bravery, baiting the other side into one-on-one combat. this often turned into self-sacrifice or ambushes, and the technique was abandoned. Today, we fight in groups."
Both their heads turned when a third voice entered their conversation.
"Interesting strategies, yes. Those are involved in leading a kingdom as well. Thank you, Professor Milo." The king walked into the room and motioned for his steward to close the door behind them.
It was true that he interfered with her lessons, though he frequently listened at the door for a moment or two. Elsa and Professor Milo shared a look of surprise.
Sweeping his crimson velvet robe behind him, he walked over to the window and pushed the drapery open. The soft breeze rustled through his hair and his warm sunshine snuck into the room.
Professor Milo's face reddened with embarrassment. Princess Elsa sat still, her arms folded onto her desk, hiding the sketches that had kept her busy for most of her lessons.
"Such a beautiful day, isn't it, Professor?" King Agnarr asked mischievously.
Professor Milo nodded in agreement stammering and adjusting his wand. Nervous tension built in his stomach and sweat beaded on his temples.
King Agnarr turned his head to look up at the teacher with a smile, still holding onto the window sill. "Professor, why don't you enjoy the sunshine today? I will continue Elsa's studies this afternoon."
Neither the professor nor Princess Elsa knew what to say, but Elsa didn't wait for more instructions. As confusion and relief washed over the professor's face, Elsa glowed. Closing her notes quickly, making sure her drawings were still covered, she stood up and walked to her father's side.
"Ready?" The king asked, holding his arm out.
They left the room quietly, leaving Professor Milo scratching his forehead.
Her skin tingled in the sunlight. They walked from the centre of the castle across the courtyard to a tower that stretched to the sky. Elsa stole a quick look over her shoulder and smiled at Jack. He stood by the wishing fountain, helping organise and direct the long line of farmers and villagers who were here to see the king. She watched him laugh and handsome dropped juggling balls to an entertainer. She chuckled as the balls escaped Jack's hands and fell into the fountain. He beamed as his eyes found hers. Her father pulled her arm forward, twisting her head around.
"Have you ever been to this tower before?" He asked.
She looked up at him, eye twinkling. "Of course not."
The castle towers were considered off-limits, so naturally, Elsa and Hiccup had tried to explore them since they'd learned to walk. They've climbed the castle from top to bottom, playing games, sharing adventurous and misdeeds, and growing familiar with every room except the towers. They had always been locked, sealed off from the young royals.
"Are we going up there?" She asked, too quickly to hide her eagerness.
"Yes, my dear, we're going up there," he replied, smiling. His voice sounded happy, but his eyes were guarded.
Her heart started to pound, excitement building as she held her breath, waiting for the click of the key turning in the door. When the door opened, she ventured a breath, only to inhale a whiff of stale air.
King Agnarr grabbed a torch and started up the steps, leaving Elsa below, looking up into the dark spiral of stairs above her.
His footsteps quieted to a soft tap, tap, tap as she lingered below.Wonder filled her eyes, and her fingertips swept across the cool cobblestones. A smirk grew on her face as she felt dust and dodged cobwebs. The magic of the tower unfolded around her. She had always imagined this tower as a hidden fortress, full of secrets and treasure. Now those secrets were unlocking all around her. Lost in thought, she heard her name.
A small wave of light flickered from the torch above. She imagined her father's furrowed brow as he wondered what was taking her so long. Elsa lifted the bottom of her dress and ran up the dark spiral.
The light dimmed and the air thickened as she approached the top. Silvers of light shone through boarded windows, highlighting the tower room's hidden treasures. Elsa's heart races as she looked around open-mouthed. she thought she caught a glimmer in her father's eyes before he turned around.
Her father rarely showed his emotions, and Elsa didn't want to press the issue.
"What is this room?" She asked, trying to take in every feature of the dark, dusty chamber.
"This room," her father started to say. "This room," he repeated pausing to open the shutters before leaning against the wall. His eyes stared past her.
"This room was what, father?" Elsa pushed, not understanding his strange behaviour and the depth in his eyes as he looked at her.
He looked back down at her and smiled again. Pushing the velvet sleeves of his rove up his arm, King Agnarr continued, "this room is yours."
"What?" She asked. "This is mine?" Her voice squeaked as she spun around to take it all in again, seeing it anew.
"Yes," he answered, trying hard to hide the shakiness of his voice and tears welling up in his eyes. "The room was originally your mother's, and now it is yours."
Elsa looked around her tacking in her new surroundings but also giving her father some space. She had only seen him cry once before, the day she had returned after he thought she's been killed and she wasn't ready to see that again. A king or prince or princess had to be strong and unrelenting, providing the stability, strength, and encouragement the subjects needed. Raw emotions were kept secret, and displays like this discomforted them both.
The sunlight peaked in through the window in rays of light the corners of the room shrouded in darkness. The chamber was still tidy. A bed was on the left side of the room, just out of the sunlight reach. Blue embroidered pillows were lined up against the back wall, a testament to hours of focused work. A wooden table stood next to the bed underneath a cobweb-covered candle, layers of dust blanketing what seemed to be a book. A silver figurine of a dragon leaning against the leather-bounded book caught her attention, as did a single dried rose. Its white petals were dry intact as if time had simply forgotten it.
Elsa walked around, trying to imagine what it was like when her mother lived in this room. What had she during the day? What had she thought of at night before she went to bed? She sat down on the edge of the bed and crinkled her nose as a cloud of dust and dirt jumped into the air.
"Father," Elsa said, bringing his focus back to the present. "Why did she have this room? Didn't she have one in the centre of the castle?"
"Yes, she did." King Agnarr stroked his beard. "You mother was more to me than just a wife and Queen. She was my dearest friend and most trusted adviser." He leaned against the far wall as if a great weight was bearing down on him. "From the day that we met at the royal ball to the day that we married the following spring, we were inseparable. We weren't allowed to be together until the wedding, but we refused to be far apart, so Pabbie, one of my advisers, suggested this tower." His eyes glimmered.
He sat down next to Elsa. "We were so in love, but our wedding was delayed because my parents assured me that there were other practicalities to work out before it could take place. Your mother lives here so we could be close. I was never allowed up here. After we married, she wanted to keep it as her study and reading room, and I respected that. This is my first time here, too."
He paused and looked into Elsa's eyes, smiling. "I imagine that's where you get some of your stubbornness. Most women were not skilled in reading or articulating strategies-your mother, though, she was the best. She wanted to make a mark on the kingdom as much I did. She continued t learn from Pabbie and her tutors and helped create the peace you saw in the kingdom today. I never knew what she did up here, but this was her retreat, her escape, her study, and her refuge. It was a treasure to her, and I know you will treasure it too." He folded his hands in his lap and looked into her face, searching for something.
Elsa didn't know what to do or say. She had never been given something like it before. This was more than a gift; it was a memory of her mother, something to share with the past. She wrapped her arms around her father's neck and held on for a long time.
"Oh, one more thing, Elsa," he said. He moved her arms from around his neck and walked over to the window. "I want to show you your wedding gift." He guided her to a window, a childlike grin spreading across his face.
She stepped onto a pile of books by the window and peered outside. She gasped.
The view was breathtaking, the perfect panorama of the outlying countryside. She could see the village sprawling out below them, people wandering around like ants, the bright banners of the tournament grounds waving in the distance. The blue mountains spread to the east, and in the west, the great forest loomed. Caught up in the beauty and the silence of the world around her, Elsa found it hard to concentrate on her father's words. Tearing her eyes away from the landscape, she looked at her father, who paced back and forth, describing the different portions of the kingdom.
"As you know, there are four distinct regions in the kingdom. The great forest is to the west, the exiled lands and deserts to the east, the dragon's lair and the bay to the south, and Dragon's Gate to the north, with many territories and places along the way."
Elsa nodded absentmindedly.
"Well, beyond Dragon's Gate is a small village and uncharted territory." Elsa stretched to see where he was pointing. The arch of Dragon Gate was visible in the far distance against the horizon. It was said to be where the last dragons had hatched.
Elsa's eyebrows rose as her father continued talking.
"That area beyond Dragons Gate is to be yours," King Agnarr said, his face flushed with pride.
All she could do was look at him, then off in the distance, then back to him. Her heart felt heavy and too big for her chest. "Thank you, father," she managed, though her words seemed small in comparison to his gift.
The warm breeze continued to blow over her face. Off the distance, Dragon's Gate seemed to shine brighter, flickering as if winking at her.