I want to thank shittylifelessons for editing this piece for me.
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The full moon was shining over the fjord on another cool autumn night. From a tall grey castle balcony carved from local granite, a young woman looked on with long hard eyes. Her shimmering platinum blond hair, almost as white as snow, hung over her shoulder wrapped like a loose chain. She wore an elegant nightgown that was a brilliant shade of blue and white with gold-threaded stitching. Though her delicate blue moccasins kept her feet warm, her fingers were ice cold from leaning over the balcony, lost in her thoughts. Though the woman appeared to have delicate facial features and a slender body, her piercing blue eyes told a different story.
This woman was the princess Aurora Frost, the last of her name, though that was not always the case. The Frosts had come from a long, noble line that went back generations to the first people to settle the region. Though her kingdom was small, it was rich in resources, whether it be the schools of cod, salmon, and herring that fed the people year-round. It had lumber for ships and buildings, as well as an endless supply of ice, which was used to preserve food as well as was prized in the southern kingdoms. House Frost was respected for keeping their word and supporting their allies, a trait that would eventually lead to their house's downfall.
A few years before Aurora was born, a civil war had broken out in the central kingdoms. Though House Frost was isolated from this turmoil, they were honor-bound to help the great king in times of crisis. In the years-long conflict Aurora's grandfather, uncles, and many other men of White Peak left for war, never to return. Leaving only her father, River Frost to rule their small kingdom. He soon married a noble lady from a neighboring land that his father had made a promise for his hand in marriage. Lysa was a sweet and loving woman but was sickly and often bedridden. Though she was able to bless River with a son and a daughter, Lysa's condition never improved.
Fate would strike its cruel hand again when a plague from the mainland snuck its way onto the fjord taking her Father and younger brother's lives among many others, leaving only Aurora and her mother Lysa to rule.
Though Lysa Frost was queen regent, she was physically unfit to rule. Lysa was barely able to hold court one or two days a fortnight. This meant that Princess Aurora was given permission at the tender age of 16 to rule in her stead as hand of the queen. Aurora was forced to grow up fast and leave behind her childish desires for the sake of her people. This weight only became heavier when at 19 her mother passed away. Most believed it was due to her life long health issues, though Aurora knew it was from a broken heart.
Over the next five years, princess Frost became known as Lady Frost of White Peak, ruling with a sense of cold unwavering logic with little concern for emotions. She swore to never make the same foolish decisions that had doomed her bloodline. Often refusing requests to join alliances and marriage due to honor and past relations.
Even rejecting the simpler pleasure of life, considering them only to be distractions. This eventually got her nickname, Aurora the Frost Glacier, though if anyone were caught saying it would get a few lashes. Though this did give Aurora an aura of bitter dominance, for the most part, her people were well-taken care for much like her father and his father before him.
Aurora openly refused to marry and hand the reigns of her kingdom over to some buffoon's offspring that did not mean they did not try. At least once a season following the spring melt after her mothers passing, some young prince or lord would enter White Peak's harbor and attempt to woo Lady Aurora.
They brought chests of riches, boasted of their feats of strength and courage, as well as tried to push the commercial or military advantages of a union. All of these things Lady Aurora would reject with a cold and blunt certainty. After a few days to a week of unyielding rejection, these suitors would stock up and sail home with their tales between their legs. This pattern continued for years until most kingdoms and lordships got the hint and only communicated to work out trade agreements.
That was until a cool fall day when the pattern was broken. It was reported that a small fleet of Viking longships with a circular sun crest on the sails were making their way toward White Peak's harbor. When Lady Frost learned of this, she ordered the guards to be at the ready for anything. Yet when the ships approached they gave the signal for peace and were allowed to disembark. Though the ships were full of roughly fifty burly men, a young man with shoulder-length chestnut-colored hair led them.
He wore a quality fox fur coat attached to a fine tanned sealskin cloak. Underneath his cloak was a refined red tunic with two leather straps that crossed his chest and connected to his belt. The man also wore a finely stitched pair of trousers and shin-high black leather boots to complete the ensemble. On his right forearm was a small sun crest tattoo like on the sails, which was also etched onto the leather on his chest, boots, and hip satchel. His face was clean-shaven and had haunting gold-green eyes as well as a warm smile that was almost always in a permanent grin. The man introduced himself as Thorfinn Solarljos, son of Thors of the Icefyre Isles and he wished to have an audience with Lady Frost.
Thorfinn and four of his men were allowed to enter the halls of White Peak. His men carrying an obnoxiously large ornate chest, which required each man to hold onto a pole to carry.
When they arrived in the hall, Thorfinn looked around, assessing the room. As to be expected from the woman known as the Frost Glacier, the room felt large and cold literally and figuratively. The grey stone pillars held only two things, a torch to light the space and a blue and white banner with three white stars. The ornate stained glass did allow more light into the space, but the space still gave a very unwelcoming feeling. There were only a few servants milling about, speaking in hushed whispers. At the far end of the hall, Lady Frost and her queen's guard were waiting for the newly arrived guests.
When Thorfinn got closer he marveled at her site. She appeared like the ice queen of his childhood stories, beautiful as if she was carved from the purist mountain ice. Her small intricate tiara sat on top of her stone-cold face, with her almost translucent hair wrapped around her right shoulder. Aurora's sky blue dress was formal regal attire but did not emphasize any of her womanly features. Her deep blue eyes watched the men approach like a hawk stalking its prey.
When they had walked about three-quarters of the way down the great hall, they were ordered to stop and state their business. With a level of pageantry, Thorfinn did an over-exaggerated courtesy bow and introduced himself and his party. He then stated he had heard rumors of a queen in a land of ice that could not yield to any man, whose beauty knew no equal and knew he had to meet such an interesting individual.
