Iduna’s Journal

Note to readers: this story involves miscarriage.

Context: this takes place a few days before Queen Iduna and King Agnarr leave on their voyage across the Dark Sea toward Ahtohallan. 

“What are you doing, Mama?”

Iduna smiled, turning to see her eldest daughter’s face peering in through the doorway. She loved that her daughter, nearing adulthood, still called her Mama. Something in the girl’s tone warmed her heart. “I’m writing to my parents.”

“Would you tell me more?”

“I have not seen my parents for many years…” Iduna hesitated, staring off into space for a moment as she felt the deep sense of loss welling up in her chest. A tear gently slid from the corner of her eye, hovering on the top of her cheek before dropping to her lap. “And while I don’t know exactly what happened to them, it brings me comfort and peace to write to them every day.”

“What do you tell them?”

“Oh, a little bit of everything.” She tilted her head to the side as she often would when thinking of her past. “Mostly, though, I tell them about what I’m feeling.”

“Like when you’re sad?”

“Yes, especially then.” Iduna put her arm around Elsa’s hip and drew her close, the tip of her long braid brushed against Iduna’s ear. “Sometimes, it’s hard for me to talk about what I’m feeling. But, I know I can always tell them anything in my journal.”

“Wow, that’s really beautiful, Mama.” Her big eyes were filled with a measured hopeful eagerness that Iduna had come to associate with Elsa’s pain-ridden childhood. Iduna so wished she could lift the weight off of her daughter’s shoulders.

Iduna still struggled with their decision to keep the girls separated. But maybe, their upcoming trip would yield answers to her questions. Lying to everyone about where she and Agnarr were going was eating away at her insides. She didn’t like it. But she also felt she needed answers before furthering her daughter’s burden. I wish this were all so much easier. I have no idea what I’m doing. I feel like a fake and a terrible parent. I’ve failed my—

“I wonder who I would write to if I had a journal.” Elsa’s words cut through Iduna’s spiraling thoughts. 

Looking up at her eldest, she reoriented herself back to their conversation. Based on the look on Elsa’s face, Iduna guessed that her daughter might not have realized she had spoken those last words out loud. Because Elsa kept so much to herself and so often withdrew, Iduna had learned not to pry.

“How about we go down to Ms. Abbot’s papermill and see about making you a journal?” This felt like a better idea than following up on Elsa’s spoken thought.

Elsa’s eyes grew wide. “Oh! Yes, Mama, I would love to.”

“We will have to see what Ms. Abbot has in her stores. What do you say we venture over to her place now and see when we can schedule a time for us to make you a journal?”

Elsa nearly walked out of the room before her mother could join. While the youth was getting older and more somber, she still had a lot of eagerness within, particularly when there was a healthier thought pattern going on inside that head of hers. It certainly was not the same kind of enthusiasm as her sister. The differences and similarities between those two girls warmed her heart. There were good and beautiful things in this world, even if Iduna couldn’t feel it in every moment.

While it was probably more “Queenly” for Iduna to send a member of the castle staff to Ms. Abbot, it never felt right. She was a queen of the people and she would be a patron just like any other person in the kingdom.

As they walked through the town, Iduna noticed how Elsa was both extremely measured while also walking with a briskness that betrayed the mystical draw that this idea of a journal had presented. The young princess seemed far too stately sometimes. She would wave and smile, saying very little to the folk as they would bow during her passing.

No doubt, this powerful girl would grow into an incredible leader. I wonder what her path will look like..? She has so much passion and she’s so reserved. I guess she gets some of that from me. No doubt she struggles to feel true freedom when we’re hiding her powers. Focus, Iduna. I can talk to Agnarr more later. This won’t help replaying these thoughts right now. Let’s be present to Elsa and—

“Mmm, what’s that smell, Mama?” 

Iduna snapped out of her thoughts. “Uh,” she paused to comprehend what Elsa had just said. “Oh! Mmm—“

“Chocolate!” they both said in unison.

Their eyes met and they giggled.

Wow, this girl sure can bring me out of my thoughts and back to reality. She is such a light to me. I just hope that I can be a light for her, too.

They stopped by Fredrick’s to investigate the delightful aroma further. Him and his partner were renowned chocolatiers. While Iduna did love their chocolates, she could never quite believe how much they had managed to get a name for themselves. It seemed as though every dignitary that came to Arendelle always inquired to see if Fredrick’s chocolates would be served at whatever state event was happening.

The wind tugged at Elsa’s braid as they walked up the path to Ms. Abbot’s place. Iduna could never believe how much hair that girl had. What women from all over would give to have hair with so much volume.

The queen tapped on a window, “Myrna? We’re here to—“

“Iduna!!” A body collided with the Queen’s in a tight embrace. Pulling back suddenly, her cheeks red, Ms. Abbot bowed and said, “Excuse me, I mean, good day, your Majesty.” 

“Oh, Myrna Abbot! You delightful woman. We’ve been friends for years. I might be queen, but I’m still your friend. You can always call me by Iduna.”

Red patches formed on Myrna’s neck. Her pale skin never allowed her to hide even the slightest embarrassment. “Yes, your Maj—I mean, yes, Queen Iduna, I mean, Iduna! I get so flustered sometimes!”

All three ladies laughed. 

“What brings you up my side of town today?”

“Well,” Iduna looked to Elsa with a smile, “I was thinking it’s time for Elsa to get a journal.”

“Ahh, yes, I see.” Myrna’s face reflected a somber tenderness. 

There was something in the look on Myrna’s face that left Iduna questioning if she unintentionally told her friend about Elsa’s powers. But no, she hadn’t. Her and Agnarr had kept it a strict secret, only sharing with those who needed to know. The look in Myrna’s face made it seem as though the woman sensed the weight that Elsa carried. It was the kind of look that left you feeling a little less alone, a little less helpless to carry on despite the storm within. Wow, Iduna thought to herself, I’m so grateful to know this woman.

When Iduna was younger, she had spent many hours with Myrna, often in silence. On occasion, Iduna would share of the pains she felt, the darkness that would overtake her some days. Myrna had been one of Iduna’s closest confidants. Myrna was the best of friends, listening and never really offering advice. And even if she did have thoughts or opinions, she suggested them in ways that always left you feeling peace and loved.

It was Myrna, a few months back, who suggested to Iduna that she write to her parents. Coming from a long family line of papermaking, Myrna had heard her grandparents talk about how some things couldn’t be spoken but could be written. 

Myrna’s grandmother believed that it was important to write down the pains in our hearts so we could better find peace. She said the darkness within would sometimes lose a bit of its power when we write. Myrna shared that she hadn’t quite understood this growing up.

“When I was young, I wondered,” she told the queen, “How could writing something help and what is this darkness my grandmother speaks of?”

But then, one day Myrna was faced with a pain greater than she had ever experienced. It was the most excruciating physical and emotional pain she had ever felt in her life before and since. The day of the delivery of her first and only child was a nightmare. A day that started with eager anticipation ended in weeping and a funeral. Her son was stillborn, the umbilical cord wrapped around his neck.

After months of grieving that never felt like the pain would cease, she heeded the words of her grandmother. In an attempt to cope with the pain, Myrna started writing to her son every day. She told him about what she was doing and what she was feeling. She shared with him her pains and her joys. She would write about how she would see him in the way another boy played. She would tell him of the times when she thought she heard him in the laughter across a field.

While it did not take away her pain, it brought her peace. 

A few months ago, Myrna shared this story of writing to her son with Iduna. Iduna could feel her body relax as she sunk into the beautiful feeling of knowing Myrna trusted her with this intimate and personal story. The thoughtfulness allowed Iduna to lower her guard and truly consider what her friend was saying. 

As she listened, Iduna’s heartbeat had started to increase as she thought of writing to her parents. Over the years, she had learned that anytime her heart rate increased, that was usually a good sign that she should follow her instincts. While she didn’t know it would help, it just felt like the right thing to do.

Turning and looking at her friend with a hopeful expression, Iduna asked, “Can you show me how to make a journal so I can write to my parents?” 

Relief and mild surprise were written on Myrna’s face. Iduna smiled and took the hand of her friend who let a sigh in response, “Yes, my Queen, I mean—Iduna.” 

Thus, Myrna taught her Queen and friend to make paper and bind them together.

The two women bonded over their losses by writing together. They would sit in Myrna’s shop as the mill would churn linens in the clear spring water from the mountain. The only sounds you could hear were the swishing of water and scratching of pens on paper. 

Sometimes, Iduna would show up and they would hardly say a word. They didn’t need to. Some days were easy and you’d occasionally hear chatter and laughter. Other days were hard and they couldn’t muster the energy to say goodbye. 

“Come, let’s begin, my Princess.” Myrna started to lead Elsa into the papermill. 

“Oh!” Iduna started bashfully, her cheeks turning a soft red, “I didn’t expect you to be able to do this with us today. I certainly don’t want to intrude.”

“My Queen,” Myrna turned and said with a slight smile, “today, there is nothing more important than starting the process of getting this princess a book for her thoughts.”

The rest of the day, Myrna showed Elsa how the linens were cut into pieces and tossed into tubs. The mill wheel drove stirrers, churning the waters before the women dumped the materials into a wooden basin. From there, they would separate layers with a sieve and shake until the cellulose fibers were evenly spread.

Next, they would take this sheet and lay it on felt, repeating the process until dozens were stacked. Then, they would use a heavy press to remove the water. Finally, they hung the sheets from the ceiling to dry.

“And that is how you make real paper, my young princess! You will find others using a new process where they make paper from trees. And while there is nothing wrong with that, this yields, in my not-so-humble opinion,” she said with a smirk, “the finest material for writing our sacred thoughts. I’d want nothing less for you.”

All three of them had a mess on their clothing. Iduna and Elsa hadn’t changed out of their royal dresses before venturing out from the castle. Laughing, the three women poured some hot tea and took a seat to admire the fruit of their labor. 

Looking up at the hanging sheets in the next room, Myrna’s lips formed a tender smile, “Come back in a few days and we will select the sheets for your journal and bind it together.”

With a dramatic sigh, Iduna looked over the top of her cup at the other two, “Alas, I will be away with Agnarr, so I will miss out on the ceremonious binding of the pages. When we return, I imagine there will already be ink on the pages. And at that point, I don’t expect to read a word of it. What you write belongs to you alone, Elsa.”

Looking over, Iduna noticed something in Elsa’s posture. She had a thought rolling around in her head that she wanted to share but wasn’t. With time, Iduna had learned that the best way to create space for Elsa was to allow for silence. Elsa was used to silence and it seemed to be a powerful tool to allow her to coalesce her thoughts into something she was ready to share. Prodding and asking questions often left Elsa less desiring to speak.

So, she sipped her tea and allowed her daughter space to be herself and speak if and when she might be ready.

“I noticed Mother’s journal had a deep maroonish-purple cover. I assume it was made from a special dye. Do you think we could dye the cover of my journal blue?”

Iduna smiled to herself, hiding the expression behind her cup. It didn’t always happen like this. But when it did, she delighted in knowing she had done something right for her daughter today by allowing the silence and space to gather. With the relentless thoughts that Iduna was a failure and a terrible mother, moments like this were like cool water on parched lips.

“Ah, the cover, yes.” Myrna’s face got a far off look. “Hmm, yes, I believe I have one jar of materials to make blue dye left.” Standing up, she stepped into the next room. A few clinks and movement of jars on wood could be heard. Returning to the room, she said with a smile, “This will be the perfect use of these dyes. I always love the blue dresses you wear, Elsa.”

“Thank you, Ms. Abbot. That would be delightful.”

“You can call me Myrna, my dear.” The woman looked over and smiled. Nodding at the dirt on the royal’s clothing, she commented, “It looks like the maids at the castle have some washing to do.”

“Oh, I like to help them with it! Mother is always saying that it is important for us to be of the people and to never think we are above their work.” She smiled a bit abashedly. She often did that when she had shown eagerness. “I’m actually scheduled to do laundry tomorrow, so it looks like this will be perfect.” 

~~

A few hours later, Elsa was walking back to the castle with her mother. Based on the look on her face, Iduna guessed there was a heavy weight on the youth’s mind. Iduna thought she saw the same eagerness from earlier in the day at conflict with a life filled with pain. 

She was grateful that she followed her instincts to take Elsa to Myrna’s. It seemed like she had done more than one thing right today. That was a nice feeling. That would make for a wonderful thing to share with her parents when she continued her journal entry that night.

“Mama, it’s hard for you to think about your parents.” It started as a question and ended as a statement.

Iduna slowed and looked out across the sea. Waves of feelings washed over her. She seemed to be experiencing that same mixture of eagerness and pain. Ah, I guess she gets some of that from me. “Yes, my love, it is. But that doesn’t mean I shouldn’t. So that’s why I write to them. It reminds me that they’re here with me.”

“Can you tell me more about that?” 

Iduna looked at her daughter, tilted her head, and smiled. Elsa had an incredible ability to feel another’s emotions. The girl had a gift: she could build bridges to the hearts of others through rich and powerful connections. I hope that one day she is more free from the demons within to share that gift of love with herself.

“I mean that they live on within me and you and Anna. Even if they aren’t here in a way where I can touch them, they live on. I see them in you, when you smile. I can hear them in Anna’s laugh. I am reminded of the importance of learning to love myself when I feel the wind blow across my cheeks.”

“Why does the wind make you think of that?”

“Hmm,” The left side of her lips tugged a gentle smile as Iduna tilted her head and paused for a moment. A leaf twirled through the air before settling into her hand. “It reminds me of home and of many joys I had in my youth.” 

“That’s beautiful, Mama. Thank you for sharing.”

————

Author’s Note

I wanted to tell the origin story behind Elsa’s journal. I began by writing her first journal entry which takes place after she receives word that her parents have died. However, that journal entry needed context, so I wrote a longer opening context about how she discovers the journal amidst her pain, shock, and depression following the news of her parents’ deaths. As I wrote, I was collecting more and more questions: how did she get the journal in the first place? What would make it more compelling for her to write? And, most of all, why would she spend years writing to her parents versus journaling thoughts?

As a result, I went back to write a story that would involve her and her mother. I really like Iduna’s character that we see at the start of Frozen II. As I began to write a short backstory, it got longer and longer and here we are. I’m quite proud of this story and feel I captured a beautiful relationship between the two.

As always, my ideas are influenced by my dear friend DaimonLyra. Their Frozen Moments fanfiction set the stage for my deeper thinking about Elsa’s character. They also generously took time to read through this before I published it, pointing to a series of issues with POV. Thank you!