**Chapter 3: The Southern Isles**

The sun was setting over the horizon as Iduna washed up on the shores of the southern isles. She lay there, her body battered and bruised, her mind reeling with the events that had transpired. The shipwreck, the loss of Agnarr, and the uncertainty of her situation swirled together in a chaotic mix of emotions. As she struggled to her feet, Iduna spotted a group of locals approaching her. They were dressed in simple, yet practical clothing, and their faces were a mixture of curiosity and concern. Iduna's instincts told her to be cautious, but she also knew that she needed help. The locals surrounded her, speaking in a language she didn't understand. Iduna tried to communicate with them, but her voice was hoarse from the saltwater and her exhaustion. One of the locals, an older man with a kind face, stepped forward and took charge. He spoke to Iduna in a gentle tone, using simple words and gestures to convey his intentions. Iduna, sensing that he meant no harm, allowed him to lead her to a nearby village. As they walked, Iduna took in her surroundings. The southern isles were a far cry from the frozen fjords of Arendelle. The air was warm and humid, and the vegetation was lush and green. Iduna's eyes widened as she spotted exotic birds and colorful flowers. The village was small, with thatched roof huts and wooden buildings. The locals led Iduna to a large, ornate house, where a stately man with a commanding presence awaited her. "Welcome, stranger," he said, his voice deep and resonant. "I am King Westergaard, ruler of the southern isles. I see that you have been through a great ordeal. Please, tell me your story." Iduna hesitated, unsure of how much to reveal. But there was something about King Westergaard that put her at ease. She began to tell him about the shipwreck, about Agnarr's death, and about her own survival. As she spoke, Iduna noticed that King Westergaard's expression changed. His eyes narrowed, and his brow furrowed in concern. "Your story sounds familiar," he said, his voice measured. "I think I may know who you are, Iduna. You are the queen of Arendelle, are you not?" Iduna's eyes widened in surprise. How did King Westergaard know her name? She nodded, and King Westergaard's face softened in compassion. "I am sorry for your loss," he said. "You are welcome to stay in the southern isles, and I will do everything in my power to help you." Iduna felt a wave of gratitude wash over her. She had been so focused on survival that she hadn't considered the possibility of finding refuge. As she looked at King Westergaard, she knew that she had found a temporary haven, and a chance to regroup and plan her next move. King Westergaard ordered his servants to prepare a room for Iduna, and to bring her food and water. As she followed them, Iduna caught a glimpse of herself in a mirror. Her hair was a tangled mess, and her skin was pale and bruised. But her eyes, though tired, still sparkled with a fierce inner light. She knew that she had a long road ahead of her, but for the first time since the shipwreck, Iduna felt a glimmer of hope. She would survive, and she would find a way to reclaim her place in the world.