**Chapter 1: The Unlikely Shore**

The icy waters had claimed the ship, dragging it under the surface with a merciless grip. Iduna, the queen of Arendelle, had fought with all her might to survive, but the force of the sea had been too strong. She remembered the sound of her husband's voice, King Agnarr's, calling out to her, his words lost in the chaos. The memory of her children's faces, Elsa and Anna, flashed before her eyes as the darkness closed in. But fate, it seemed, had other plans for Iduna. Instead of succumbing to the depths, she felt a jolt of pain as her body hit the shore. Groggily, she opened her eyes to find herself on a foreign beach, the sky above a brilliant blue, and the air crisp with a scent she didn't recognize. Her head pounded, and her body ached all over, but she was alive. As she struggled to sit up, a group of people approached her, speaking in a dialect she didn't understand. They wore warm clothing, and their faces were etched with concern. One of them, an older woman with a kind face, knelt beside her and gently touched her shoulder. Iduna tried to speak, but her voice was hoarse from the saltwater and exhaustion. The woman smiled and offered her a flask of water, which Iduna gratefully accepted. As she drank, she noticed the group's curious glances at her clothing, now tattered and soaked. The woman, seemingly understanding, nodded and took Iduna's hand, helping her to stand. Iduna stumbled, but the woman held her upright, supporting her as they walked towards a nearby village. The thatched roofs of the houses and the smoke rising from the chimneys indicated a small, close-knit community. As they entered the village, a majestic figure emerged from the largest house, his long strides eating up the distance. He was tall, with a strong jawline and piercing eyes that seemed to see right through her. His dark hair was flecked with silver, and a regal bearing commanded respect. "Ah, Gerda, what do we have here?" he asked, his voice deep and commanding. The older woman, Gerda, explained in the local dialect, and Iduna caught snippets of their conversation. The man's eyes widened as he took in her appearance, and a look of recognition crossed his face. "By the gods," he whispered, his eyes locked on hers. "You can't be... Iduna, Queen of Arendelle?" Iduna's eyes widened in surprise. How did this stranger know her name? The king's expression turned thoughtful, and he nodded to himself. "I am King Westergaard, ruler of the Southern Isles. You are a long way from home, Your Majesty." Iduna's mind reeled as King Westergaard offered his arm, supporting her as they walked towards the largest house in the village. She had so many questions, but for now, she was at the mercy of this kind stranger. As they entered the warm, cozy house, Iduna spotted a large map on the wall, depicting the surrounding islands and the frozen fjords of her homeland. A spark of hope ignited within her. She might be a long way from Arendelle, but with King Westergaard's help, she could find a way back. Or so she thought. The story will continue based on your directions. What would you like to happen next?