**Chapter 1: The Fateful Voyage**

The biting wind whipped through Iduna's brown hair, which was neatly secured in a coronet braid, as she stood at the bow of the ship, her eyes fixed on the horizon. The vessel, sturdy and reliable, had been her home for weeks now, carrying her across the treacherous waters to Ahtohallan, the mystical river of knowledge. Iduna, Queen of Arendelle, had embarked on this perilous journey with a singular purpose: to understand the extent of her daughter Elsa's powers. The young queen's abilities had grown stronger, and Iduna hoped that Ahtohallan's ancient wisdom would provide her with the answers she so desperately sought. As the ship navigated the choppy seas, Iduna felt a sense of trepidation wash over her. The crew, seasoned and skilled, seemed undaunted by the turbulent waters, but Iduna's instincts told her that this voyage would not be without its challenges. She recalled the countless nights she had spent worrying about Elsa's powers, and how they might affect their kingdom. Her husband, Agnarr, had always been supportive, but his passing had left a void in her life, and she felt the weight of responsibility on her shoulders. The sun began to set, casting a golden glow over the waves, when the storm hit. Dark clouds boiled on the horizon, their anvil-shaped towers reaching for the heavens. The winds howled, and the ship lurched violently, throwing Iduna off balance. She clung to the rail, her knuckles white with fear, as the crew scrambled to adjust the sails. The sound of crashing waves and creaking wood filled the air, and Iduna's stomach dropped as the ship rode the waves. The tempest raged on, its fury unrelenting. Iduna's world was reduced to the chaos around her: the crashing waves, the creaking wood, and the cries of the crew. She felt a wave of panic wash over her as the ship took on water, and she knew they were in grave danger. The storm was too powerful, and the ship too fragile. In an instant, the vessel was torn apart, its splintered remains scattered across the waves. Iduna felt herself tumbling through the air, her screams lost in the cacophony of the storm. She landed hard on the water, the impact knocking the breath from her lungs. Desperately, she clung to a piece of debris, her fingers locked in a death grip as the waves buffeted her about. As the storm slowly began to subside, Iduna's exhausted body succumbed to the relentless pounding of the sea. She lost consciousness, her head lolling back as she drifted on the currents. The sun's warm rays on her face roused Iduna from her torpor. Groggily, she opened her eyes to find herself washed up on a sandy beach, the remnants of the ship scattered along the shoreline. She lay there, her body battered and bruised, her mind foggy from the ordeal. As she struggled to sit up, a wave of dizziness washed over her, forcing her back onto the sand. Iduna took a few deep breaths, trying to clear her head. She assessed her situation, taking stock of her injuries. She was bruised and sore, but she seemed to have escaped any serious harm. With a Herculean effort, Iduna hauled herself to her feet, her gaze scanning the horizon for any sign of civilization. The coastline stretched out before her, a seemingly endless expanse of rocky shores and sandy beaches. She knew she had to find help, and fast, or risk succumbing to her injuries. As she stumbled along the beach, Iduna spotted a cluster of buildings in the distance. Smoke drifted lazily into the air, carrying the scent of cooking fires and baking bread. With a surge of hope, Iduna quickened her pace, her heart beating with excitement. She knew not what lay ahead, but she was determined to find refuge and safety in this strange, new world. The buildings grew larger, and Iduna saw that they were part of a small village. She stumbled towards the center of the village, her legs shaking beneath her. As she entered the village, she saw people going about their daily business, seemingly unaware of her presence. Iduna's eyes scanned the village, searching for someone to turn to for help. She spotted a group of villagers gathered near the center of the village, and she made her way towards them. As she approached, they turned to face her, their expressions a mix of curiosity and suspicion. Iduna stood tall, her royal bearing evident despite her disheveled appearance. She knew she had to make a good impression, or risk being turned away. "Please," Iduna said, her voice weak but determined. "I need help. I'm...I'm the Queen of Arendelle." The villagers exchanged skeptical glances, but one of them stepped forward, a kind-eyed old man with a warm smile. "You're a long way from home, Your Majesty," he said, his voice gentle. "We'll take you in, and tend to your wounds. You're safe now."