**Chapter 3: Wrecked on the Southern Shores**

Queen Iduna of Arendelle stood on the deck of her ship, her brown hair whipping about her face as the wind howled through the sails. Her eyes, a deep shade of blue, sparkled with determination as she gazed out at the vast expanse of sea before her. She had been searching for Ahtohallan, the mythical river of wisdom, for months, and she would not be deterred. The crew had warned her of the treacherous sea conditions, but Iduna was undaunted. She had always been drawn to the unknown, and the promise of Ahtohallan's wisdom was too great to resist. Besides, she had a feeling that her daughters, Elsa and Anna, would benefit from her discovery. As the sun began to set, Iduna descended into the cabin, her movements fluid and confident. She had spent the day overseeing the navigation, ensuring that they stayed on course. The crew respected her, and she had earned their trust. The night wore on, the sea growing increasingly turbulent. Iduna tried to sleep, but the rocking of the ship made it impossible. She tossed and turned, her mind racing with thoughts of Ahtohallan and what secrets she might uncover. Suddenly, a loud crash shook the cabin, and Iduna was thrown to the floor. She scrambled to her feet, her heart racing, as the crew rushed past her, shouting and struggling to keep the ship afloat. The storm was intensifying, the winds howling like a pack of wolves. Iduna rushed back on deck, her hair streaming behind her. The ship was taking on water, the waves crashing over the bow. She saw the crew fighting to keep the ship afloat, but it was clear that they were losing. With a surge of fear, Iduna realized that they were going down. She looked around, desperate for a lifeline, but there was nothing. The sea was vast and unforgiving, and she was at its mercy. The ship lurched violently, and Iduna was swept overboard. She fell into the water, the shock of the cold taking her breath away. She clung to a piece of debris, fighting to stay afloat as the waves crashed around her. The night was long and terrifying, Iduna clinging to her liferaft as the storm raged on. She was exhausted, her muscles screaming in protest, but she refused to give up. She had to survive, for herself and for her daughters. As the first light of dawn crept over the horizon, Iduna spotted land. She was washed up on the shores of the Southern Isles, exhausted and battered. She lay there, her eyes closed, feeling the warmth of the sun on her face. As she drifted in and out of consciousness, Iduna became aware of voices around her. She opened her eyes to find a group of fishermen staring at her in shock. One of them, an older man with a kind face, knelt beside her. "Your Majesty," he said, his voice full of reverence. "We didn't expect to find... someone like you here." Iduna's eyes narrowed, her mind foggy. "Who are you?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper. The fisherman smiled. "We are from the Southern Isles. And you, Your Majesty, are a long way from home." The fisherman gently helped Iduna sit up, and she took stock of her surroundings. She was on a small beach, with rocky cliffs rising up on either side. The sea was calm now, but she could see the wreckage of her ship scattered along the shore. Iduna's gaze drifted back to the fisherman, and she nodded graciously. "Thank you," she said, her voice a little stronger now. "I owe you a debt of gratitude." The fisherman smiled again. "You don't owe us anything, Your Majesty. We'll take you to King Westergaard, and he can provide for you." Iduna's eyes sparkled with curiosity. She had heard of King Westergaard, a just and fair ruler. She nodded, and the fisherman helped her to her feet. As they walked along the beach, Iduna took in the unfamiliar sights and sounds of the Southern Isles. She was a long way from Arendelle, but she was determined to make the most of her situation. And perhaps, just perhaps, she would find a new sense of purpose here. The fisherman led her to a small village, where a group of people were gathered, talking in hushed tones. They fell silent as Iduna approached, their eyes fixed on her brown hair, worn in a bun with braids, and her regal demeanor. The fisherman approached King Westergaard, who was standing at the edge of the group, and whispered something in his ear. The king's eyes narrowed as he looked at Iduna, and then a look of recognition crossed his face. "Welcome, Queen Iduna," he said, his voice warm. "I had not expected to meet you under these circumstances." Iduna smiled, her eyes sparkling with gratitude. "I had not expected to find myself here, Your Majesty," she replied. King Westergaard nodded, and gestured to a nearby carriage. "Please, Your Majesty, let us get you to the palace. You must be exhausted and in need of rest." Iduna nodded, and allowed the king to escort her to the carriage. As they rode through the village, she caught glimpses of the Southern Isles, a land that was both familiar and strange. She was a long way from home, but she was determined to make the most of her time here. As they approached the palace, Iduna felt a sense of trepidation. What would her stay in the Southern Isles be like? Would she find the help and support she needed? And what lay ahead for her and her daughters, Elsa and Anna? Only time would tell, but for now, Iduna was content to rest and recover, surrounded by the kindness and generosity of King Westergaard and his people.