So here I finally am with the long promised follow up story to 'A Sequel to Frozen.' I hope you all enjoy this story as much as I am looking forward to writing and sharing it with you all!

Just for two notes:

One: I am also busy writing Thor: The Frosted Mirror and I will be working on both stories, but don't fear, neither will be left at all incomplete, so no worries!

Two: The story will be told by both Hans and Elsa alternatively, as apposed to the first one which was told by Elsa alone.

Finally I want to extend a very big thank you too all you followed, faved, read, reviewed and commented on 'A Sequel to Frozen.' It is thanks to all you guys that this next story is here, so this story is dedicated to you my wonderful fans, most specially (and in no particular order):

Daniela on DeviantArt for her unwavering enthusiasm and amazing artwork!

Flixnix on DeviantArt for his excitement and constant assurances that he thought it was the best Frozen sequel around!

funstories643 on fanfiction for her eager questions, which always kept me remembering what readers wanted answered!

FFcrazy15 on fanfiction for her wonderful inspiration and constant reviews!

You guys are all such awesome friends! Thank you with all my heart for making this story come real!

Enjoy!

They could be real, or just the shadows of night time imagination. At lest that is what I thought at first. It wasn't long before I knew... after all, shadows cannot capture moonlight.

Chapter One: The Voice

I awake with a start, sweating, shirt sticking to me, while my heart beats at an amazing rate. The world is quiet, only a soft wind blowing the curtain by the open window. Beside me my wife Elsa is fast asleep, her beautiful hair scattered on the pillow. She breathes softly and with a gentle note that can always ease it when my heart beats like this.

I feel the fire burning in the tips of my fingers and seal my hand tight to keep it down. I have had to waken her to put out flames every night for a week now and that has to stop. I would put it out myself with water but the flames move so fast and besides afterward I always need her words of reassurance, telling me it's okay and that I'll learn to get it under control.

The fact that she has managed is a comfort, it gives me strength, there must be a way to control the wild flames, even though they terrify me, spinning so fast, building so much smoke I'm scared they'll choke my wife.

Wife. Heaven knows that's a title with regards to her that I'll never deserve. I'm the man who raised a sword against her and I'm the man who left Anna for dead. Men like that only really deserve death of their own, the swinging gallows, or, at best, a cell for life, hard labor and no reward until the next life.

The fire is beating like a pulse against my hand so I slip out of bed and over to the washstand. I sink my hands into the cooling water which makes the hiss of a splashed flame, but gives me relief. It has to be a wild flame indeed to burst out despite water. Nor does it and I stand by the sink for some time before I finally draw my hands out and drying them on a cloth, slip on my gloves and move silently to the door, feeling restless and unable to sleep.

I open the door and slide out, shutting it very quietly behind me, not wishful to wake Elsa.

The castle is silent and at rest and looking up at the clock hanging outside our room I see it's two o' clock.

I wander down the stairs, my gloved hand running along the banisters. I'd love to feel that wood beneath my fingers, but I avoid touching anything that might send firing rushing through the palace.

Down in the main corridor I can see through the huge windows to the outside, where the rain is pouring. It's mid May and should be warmer than it really is, but the rain has persisted for days now, running down the windows and forcing all the citizens of Arendelle to stay indoors.

I lean against the window frame and watch the rain in a reflective mood. I can scarcely believe that Elsa and I have been married for nearly five months, we were wed two days before the new year. It's been the most precious five months of my life, filled with more blessing than I ever could have deserved.

I move restlessly from the window and take a slight turn in the corridor. Standing still seems impossible just now and I feel the urgent need to move about. I know inwardly that I am just trying to block, to push away the thought of what actually woke me tonight. I'm telling myself that it was the fire running in my veins, but I know it wasn't. Normally when the fire wakes me it's light is already blazing on the curtains or running along the carpet.

No, tonight it was that voice again.

I turn back to the window, rubbing a hand through my red hair, eager to rub the thought from my mind. I'm startled then by the sound of a deep sigh, coming from further down the corridor and turn about.

Anna is leaning against the window frame, just a little further down the corridor than I. Her redish hair is hanging loose, a tangled mess about her face and that face is stained with tears.

'Anna,' I call quietly down the corridor and she, starting, turns her head.

'Oh, hey Hans,' she says,' can't you sleep either?'

'No,' I say, moving down the corridor to stand next to her,' what's wrong Anna?' I ask.

She shakes her head slightly,' nothing,' she says, brushing a tear from her cheek, but she goes on all the same,' I think I'm going crazy for real this time Hans.'

'I love crazy,' I tell her with a half smile.

Anna laughs,' do you...' she pauses, then blurts in her blunt way,' do you ever hear voices at night Hans?'

I stare at her and then reluctantly I nod my head,' sometimes,' I say.

'I mean recently,' she says,' like a... a phantom living just outside the window?'

I know exactly what she means and I nod, a sudden feeling half relief, half panic. I'm not insane, but the voice is real.

'You do?' she looks eagerly up at me,' Kristoff doesn't,' she goes on,' I've been hearing things for more than a week and I asked him yesterday, but he has never heard anything.'

'Maybe he sleeps deeply,' I suggest, leaning against the window.

'Yes, maybe,' she agrees and then staring down she asks,' has Elsa heard anything?'

'I... I've never mentioned it,' I say,' I thought I was just hearing things.'

Anna looks up at me,' then we both were,' she says,' I mean we have barely explained ourselves, yet we understand one another.'

'No one could mistake that voice,' I say quietly,' it is too...' I break off, but one look exchanged with Anna is enough to express that we neither of us have the word, but we both of us understand.

'It scares me,' says Anna,' it's like...' she breaks off, but then goes on in a soft singing voice,' hearing voices in the night,

try tease your mind, say it's right.

But they call on, say a name,

you say it's wrong, but hear just the same.'

I take up from her,' all the colours of the sky are changing, turning green,

turning into yellow and all the puce you've ever seen.

You start to feel afraid, hear it in your head,

you won't admit, but you know what it just said.'

'It's the voice,' I sing, gazing out at the rain.

'The call of moonlight and of life,' she breaks in,' it's the voice.'

I move in,' the echo of burning flame and endless strife.'

And we say together,' and you know, but don't wanner tell,

It's a human voice, which echoes as a bell.'

I go on,' it's like a witch on your tail,

sees you wake, knows you'll fail.

It's the burning embers you see in the morn,

the cold light before the dawn.

But you don't wanner listen, you wanner shut down

Don't wanner hear it tell you, "move away from that crown".'

Anna spins into the middle of the corridor, her hair whipping about her face,' you just want to let it go,' she cries,' you just want to let it die.

Don't want to listen, but you can't tell a lie.'

She runs both hand through her hair and goes on,' you don't want to listen, don't want to hear,

But what you feel deep down is fear.

Cheat your mind call it all a con,

But it's going on, on, on, on.'

I take her hand and we move across the floor in a smooth, gentle dance,' it's the voice,' I remind her.

'The echo I don't want to hear,' she says.' It's the voice.'

'The only sound left to fear,' I add.

We go on together, tones rising in panic as we sing,' and though you won't admit, you hear it now,

it's calling on, a din and a row.

'That name that won't let go,' we cry together,' the sound that's screaming low.'

She says,' it's calling the name of your love,' while I say at the same time,' it's the name of a woman and you know you love her.'

'And that name is...'

'Kristoff,' she cries, letting go my hand and swinging to the window.

'Elsa,' I echo in a lower tone, letting her hand slide from mine and moving up beside her by the window.

We look at each other and we both know...

either we are going crazy...

or something is horribly wrong in Arendelle.

More to Come!

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Cover art: By daniela2706 on DeviantArt