I got pulled into Frozen. It literally sucked me in like a black hole might suck in particles of space. Anna and Olaf crack me up to no end. After the movie though, the fact that I never really got to know Elsa bugged me; for such an important character to the plot, she remained a mystery in my mind. So, of course, my muse decides to take me for a roller-coaster ride and boot me an idea I have no way around. This was supposed to only be about four paragraphs long. Look at what happened. D: I need to stop rambling.

Disclaimer: Nothing in Frozen belongs to me. Everything is Disney produced. Should I add Rise of the Guardians to this too? Probably. I am paranoid about this stuff. I disclaim Rise of the Guardians as well. It belongs to DreamWorks.

Ahem. One last thing...actually, nevermind, if you get to the end, you'll get it.

Exhaustion. She didn't know it was possible to be this tired. As if the price of ignoring her sister's pleas to play wasn't payment enough for her curse. Her days were spent alone, curled up next to the window or on her bed, terrified that if she so much as moved, the coldness swirling in her core would jump out through her gloves and glaze her entire room with ice. Clear blue eyes peer up at the clock mounted on the far wall; it's getting close to mid morning, which meant that-

"Do you want to build a snowman?"

Her sister had come again. Even though she was behind a wall of metal and wood, the icy princess could see the smile curving across her sibling's angelic face, large green eyes flickering with hope. Anna had loved Elsa's powers, had bugged her almost every night long after their bedtime in order to see her older sister frost the main hall into an instant winter. The younger princess had always giggled in delight, squealing as the icy floor proved too difficult to stay still on. Elsa could still hear her sister's laughter. What she would give to hear it again. Without thinking, the platinum blonde swung her legs off of her bed and began to make her way towards the door. Her hand makes it to the handle before swirling frost erupts from her fingertips, crystallizing a third of the wall. Immediately, she yanks back her hand, cradling it as a familiar sensation bleeds through her veins. She drops to the floor silently, pressing her back against the frosted surface of her door and curling up into a tight ball in an attempt to force back the frigid bubbling in her core. Petite features scrunch as the tingling feeling wraps itself into her bones and locks icy tendrils on her muscles; there's so much contained energy pulsing in her core that for a moment, she's afraid she'll explode. The coldness condenses in her fingertips, and Elsa clenches her hands in a panic, Conceal, don't feel. Don't feel. Why did it have to be so hard?

"Come on, let's go outside and play."

Her concentration slips the tiniest bit and frost immediately shoots across her floor in intricate patterns, no, what if it slipped underneath the door as well? She'd hurt her sister once, she's not going to do so again. Elsa leaps up, zooming across her newly iced floor in a panic; the frost begins climbing up the walls. Once she was a safe distance away from the entrance to her room, Elsa's hands tightened into fists as she watched crystallized water twirl itself around her bed, coating the blue sheets with a glossy finish. It'd been at least six years. Six years of repression, six years of practice, six years of watching the outside world from her window and wishing, wishing for some sense of freedom. And still nothing. Her powers had grown like the old troll had predicted, her control over them had remained the same. Good enough to prevent gilding the entire palace with ice, good enough to interact with her parents without freezing them, good enough to build and experiment with. But good enough was not acceptable; not when it came to Anna. As long as her control was only good enough, she posed a risk to her sister. Anna's face, pale and slack. Her skin, usually burning against Elsa's own, suddenly a comfortable temperature. Auburn hair fading to white. Her breathing catches in terror at the memory and gloved fingers rake through cream colored hair. With a nearly inaudible crackle, icicles leap out from the walls, razor sharp points gleaming wickedly in the weak sunlight. Elsa sucks in an agitated breath, curling into an even tighter ball and summons up all of her remaining mental strength to slam a wall in front of the venom circulating her body; the coolness coursing through her veins like water slowly recedes back into a pulsing sensation in her muscles.

"We used to be best buddies, and now we're not. I wish you would tell me why."

Anna was still there? Elsa stares at the potentially lethal products of her curse protruding from the frozen walls of her room and shivers. If her sister had been in the room, she could have been impaled. The blonde presses her cheek against the glass of her window hard, squeezing her eyes shut. If only she'd had more control over herself six years ago, if only she'd refused Anna's request that night, if only she'd never been touched by the spirit of winter. All of this would never have happened; Anna wouldn't have a streak of platinum hair, Mother and Father wouldn't have had to close down the castle, and Elsa wouldn't be spending all of her waking hours suppressing an ability that refused to be tamed. Microscopic shards of ice arrange themselves into beautiful patterns on the glass and she frowns, raising a gloved finger to the frost. The interior of her window was still an uninterrupted smooth plane; the pattern arches up, dipping and swirling into an outline that resembled that of a rabbit. For a few seconds, she simply stares at the drawing in awe before its implications slam into her. Oh dear goodness, she shoots up in a fresh wave of panic and takes a half step back, were her powers strong enough to bleed outside the confines of her room as well now?

"Do you want to build a snowman? It doesn't have to be a snowman." Tears blur her vision, making the door swim and she has to choke back the ache in her throat. The coldness is bleeding into her blood again and the lacy patterns coating her walls begin creeping its way onto her ceiling. Elsa knows what her answer will be to the pleading request. It's been the same for six years now.

"Go away, Anna."

It's snowing inside her room, soft, fat flakes of white drift down lazily to settle on any surface. For once, their instigator ignores them, choosing instead to stare blankly at the half frosted white wall in front of her. Elsa had always had her parents to fall back on, as much as she tried to keep them at a distance for their safety, they'd always been there, a calming anchor for the storm of emotions she'd somehow descended into during her isolation. Even after some of her worst outbursts, where her room had glinted red with anger and spears of ice rose out of the surrounding surfaces menacingly, her mother would draw Elsa in close for a comforting hug, ignoring the freezing temperature of the blonde's skin. Though fear for her mother's life stung at Elsa's heart, the knowledge that she was still loved and important made her existence at least tolerable. Her father thought up ideas to help her with control, and in doing so, lifted a tiny amount of the burden off of her shoulders. He didn't understand her powers at all and she knew that behind his calm demeanor, Father was just as confused and lost as she was about her abilities. She knew both feared her growing powers; her mother's fingers trembled when they cupped Elsa's face after a particularly violent outburst and her father always tensed up the tiniest bit when frost and ice exploded from his eldest daughter. But they had never wavered in their faith that Elsa would learn to control her powers, and as dismal as the blonde knew their encouraging words were, they nurtured and kept alive the tiny sliver of hope that she would one day be able to open the castle gates and reunite with her sister. Then the storm had claimed the king's and queen's lives at sea.

Elsa couldn't do anything, not even attend the funeral of her beloved parents. That day, while the few servants and Anna had left the castle to say their last farewells to the king and queen, Elsa had screamed and punched everything in her room, furious at her uselessness. The ice and frost responded to her anger, painting the room crimson and jutting icicles out in every direction possible. This only made Elsa even angrier. Her parents had spent nine years trying to help their oldest daughter, carving out precious time in their busy schedules and risking potential injury in order to ensure that Elsa knew she was supported and loved. On top of that, they'd done so while struggling to overcome their natural fear of the unknown with the parental love they'd felt for her. She would never know exactly how much courage and determination it took to step into her room every day to remind her that she wasn't entirely alone in dealing with her curse. What had she given in return? Nothing. They'd died without ever seeing an improvement in her accursed condition. A whirlwind of snow whips around her room, howling eerily in the Spartan like space. Elsa wailed, pulling at her hair; she couldn't even pay her last respects to their graves. The ice slithering through her body was too dangerous in her present condition; she wouldn't be able to hide it, much less control it. What if she lost it out there in front of all of Arendelle? What if she hurt someone? If Anna was anywhere near her in that situation then-

Anna, the storm stops abruptly, what about Anna? She'd heard the sniffling of her younger sibling as the other princess had passed her door that morning. They were both alone now; she should be with her sister. As soon as that thought forms, Elsa crushes it with a bitter smile; she couldn't even guarantee another's safety in her presence, what good would she bring in attempting to comfort her grief stricken sister? Anna's wellbeing came first; Elsa had vowed to never repeat her mistake again. The promise was now especially important now that their parents were gone. Her emotions were through the roof and the state of her wintery room reflected that. Gloved hands press against her mouth to hold back a childish whimper for her parents. Her father had been there when ice and snow spiraled out of control, and her mother had stroked her hair and told her stories when fear threatened to consume her entirely. Then in one day, that had all disappeared entirely, leaving her to walk the path back to her sister and freedom alone. Elsa closes her eyes; she has three years. Three years to perfect the rein over the curse into something that at least resembled control, three years to figure out and understand a power that she never wanted, three years before the crown was placed upon her head to proclaim her ruler of a kingdom known for its beautiful summers. Elsa slumps against a frost coated wall and slides down. The icicles protruding dangerously everywhere retreat as the blonde heaves a sigh of exhausted misery, drawing her knees up to her chin.

"Elsa, please, I know you're in there," a suppressed sob interrupts Anna's quiet voice and the girl pauses to take in a shuddering breath before continuing, "People are asking where you've been. They say have courage, and I'm trying to. I'm right out here for you, just let me in. We only have each other. It's just you and me, what are we going to do?"

She couldn't open the door, but the overwhelming desire to be close to her sister drew Elsa to her door and the blonde leans her back against the cold wood. Blue eyes travel across the iced floor, up the frosted walls, glazing over her single, untouched window without a second thought. That window was weird anyway. It was the only one to spontaneously freeze or melt without her permission. Elsa had long ago accepted that her life was going to be filled with inexplicable phenomenons. Her gaze traces the snowflakes imprinted on her ceiling before she buries her face in her arms. What am I going to do?

They hated her. One little slip and she'd revealed the monster lurking underneath the pretty face and large, crystal clear eyes. The Duke had called her a witch, the townspeople were terrified, and to top it off, she'd nearly stabbed her own sister. Elsa hated herself. The day had started off alright. She'd been nervous, of course, the gates had been opened again for the first time in twelve years and she was exposing her sister and her kingdom to the potential risk carried within her blood. Her powers were still beyond her control; the best she could do was slip on her gloves and pray that the miniscule amount of command she'd developed through the years would be enough to keep the curse hidden. Anna was beyond excited for Coronation Day; the younger princess had skidded past Elsa's door in the most unlady-like manner, sliding down the polished banisters of the spiraling stairs in her happiness at seeing the village again. Feeling the vitality thrumming throughout the entire palace from her sister, the blonde had allowed herself a small smile of fondness before pulling on her gloves. If she got past today without incident, she and Anna might actually be able to hold a conversation again face to face. She was tired of being alone and even though her sister's life was worth everything to her, Elsa wanted to laugh again.

For a brief moment during her coronation, the new queen had felt the frost escaping her fingers and creeping up the gold scepter and orb. Thankfully, quick action had prevented disaster from happening and she'd been crowned queen without another incident. The rest of the day was warm and Elsa had spent those hours either greeting visiting nobles, or watching the bustling village from a window high up in one of the towers. The green dot marking her sister flitted around the crowd like a butterfly amongst flowers and Elsa couldn't repress the faint giggle that slipped her lips. It was exactly like her sister to run off into the village without ceremony of any kind in order to explore her surroundings. She sighed, the new queen had wished for years now that she and her sister could speak without a door between them; now that the opportunity was there, Elsa was suddenly nervous beyond description. What was there to talk about after the silence that'd lasted for a little over a decade? Who was to say that Anna even wanted to speak with her anymore? The insides of her silken gloves is stiff with ice when a cool puff of air ruffles her fringe and leaves strands of cream in her eyes, why don't you just say 'hi'? Elsa grins and straightens her back. Why doesn't she just say 'hi'? Later that day, during the evening ball, she used that approach and was both surprised and pleased to see her sister relax and return the greeting. Her awkward stumbling over her words in an attempt to re correct and clarify things makes Elsa smile. It seemed that even after twelve years, Anna still retained her childhood excitement and quirks, and, if their shared bliss at the scent of chocolate indicated anything, the younger princess was still as in love with the sweet as her older sibling was.

For a couple of hours, the new queen had entertained the possibility of keeping the doors open; she loved watching her subjects enjoy themselves and their laughter was music to her ears. She never should have even allowed that thought to bloom and take root; she was a cursed human. Curses didn't leave room for any sort of light in her life; Anna had decided to marry a man she'd only met that day. Knowing her sister's naive and overly trustful tendencies, the new queen had refused to bless the marriage, setting off an argument between them. Anna's persistent questioning and unintentional accusations had bitten deeper than she could ever know. Elsa forced herself to not engage too long in the argument, repeating the fact that her sister had no way of knowing exactly what her older sister had gone through. From Anna's point of view, it was entirely logical to come to the assumption she did. But as each word cut deeper into her heart, Elsa finally couldn't tolerate it any longer and in her exasperation, forgot that she was missing a glove. She'd lashed out a hand without thinking and the ice followed the unintentional command, forming a protective barrier against the approaching people. It was her worst nightmare come true. The scared look on Anna's face had been enough to make her flee, accusations by the Duke only adding to the urgency in her steps. Her subjects were terrified as well after she froze the fountain and had scrambled to make a path for her as she fled the kingdom. Anna had chased her to the edge, begging for her to wait, but having endangered her sister's life twice already, Elsa ignored the cries and continued to run. It was the first time in a long time she'd been grateful for her powers; they provided a means of escape that wouldn't have been available otherwise.

Safely across the sea, Elsa allowed herself one last look at the kingdom behind her before turning around again and plunging into the shadows. With her gone, Anna would be crowned queen. Both Arendelle and her beloved sister would be safe from her frigid curse and she wouldn't have to worry about hurting them. The wind tugs stubbornly at her cloak, seeming to almost be trying to coax her back across the frozen expanse to Arendelle. She ignores this, firmly telling herself that it was better this way. Most of her life was one of isolation; it was the only surefire way to protect others. The life she was choosing now is no different. She'll stay alone in the mountains, surrounded by nothing but snow, ice and rock; there'll be no one to hurt and no one to terrify. Elsa draws her lips into a determined line and lengthens her steps towards the looming peaks. Isolation was her friend; she never should have told herself otherwise.

Her legs hurt. As the eldest daughter of a royal family and potential heir to the throne, Elsa had never been made to do much; it probably didn't help that most of her life was kept behind a single door. Whatever the case, by the time she reached the formidable mountains, the exiled queen was more than ready to collapse. The only thing that kept her climbing was the thought of her sister; if she stopped moving now and Anna came to find her (knowing Anna, it was exactly the thing she would do), she would be too easy to spot. The whole point of this escapade was to ensure that she wouldn't be found so stopping now would only defeat the entire purpose. Halfway up the mountain, the wind picked up, throwing her cloak out behind her like purple wings; Elsa ignored the uncomfortable tugging sensation on her throat and kept walking, trudging a solitary path in the pristine snow. Her perseverance paid off; close to the peak, the wind died down a little and her cloak dropped to drag behind her in the snow. A few minutes later, the blonde found herself walking on a gentle slope rather than the steep sides making up the side of the mountain. The silence was deafening as she stopped the catch her breath, sweeping a tired gaze over the glowing whiteness of the barren landscape. Although the towering majesty of the summit commanded the same, if not more, respect than palace in Arendelle, the harsh beauty of the desolate landscape dissuaded any living creature to venture forth. This was what she was looking for; complete and utter isolation. Up here, she could hurt no one.

Another gust of wind snaps her back to attention and for the first time, she notices the sheets of white whipping past her. The blonde grins bitterly; how fitting, the mountain was just as agitated as she was. This was going to be the perfect place for her to call home. She lifts a hand to create a home and freezes, hearing the mantra she'd lived by for over a decade. Conceal, don't feel, don't let them know. A snowflake flies into her face and explodes into tiny particles on her skin and she feels her teeth grit, remembering the horrified faces of her subjects, well, now they know, she snapped mentally at herself. She tears off her remaining glove and lets the wind carry it away into the sky, feeling, for the first time, a rebellious streak rear its head and fuel the repressed desire to enjoy herself and have fun. Her power uncurls itself from within her muscles and sinks into her blood, reveling in its new freedom as Elsa simply lets it out in a flurry of snowflakes. By now, the cloak's weight has become a nuisance and she reaches up to unclasp it; no need for something that was only for show. It wasn't like the cold bothered her. There's no need for the forced repression of her powers stemming from fear, and she allows the excitement boiling her blood to expand and fill her body with warmth. Blinking up at the blank canvas before her, Elsa grins; she needs a place to stay, didn't she? Well, it was time to figure out exactly what she could do with her powers; she'd always limited herself before, terrified of causing injury to others, but there was no one here to injure. Why not push her limits? She runs up the gentle swell of the summit, exhaustion forgotten in the intoxicating taste of freedom.

The blonde reaches a chasm between her and the actual peak of the mountain; here was her first challenge. She sucks in a breath of freezing air, seeing what was needed in her mind and allows her power to take shape; the snow molds itself into stairs. Tentatively, she places a foot against the creation and pleasure shoots through her when the snow crystallizes into ice; she races up the remaining steps, carving an elegant staircase made entirely of frozen water to bridge the two sides of the canyon. There's a clearing here that is cradled behind a wall of black rock; it's perfect as a foundation for whatever Elsa wanted to build. The blonde stamps her foot, watching ice spread out from underneath her in all directions. There's the floor of her new dwelling, she swings her arms up and large pillars of ice rise up from the ground like magic; the wind whistles through her unfinished home, playing mischievously with her carefully braided hair and she laughs. Why not add a second floor? She is a queen after all; her palace should reflect her status. The platform rises with ease as Elsa glides around in her creation, adding designs and accessories as she saw fit. It was so easy to simply let her mind and curse roam freely, effortless as breathing; something shifts on her head and the blonde pauses, remembering the crown perched precariously above her brow. She pulls it off, examining the delicate, gleaming metalwork; as beautiful as it was, it marked her as the exiled queen of Arendelle and held nothing but memories of her failures and confinement. Well, Elsa wasn't going back to that, the past was in the past and quite frankly, loneliness is a small price to pay for liberty.

While she was leaving her past behind, she might as well erase any lingering sign of the perfect princess of Arendelle as well. A tug of her hand and the pins holding the heavy braid in its coiled position falls down to rest over her shoulder, her other hand slicks back the strands of hair falling into her face. Much better, her scalp was beginning to ache from the strain the hair pins placed on it anyway. The teal skirt of her dress vanishes behind shimmering azure crystals as Elsa redesigned her clothing into one of less restriction. Still elegant, but so much more comfortable than the heavy material her other dress was sewn from. The blonde leaves her shoulders exposed; mouth quirking slightly at the thought of the scandalous looks she would probably have received if she were still in Arendelle. She throws her hands down, leaving a nearly transparent train to float behind her as the newly reborn Snow Queen walked out on her balcony to greet the rising sun. Her blood was humming with power and now that she no longer needed to push it back, circulated freely within her body, flooding it with a strange glow of pleasure. Behind her, her new castle caught the early rays of gold and glistened, reflecting and refracting the light into a million different shapes. The icy touch of wintry air brushes her face in an almost approving way before the smirking queen spun around on her heel and slammed the doors behind her.

She'd never felt more satisfied in her life.

In the end, it was her sister who'd saved her from a life of exile. The ironic thing was that Elsa had to nearly kill Anna for that to happen. Her sister had shown up at her door, pleading for the exiled queen to go back with her. With the new information that she'd somehow managed to freeze Arendelle over as well, Elsa had panicked and in her confusion, lost control entirely. Ice had struck Anna's heart. The blonde had thrown both her sister and her companion out with a giant snowman. Three days later, her castle was attacked and she was brought back to Arendelle as a dangerous prisoner. Afraid that she would end up hurting more people, she'd struggled against her chains when she heard guards coming to her cell and succeeded in breaking free; Hans had come after her and broken the news that the strike to Anna's heart had gone untreated and as a result, her sister was now dead. He might as well have told her that her sister hated and despised her; the result would have been the same. Nausea had churned Elsa's stomach, blurring her vision and weakening her knees, I killed her, the blonde falls to the frozen surface of the ocean; the storm vanished the moment her knees cracked painfully against the ice, tearing spilling down her cheeks. They freeze before they get halfway. Drops of diamond-like crystals clatter against the glassy surface of the solid ocean and she chokes back a hysterical giggle at the sheer irony of the situation; she'd spent her life trying to protect Anna, but she'd still managed to cause her sister's death. She hears the hiss of steel from behind her but stays in her huddled position, they might as well kill her; the world would be better off without her anyway.

"No!"

A cry of protest, the whoosh of a woolen cloak, a tinkling sound as metal shattered against a hard surface. What happened? Wind brushes her face in what seemed to be a comforting gesture before tugging at her dress insistently and she turns partly around to see the beginnings of a heavy dress, half hidden behind a thick cloak. Both are frozen solid. Dread chills her heart.

"Anna!"

No, please god, no. The ice queen whirls around to the front of the crystallized girl's form, pleading the heavens that it wasn't who she knew it to be. Azure eyes rake across the frozen figure as the air vanishes from her lungs. Elsa can't breathe. It's her sister's face, set in an expression of determination and fear. It's her sister's eyes, wide and panicked as she confronted the attacker. Her arm is still outstretched, hand up in a gesture of objection, her feet are still in a position of rushed approach. Elsa watches with horror as a soft cloud of air floats from between the now blue lips as she reaches out to the ice statue, why did she protect me? The blonde presses her trembling hands on her sister's frozen face retracing the familiar frame now encased forever in ice. She can still hear the faint echoes of Anna's voice begging her to open the door and play with her. No, if only she hadn't been so afraid back then, Anna, please, if only she'd let her sister in and allowed the younger girl to talk sense into her, I'll do anything, Elsa lets out a sob throwing her arms around the hard contours of her sister's icy tomb. Just come back, I promise I'll never shut you out again. She slumps against the sculpture, pressing her face into the hard ice, feeling tears of regret slicken the smooth surface. A soft breeze touches her shoulders; the feeling is nearly identical to what Elsa remembered being hugged felt like. The blonde begins to cry in earnest, muffling her wails in the hard ridges that once made up a sheet of rippling woolen cloth. Why did Anna always have to suffer the consequences of the choices her older sister made?

Something shifts underneath her arms. Was she going insane or did the ice suddenly feel warm? No, she wasn't losing it; the cloth pressed against her face is beginning to soften and feel like wool again, don't tell me… hoping against hope, Elsa tightens her arms around the yielding fabric as the ice shards slowly transformed back into normal fibers and the coolness under her skin receded. Please, please, please. Wind pulls at her hair excitedly just as Anna gasps. Elsa feels the abrupt expansion of her sister's chest and jerks back to see clear green eyes smiling at her. The relief is so immense, she actually forgets to breathe, all she can do is yank her sibling in for a hug, too happy to care about the nearly unbearable warmth radiating from Anna's skin.

"You chose to save me?"

Her sister smiles at her without a trace of regret on her freckled face. "Of course I did. I love you."

Elsa catches the message behind her sister's words, it was never a choice; between my life and yours, it will always be yours. The smile on her face widens and she squeezes her sister's hands affectionately. Anna's act of sacrificial love had defeated Elsa's wintry curse, thawing the ice threatening to encase her forever in a frozen statue. The snow queen blinks, realization slamming into her. Love had saved her sister, why wouldn't it save her kingdom? What was there to lose anyway? She'd placed Arendelle under eternal winter; now that there was a potential solution, there was no reason not to use it. She closes her eyes, inhaling the crisp air slowly before lifting her arms up; why hadn't she thought of it before? Her powers obviously reacted to her emotions; when she was younger, the icy abilities had almost never troubled her. Granted, they weren't nearly as strong as they were now, but the instances of injury had only occurred when their user was under stress; she'd thought she'd lost control over them entirely after the encounter with the trolls because they'd grown stronger while she remained the same. That assumption had been entirely wrong. She knows that now as the sheets of cold, white fluff lifted off the roofs and streets of Arendelle to gather over her head in the form of a giant snowflake. She'd never lost control over the ice coursing in her blood; it had only appeared out of reach because she'd shut herself away. A soft breeze wraps around her hands, curling around her fingertips before sweeping across her sister's face and ruffling the rusty fringe. Elsa smiled.

From high up on a rooftop, invisible to the entire kingdom of Arendelle as they slid and glided across their new ice rink, a boy laughs quietly, turning around to glance at the floating forms of two royals. The women had thick, brown hair twisted up into a coil and pinned precisely for the gold tiara sitting on her head to find purchase in the chocolate locks. Beside her, his arm wrapped around her shoulders, stood a tall man dressed in a military suit. Both had tears of pride in their eyes. Their companion smiles, sweeping his crooked staff in a semi circle.

"I told you she would be fine."

The ghostly forms of the two royals flicker as the woman smiles at the young man, mouthing a silent thank you before the wind scattered the misty substance making up their figures and they disappeared entirely. Their daughters were safe and at peace; that was all they needed to see.

Two requests. Don't kill me, and don't yell at me T_T

What I was going to say at the beginning was that although Jack Frost is in the story, he plays a very passive role. Did you actually catch the brief instances where I kinda-sorta-notreally hinted at his presence? Then, of course, depending on how you read the ending those instances might change as well. There was going to be a section that cemented his role in the story, but it couldn't fit without massive restructuring. I just wasn't up for it. My editor was pissed at my vagueness, but since I like it, it will be staying vague.