The King paced back and forth in front of the Throne, wracked with a decision he appeared to be unable to make. Not known for prowess in letters or scholarly ambition, he was renown for a keen sense of military cunning, and knew that a strategically placed pawn could steer the tide of war. Isn't that what this was all about—a war to save his eldest from an eternal solitude that would certainly cripple her, and thus cripple the Kingdom?
"You're doing it again, aren't you?" The Queen entered the Throne Room and paused at the look her husband gave her.
The King threw his hand up in a familiar gesture. "I cannot allow this isolation to continue as it is. She'll die…"
"Everyone dies, my husband, it is the way of things." Her indifference was shocking.
"You've always loved Anna more, I know this. But you can't expect me to love one more than the other. They are my children, and I can't let this go on for one more minute."
The Queen raised her brow. "What will you do? Will you let Anna—?"
"Of course not." The King eyed his wife for a moment before turning away. "What is the name of the Royal Cook's daughter?"
"Her name is Adele…" The Queen tilted her head, regarding her husband severely. "You can't be serious about this?" When he failed to turn around she approached him. "What if Elsa hurts her?"
"Why so little faith in your own flesh and blood?"
"Perhaps we could persuade a troll…" She began, but was cut off.
"No, Elsa needs—human contact, my wife." He nodded, steadfast in that his decision was final. "It is settled then. Accompany me to the kitchens?" He extended his arm and the Queen dutifully took it.
As they exited the Throne room both failed to see a pair of rather young and perplexed eyes peeking out from behind the drapes. Anna frowned and pondered in her young heart all that she had heard, but was unable form the necessary connections. All she knew was that it involved Elsa, and thus her curiosity was piqued.
Adele watched as her father talked quietly with her mother in the corner of the castle kitchens. Her father gestured with his arms and hands. First pointing at her without looking in her direction, then throwing his arms out like he did when driving home a particular point of discussion.
The brunette sighed and turned back to slicing more potatoes. She knew the argument was about her and wondered what she had done wrong this time. Surely they were not still mad at her for accidently tripping Princess Anna yesterday. She stopped peeling the potato in her hand when the conversation stopped, and she slowly turned to her parents.
Adele's mother smiled and moved to her daughter. "How are you feeling tonight, dear?" She lightly brushed away stay strands of hair out of her child's eyes.
"Okay, mom."
Her parents exchanged glances, and her father smiled, as well. "So—everything went fine today? No accidents?"
Adele blew out a breath and rolled her eyes. "No, dad, nothing happened today, except school."
Her mother nodded. "That is great news. Adele, honey, did you feel comfortable while at the Royal Balls, when you attended to the Princesses?"
"Sure, mom."
The Cook raised his hands up to his chest. "I know we're asking a lot of you, Adele. But you are 17 now, and I'm sure you'll do just fine. Won't she, Alessia?"
"You haven't asked me anything," Adele stated.
Her mother spoke first. "We need you to take supper to the Princess Elsa tonight, dear. In fact, we need you to start taking supper to the Princess every night from now on, and stay awhile…"
Adele started to chuckle, but stopped at the serious looks on her parent's faces. "Seriously? Why do I have to stay and talk to her? Everyone says she had an accident and is creepy looking—you're going to make me do this, aren't you?"
Her father sighed. "I'm sorry—" His voice faltered for a moment. "Everything will be alright, Adele."
Elsa stood at her window and stared at the fjord beyond and the ships tethered at its harbor. Night was approaching, and the promise of a few stolen moments outside the castle when the stars descended excited her beyond belief. It was her secret; no one knew, not even her parents. Just a few more minutes and…
The quiet knock disquieting, disturbing an already fragile equilibrium. "Who…who is it?" Elsa's hand flew to her mouth, and then she crept to the door and pressed her ear to it. "Anna…?"
The resulting reply was unfamiliar. "No, Your Highness."
Elsa staggered backwards. "Who are you?"
"My name is Adele, mademoiselle—the cook's daughter. I've brought your supper." Adele shifted on her feet, as the tray was heavy.
Elsa's mouth hung open and she shook her head. This was completely different, unlike all the other days when her meals were unceremoniously left at the door, without disturbing her. "Just leave the tray and go, please."
"I can't do that, Your Highness."
Elsa grabbed the handle and pulled roughly. "I said just leave—" She stopped short at the appearance of a young woman around her own age, standing there, looking very uncomfortable. "What do you want?"
"Can I leave the tray on your desk, Princess Elsa? It's awfully heavy." Adele smiled as best as she could.
"Of course, excuse me for being abrupt." The Princess stood to the side and allowed the servant to enter her chambers and place her supper on her desk. She eyed the young woman, looking for any sign as to why she needed to be in her room.
As Adele moved slowly through the room the first thing she noticed was the chill; it was freezing. Not even the flames from the fireplace provided for any heat. The frost chilled her, yet, there was more to the chill than just the cold. The air was heavy with melancholy, as if no joy ever permeated these walls—as if any notion of happiness was forbidden and frowned upon.
She put the tray immediately on the desk and then hoped that was all that was required. "Do you need anything else, Princess?"
Elsa shook her head. "No, you may leave."
Adele nodded. "If you will excuse me, then." As she was leaving she heard Elsa's quiet voice.
"Wait."
Adele paused at the door, her hand already on the handle. "Yes, Your Highness?"
Elsa let out a cool breath. "Just…thank you, Adele."
"You are welcome." The door closed with a loud clang and Adele sighed heavily. If this was to be her daily task, it was not a bad as she had imagined. The princess wasn't creepy at all, in fact, she looked a little shattered and dejected. As if some sort of terrible burden lie on her shoulders.
Adele spared a final glance at the door before turning and heading down the corridor.
Anna passed the servant as she was heading towards her sister's room and they shared a polite glance and nod. She turned and watched as the girl rounded the corner and out of sight. A strange feeling stole over Anna at the moment, something both unfamiliar yet clear.
The princess paused at her sister's door and continued to stare in the wake of the departing servant. What was—she doing at Elsa's door? No one, except her or their parents, ever strode over to this door since she could remember.
She shrugged off the feeling—a queer sense of possession—and proceeded with her usual knock.
Silence.
Anna frowned and knocked again but as usual nothing happened. "Elsa?" Her frown deepened. "Elsa, I know you are in there."
The silence was eerie, and a slow icy frost crept over the door. Icy tendrils, coiling in and around the crevices, now stopped at the handle. The temperature caused Anna's hand to recoil.
She stepped back and stared, incredulously, at the tiny specks of frost on her hand. "What...? Elsa, please, it's only me. Wait! That didn't come out right. What I meant to say is—it's only me out here. No one else is around so…can you please just open up the door? Just this once?"
Anna waited, her hopes not yet dashed as in times past. But the door didn't open; neither was there a sound, as there was often before. The princess sighed. "Oh, Elsa, why can't you love me anymore? Can't you see how much I need you? "
Silence.
The younger princess leaned against the door and slid down until she landed on the floor. "I need you, sister. I have no one…" Hot tears slowly descended her freckled cheeks and the memories of the one so dear flooded her thoughts. "Please…"
But there was only silence.
A/N: This is the prologue to a multi-chaptered story that will fill in gaps on what could have happened to Elsa in her years of isolation. Was she completely alone? Note: eventual Elsanna, but with a twist.