"Do you wanna build a snowman?" There was a long pause.

Yes, I do, sang Elsa's heart, but not a word passed her lips. Her eyes gradually closed, blocking out the sight of her room coated in frost. Blocking out the snowflakes that hung suspended in the air. Blocking out everything except her pain and her grief.

Oh, Anna, I want you. I want you so badly I can hardly bear to keep this door shut. But I can't open it. I hurt you once, and I can't do that again. That would be the only thing that could hurt worse than this, if I froze your heart like the trolls warned me.

I wish I could freeze my own heart. Then maybe it would stop hurting so much.

Elsa blinked her eyes open, that last thought flashing through her mind. Shakily, she extended her left hand before her, fingers curved as if holding the hilt of an invisible dagger. And for the first time in years, she deliberately reached for the magic.

Blue-white light swirled in her grasp, shaping itself into the form of a slender dagger. It had no substance barely more than a whisper against her fingers, but it radiated a chill that would freeze any flesh but her own.

For a long moment, Elsa considered the icy dagger.

This could kill you, a voice seemed to whisper. The cold may not hurt you, but this? This is magic. Who knows what it might do?

So what? retorted another voice. The succession's provided for. If I die, Anna takes the throne. She'd be a better queen than I any day. How can I be a queen if I can't even go out and meet my people without bringing a snowstorm down on them?

The dagger-shape dissolved into sparkles of magic, then reformed reversed.

And if I die, I'll see Mother and Father again.

Elsa closed her eyes, and drove the dagger of magic into her heart.


They're dead.

They're dead, and I'm alone.

So very alone.

What am I going to do?

Anna lay on her bed, weeping. She had no idea how long she'd been there. It just hurt, it hurt so much. Ten years and more she'd lived with the gates locked, with the halls empty, and people only coming in when they had to to keep the kingdom running. Ten years Elsa, with whom she'd once been so close, had hidden behind that closed door. And now her mom and dad, the only people who she had been able to talk or interact with, were gone.

There was a knock on the door. Anna twitched on her bed.

"Anna?" a clear voice said.

Elsa? thought Anna, bewildered. Then her sister's voice rang out again, singing seven words that instantly grabbed Anna's attention.

"Do you want to build a snowman?"

Anna exploded off her bed and ran to the door, throwing it open. Elsa stood on the other side.

Anna's sister was clad in a black dress, one that echoed Anna's own, but there was an odd smile on her lips.

"Elsa?" blurted out Anna.

"Hello, Anna," said Elsa.


Elsa flicked her fingers. A spark of magic shot forward and exploded into a shower of snow. Another twitch of her fingers, and the snow swirled up and formed into a crude snowman.

Anna stared in amazement, and Elsa permitted herself another small smile. It seemed almost absurd how much trouble she'd had controlling her powers, when it was now so simple. Without fear or anger to twist the magic, she no more had to worry about controlling it than she had to worry about controlling her own arm.

It was a bizzare experience. She still remembered what it felt like to feel pain, and sorrow, and fear, and love, though she suspected that her memories no longer conveyed the true depth of those feelings. Yet she couldn't actually feel any of those things. It made for an odd dissonance.

Elsa had already decided not to tell Anna what she had done. She might not feel anything towards her sister anymore, but love was more than feelings. It would hurt Anna to know what Elsa had done to herself, therefore Anna would not know. Hopefully. Elsa wasn't actually sure how well she'd be able to hide her new state from Anna. Of course, ten years alone and isolated, culminating in the death of her parents, could cover a lot of personality changes.

"Elsa…" said Anna, voice tinged with awe, "What… how… when did you learn how to do that?"

"This is why Mother and Father closed the gates, Anna," said Elsa. She felt a twinge of… not sorrow, she could no longer feel sorrow, but perhaps regret. "This is why I hid behind my door for all those years, and why the palace was empty. When I first discovered I had these powers, Mother and Father did the only thing they could. They closed the gates and emptied the palace, to keep everyone safe from me. It was supposed to be only temporary, until I learned better control, but it didn't work out that way. My fear warped the magic, made it harder to control. And of course, the more trouble I had controlling the magic, the more I feared it. It fed back on itself."

"So what changed?" asked Anna, running her finger along the streak of white in her hair.

Elsa closed her eyes. "After Mother and Father's death, I was too sad to be scared," she said. "And without fear to interfere with my control, all that practice made it easy to control the magic. And of course, once I'd proven to myself that I could control the magic I wasn't afraid of it anymore."

True, after a fashion, she thought. If it had not been for Mother and Father's deaths, I would never have been desperate enough to try what I did.

Anna stared at the snowman. "So… what happens now?" she asked. "Do we open the gates? I suppose this is a bit hypocritical, but I don't think I want the gates open right now. Not while I'm still…" she trailed off and turned to Elsa.

Elsa opened her arms and Anna stepped into her embrace. The sisters held each other close, and Elsa felt Anna's tears hot against her shoulder.

"I understand, Anna," she whispered in her sister's ear. "And I can't open the gates just now anyway. Father ordered them shut, and it will take a Queen to revoke a King's command. You'll have your time to mourn. And I promise you, Anna, that the very day I'm crowned Queen, I will open up the gates, and I won't close them again."

"And until then," she whispered, allowing her voice to soften, "At least we have each other."

"At least we have each other," whispered Anna back.