So this is my entry to dreamswanderer's Review Extravaganza over on tumblr! It ended up being much longer than I'd anticipated so I had to split it up into two parts. I've never written anything like this before, especially since it focuses on Elsa and her relationship with one of my OCs (who is actually original to my Frozen viking AU, but hasn't been introduced yet). He's... quite an interesting character. Well, at least I think you guys think so.

Disclaimer: I don't own Frozen or any of its characters. The only characters I own are the ones original to this work.


"Crystallized Pigments"

Sneaking out of the castle was not something Elsa had originally intended to do. The preposterous idea had never once crossed her mind. The second Anna suggested that she pose as a townsperson, with the intent on eavesdropping for any uttered words about her magic, was the first time the queen considered it.

At first, it didn't sit well with her. It didn't feel right to listen in on the opinions of her subjects. It shouldn't matter; except, now it did. Just when Anna had been insistent that the people of Arendelle were ecstatic to have a queen with magical ice powers to ease Elsa's worries—which had been plaguing her for many restless nights—there came reports of riots and vandalism in town, suggesting hatred and rejection of Arendelle's beloved Snow Queen. To say that Elsa had nearly caused a second eternal winter when she received such reports from the captain of her guard was an understatement.

Even now Elsa could feel her heart begin to race and the accumulation of her powers prick at the tips of her fingers in a raging swirl at the recollection of the devastating news. But she pushed it away and forced herself to calm down by taking in a deep breath and counting to ten; a strategy that Anna had shown her when nightmares would attack her at night. Nightmares that caused her to freeze over her room. The queen even found herself putting it into practice when she felt overwhelmed and trapped to the point where panic would weigh on her.

When the chill of her powers receded, Elsa was able to breathe again. Her blue eyes flickered to her open closet when she finished fiddling with her black bodice, tying the strings into a neat ribbon. Elsa exhaled and brushed her hands over the plain, dark blue fabric of her skirt. Having been more accustomed to expensive fabrics like satin and silk, she was not used to the rough texture of cotton. Nonetheless, it was a nice dress and it wouldn't raise suspicion. If Elsa had gone with any of the other dresses in her closet, it would make the townsfolk wonder how a mere townswoman would be able to afford such expensive, embroidered clothing.

After closing the closet door, Elsa turned to her vanity and ghosted a hand over her braid. She pursed her lips, contemplating if she should wear her hair in a braid like the day before, when she wandered downtown, or if she should do something different. She didn't want to be recognized.

She fingered the end of her braid for a few more moments before she began to unravel and comb through it gently. Pushing back her bangs and watching as the thick waves of her hair cascaded along her shoulders, Elsa decided that she could leave her hair unstyled for one day.

"Okay," she murmured through a breath, placing her hands on her hips, "I can do this. Just act normal and he won't notice a thing."

"Who won't notice a thing?"

Elsa started with a gasp and spun on her heels, her blonde hair whipping around her face. Frost spread beneath her boots. Her blue eyes widened, but when she noticed Anna standing in the doorway, Elsa frowned and averted her gaze.

"No one," she replied abruptly. When Anna raised a suspicious brow, Elsa mentally berated herself for being so apprehensive. "I was just talking to myself as I was getting ready," she finished, failing to mask the small tremor in her voice.

"Uh huh, I can see that," Anna replied in a singsong voice. A small smirk crossed her lips and she entwined her fingers behind her back. She seemed to almost skip across the room when Elsa pretended to straighten out her hair to avoid making eye contact. Anna plopped herself on the neatly made bed and spread herself out on her stomach before propping herself up on her elbows and resting her chin on the palms of her hands.

After a few moments of silence with the queen pretending to fix herself in the mirror, Anna spoke up.

"Soooo," she drawled with a wink, causing Elsa to stiffen, "who's he?"

"He is no one."

"Elsaaa come on! It's not every day my stuck up older sister talks about men without me bringing it up," Anna whined, flipping onto her back and hanging her head off the side of the bed. She crossed her arms with a loud, exasperated sigh, watching Elsa place her brush back on the vanity and turn away from the mirror.

"I think you somehow missed that you're the one who brought it up," Elsa pointed out with a raised brow. She crossed her arms and met Anna's upside-down gaze. "Besides, you shouldn't be eavesdropping. That's unbecoming of a princess, my dear little sister."

Anna waved her off with a huff and sat upright when she felt the blood rush to her head, "It's not unbecoming, it's strategic."

"It's unjust," Elsa argued.

"Hey, I could be a good spy you know!"

"Then you'd be the worst spy I've ever met."

Anna fixed the queen with a heated glare but was only met with a roll of the eyes.

"Wait a minute. . ." Anna paused. She was uncharacteristically silent for so long that Elsa couldn't help but glance back at her sister, who contorted her face as if she'd just smelled something foul. "Don't think I don't know you were trying to change the subject on me! I know that trick."

Elsa shot her an amused smirk, "Oh? Do you now?"

"Tell me," Anna demanded, strolling up to the queen until they were nearly nose-to-nose. They were so close that Elsa found herself arching backward, almost bumping into the vanity behind her. "Or I'll. . .I'll eat all of your chocolate!" The princess paused, as if contemplating if it were a reasonable enough punishment, then nodded to herself with a 'hmph.'

Elsa released a low gasp and feigned disbelief, placing her hand over her chest as she straightened herself.

"Oh my, not the chocolate!"

"Oh yes the chocolate! I'll eat it all! Now," Anna backed away, putting some distance between them as she regarded her sister. Elsa wasn't sure if she liked the wide smirk that crossed her little sister's face. "I'll ask again, and I want a straight answer! Who's he?"

Knowing that she couldn't get away with trying to convince her sister that there was no he, Elsa relented. The small smile that had formed from their banter faded and she felt her shoulders drop. She ran a hand through her hair, contemplating the best way she could say this without Anna jumping to ridiculous conclusions.

"I met him yesterday, he knows about the riots happening in town. He's offered to help me," she finally said, releasing a low breath. She wrapped her arms around herself and regarded her sister, hoping Anna's reaction wouldn't be over-the-moon ridiculous.

"Is he hot?"

Of all the words that could have flown out of the princess's mouth, Elsa was not expecting that. What did that even mean?

"I—excuse me?"

"You know, too attractive to resist. Hot as in, you can cook an egg on his steaming chest—"

"Why would I want to cook an egg on some strange man's chest?!" Elsa exclaimed, flabbergasted.

Anna shrugged.

"Well, is he?"

Elsa pursed her lips. She thought back to his physique, despite the dim-lit atmosphere of the tavern she'd entered, and recalled his dark hair. Not black, but a dark brown that reminded her of rich chocolate. The strands at the crown of his head had been pulled back into a short ponytail while the rest of hair brushed against the nape of his neck in short waves. The hazel of his eyes had glowed, reflecting the candle-light between them, and pierced through her. It had been too dark to discern much else about him other than his lean figure, but she couldn't deny that he was pleasing to look at.

While she could recognize the aesthetic of his figure, the thought of cooking an egg on his chest was less-than pleasing. It didn't even sound sanitary.

"No?" she replied. She couldn't hide the raised tinge in her voice, signaling her confusion with Anna's question.

"Are you asking me if this guy is attractive?" Anna raised a brow.

"No! Well, he's attractive but. . ." Elsa trailed off, catching her bottom lip with her teeth.

"But what? He's crazy? Strange? Does he pick his nose?"

Elsa scrunched up her nose at the last assumption, "Pick his nose?"

"And eats it?" Anna asked, her eyes widening as if she'd found the perfect explanation as to why her older sister couldn't care less as to whether a man was attractive or not.

Elsa closed her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose. "No, but if he does I don't want to know. I fail to see why this is even remotely important."

The playful glint in her younger sister's eye vanished. At Elsa's tortured sigh, Anna closed the short distance between them and enveloped her in a soft hug. The queen hung her head, pressing her forehead against her sister's shoulder with her arms hanging limply at her sides. With a crease of her brows, Elsa sighed again, trying to suppress the turmoil that had been building up within the past few days. Though she could see why being an acquaintance with a man who was no apart of her council would excite Anna; her sister had mentioned more than once about how great it would be for her to find someone, just as she had found Kristoff. But having a conversation about whether or not she was attracted to some stranger was not the type of stress the queen wanted to add to her daily responsibilities. Responsibilities that now included getting to the bottom of these riots and quelling them before they become more dangerous than they already were.

The silence stretched between them for a few seconds longer. Only the occasional sound of Elsa's strained exhales could be heard. She slid her eyes shut, pushing away the confusion and doubt that clouded her mind. When she began to shift in Anna's arms, the princess released her. The queen brushed a loose strand of her own hair back behind her ear. When she caught Anna's eye, she offered a tense smile and—out of habit—straightened her posture.

"Are you sure you don't want me to come with you?" Anna asked softly, despite the excitement she'd expressed earlier.

Elsa shook her head. "I need you here to take care of the castle while I'm gone," she said, then noticed the concern that flashed across her sister's face and added, "I'll be back before morning, I promise."

"Okay," Anna breathed and enveloped Elsa in one last hug. When they fell apart, a teasing smile spread along Anna's face. "Are you sure you're not wandering off to elope?"

Elsa rolled her eyes, but couldn't prevent the crooked smile. "Yes, I'm sure. It's strictly business, Anna."

After bidding Anna goodnight and making sure her bedroom door was clicked shut and locked, Elsa pulled a navy blue cloak over her shoulders and strode to her nightstand. With a few low grunts and rough tugs with her fingers, she pried the neatly-painted furniture from the wall. Elsa let out a heavy sigh and moved down to her knees. She pressed her palm along the bottom of the wall until the tips of her fingers caught a subtle indent. Bracing herself, she pulled and cracked open the molding, forcing the tiny door open.

It hadn't been until recently that she learned of the secret passageways that were woven all throughout the inner walls of Arendelle's castle. Though she'd spent the majority of her life-time behind a locked door, the queen realized that she should have suspected it. Much like what she'd read in epics and fairy tales, there were old and unused passages hidden within her own castle.

It came as no surprise to her that Anna had known all along. With how adventurous and clumsy her sister was, Elsa wouldn't put it passed her to have fallen through a hidden door and face-planted into the hard, cold musty ground. The thought was quite entertaining. Elsa had to bite back a snort when she crawled through the tiny opening and reached out to pull the nightstand back in place before clicking the hidden doorway shut.

"It should lead you straight out to the side of the courtyard," Anna had told her after she'd succeeded rummaging through the queen's room in search of an obscure threshold. "The guards are usually posted by the gates, but if you're quiet enough, they won't see you."

Elsa had raised a curious brow at her sister's detailed directions, suspicious that the princess must have sneaked out of the castle on more than one occasion for one of her disapproved escapades. The queen had given a slight shake of her head before ducking her head into the small, opened threshold that was placed directly beside her bed. She squinted, scrunching her nose and waited for her eyes to adjust to the darkness of the passageway.

"It's awfully small," she commented with a frown. "Do I have to crawl all the way through?"

"No, only the doorway is that tiny. You should be able to walk normally after you crawl through, the passage opens up."

Elsa had responded with a curt nod then took in a breath to calm her nerves and crawled through.

That had been the night before. Even now as Elsa struggled to adjust her eyes to the darkness of the passageway, she doubted she could ever get used to this. Starting down the narrow hallway, she could feel her palms scrape against the rough, damp stone. When the queen felt that she was in far enough to stand, she used the walls as a guide, leaning against them to steady herself onto her feet. By this time her eyes had adjusted enough so she could see the dark silhouettes of cobwebs and any rodents that may have taken shelter within the castle's walls. The first time she'd made her way through, she had to bite back a scream when a rat scurried between her feet, frightened by her presence. She'd suspected that she'd managed to step on its tail by the screech it gave as it weaved its way around her. After that, Elsa wasn't sure if she wanted to find out what else dwelled and awaited her farther down the path.

After taking a few, careful steps—and making sure her footfalls were light and silent enough so she wouldn't attract unwanted attention—she halted and inwardly berated herself for not thinking to use her powers sooner. With a flick of her fingers, a small snowflake manifested and glowed in her open palm, dimly lighting the rest of the way through the passage.

Thankful that no rats skittered between her legs this time, Elsa found her way to the exit and stepped out into the courtyard.

Two guards were posted by the gates, standing stiff and still with their swords at their hips and spears at rest in their hands. Though Elsa cursed her unfortunate situation and wondered how she was going to slip passed them without being noticed, it was also quite relieving to know that her castle guards were well-trained and alert.

While she could easily craft a staircase on the side of the courtyard so she could make her way over the castle walls that surrounded the gates, Elsa thought that would be too conspicuous. She kept her back pressed against the stone walls while she lingered, praying that she was well-hidden, behind a dark corner. With the moon shining in a cloudless night sky, its surface a little more than a typical crescent, the walls of the courtyard had long shadows that crawled along the cobblestone ground and touched the silhouettes of the fountains. As long as Elsa kept herself close to the walls, but far enough away from the gates, the guards wouldn't see her.

The queen worried her bottom lip. Her eyes flickered from the stone barriers and to the gates, contemplating. Perhaps a staircase would be too bold, but if she used her magic in a more subtle manner, she'd be able to climb over.

After pulling the hood of her cloak over her head, she stared down at her open-palmed hands and took a deep breath. She focused on the magic that coursed through her veins until it pricked at her fingertips, then held the manifesting snow in her palms. Keeping to the shadows, Elsa stepped up to the wall opposite of her and pressed her palms against the stone. She felt the smooth surface beneath her skin, feeling out the architecture before she hardened the snow to ice and forced the magic to latch onto the wall. After her success, she then curled her fingers as she molded the ice into a handle to pull herself up. With a low grunt, she pulled her own weight until her feet dangled. She recalled—after a few expeditions to the mountains out of her curiosity to observe and understand how the ice harvesters exploited natural ice—how Kristoff climbed a mountain in order to reach a higher altitude where ice would still flourish even in the summer. He was sure-footed, confident, and knowledgeable about which surfaces were steady enough to hold his weight and which were not.

Though Elsa recognized that this was different because she was making her own, crystal-rocks and strengthening them as she moved, it was the same technique. She'd form a handle to pull herself up with, then manifest a new crystal surface to place a foot on. It was hard work full of upper-arm strength and concentration.

By the time she made it to the top, she was almost out of breath. Elsa took a moment to rest, feeling as though her arms had been reduced to jelly, and peered down the edge of the wall. The dark waters of the fjord lapped up against the stone. It was calming how it reflected the moonlight in its soft waves and the queen found herself mesmerized by something so simple.

Snapping out of her daze, she dispersed the ice trail she left behind along the wall and spotted the bridge that connected the castle courtyard to the town. She almost groaned at how the climb down wouldn't be as easy as a straight line. She'll have to maneuver herself to the left and pray that she wouldn't miss a step and slip, only to find herself submerged in water.

Anna had delayed her tonight. If she had left at the exact time she planned to, she would have been able to sneak out of the castle at a time when the guards were changing posts and were less aware of their surroundings.

Regardless, she was relieved to find that there were only guards patrolling on the inside of the courtyard (though she made a mental note to have her guard captain post at least two guards on the outside of the gates as well). As she carefully made her way down the outside of the stone walls as inconspicuously as she could and found purchase on the bridge, the queen wrapped the cloak around herself tighter and began to make her way into town.

Her eyes darted suspiciously toward every shadow and alleyway she passed. Though she was disguised as a townswoman, Elsa was wary of walking the streets alone at night. Arendelle wasn't a kingdom with high crime rates, but that didn't mean young maidens wouldn't be jumped if seen walking alone at night, especially when there have been reports of riots. She bristled at the thought and gripped her cloak tighter, unaware that frost accumulated beneath her fingertips and curled onto the crinkled fabric.

With how Arendelle always seemed quiet when the sun disappeared behind the mountains, she'd always assumed that everyone retired at nightfall. But judging from her little adventure the previous night and by the small crowds of people she passed by, Arendelle was more lively than she'd anticipated. She'd only ever made her way through town, accompanied by her sister, during the day. It was something she'd recently come to enjoy. Children would shyly approach her with wide eyes and her subjects would smile in kind, it was a relaxing atmosphere. But at night, Arendelle was different. There were no children, as they'd been put to bed at this hour, and people would gather in small crowds outside taverns or by alleyways. The scent of mead assaulted her on occasion, nearly making her gag. Men and women would flirt, some would even catch her eye and try to beckon her over while cat-calling her.

Elsa only raised her head and focused on the path ahead of her, ignoring the drunk men and women. With a certain tavern in mind, the queen turned two more corners until she reached her destination.

It didn't take her long to recognize the man leaning against the building just outside the doors. His dark hair was pulled back into a short ponytail that brushed against the nape of his neck. In his hand, just as she'd seen the night before, he held a notebook and a pen. He was unconcerned with his surroundings as he wrote in his notebook. If he noticed that she was approaching him, he didn't indicate it.

After a few moments, she cleared her throat. Vidar paused in his scribbling, but didn't look up at her. Instead, he gave a low sigh and shut his book.

"For someone who's a little late, you sure are demanding," he teased with a smirk.

Elsa frowned and dropped her hood, narrowing her eyes.

"You didn't specify a time," she countered, her gaze flickering to the battered notebook in his hand. Some of its pages were falling out.

He shrugged, "If I have to wait, then you're late."

"What kind of logic is that? I can't read minds," she replied with a purse of her lips. He merely waved her off—her patience flared at this gesture—and reached for the tavern doors.

"After you~" he sang, opening the doors and digging his free hand into his pocket.

Elsa resisted the urge to roll her eyes at him, but thought better of it and brushed passed him and into the dim-lit, raunchy tavern. The second she stepped foot inside, a glass flew next to her head and shattered against the wall behind her, its alcoholic contents spilling all over the ground. The queen froze where she stood and her eyes darted toward the bar where she assumed was where the glass flew from. To her surprise, instead of witnessing a fight, a group of men raised their mugs with rambunctious laughter and chugged. Elsa crinkled her nose at the distinct smell of mead and ale, feeling a wave of nausea overcome her.

She stiffened when Vidar placed a hand on her shoulder and motioned for her to move passed the bar and toward a less crowded area of the tavern. After wondering why on earth he would have them meet up in such an unsanitary, boisterous place, the queen swallowed her discomfort and followed him to an empty table.

She took the seat across from him that was propped up against the wall in the deserted corner he led her to and folded her hands on her lap. Vidar all but tossed his notebook on the table and rested a forearm along the wooden surface. The table was small, and though she could tell that it had been wiped down prior to their arrival, she noticed a few missed crumbs between the tiny cracks and nicked areas. The corner of the table on her side was starting to rot, and it was then that the queen was too disgusted to even consider eating, much less place her hands on the table. She was no stranger to the idea that she was spoiled by growing up in a clean castle, but even if she wasn't, she couldn't imagine eating at a place like this.

"So," Vidar started, breaking the silence between them after they got settled, "out of curiosity, why are you so concerned about these riots?" He raised a brow at her and leaned both of his arms on the table, regarding her.

Elsa, feeling how stiff and straight she was sitting, slumped in her seat. Being born the heir of a kingdom and crowned at twenty-one as its queen, keeping herself poised and composed in public had become a habit. While it came as second nature to keep to her courtly etiquette, it wasn't needed here. The last thing she wanted to do while posing as a townswoman was to raise suspicion, especially if she was investigating the riots.

Swallowing her disgust for the dirty table, she somewhat mirrored his behavior and rested an arm on its rough surface. His hazel eyes watched her with an intensity that made a shiver run up her spine, but she ignored it and full-on met his gaze without hesitation. She had expected this query. She inwardly praised herself for preparing for this conversation as she walked through town.

"My little sister likes to wander the streets," she started with a tilt of her chin, reminding herself that this was no different than explaining her ideas to her council. "Our parents died four years ago, so it's just us. She doesn't exactly listen to me all the time and I'm afraid she'll get caught in the middle of one of the riots. I want to know why they're happening. How," Elsa paused, curling her fist in her lap and creasing her brows. In the back of her mind, she hoped her white lie was believable. "How can they be avoided?" And stopped?

He didn't answer at first. He merely gave a low hum of acknowledgement whilst tapping a finger on the cover of his notebook with his curious gaze fixated on her. The queen resisted the urge to sit straighter in her creaky chair. In her impatience, she fiddled with the material of her skirt, picking at the hem that just brushed below her knees. She nearly jumped when he spoke, but managed to catch herself and met his eyes.

"There's no way to avoid them. Not unless you know their whereabouts," he told her, breaking eye contact and flipping through the pages of his notebook. Her eyes drifted down to how his fingers bent and fanned out the worn pages. In the light breeze that brushed against her, it took her a moment to recall that he'd had the same exact notebook the night before when she'd collided into him. The queen almost rolled her eyes at how he'd seemed more concerned about pages in a book than the young woman he'd run into.

Yet, she could tell that it meant a lot to him. More than once, since she'd met him, had the question been on the tip of her tongue. But every time, Elsa would hold back. It felt like a breach of privacy.

She wasn't exactly in the position to question either, since she had some secrets of her own. Revealing who she was to a stranger who—despite how he was kind enough to help her—had information about the riots in Arendelle.

"Their whereabouts? Is it a gang?" she inquired with a frown. The queen had expected a mass gathering of spontaneous protestors, but this sounded like a specific group.

Vidar shrugged, "More or less. It's a group of men who just don't like the idea of being ruled by a sorceress."

Elsa, a little offended, took in a shaky breath. She felt the cold settle deep within her. "The queen isn't a sorceress. She just has a gift," she defended and pressed her lips into a tight line.

Vidar laughed and shook his head at her, not at all perturbed by her small outburst.

"Perhaps not. I don't believe in anything unless I see it."

Elsa placed her hands back in her lap and balled them into fists.

"Do you stop believing in the moon when the sun comes out then?" she fired back and he stopped fiddling with his notebook and raised a brow at her. The thought of backing off before she gave herself away crossed her mind, but she couldn't help but feel hot under the collar. It was bad enough that, despite her kind efforts, there were still people in her kingdom who were afraid of being ruled by a queen with winter powers. She tried to reason with herself that the idea of a queen with the power over ice and snow was farfetched for someone who hadn't witnessed it, but that didn't mean it was impossible either.

"No, but that's a natural phenomenon. I've seen the moon before, but I've never seen a woman sprout flurries of ice and snow from her fingertips. It's not natural," he replied. A small smirk was plastered on his face and Elsa could feel her face start to burn.

She clenched her teeth as she leaned back in her chair and crossed her arms. Her nostrils flared when he chuckled and she forced herself to calm, taking deep and slow breaths.

Don't laugh now, because you'll eat your words. Every single one of them.

"Don't know why it's so important to you. Magic doesn't exist beyond fairy tales," he continued.

Elsa didn't answer, she was too preoccupied with composing herself and wiping the melting ice crystals off of her skirt as inconspicuously as possible. When she looked up, his gaze was no longer on her. Instead, he found interest in a pattern of scratches on his side of the table. Vidar traced the jagged and curved lines with a finger as if trying to memorize the impression.

The queen fidgeted in her seat, distantly wondered what time it was, and cleared her throat when she felt irritation nip at her. She needed answers and she was beginning to think that she was wasting her time here.

"Is that all you know?" she asked.

"About the nonexistence of magic or the riots?"

The queen narrowed her eyes. She was usually a woman of patience, but he was certainly testing that. If she didn't know any better, she'd ice his behind to his chair.

"The riots. Do you know the whereabouts of the men responsible?"

His smirk dropped. Vidar frowned and avoided her eyes. The way his shoulders slumped made her insides churn. She felt sick.

"No. I'm sorry."

With a slow nod, Elsa stood from her chair.

"Thank you. I appreciate your help," she said softly, failing to keep the disappointment out of her voice. "I should head home now, my sister will worry." The queen offered him a feigned smile and started to take her leave.

"Wait." Vidar caught her wrist and she halted, snapping her head back at him. Elsa furrowed her brows, but didn't say anything as she waited for an explanation. His hold on her was gentle enough for her to slip her wrist from his grasp. "I uh. . ." he stuttered forcefully, fiddling with his pen, and swallowed before standing from his chair. "Sometimes they lurk around here for drinks, if you want to come back tomorrow night, we can eavesdrop."

Her eyes widened then scanned the now half-empty tavern. If the men had been here earlier, she hadn't noticed. While the invitation was the only chance she'd have at figuring out how to stop the riots, she wasn't too keen on being in the same room as the men who caused them. But did she really have a choice?

Elsa relented, then met his gaze with new-found determination.

"I thought you said you didn't know their whereabouts?"

Vidar side-eyed her and smirked.

"Well I just meant that I didn't know where they lived, miss."

If she wasn't so determined to unmask the men behind the riots, she would have slapped him. Instead, as he stood from his chair and placed his hands in his pockets, she tilted her chin upward and raised her brows.

"Elsa," she corrected him.

He looked surprised for a moment, as if realizing that he'd never asked for her name. And perhaps she should have taken advantage of it and kept that information to herself, but if he was going out of his way to help a woman he'd never met before, he deserved to know.

He smiled. "Alright, Elsa."


A/N: Leave a review if you can and please let me know what you think! The second part should be coming in a few days :D

I wrote this entire story to Promise by Thomas Bergersen on repeat. I've officially dubbed it Elsa and Vidar's theme, so you should go listen to it. It's a gorgeous piece of instrumental music!