A/N: I'm getting an alignment glitch with the first line that I can't seem to fix. It goes away when I put an author's note above it though.
Also this chapter has been edited from its original publication. I went back to rework some things and do some light edits, nothing major.
And from the mass a voice was heard.
Then there came another
Slowly at first more arose, growing higher and higher
They spread upwards into the sky
The many became one
And the mountains sang out
Moonlight flowed in through the window and onto the head of a small bed.
Kristoff lay on his side with his back to the light. His eyes shut he limply pushed away his covers with one hand and rolled over, causing his face to fall into the light. He squeezed his eyelids tighter together and rubbed a fist in one eye. He yanked the sheet over his head and rolled over again. He lay for a moment before flinging off the covers. He clambered to the end of the bed and to the window. He looked up at the moon which was hovering just above a large tree.
"They did say we'd have to leave before dawn..." Kristoff said.
Less than two seconds passed before Kristoff jumped out of bed. "I bet it's almost morning anyway!"
He sprinted out of his room and over to the door across from him. He paused outside and slowly pushed it open and peered beyond it. It was dark inside but the bed at the edge of the room was still visible. Kristoff looked at the bed; in it two people lay asleep. He started to back away from the door when he stopped.
"They sleep a lot anyway," he said. He flung the door open and ran across the room. He leapt onto the bed and crawled to where the two faces peaked out from under the covers.
"Mom! Dad! Wake up!" He said. He bounced in place a few times.
"Tell me it's the morning," his dad said without opening his eyes.
"Morning starts before dawn, dear," his mom said.
Kristoff pulled the covers off of them. "Come on! Wake up! You said it would be today!"
His dad sat up. "Look son, I'm not entirely sure it is today. I think it might still be last night."
"But Dad, you said when the moon peaked over those trees it was morning!"
His dad fell back into a horizontal position. "Then they sure don't make nights like they used to."
His mom yawned and pulled herself up. "I think Daddy needs a little more sleep honey," she said.
"I'm up, I'm up," he said throwing his hands into the air.
Kristoff clapped his hands. "Can we leave right away? Can we?"
His mom laughed. "But Kristoff, we need to eat breakfast."
Kristoff sprung to his feet. "I'll go get it ready then!" He jumped off the bed and ran out the door.
"Are you sure he's ready?" his mom asked. "He seems so young..."
His dad leaned over and kissed her on the cheek. "That's what they all say. He'll be fine."
Kristoff's mom laughed. "And that's what they all say."
"If he has the energy to wake us up at this hour he can make it to the lake."
"But he's barely four!"
His dad climbed out of bed and pulled on his pear-shaped, square-shaped shoes. "I was three when my parents first took me to the ice. Besides, he's almost five."
His mom threw a pillow at him. "You were not either three your first day." She laughed.
"So you were there then were you?"
His mom slipped out of bed and began to dress herself. "Funny then, how neither of your parents were ice harvesters."
"There's more to ice harvesting than just heritage."
His mom rested a hand on her hip. "Like singing?"
"I'll have you know that I'm very proud of my voice."
"Sorry dear, but I need to make sure Kristoff hasn't just set fire to our home." She slipped out of their bedroom and stepped into the main room. Kristoff was heaving a pot across the floor and a pile of carrots lay on the table. She rushed over and gently lifted the pot from his hands.
"I think we may need more than just carrots to eat."
Kristoff chewed at his lip. "But the carrots are all I can reach."
Not coincidentally, his mom thought. She put the pot down on the counter and took the carrots from him.
"I was going to cook them." Kristoff said.
"I'll tell you what. You go get dressed and I'll make a nice, warm breakfast for us all, alright?"
"Alright," Kristoff said and scampered back into his room, his pajama top trailing behind him.
His mom chuckled and set a few logs in the fireplace that held a pile of glowing embers.
"Where does he get all of that energy?" Kristoff's dad said as he shuffled in.
"He gets it from your side of the family."
"Always my fault isn't it?"
She walked over and wrapped her arms around him. "He's a beautiful boy. We should feel lucky to have him."
"Is breakfast ready?" Kristoff shouted as he bounced half-dressed into the room.
"Oh, I do. I do."
By the time Kristoff's attire had been properly adjusted and breakfast had been prepared and eaten the merest hints of sunlight had begun to poke up over the horizon. Kristoff's father brought their horse out from the stable and reined it to the sled. His mom carried their tools, some food, and other necessities to it. Kristoff, in turn, did his part by carrying out the critical task of carrying the lantern out to the sled. Kristoff kept his distance from the horse, Krutt they called him, and skirted around the sled to avoid it. Once Kristoff was in the sled he started to laugh and as old Krutt started to go, pulling the sled behind, Kristoff began to bounce.
"You could get hurt if you jump around like that!" His mom grabbed him and held him in place.
"No I wouldn't! I never fall. Even if I did the snow would catch me!"
"I still want you to be more careful than that."
"C'mon! Let him have a little fun. This is a big day for him."
"And what a disappointment it would be if we had to turn back to fix up Kristoff's broken skull."
"Here, let me have the boy."
"No! I'm not letting you near him."
Kristoff felt a tad like luggage but by now he was used to being held in laps or changing hands. But being used as a tug-a-war rope was a new one. Of course it was kind of fun.
Finally, his dad gave up. "Suit yourself. It's going to be a long trip. Longer than he's used to anyway."
"I don't care," Kristoff said. "I love this sled!"
After a lull had passed over them his dad pointed to a tall shadow in the distance. It was surrounded by other mountains but the one he pointed too stood out amongst them all. It towered over the others. "See that mountain son?"
"I see it," Kristoff said after giving it a half-second's glance.
"That's the Northern Mountain. It's the tallest peak in all of Arendelle. Some say the world even. Oh, I've heard tales of mountains in far, distant, places that were bigger even it. But I figure that no matter what the height may be, nothing on earth could look more majestic than that."
Kristoff looked back at the mountain, staring long and hard this time."What made it so big?" he asked. "And what does 'majestic' mean?"
"Majestic means big and wonderful. As for the mountain, some of them are just big. But I've heard tales that this mountain was built to imprison an evil queen who tried to cast the entire kingdom into an eternal winter. But to this day her powers remain, making the top of the peaks stay cold all year."
"Wooooow, is that true?"
"Well of course it is! Why once I climbed up that mountain myself and when I got to the top it was covered with ice! The ghost of the evil queen flew about, freezing anything she say! Snow monsters ran around. There was a great big dragon and a bunch of little people. The little people were trapped up there, slaves to the evil queen!"
"What happened?" Kristoff said.
"Well, after I fought off all of the snow monsters using nothing but my bare hands I captured the queen!"
"Really?!"
"Of course! And when I did I made her let all of the little people go! She promised to never hurt another person. And I told her that if she ever tried to that I'd send my son after her and teach her a good lesion! That straight-up scared her to pieces. So we'll never have to worry about any ice queens anymore!"
Kristoff clapped his hands. "I want to climb the Northern Mountain too!"
"Someday when you're older," his mom said. "But when you do everyone is going to cheer for you! You'll go down in history as Kristoff the great. The most skilled mountain climber of all time."
"Someday I will," Kristoff said. "I really am going to climb that mountain."
"Of course you are honey." His mom said with a smile.
Kristoff begged for more stories of heroic deeds and of the little people. And his parents never seemed to run out of them. They continued onward with the sled full of laughing and tales of far-off lands and distant people, of magic and heroic deeds. These stories carried them through the mountains faster than a ship at full sail until old Krutt halted and they came to a stop, just as they were telling Kristoff of how his mom had saved the kingdom from and evil wizard.
As soon as the sled stooped Kristoff jumped up to look around. They had emerged from the woods and into a clearing. Mountains towered above them in all directions. And of course it was impossible to miss the frozen lake that lay in front of them. Horses, carts and ice harvesters were scattered about. The site of the lake and of the people walking across the ice brushing away the snow seemed to mesmerize Kristoff.
"Is this really it?" he said.
"This really is it," his mom said. She picked him up and carried him down from the sled. As soon as she touched ground he sprung from her arms and ran through the snow, kicking clumps of it and sending them piling every which way.
"This is great!" he shouted.
"Keep off the ice until we get there alright?"
"Alright!" Kristoff shouted.
"This is the perfect day for this," his dad said as he handed a bundle of tools down to his mom.
"It is. Last time Kristoff would have frozen his little nose off."
"Speaking of let's catch up to the little ball of energy."
"look! the snow's all sticky!" Kristoff called. He tossed a sloppily made snowball into the air and tried to catch it. His hands missed but his face was dead-on.
"That's because it's so warm out," his mom said.
Kristoff wiped the snow from his face. "But if it's warm won't the ice melt?"
"Well it would," his dad said. "But the lake's been frozen all winter. It'll take more than a day or two of warm weather to melt the ice on the lake. Especially with a winter as cold as the one we had."
"What does 'especially' mean?"
"It means even more," his mom said. "It means to be even greater. You could say that you're an especially brave child."
Kristoff mouthed the word a few times before returning to his bouncy self. "Can we go on the ice now? Can we?"
His mom knelt down next to him. "I'll tell you what. Right now all of the ice harvesters are getting ready to cut the ice. We need to stay out of their way so let's wait at the edge of the lake right now. Is that alright with you?"
"Are you an ice harvester?"
"Yes I am. And you dad is too."
"Alright, I can wait."
"I can wait with you. My part won't come in for a little bit. Until then we can watch dad work."
"What does dad do?"
His mom sat down in the snow next to the ice. "Your dad takes a saw and cuts the ice. It starts it for all of us. We can't harvest the ice until it's cut."
"Can I help him?"
"I think we should just watch for now."
So they watched as his dad and the other harvesters gathered in a line. Each of them held a saw still for a moment before they plunged them into the ice at once. They moved together and after a few strokes they began to hum. Soon they built up a rhythm and they began to sing.
"Born of cold and winter air
and mountain rain combining..."
"What are they doing mom?" Kristoff asked.
"They're singing honey."
"Oh."
"This icy force both foul and fair
has a frozen heart worth mining."
"Why are they singing?"
"It helps them keep rhythm."
"What's rhythm?"
"it means that when they sing that they can work together better. See how they all move at the same time? The singing helps that."
"So cut through the heart, cold and clear.
Strike for love and strike for fear.
See the beauty sharp and sheer.
Split the ice apart!
And break the frozen heart."
"What do those words mean, mom?"
His mom took a breath. "Those words have been sung by ice harvesters for as long as I can remember. I don't really know where it came from. But if you listen to it you might be able to figure out what it means."
Kristoff sat silently and listened.
"Beautiful!"
"Powerful!"
"Dangerous!"
"Cold!"
"Ice has a magic can't be controlled.
Stronger than one, stronger ten
stronger than a hundred men!"
Kristoff looked up at his mom. "It kind of sound like they're afraid. Like the ice scares them. Is ice that scary?"
"Well," his mom replied. "It isn't all about being scared. The ice harvesters risk their lives every day taming the ice. Ice is a lot like life in some ways. It can be dangerous or beautiful. I think the song's about how we can tame both the ice and life a whole by loving it."
"Do you love the ice mom?"
"Yes, Kristoff, yes I do."
Kristoff watched as the harvesters kept singing and cutting the ice.
"Can I go on the ice now mom?"
"You'd better wait a little while longer." His mom got up and grabbed a pair of tongs. "But my jobs will be needing to get done soon. Can you wait without me for a little bit?"
"Alright," Kristoff said. He sat and listened to them as they continued to sing and watched his parents work. They continued cutting the ice, pulling it out of the water, and splitting it into pieces. After a while his parents broke away from the rest and walked to the edge of the ice by Kristoff. While Kristoff found something of interest poking out of the snow.
Kristoff's dad walked up beside his mom. "Me and a few of the others were going to go further in. This will be our last stop of the season so we may as well go a bit deeper."
"Alright. I'll go check on Kristoff."
His dad turned back and walked closer to the center of the lake. Then men around started another round to the song.
"Born of cold and winter air
and mountain rain combining..."
"How are you doing?" Kristoff's mom asked.
"Fine," Kristoff said without looking up.
"What's that you're looking at honey?"
Kristoff's dad and the other men got into position at the center of the lake. They waited a moment to build up a rhythm with the other singers.
"This icy force both foul and fair
has a frozen heart worth mining."
Kristoff toyed with the small green sprout that poked out from the snow. "Look," he said. "It's a coltsfoot. Just like you said. See the stem?"
"What?" his mom murmured. She leaned in closer to examine the sprout.
"Cut through the heart, cold and clear."
His mom wrapped her arms around Kristoff as though the little flower might leap up and attack them. "But it's early. Much to early..."
"Strike for love and strike for fear."
His mom's gaze shot up to see the men standing in the center of the lake, about to plunge their saws into the ice. She leapt to her feet and ran onto the ice.
"No!" she shouted.
"There's beauty and there's danger here!"
"Get off the ice!"
Some of the men looked up but in those in the center of the lake slid their saws into the ice.
"Split the ice apart!"
Crack.
The world stood still as the resounding noise split through the air. The ice buckled, letting out another crack. Across the ice men dropped their tools and ran for shore.
Kristoff sprang to his feet. "Mom! Dad!"
"Stay there Kristoff!" His mom ran across the ice, fighting past the people rushing in the opposite direction. Another crack exploded from the lake and the ice began to cave in. Dark water sloshed up between the frozen sheets. The men scrambled off the shifting ice. Kristoff fought to see what was going on as the harvesters began to run past him. When he was able to break through he saw the ice collapsing in the center of the lake. People fell in. His mom slid to a halt at the edge of the break. Around her the harvesters pulled themselves out of that water. His mom was shouting something.
Kristoff saw his dad burst out from the water and grab onto the ice. But as soon as he hauled himself out of the water the ice broke off, once again plunging him into the lake. Kristoff's mom jumped into the water after him.
"Mom! Dad!" Kristoff shouted again. Why isn't anyone helping them? he thought.
Around him people were running every-which-way. Kristoff strained to see the water, to try and see his parents.
There was a splash and his mom broke the surface. She had his dad in her arm. She fought to make it out of the water but plunged back under. A few seconds later they burst out again only to sink once more. Kristoff watched, eyes wide as they dipped below the surface. But this time they didn't come back up.
"No!" Kristoff started to run onto the lake but he stopped mid stride. The ice was cracked and glared up at him menacingly. He looked back to where his parents were. He stared down at the ice. He turned and ran. None of them men noticed him. None of them followed him as he made his way through the trees, tripping and stumbling with tears streaming down his cheeks. He ran until his legs buckled somewhere in the forest. Tears streaked down his cheeks and he let out a low wail.
He felt a pair of warm arms wrap around him. "Don't cry," crooned the voice. "Everything will be alright." The warm arms held him and the soft voice whispered comfort into his ears until Kristoff cried himself to sleep.