A hundred years.

About that much time had passed since Queen Elsa, Princess Anna, and Prince Consort Kristoff were spirited away by some form of magic. Despite the documents that Princess Anna left related to the event, the Queen's Own Household were not any closer in locating them. With the war raging around the world and the German occupation of Norway, it was not getting any easier, either.

At the Arendelle State Museum, Director Christopher Oaken tirelessly scoured the crown vaults for anything that might help them in their search. Part of the Queen's Own Household since he was a young man, the middle-aged man chanced upon something unusual when he tried shifting some books on one of the many shelves.

"What is this?"

Despite moving books from the very same shelf more times than he cared to remember, only now has something caught. Carefully removing some of the books, a panel seems to have dislodged itself, revealing to him for the first time a small opening at the rear of the shelf. Reaching in, he opened the panel. Behind it was a small space containing a bound book. Thinking it might have been opened by the shaking caused by nearby explosions, he took the volume and inspected it. It was bound in leather, considerably smaller than the many tomes in the castle, and had a flap and loops to keep it closed.

Concluding that it was an object of some significance, he went to a nearby desk and opened the flap. The pages were of high-quality paper, resisting the ravages of time. The contents were all hand-written, and a considerable number of pages to the rear of the book is blank.

"This could be a journal," he realized. Inspecting the handwriting, he notes that it is likely feminine, but the penmanship is unfamiliar. Without any other indication as to its author, he resorted to reading a random entry.

August 5, 1831

The weather in the city has been odd for the past few days, causing many of the people of Arendelle to fall ill. Even
 my two daughters. Due to not having enough staff to take care of both of them, and Agdar attending to matters of
the state, I took it upon myself to care for Elsa, and Gerda tended to Anna. And given Elsa's unusual talents and what
happened the last time she was ill, I can only imagine what events will grace the pages of this journal in that period.

Oaken blinked after reading the passage. "This… This is... Queen Idunn's journal?! About Queen Elsa's powers," he exclaimed to himself. Having been born long after her disappearance, he only heard or read about the wonders of Elsa's powers from other sources. With this journal, he could see a first-hand account. Oaken continued to read.

August 6, 1831

A day since falling ill, Elsa is feverish. Restless, she kept calling Anna in her sleep. Then, in the early afternoon, it
happened. She sneezed, hard. But unlike the usual snowflakes that emerged when she was little, what appeared like
a snowball or two formed in the air right after. Then, like built-up snow falling from the castle roof, it fell to the floor
in an explosion of slush, and melted in the afternoon heat. Moving from snowflake-bogies to snowball-bogies seemed
 a large leap. But after ten years? It makes me wonder if that was it.

"Snowgies?," Oaken mused, as he recalled the account of the 19th birthday celebration of Princess Anna. Queen Elsa was down with a cold then, and she produced a large number of what came to be called "snowgies." Did this entry describe their precursor? He read on.

August 8, 1831

Elsa's condition may be coming to a peak now. She sneezed quite a bit, and every time, the snowball-bogies would
form and splatter on the floor. I needed to wipe the floor dry several times in the past two days. But this past
evening, she had a fit, sneezing three times in a row. And the outcome was nothing short of astounding. Each sneeze
added a snowball to the ones already there, resulting in four snowballs stuck together. Two larger ones, one on top of
the other, and two smaller ones, attached to each side of the bottom snowball. The mass of snowballs fell to the
ground whole, and proceeded to move towards the door - as if walking - leaving a trail of melted snow. It kept
"walking" even as the door blocked its way, until its "feet" melted and it fell sideways. Finally the rest of it melted
away. I pinched myself sore to make sure I wasn't dreaming. Elsa's abilities opened my mind to wonders unrevealed,
but this was beyond what I expected.

"Snowgies indeed," Oaken said to himself. As he started to read the next entry, he noticed some evidence of streaking and water damage on the page. He shrugged and continued.

August 9, 1831

Steady rain fell since this morning, providing a brief respite from the hot days. Elsa had a few more fits of sneezing
since my last entry, forming incomplete snowman-bogies. And every one of them seemed to struggle to get to the
door. Curiosity overcoming me, I resolved to see their intended destination if and when a complete one forms again.
And in the late afternoon, my patience was rewarded. A complete snowman-bogie was formed, with eyes and a
mouth, even.

Standing by the door, I opened it once the snowman-bogie started to walk. And as expected, it passed through the
portal, leaving small puddles in its wake. It moved rather quickly. As it walked towards the end of the hall, it turned
and headed to the nearest door. The door to Anna's room. But the snowman-bogie's feet has already melted,
causing it to stumble and slide, stopping just short of the door, and eventually melted into a puddle.

From where I stood, I heard Elsa have another fit, and not a moment too soon, another snowman-bogie marched
the same path, ending at the same spot. To me, it seemed that during all those times Anna knocked on Elsa's door
asking to build a snowman together, Elsa truly wanted to open the door and accept. And in her feverish state, she
unconsciously expressed it through her abilities. I hope and pray that she learns to control it soon. On that day, I
intend to give this to Anna, so that she might understand what happened during the years they were kept apart.

Touched by the enduring love of Elsa for Anna despite sickness and isolation, tears threatened to fall from Oaken's eyes. He promptly closed the book to protect the pages, and wiped his eyes with the back of his hand. He sat there pondering the merits of exhibiting this very personal account of Elsa's isolation, when a knock came to the door.

"Enter," he answered.

"Director Oaken," a lean man of medium height greeted as he opened the door. "Pardon the intrusion, sir, but word came from Master Jorgensen that "the sunflower had blossomed.'"

Oaken's head perked up with the news. "Sunflower" was the codeword for Princess Anna and her household. And it was only used when they received information that has a high likelihood of leading them to the princess.

"Very well. Tell the others to meet at the Royal Council Chambers in thirty minutes," he told the man while getting up from his desk. The man nodded in acknowledgement and left in a hurry. Oaken gathered the documents Princess Anna left and arranged them in a stack together with his notes and picked them up. Glancing over to where the journal was, he thought if he should pick it up as well. Finally, he decided to leave it on his desk for now. As museum director, it was his job to confirm and authenticate all finds before exhibition. And authenticating a previously unknown journal would take time. And maybe, he might have the chance to hand it over to the princess herself.

Smiling at the thought, he left the room for his intended destination, closing the door behind him.

Author's Notes:

This is my first fic in a long time, and first of Frozen. I would like to thank grrlgeek72 for allowing me to use elements in her "Tears of the Queen" AU, and for her conversations with other members of the fandom in tumblr, for without it, I could have come up with this idea.

Please review!