Hello and welcome to my first Frozen fanfiction:) I started writing this a year ago, but I didn't have the guts to post it until now... I'm very nervous about it. I love Frozen to death and wouldn't want to spoil it any way.

Just some quick info about the story: this is going to be a proper plot, and hopefully a long one. I've already planned it out in my head. However, there is plenty of fluffiness and humor along the way (because Frozen isn't Frozen without fluffiness and humor!) This story will have a little bit of everything: romance, sisterly love, darkness, humor, adorableness, suspense, etc. You name it, this story will have it. No character will remain neglected. And I'm going to try to combine plenty of detail with the humorous dialogue that made the movie so funny.

This is a prologue chapter, so it's darker and more wordy than the other ones will be. Please give the story a chance anyway - after this chapter, everything will be a lot lighter and much less doom-and-gloom, I promise!

Thanks so much for reading, and please continue on to the next chapter so you get a glimpse of what the rest of the story will be like. And please review with your opinions on my story and tell me how I can improve! ;)

Disclaimer: I don't own Frozen, but someone PLEASE find me a way to own ice powers.

PROLOGUE: DEATH'S EMBRACE

She was lurching desperately across the ice, eyes widened in terror, breathing heavily as she shivered in the frigid air. Her right arm was numb; dead, like her heart. Though her arm had been damaged greatly, rent with claw marks and scrapes, she felt no pain; the nerves near the top of her arm had been severed, preventing any pain she may have felt. Yet she could not bear to focus on her arm now, not when Death was lurking so close, waiting to embrace her and drag her down to his realm of shadow. Her instincts told her to run, run as far away as she could, and her eyes obliged her instincts as they darted around to find an escape route. But the truth was that there was nowhere to go, nowhere to run but into the great black maw of that… that thing behind her, waiting to devour her very spirit, or into the hands of the group of men that was attempting to capture and execute her.

But her sister. What about her sister, who had always been there for her and who was even now supporting her and protecting her as they ran? She wouldn't let that beast get her sister. No one would even be allowed to touch her sister, not after all of the wonderful things she'd done.

Her thoughts were interrupted by a sharp pain in her side. Glancing down, she discovered, to her horror, that a crossbow bolt had slammed into her side, fired by one of the men chasing after her. A patch of blood bloomed on her dress like a malicious rose, spreading outwards until it had encompassed her entire right side. Scarlet droplets of blood trickled down her dress and splashed onto the ice below her feet, tinging it red, as she stumbled and collapsed to her knees. Beside her, her sister knelt down to help her rise, but she could not – it felt as though a vial of acid had been spilled on her side, and she could not bring herself to move. And there was pain, a vast and unfeeling pain, coursing through her veins and pooling in her heart. The ice was leaving her and when it did, she would be useless, a broken tool that matched her broken soul.

Then she realized that someone was shaking her, begging her to rise. It was her sister, of course. Her sister, who had always been there for her and was still trying to encourage her and save her. Now a malicious warmth was pulsing through her, whispering to her to give up and breath her last, and every beat of her failing heart brought a fresh wave of pain. There was no point in fighting to live when death was inevitable. But she banished the tempting warmth and stood with a sudden burst of courage. She would fight for life – she owed her sister that much.

Before they continued their seemingly endless journey across the frozen fjord, her sister tore a strip off of her dress and tied it in a makeshift bandage around her wounded side, taking care to avoid the crossbow bolt embedded in her skin. They then resumed running, followed by the only three people who had helped them escape. Yet when she turned around, their faces swam before her eyes; she was too dizzy to focus on any one thing but the comforting arm of her sister wrapped around her waist.

A sliver of the great beast's thought wormed its way inside her head. You cannot escape from me. I see all things. I am the Bringer of the Night and the Son of the Darkness, summoned but for one purpose: to kill you and devour your spirit. Your soul, once full of joy and power, is now weak and being consumed by the ice, but there is enough of it left to satisfy me.

What is your name? she dared to ask with her mind, fearing the answer but knowing she must ask.

I am your Stillhet! An inky cloud of pure shadow formed in front of her, recognizable as a creature only by two glowing red orbs of fire that served as eyes. The roiling clouds of shadow beneath its eyes moved apart to create a vague crescent shape, and she realized that it was leering at her.

But what do you want of me? she begged. I have no use to you: I am broken and close to death; surely my soul is already mostly extinguished. What more can you desire?

Your soul still burns with life and spirit – I can sense it even now. A brave but futile effor to deter me, Child of Ice. You shall not survive this day. I shall rip your soul from your body and, because of your foolish sister's fruitless sacrifice, your last sight shall be the face of your dear sister as I capture her spirit along with yours. There is no escape from this. The beast narrowed its glowing eyes, collected itself into a coiling mass of darkness, and flung itself straight at her unprotected heart, prepared to devour her spirit which was slowly flickering and dying like a candle flame.

The last thing she heard was the panic-stricken cry of her sister. "Elsa!"

Gasping and panting, Elsa shot up from her bed. She groped around for her waist and arm and felt them to check that they were uninjured before she allowed herself to relax and fall back on the bed. Her mind was racing, and her heart felt like it was pounding right out of her chest. In a futile attempt to calm herself, she pressed a quivering hand to her head, but her effort was useless as she expected – her mind was now alert for danger.

Suddenly she realized that she had unconsciously frozen her room in her sleep. Her bed was a solid lump of ice, the windows were mottled with blooming curls of frost and were probably frozen shut, and the carpet was buried underneath a gentle covering of fine, powdery snow. But Elsa couldn't unfreeze it. She just couldn't. Not yet – she wanted nothing to do with her powers now, not after that nightmare.

A nightmare. Was it really just a nightmare? Still immersed in thought, Elsa turned onto her back and stared hard at the frosted ceiling, already having decided not to mention her vision to anyone else. As she drifted into an uneasy sleep, she could not shake the thought that the dream had been too vivid to be a dream…. It had been more like a premonition.

Stillhet means 'silence' in Norwegian, btw. Hope you enjoyed the first chapter. Now, continue onwards to the beginning of the sisterly adorableness!