The Legend of the Frozen Heart
Summary: Three years ago, Elsa took the throne in the Kingdom of Arendelle. Since then, she has learned a lot about herself. Elsa discovered she prefers early morning walks around the castle. She likes hiking the trails around the fjords, and Elsa loves the small family that she and her sister have built since opening up the gates.
Despite all the successes though, one scar proves there is still much to be known about Elsa's history. She and her family find themselves on a journey through Scandinavia in search of the true source of Elsa's powers. It is their hope that the answers they find will be the final ingredient needed to control Elsa's wintery ways.
Yet, learning this new information won't provide the comfort that Elsa so desperately needs.
For those who: Enjoy Scandinavian folklore, are interested in seeing HCA's 'The Snow Queen' better tied into Frozen, believe Disney's trolls were too 'fluffy', and like to suffer. This is the story for you.
Rating: T for violence, sexual situations, and mild language
Disclaimer: M does not own Disney. If she did, she'd be rich. And no, no Olaf will not be joining us.
PROLOGUE
Ice.
Ice as far as her eyes could see. Every direction, crusted in glass-like shards; it mocked her.
Yet, visibility was fleeting.
As the storm raged on, everything beyond the forest was lost behind a wall of snow. Frost had slithered up the trunks of trees. Ice dangled down from branches. Piles of snow rose up from the ground and formed a prison cell around her. She was being consumed by her powers- her powers which had never harmed her physically before.
A hand to her ice, with no frost-bite. A storm with vengeance, and she weathered it warm. The cold had never bothered her, but this was different.
This was out of her control.
Her fear only grew as her feet were entrapped. Swirls of magical ice circled up her calves and settled against her thighs. She was one with the forest floor. She was frozen in place. From this spot she would reign, just as history had intended. Soon, she'd be the second statue marking the downfall of these lands. She'd be the final reminder that people like her should not be permitted to exist.
She had failed the promises she made to her family.
But the prophecy, she'd hold true.
A last gasp of air stilled in her chest. Pain sliced through her muscles as tendrils of ice burrowed in between her ribs. The torment condemned any final thoughts of escape, and weakened and sore, she felt her body surrender to the cold.
A sliver of ice grappled onto the wall of her heart. It beat desperately to warm itself back up. But slowly, as if hesitating to question the nature of the heart itself, the ice began to spread.
She had fallen victim to the transformation, and as ice overtook her heart, she found she no longer felt anything at all.
Away, went the pain.
Away, went the fear and the noise.
She was filled with a soundless nothing, and she mistook that nothingness for content.
Her eyes glazed to white.
Her hair, braided and wild, stuck still.
Away, went her home.
Away, went the love Away, went the light.
Away, went Queen Elsa of Arendelle.
Cheers,
-M