A/N: Thanks for clicking on my story!:)
I do not own Frozen; however, I do own my OC's.:)
It's a headcanon of mine that Elsa's great-great-great grandmother had ice powers as well; it's like a doubly recessive gene or something. This story will not have Elsa or any of the familiar canon characters in it, so please don't be thinking 'Oh, when are Elsa and Anna and Olaf and whoever else going to show up?' :P This is Elsa's ancestor's story, probably 150 years or so before her.
Also, Ingrid is NOT the OUAT character; she's my own original OC. Please don't steal her.:P
One last thing- you do not have to read my other stories to understand this one, but the parallels between Ingrid's life and Elsa's will be more obvious if you do.:)
On to the story!:)
"She's like a late Christmas present," Queen Jórunna of Arendelle said quietly, looking down at her newborn daughter. "Nathan, just look at her." The baby princess's hair was significantly lighter than her mother's blonde hair or her father's slightly darker caramel hair, to the point it almost looked white; but Jórunna neither cared nor noticed at the moment. "Ingrid Ádísa," she whispered. "That's what we'll call her. You can name our next baby, Nathan."
Nathan frowned at the baby girl in his wife's arms. "She's blue, Jórunna. She looks ill," he commented in puzzlement. Little Ingrid appeared perfectly content; she was breathing fine and simply sleeping.
Just then, the baby opened her eyes and abruptly began wailing. She quieted a moment later, the temperature in the room having dropped about fifteen degrees. Jórunna's eyes went wide when she saw tiny snowflakes floating above Ingrid's head. The baby did that! It hasn't snowed outside today, and the fire is still going on here. Those should have melted by now. Jórunna had had severe chills throughout her pregnancy to the point that she thought she might freeze to death. This explained a lot. Rumors in Arendelle said magic existed, potentially over dozens of different things, but she had never believed them. Her face hardened as she held the baby out to her husband. "I will not have a cursed thing in this castle," she announced flatly. "Take the baby and get rid of it. What will the people think?"
"Jórunna, you loved her a moment ago!" Nathan snatched the tiny baby from his wife and clutched her to his chest. "We don't even know if little Ingrid has some kind of magic. It could have been coincidence!" Even as he said that, Nathan knew that wasn't the case. Ingrid was sleeping again, but she was clutching some sort of icy…something, perhaps a snowflake, in her fist. And her coloring is all off. Neither Jórunna nor I could have given her that hair or that bluish skin. Nathan looked down at the little princess in his arms and made a decision. "Jórunna, I will not get rid of an innocent baby because she's not…a normal child. You can't tell me you think little Ingrid purposely gave herself magic. That's ridiculous and you know it."
Jórunna closed her eyes and sighed deeply. "What do you suggest we do with the baby then?"
"I don't know. I just don't know."
"Keep it away from me. That child is dangerous, Nathan. It can't inherit the throne of Arendelle," Jórunna said firmly. "What if it passes whatever curse it has to its own children?"
"Will you quit saying Ingrid is an 'it'?!" Nathan finally exploded. "I don't care if you are the one who holds the Arendelle royal bloodline and the official power. Ingrid is just a baby! You are not going to punish her because you don't like whatever happens to be wrong with her. We don't even know if cold magic is a curse. It could be just…part of her, you know."
"Like a disability," Jórunna replied darkly. "We can't have any more children, Nathan. The same thing could happen to that child as well."
"Then Princess Ingrid Ádísa Grieg is the heir to the throne simply by default. She is the crown princess of Arendelle."
As the weeks and then months passed, it became clear that Ingrid's abilities were no accident. When she cried, the temperature dropped and ice formed in her crib. When she was happy, she made that ice snowflake and just held it tightly. Jórunna continuously resented the child and felt guilty for being one of the two people that had brought the child into the world. She buried herself in political and government work and let Nathan and the servants take care of Ingrid. Arendelle's last monarch had been a horrible businessman and quite honestly not very bright, so Jórunna did her best to erase that picture with a more favorable one; and repair the damage that had been done to Arendelle's economy.
"Nathan, Ingrid is not permitted to leave the castle. Ever," Jórunna ordered one day. "If and when she becomes queen, she can do as she pleases, but until then, she stays home. Do not take her outdoors right now, either. When she's old enough to want things, she won't ask to go out if she doesn't know any better."
"What do you want to do, put her in a cage? That doesn't matter now since she's so little, but when she's older, that isn't realistic," Nathan retorted. "In fact, it's ridiculous."
When Ingrid was old enough to start walking, Nathan immediately began putting winter clothes and gloves on the little princess, not wanting all the staff to find some ice or snow the toddler left somewhere. If someone asked why Princess Ingrid was always bundled up, he and Jórunna claimed that she was sickly and grew cold easily. Half of this was true; the little girl had indeed begun falling ill often. She stayed that deathly pale bluish color, and when she did get sick, it seemed to take longer for her to recover than ordinary children.
Now four years old, Ingrid grew aware that she could create ice and snow from her bare hands. Because she had always been put in gloves as long as she could remember, it didn't occur to her that that was why she had to wear them. They were just part of her outfit to her. One day she took them off in front of her father and held an ice snowflake, the only thing she knew how to make, out to him. "I made you somethin', Daddy," the little girl said proudly.
Nathan gave a start and grabbed the snowflake and threw it into the fire before slipping Ingrid's glove back on her little hand and just picking her up. "Thank you, little roly-poly, but you are never to do that again, understand?" he said gently.
Ingrid's face puckered up as she began crying. "I not do anythin' wrong!" she cried. "I made Daddy present! But I sorry. I won't do it again. Promise."
Nathan sighed and just hugged the four-year-old close. She really was a roly-poly in all her heavy clothes. "It's all right, Ingrid. It's all right. Don't cry. Not now. Just no magic, little roly-poly, that's all." Nathan heard his wife come into the room and held little Ingrid tighter. I hope she didn't hear what was going on…
"Did she just make something with her curse?" Jórunna demanded. "What happened in here?"
"Calm down, Jórunna, it's all taken care of! Yes, she just made a snowflake made of ice. I threw it in the fire and told her not to do it again," Nathan explained.
Ingrid hopped down off her father's lap and looked up at her mother. "I won' be bad, Mommy. Promise. No more magic," she said truthfully.
Before Nathan could do or say anything, Jórunna hit the child across the face hard enough that Ingrid stumbled backwards as hurt tears ran down her cheeks. "That's not fair, Mommy!" she wailed. "I said I be good!"
"Look what you're doing right now, you cursed thing!" Jórunna exclaimed, forcing Ingrid to look down at the sheen of ice beginning to spread on the floor. "Nathan, get her under control, will you? I have work to do."
"She was under control, Jórunna! Get your vindictive, abusive self out of here!" Nathan shouted. "And give me my daughter back! If you hate her, fine! I don't! She's just a kid!"
"Fine, take it!" Jórunna shoved the child toward Nathan, and Ingrid fell in an angry crying heap.
"SHE'S NOT AN 'IT'!" Nathan bellowed after his wife's retreating figure. He angrily set his jaw before scooping his child up and looking at her face. Already one eye was swollen and turning red and purple. "I'm sorry, Ingrid," he muttered. There was no point in getting ice from the icebox in the kitchen; he knew the little girl had no temperature perception whatsoever. Still, perhaps it would help, even if she couldn't feel it. This is only going to get worse as she gets older…what am I supposed to do with her?
Ingrid only continued crying as her father carried her downstairs.
A/N: I'll warn everyone again right now that this story does not have a happy ending. I personally don't like reading tragic things if I don't know ahead of time, so...yeah. No happy ending.:/ Everything else I've written has a happy ending, but this story will not have one.
Since I rated this T, I'm not going to put any trigger warnings...I think it gives too much away too soon, depending on context. :P
Next chapter coming soon!:)
