Within the walls of Arendelle, a celebration was underway. The snow was melting and summer was being restored.
A lone figure was trudging through the snow, away from the safety of the palace walls, toward the still-icy tundra that lay beyond. Though he knew well the warmth that was spreading through the kingdom, he had no place in this realm. The happiness he thought he had found in this icy land was now beyond his reach. He could never return. He was not welcome.
He shivered. Looking up, he realized how much the sky had darkened. He needed to find a place to make camp for the night. He scanned the horizon. The orange flicker of a camp fire was visible in the distance. One of the mountain men? Or someone less friendly? He decided to risk the uncertainty. Being alone in the mountains at night was dangerous, especially without a fire or anything to defend oneself.
As he approached the camp, a gruff voice called out "Who goes there?" The man was remarkably large, with dark hair and ruthless features.
"Just a weary traveler," he responded. "I mean no harm. I am looking for a place to camp out for the night."
"Welcome," said another voice. This man was older, with a gray beard and softer features. "Do not mind my son. Please, come warm yourself and have something to eat."
He settled in and began to eat the bread he was offered.
"You can see the snow beginning to melt around the castle," the old man observed. "Get ready for the price of ice to skyrocket."
The younger man grunted.
The three ate in silence for several minutes, until the elder made another attempt at conversation. "Did you hear? The princess' fiancée tried to kill her today."
The old man's son rolled his eyes at this latest piece of gossip, but the traveler nearly choked on his food. The old man took this as a sign of encouragement, and continued with his story.
"Yeah. She figured out that he didn't love her, he just wanted the kingdom. So he needed to shut her up. Whatever he did, it didn't quite work. Everyone found out, and the queen banished him."
The traveler stared open-mouthed at the story. He knew for a fact that this story was utter fabrication, but he could not dispute the story without giving away his identity. Luckily, the younger man chose that moment to speak.
"Father," he said sternly. He said everything sternly. "This is women's idle gossip. Our companion does not want to hear about this."
"He was very interested in my story," the old man argued. "Weren't you?"
The traveler stuttered. "I—"
"See?" he said triumphantly. "He's speechless from my storytelling."
"It's getting late," the younger man noted, changing the subject. "I'll take first watch if you want to rest."
However, even wrapped up in the warm blankets lent to him by the mountain men, sleep would not come to the traveler. He tossed and turned, the old man's story spinning through his brain like a blizzard. They think I tried to kill her, he thought despairingly.
Only a few days before, he had traveled to this kingdom to attend the queen's coronation. Being a prince in his own land, he was representing his kingdom in showing support to the young queen. The celebration was spectacular, with delicious food, wonderful music, and charming company. The most charming of these was the queen's younger sister. The more time he spent with the princess, the more he fell in love. On a whim, a reckless idea brought on by a first love, he had proposed. She had said yes.
Not everyone was as thrilled with the engagement as the two young lovers. The queen refused to bless the engagement, saying that they did not know each other well enough. The prince suspected a deeper animosity behind her words, but he could not determine the reason for her dislike of him.
Their happiness was further shattered when his princess met the mountain man. He had fair hair and a strong build. The prince saw how much his princess loved the mountain man. She was slipping out of his grasp. He decided to make it a clean break.
To make the princess choose seemed like a cruel demand. He decided to give up, to let her go, to let her be happy with her fair-haired mountain man. So he lied to her. He said he never loved her, that he only wanted her kingdom. And then he left her in tears. He left the kingdom, not looking back. He kept walking, until he caught sight of the fire that led him to his current companions.
"If you're not going to sleep, why don't you keep watch?" the young man barked. "I'm tired too, you know."
"Sure," the prince replied. "I'll keep watch."
So the man went to sleep, leaving the prince with his thoughts. Some time later, he heard the snow shifting, and loud clopping footsteps approaching the camp. The prince stood up warily, drawing his sword.
"Who's there?" he asked into the darkness.
Another mountain man was approaching. The prince could see the broad-shouldered shape atop one of the huge elk-like creatures they kept to carry their sleds through the mountains.
"What do you want?" the prince asked warily.
"You have to help her," the shape pleaded. As he approached the firelight, the prince recognized the fair hair and youthful features. This was the man that his princess had fallen in love with. This was her mountain man.
"Is she in trouble?" the prince asked frantically. "What has happened?"
The mountain man winced as he dismounted his creature, clutching his abdomen. The prince noticed a splotch of dark color quickly spreading through the mountain man's white shirt, staining his hands crimson. The shirt had a hole in it, and through the hole a large circular wound was visible, as if he had been impaled by something, perhaps a large icicle.
The prince stared in shock. "Who has done this to you?"
"The queen," the fair-haired man gasped, falling to his knees. He closed his eyes tightly, trying to block out the pain. "She is not herself. The ice within her, it has taken over."
"And what of the princess?" the prince asked.
The man covered his mouth with his forearm and coughed. Blood splattered on his arm and into the snow. He had lowered to his hands and knees. He no longer had the strength to hold himself up. He collapsed into the snow, resting his head in the white powder. He closed his eyes.
"Please," the prince whispered.
The man opened his eyes. With a final burst of energy, he grabbed the prince's wrist, "Go to her," he pleaded. "She needs your help. I know you love her. So go to her now. You're a prince. You can give her more than I ever could." He gasped, his life leaving him. Blood trickled from his mouth, staining the snow. He looked with earnest into the prince's eyes. "She loves you too." His body went limp, and he spoke no more.
The prince stared in shocked silence. The mountain man was dead. How could he tell his princess?
His mind snapped back into focus. The princess. She was in trouble. He needed to hurry, to get to her. He looked at the mountain man's beast.
"Can you take me to the palace?" he asked. The creature stared at him blankly. "Please. I need to help the princess." It continued staring.
Just as the prince was about to turn away and chastise himself for thinking the reindeer could understand him, the beast lowered itself to the ground, grunting quizzically at the prince. He approached the huge animal, and climbed onto its back. The beast stood up, and bolted toward the palace.
The icy air stung the prince's face as the massive reindeer carried him closer to the palace and his princess. He expected the air to get warmer as he approached the castle. When he had left, the snow had begun to thaw, and summer seemed well on its way to returning. But as man and beast approached the palace walls, the snow got thicker, turning into a blizzard, and the chill set deeper into the prince's bones.
They approached the gates, and the reindeer stopped. No matter how much the prince coaxed, the beast would go no further. The prince dismounted, and entered through the castle gates alone.
The sight that greeted the prince was one of destruction. The palace square was caught in a blizzard. The fountain in the center was frozen over. Everything was covered in ice. And standing in the center of the scene was the queen.
"Snow queen, what have you done?" the prince murmured despairingly.
The queen spun around, her ice-blond hair whirling like a whip. "You," she gasped.
"Where is she?" the prince demanded.
"Who, your precious little princess?" the queen teased. "She's dying. Her heart has been frozen. Only an act of true love could save her. Too bad for her, seeing as though you left her. And her other love, well, he had a tragic accident involving an icicle. He really should have been more careful."
"That was no accident!" the prince spat.
"Believe what you will," the snow queen smirked. "I knew he would go to you for help. And I needed you back here, so I could destroy you."
"Me?" the prince asked. "Why me?"
"Oh, please," the queen rolled her eyes. "Don't play stupid. I know who you are. I know what you are. Take off your gloves. We finish this now."
The prince sighed. So she knew. He took off his gloves. Heat began to radiate from within him. Warmth spread throughout his body, out through his fingers, toes, and even through the tips of his auburn hair. He could feel the power of the heat coursing through his body.
"I heard tales from the South, of a boy with powers like mine, only different," the queen said. "At first I wanted to meet him. But the cold within me, it feared him. As I grew up, I never felt safe, knowing there was someone out there who could counter every one of my defenses. The cold, it told me I needed to protect myself. As long as you live, I will not be safe. You need to die." Bursts of ice shot from the queen's hands, knocking the prince off his feet. He felt chilled all over. He focused, and heat radiated from his center, melting the cold. He could feel the ice beneath him turn to water. Standing up, he focused all of his energy, stretched out his arms, and two beams of warm energy shot from his hands toward the queen.
She was knocked backward, but stayed standing. Looking at the prince, she laughed. "Is that all? Powers of moderate warmth? I was expecting fire and brimstone."
"My powers aren't made to destroy," the prince responded. "Unlike yours, my powers are meant for good."
The queen raised her eyebrows. "How sweet," she mocked him.
"I have not let the power take control of me," the prince continued. "You have. Please, your majesty, this isn't you. This is the ice within you, speaking through you."
"Enough," the queen roared, and more ice flew from her fingertips. This time, the prince blocked the assault. A circle of heat surrounded him, protecting him from the barrage of attacks that the queen was throwing at him.
The queen continued to assail him with ice. The shield of warmth around the prince was growing smaller. He was not sure how much longer he could keep going.
The castle door flew open. It was the princess. She took in the scene around her, the snow and cold and desolation, and she saw her sister in a whirlwind of ice. She gasped when she saw who her sister was attacking. Her blue eyes met his green ones, and she stared in disbelief.
"Hans," she breathed.
"Anna," he smiled. In spite of the ice being hurled at him, his heart was swelling with warmth and relief and love. The orb of heat that surrounded him grew bigger and bigger as warmth continued to radiate from his heart. The heat spread toward the queen, knocking her to the ground. She lay still.
"No!" Anna screamed, and started running toward them. She collapsed onto the pavement next to her unconscious sister. She drew in a shallow gasp, clutching her chest. From close up, the prince could see how much thinner and frailer Anna had become in the few hours since he had last seen her.
"Anna," Hans gently addressed the princess. "The ice in your heart. It's taking effect."
"Is she dead?" Anna asked, her lip trembling.
The queen stirred, regaining consciousness. She opened her eyes, and looked up toward her sister. "I'm so sorry," she murmured.
"Elsa," Anna whispered.
"It was the ice," Elsa told her sister. "It took control of me. It made me… I tried to destroy everything. All I could feel was the i—" she gasped. "It's gone." Elsa sat up and closed her eyes in concentration. She raised her hands. Hans watched her warily, but nothing happened.
Her eyes bolted open. "My powers," she gasped. "They're gone."
Anna looked at her sister, amazed. "Are you sure?"
"Yes," Elsa nodded.
"Queen Elsa," Hans began, "I'm so sor—"
"The ice," Elsa interrupted. "It no longer has control over me." She smiled at Hans. "Thank you."
Hans was taken aback. "You're welcome," he said finally.
Anna put a trembling hand on Hans' shoulder. "You saved her."
But I couldn't save you, Hans thought as he looked at Anna. The ice had begun to spread throughout her body. Before the prince had time to act, his princess had turned as icy and smooth and motionless as a sculpture.
"Anna," Hans whispered despairingly, holding onto one of her icy hands. He held the hand to his cheek and began to weep.
"An act of true love," Elsa said, putting a reassuring hand on Hans' shoulder.
"But you—I mean the ice—it killed him," Hans stammered. "Her true love is dead."
"She may have loved Kristoff," Elsa said, wincing at the memory of what she had done while under the spell of the ice, "but I know she loves you too. And you love her. You came back for her. Please, just try."
Hans took a deep breath, and turned toward the statue that was Anna.
"Anna," he spoke uncertainly. "I need to tell you the truth. When I saw you with Kristoff, it broke my heart. But I wanted you to be happy, so I gave you up. I thought you would be happier with him. I thought you wouldn't need me." He paused. "But now you need an act of true love. So, Anna, I hope to God that you love me, so I can wake you up." Tears began welling up in his eyes, and he held the motionless Anna tightly against his chest. "I love you, Anna. Please, wake up."
A familiar heat began to well up from within Hans' chest. The warmth spread out through his body, engulfing Anna in a warm embrace. Hans could feel the ice leaving her body.
He felt her arms wrap around him, returning the embrace. "I love you too, Hans," her small voice said in his ear.
The warmth of their embrace began spreading outward, through the courtyard, and beyond the walls of the castle. The ice began to thaw. The frost on the flowers melted, and the fountain began to flow again with warm water.
As the winter wasteland melted away, it was replaced by a resonating warmth. It was a warmth that rivaled even that of the Southern Isles.
