Spoiler: I haven't seen Jurassic World, but I wanted to make this prompt happen. Credit for the prompt goes to rachetelsakicksass on tumblr. I own no intellectual properties of anyone, save my own interpretation of how this goes down, and I don't know if I even own that.

I sat against the wall, watching her mirror me. I'm Anna, a janitor for Jurassic World. I'm not the only janitor of course. Have you ever seen the messes kids leave behind, if they throw a tantrum? That's why there's more than one of us. In fact, there was this one ti- Oh, right; I was telling you something.

This job was supposed to be a simple stop-gap for me, while I figured out the legal ends of my parents' inheritance. I mean, sure: dinosaurs. I was in the place that had dinosaurs. But I'm not 5, and dinosaurs are in no way cool anymore. So I was just going to mop and scrub for the dinosaur zoo until I didn't have to anymore, or at least I thought.

There was a girl, that they literally dug out of a glacier. Supposedly, she fell into a lake around 150 million years ago. I don't know how that happened, since humans supposedly weren't even around for that long, but there she is.

What do you do with a person that's not from your world, when there's no way to send her home? The humane thing to do, the scientists say, is to give her a habitat that they think emulates her own, and enclose it, with only a few ways for us to get in, and only a couple observation windows. So there's a big viewing port, and people pay actual money to see her through glass. She's baited with what we think she ate, of course, but sometimes she looks at the other people there.

You'd think it was enough, that she's living in a gilded cage, but it doesn't stop there. She's treated like a dinosaur – at least, she used to be. Originally, she was put in an enclosing unit beside the dinosaurs. We quickly learned that she freaked them out. And that's where things get altogether otherworldly.

See, when she's spooked, she literally creates ice. Yes, water in solid form. It comes from her. Don't ask me how – all the white-jacketed flunkies would tell me, was that she had strange abilities to affect the temperature around her. The first time I saw her, I realised what it was that they didn't want to say. Magic.

The first time I walked into the room where people view her through a large, transparent, port, she became very frightened. She didn't turn tail and run into the undergrowth like I thought she would, though. She instead stood there, with this wildly bewildered look in her eyes. Who could blame her? I was there past the time she normally saw people. She sat against a small rock, and watched me. I went about my cleaning duty, sweeping up popcorn, candy wrappers, and mopping vomit. Then I realised something. She wasn't sitting in a sub-tropical environment anymore, but a near polar one! Snow fell from a clear sky, the temperature-controlled greenhouse she lived in was frigid, and there was snow and ice covering the ground around her.

She normally wears a cotton blouse and baggy pants, but they were gone. In their place, a radiant gown of icy fractals, glittering in the light of the afternoon. I looked closer, and it indeed was ice. Not just a gown either, but heeled shoes of ice, and a gauzy train. She sat there, the brilliant emerald of her ankle bracelet glimmering with her safely in the greenhouse. A more tranquil, subconsciously frightened, more regal, woman sat in the place of the girl who only know how to make one sound. Elsa.

We sat there, on opposite sides of the glass, watching each other. I never had seen her ability in action before, and magic is the only word to describe what I saw. Flakes of crystal ice flew around her, inserting themselves into her wild hair, and gathering around her right hand. As she smirked suddenly, I got the idea that something was gravely wrong. I stood, contemplating what I should do.

Obviously, I should have slapped the giant red panic button on the wall. Obviously, I shouldn't let someone just breach the enclosures that cost more than the building housing them. Obviously, I should worry about my job. But I didn't. I just exhaled, and let her cut through the multiple barriers between us, alarms and shouts blaring all around us.

I was just sitting in the theatre seats, trying to stay calm, when the commotion stopped. My heart would have too, if it had realised what was about to happen. The temperature in the room dropped, and the cries and roars stopped. Everything stopped, and snow floated lazily in front of my eyes. At the time, I didn't realise how absurd it was: I was a little girl for a moment, giggling, as I pushed a flake of the stuff end over end. It sailed right into the girl's pale face.

At this range, I could see her faint freckles, dotting her pale skin. The colour of her hair, I'd learned, was platinum blonde, and no one knew how it grew naturally. It was, whatever the explanation. Her eyes stared at me, blinking slowly. Doll-like, they darted around my complexion, furtively. The icy irises in them watching, observing, caressing every detail of her surroundings.

My breath caught, and I was shocked. My fighting instincts fled me, and I just sat there. Just a few paces from me, she stood proudly, watching me, waiting for my inevitable reaction. The guards were literally frozen into solid ice. There was snow, and everything faded to blackness.

xXxXx

When I came to, I was laying on a cold, hard, surface. A grating sound assaulted my ears, and I opened my eyes. A usual summer day greeted me, with the partial clouds of a departing storm. The sun burned its warmth into me, and I let my eyes fall shut in self-preservation.

With only the grating sound in my ears, and the vibration of being dragged, I felt my surroundings. Cold hardness pressed against my back, and I could feel nothing else. Upon running my fingers along the surface I was on, I guessed it was ice. Pure, bitterly cold, ice. On the upside, feeling meant that my fingers were working, and the pain in my eyes meant that I could still see.

Cautiously, I opened my eyes, and attempted to loll my head. I soon found myself tonguing my love into a pillow- of ice. With a yelped cry of shock, I jerked upwards, only for the sudden motion to make me dizzy.

While I attempted to recover balance, screwing my eyes shut and holding my head in my hands, the grinding noise from below stopped. It was then that I looked up, and saw what I was on. A pure slab of ice, grinding its way along the stony ground of a forested area, pushed by forces unseen.

A tinkling laugh caught my attention, and my head jerked in the sound's direction, frantically. The girl from Jurassic World stood there, still in the gown of ice shards. Laughing.

At once it hit me, that I was actually in the presence of a person called a witch, but my brain wouldn't let me rest now. I looked back at her, taking in her details. She'd always been a bit skittish, when people came up to her viewing port. Now, she let me look at her closely.

The gown looked like what a goddess of myth might wear, if they wore ice. Framing her lightly curving body, the ice behaved like any blend of silks and cottons I'd ever seen. From somewhat feminine arms, to slight shoulders, the gauzy material seemed to accent the apparent frailty of her skin. Her clavicle didn't show too much, and the luxuriously smooth skin travelled downwards, only covered with sheer ice, showing a little cleavage. Her bodice was what is now called shirred, enshrouding the matronly lines of her appearance. Looking downwards, the dress wrapped around plainly voluptuous hips, opening at the approximate knee of her leg. With a dramatic slitted parting, the gown fell to the ground, covering what I had seen to be elegant shoes of crystalline ice. When my vision returned up, I took in her wild hair, frizzy in its basic form, flowing over her shoulders, like a snowy waterfall. There were snowflakes embedded in the tresses, and crystals of the same were adorning her elfin ears.

I returned my sight to the girl's clear clue eyes, and she smiled. Pointing to herself, she said only one word, "Elsa." Returning the gesture, I pointed at my heart and breathed, "Anna."

A/N: I know it's heartcrunchingly cute and it's a good idea, but it's actually extremely hard to write. Still, the reviews mean a lot to me. Love you all, you perverted bums, of which I am one. 3