All around the world, fans laughed and cried, applauded and cheered for Elsa the Snow Queen. They mourned her plight, they shook their fists at her enemies, they admired her fashion sense, they sang her songs, and they never got tired of hearing her story. They said it was the greatest tale their favorite storytellers had told in years and that she was the greatest princess they had ever heard of. Some thought the snowman was unworthy of being in her presence. Some were annoyed by the girl who traveled through the frozen wasteland looking for her lost playmate. Almost everyone hated the trolls, who cursed her and her parents to see only the bad parts of her powers magnified hundreds of times, and their songs that pointed out only the bad parts of people, but the one part of the story everyone loved was the Snow Queen herself.
Well, almost everyone...
Far away in an icy corner of Spitsbergen, where no humans dared to tread except two children over a century ago, where armies of snowflakes swirled around a frozen lake, dwelt someone who was not happy with Queen Elsa's warm reception. She had watched her story unfold and seen her popularity grow, as she saw everything in the Mirror Of Reason or on her journeys around the world, leaving a trail of frosted windows wherever she passed. She saw how much they loved her, and the sight made her ten times angrier than she'd been the day she came home to find her palace empty and the word eternity spelled out in chunks of ice, left there as an irremovable reminder of her greatest failure.
How dare they love her so! How dare they call her the Snow Queen! Did she command the storms of the world? Could she claim every icy land and sea on the Earth as her kingdom? Could she fly on the winter winds faster than lightning, carving beautiful, intricate patterns of frosty flowers on every window? Had they forgotten the true Snow Queen – the spirit of winter herself, made of the purest snow and the strongest ice – in favor of this pitiful human who made talking snowmen?! This was worse than that boy who had laughed at her and bragged about melting her on the stove! She would not let them mock her like this by giving some charlatan the honor that only belonged to her!
"The cold never bothered me anyway!"
"I'll show you cold!" the Snow Queen finally said one day. She would punish them all for their folly! She would teach them to fear her power again! She would show them all who was the true Snow Queen!
What shall it be? A sudden ice storm? A fierce blizzard that buried them under tons of snow? Too cliché – she did that all the time. No more boring snow or storms – this time, just cold. She raised her arms and began conjuring a wind. All the winds of her Arctic domain gathered in her grasp. Around and around her they swirled in an ever-widening circle, infused with her cold envy and hatred. Colder and bigger grew the swirling, whirling pool as she charged it with more cold wind.
"One thought crystallizes like an icy blast," she said sarcastically as she prepared her largest, iciest blast ever. When the gust had finally grown to her liking, she threw back her arms and flung the vortex like a baseball, sending it soaring across the Arctic, across the world, until it would reach North America and envelope the United States in a blanket of freezing cold air. Soon, the country that had created this upstart would be so frozen, Arendelle while trapped in Elsa's eternal winter would look like Hawaii.
"Fly, my polar vortex, and teach them to fear the true Snow Queen! Let all those who cheered for the imposter freeze and tremble before my power! Let the storm rage on!" She watched as the freezing polar vortex made its way to North America and laughed triumphantly in anticipation of her revenge. "The cold never bothered me, anyway."