The duties of a king are many and varied, King Mikkel of Arendelle thought with a sigh as he reached for the next paper atop the rather large stack on his desk. He was grateful that most of these documents had been written by the council; all they needed from him was his signature. He was far too exhausted to deal with the finer points of international alliances tonight. The single oil lamp lighting his desk was beginning to burn low, and he had recently heard the church tower's clock strike midnight. His eyelids were getting heavy, and he knew he should probably make his way to his chambers, tried to entice himself with images of his plush bed, but suddenly his chair felt so much more comfortable as he started to drift off with his head resting on his arms, aware but not really caring that he was smudging the ink.

All thoughts of sleep were banished from his mind when his wife came bursting through the heavy oak doors to his study, clad only in a nightgown and her slippers, her simple braid coming undone and the worry lines on her face more pronounced with her frown. She was gasping, her hand clutching at the fabric of her nightgown over her heart, yet despite being so clearly out of breath she was still trying to speak.

"She's not…come…hurry," she forced out between huge gulps of air, all the while moving towards him, then trying to pull him out the door, but he was still too tired and too confused to really follow along.

When she'd first burst through the doors, several possibilities had occurred to him. The first being an attack on Arendelle, but he'd dismissed that upon hearing no screams or chaos coming from anywhere. The next had been fire, but again, no chaos. Next he'd thought of a potential problem with the servants, but it made no sense for his wife to be the one informing him of that. It wasn't until after she said 'she' that Mikkel's thoughts drifted towards Anna with a sinking feeling in his stomach. Perhaps she had finally managed to do herself serious harm sliding down the banisters, which had recently become her favorite pastime. But thoughts like those only led to panic, and he would be no good to anybody if he let himself panic, so he determinately pushed those thoughts away.

Once it became clear that she had no intentions of stopping to explain herself, Mikkel grasped her firmly by the shoulders and turned her around, keeping her from going any further. He frowned at the dampness of her gown, and when he pulled his hands back, he noticed them on his palms, small and mostly melted, but undeniably snowflakes.

Elsa.

The sinking feeling was back, but this time it was impossible to push away.

"What's happened Camilla," he asked gravely.

Camilla took several steadying breaths, and Mikkel could now see how truly distraught she looked as she fought back against the tears gathering in her eyes. The answer she gave him was not at all what he'd expected, with implications far more severe than he wanted to think about.

"She's gone."

Elsa's room was beyond repair. Mikkel stepped carefully over the compact snow that covered every surface of her room. Broken shards of ice were scattered about, and a thick layer of frost covered all of the walls, as well as the room's only window. Icicles hung from the ceiling, along with several that had sprouted from the walls, most of them appearing to be broken while some of them had been twisted into unnatural shapes. The canopy above her bed was torn in several places and most of her furniture was broken or chipped. Snowflakes stayed suspended in the air, so thick that it was nearly impossible to see to the other side of the room, excepting a small path cut through the air that looked to lead straight to the bed. Mikkel assumed that that was where Camilla had run to check on their daughter. The room was eerily still and the air so bitterly cold that his eyes and throat were beginning to sting. Cautiously, he stepped forward, although he doubted he would find any valuable evidence here.

Miraculously, the ice had not left the confines of her room, other than making her door cold to the touch. As much as he was thankful that his daughter had always managed enough control to prevent anyone else from discovering her curse, he had to admit that a trail to follow would be incredibly helpful. As it was, he was now faced with the task of finding a potentially dangerous and clearly distraught heir that next to no one knew on sight, without telling anyone why she might be missing in the first place.

His mind was already working furiously. He suspected it was between one and two in the morning, so if Elsa had lost control once she'd left the castle (and it was obvious she had; if she was going to stay in the castle, she never would have left her room), chances are that no one would have been out to either notice or be injured. The next question was how she had left the castle in the first place, as the main gates were guarded constantly. There were several other ways out of the castle, but most of them were hidden well enough that he doubted Elsa would have been able to find them. Perhaps she had left her room with the intent of leaving, but had ultimately been unable to do so? Although, if she had left, there was the question of mounting a search. He and Camilla couldn't very well go looking on their own, but if they did send soldiers, how was he supposed to prepare them for possible danger without telling them what they may be facing? Another part of him wondered if he would be able to live with himself for sending armed soldiers after his daughter with the advice of viewing her as a potential threat, but that part was by now so well buried that the thought barely even registered.

His train of thought was interrupted by a strangled whimper coming from his left. He looked over to see Camilla, shivering from the cold, with a hand over her mouth and the tears she had been fighting with rolling down her cheeks.

"She must be so scared," she whispered, and Mikkel felt guilt drop like a heavy stone into his stomach. All this time he had been so concerned with getting Elsa back to the castle before anyone found anything out, with concealing, that he hadn't spared one thought for how his own daughter must be feeling. Instead of dwelling on that horrible thought for too long, he changed the subject.

"We'll have to mount a search," he declared. "I suppose that we should start here just in case she hasn't left yet, but if she has I'll have Kai gather the most trusted members of the guard to look for her."

It went unsaid that everything would have to be done in secret; the last thing they needed was panic in the city when word got out that the princess was missing. Rumors were sure to start up quickly after that, and that was another bit of damage control they could all do without. Quickly, they stepped out of the room, the doors closing on the evidence anything was amiss with a final 'thud'. Wordlessly, they made their way back down the hall. Several minutes later they found themselves at the entrance to the hall leading to Anna's room. Mikkel briefly wondered if he was compensating for his inability to care for one daughter by reassuring himself that he hadn't completely failed the other, that she was still safe and sound asleep in her bed. Pressing his ear against the door, he could hear the sound of Anna's soft snores coming through and felt a small smile tug at the corners of his mouth. She was alright, that was good. One less thing to worry about.

"I suppose we'll get more done before morning if we separate now," Camilla whispered, mindful of her sleeping daughter not ten feet away. "I'll search the ground floor and the grounds if you search the upper floors and the walls."

Her tears had stopped falling during the short walk to Anna's room, replaced by a new found determination to fix everything before it became a problem too large to handle.

"Alright," Mikkel agreed quietly before drawing his wife into his arms and placing a gentle kiss on her forehead. If Camilla was surprised by his unusual display of affection, she didn't show it. She curled herself against his chest and allowed herself to be comforted, although it was unclear who was receiving the most benefit from this. With one last shuddering breath, she pulled away, sent him a small, sad smile, and turned away to begin her search. Mikkel watched her go for a moment before beginning his own search, the fear and anger and confusion he was feeling swirling at the edge of his thoughts, but he refused to allow them to impede his judgment. He had around five hours left until dawn, and he was determined not to waste a single second of them.

AN: Short, I know, but the chapters should get longer. I can't even tell you guys how much it kills me inside that the King and Queen died before realizing what a massive mistake they'd made, or seeing what wonderful people their daughters turned out to be, so I'm giving them the chance. This story takes place about a year after they would have died in the movie, making Elsa 19 and Anna 16.

Also, a question: when you have alerts or stories, are you supposed to get notified about reviews and updates and things like that via email? If so, is there an on switch for that, 'cause it's never worked for me. Thanks.

Inspiration for the title comes from Radical Face's song of the same name, which basically sums up how I imagine Elsa's childhood going. I encourage you guys to listen to it.