A Touch of Frost
It was dead calm outside and slow snowflakes were fluttering from a sky laden with heavy, gray clouds. They were carried gently through the air by a mysterious night wind, making it look like they would never reach the ground.
Between two gigantic mountains the full moon peeped out from behind the thick clouds and bathed Arendelle in cold, pale light. The mountains stood there like silent, black Giants — motionless. The blanket of snow on them was glistening; the moonlight flattered their sharp edges.
There were no stars to be seen, only the sparkling of snow in the darkness.
Elsa was sitting on the bench in front of her window, head resting on her arms, eyes looking longingly at the fantastical winter landscape outside. Finally it was happening. Finally winter had come to Arendelle. The kingdom had been under snow within a few days. Even the fjords water was frozen and Elsa felt the magic of glimmering ice.
Oh, how she would have loved to build a snowman that night.
Not a soul could be seen. From small wooden houses, warm light shone through the windows and smoke welled out of smokestacks. The kingdom got some peace, resting deep in the valley, drowsing.
The only soul awake was Elsa. She sighed, and with one single finger she traced the frame of her window dreamily. With even the most tender touch, little ice crystals were formed under her skin and the folksy wood was frozen over immediately.
Her power was a gift, but also a curse.
Then her attention was drawn to a tiny movement on the windowpane. Elsa watched in amazement as little frost patterns start to grow in the corner of the window. They quickly spread out with timid crackling. The same happened then with the upper corner of the window and soon the whole glass was covered with icy flowers. Elsa held her breath and moved to touch the cold glass ...
But suddenly the window opened and Elsa backed away, startled. Wide-eyed, she watched as the icy wind blew through her room, sent papers flying, and put out the candles on her nightstand. The chandelier on the ceiling was shaking.
And all of a sudden it was still again.
Her heart was beating loudly in her chest and she didn't dare move.
And then, just a touch of a smooth breeze stroked her right cheek, slowly, carefully, a tender caress, a breath of air. And her body was covered with comfortable goose bumps.
The touch was gone as quick as it had come. Her body was completely frozen, as if she had met a ghost. Hesitantly, she lifted a hand and touched her cheek, speechless. What had just happened?
The icy wind passed her window. Elsa came out of her daze and, bewildered, she looked out of her window again. Snowflakes were ripped from their peace and continued to totter through the air after the wind released them. Elsa's gaze followed the mysterious gust as it twirled snow up from the roofs, shook naked trees, let the ships in the fjord creak lazily.
And she thought she heard a warm, sunny laugh being carried far away by the wind, out into the cold winter night.