Your majesty, what is it?
Iduna, please. I'd like to think we're still friends.
Iduna, then. You seem... on edge lately. Is it something with the baby?
Nothing obvious seems wrong, but I just get this feeling that something is going to happen, and I'm not going to like it.
"As you are anointed with the holy properties, and are held in this holy place, I hereby name you Princess Elsa of Arendelle!"
The baby girl gurgled happily. Her father, King Agnarr, lifted her out of her mother Iduna's arms, and passed her gently to the bishop. Bishop Haldor gently took the girl, smoothing a crinkle in her creamy christening gown. Soon, the girl would be the legally baptized princess of Arendelle. He lifted her and dipped her in the water.
Elsa giggled and splashed her feet. A few drops flew, sparkling, out of the basin. Iduna caught one of them, then flinched, but no one noticed. The royal family proceeded through the castle to the balcony, the bishop in front with the princess. Out in the snowy courtyard, the people waited.
Haldor lifted the princess high. As a sunbeam broke through the gray winter day, it rested on Elsa, just like that was what it meant to do. The people bowed low, their winter finery turning the drab courtyard into a sea of color. The baby princess laughed, kicking her satin-slippered feet, her blue eyes sparkling, as her father smiled proudly. Snow began to fall lightly, and the crowd dispersed. The royal family went inside, each to their separate rooms. King Agnarr went to his study, to write up an announcement of Elsa's birth to send to other kingdoms. Elsa was taken to her newly refurbished room- the old royal rooms were in the west wing, which had been closed off. And Iduna went to her old room- the one she had played in, slept in, and grown up in. It was, like all the other old royal rooms, in the locked west wing, but Iduna had the key. In fact, Iduna had a lot of keys.
Her keyring was small and dainty, but not all of the keys were. She brushed her hand over fine gold metalwork and silver filigree before coming to a heavy iron key. She looked around once, then fitted it to the lock. It clicked neatly, a perfect fit. The double doors swung open, then closed softly behind her. A brass key with a soft blue tassle fits the lock of a door in an upstairs hallway, and for the first time since she married the man who is now her king, Iduna is now standing in the room she occupied as princess of Arendelle.
She screams.
In a secret cupboard in the back of a wardrobe two doors over, an urn rattles. If the queen had been there, she would have been much disturbed to see it. In the early days, the urn had been permanently frosted over, but it had since settled down as the inhabitant entered a hibernation torpor, one stage away from a sleep without awakening. But two things had awakened her.
The first thing was a sort of creeping feeling cutting through the dreams. A feeling that seemed so familiar, she couldn't place it. It was a feeling she had known every day of her life, and yet to feel it outside of her was so strange she couldn't understand it. It was cool, it was calming, it was vibrant and white, it was the very essence of what she was, but it was somehow... clearer. Bluer. Icier.
The second thing was the scream. The feeling tugged at her mind, but the scream snapped her out of her dreams and into full awareness. It was her name, screamed in her sister's voice. And while sisters may have spats, there is nothing stronger than the love they share. That was what made the urn not only rattle but jump slightly off the wood it was sitting on.
But no sooner than the urn settled than it began to frost again. Not a total covering of hoarfrost, like before, but just a rim underneath the lid. Like a second seal... or something trying to break one.
It has been a long time since she had a purpose. Something clear in her life, some path to follow, some goal to pursue. Without a tether holding her to the world, sleep would carry her mind away for good. But now, she knows she must find something. Someone. She used to think the only way to get out would to be one big blast, a force to shatter her bonds. Now, though, she has a new plan. A creeping frost, as inevitable as the freeze, shattering glass, crumbling mortar, breaking walls, cracking steel, and carrying the winter with it.
Elsa was, at this time, being settled in her room. Her nurse was newly hired, and, as such, understandably nervous. She was even more nervous than normal, because of the strange stories castle gossip tends to spread. The midwife who delivered the princess swore that the baby didn't cry on first feeling the cold, that she was born in the middle of the biggest snowstorm Arendelle had ever seen, that the fire went out when she got near it... It was true that Elsa didn't seem bothered by the cold, and didn't wail when she had to be unwrapped to be changed, and it was true that she had been born on the coldest day of the year, but the rest of it was nonsense. After all, Elsa's cradle was sitting right by the fire, which was burning brightly.
At that exact moment, a large pile of snow fell down the chimney and put the fire out. The nurse, already at her wits end due to the stories that had magnified themselves inside her head, fled the room as if pursued by a rabid killer blizzard instead of a puff of cold air. She was pursued by several other maids, who, upon catching up to her, fled themselves after listening to her crazed screams. They were caught at the gate by the King, who had been disturbed by the noise, and who dismissed them all from their service. The next day, the Queen appointed her oldest and most trusted servant, her former lady's maid Gerda, to take care of the princess.
Gerda was not one to be easily rattled by talk. She had served at the castle since she was old enough to dust, and had been Iduna's closest friend and confidante since Iduna was six. She had stood beside Iduna as a staunch ally during the turmoil following her decision to not only marry Crown Prince Agnarr of Svalbard, a minor island kingdom to the north, but to cede the crown to him. She had comforted Iduna during the mourning period for her father, King Vegard, been the matron-of-honor at her wedding, and held the castle together an attack by rioters. She had faced down and sometimes debunked rumors about trolls, curses, plots, schemes, conspiracies, and the rising price of lutefisk. So while she quickly accepted that Elsa didn't mind the cold, she was glad and not scared. After all, her ears weren't what they used to be, and Elsa's wails didn't do anything to help.