Prologue
The courier, so frail and young, trembled at Princess Elsa's doorstep – with good reason. Lovely, delicate Elsa's expression was so very blank and her eyes so desolate. He had never seen her before, nor had any of the other servants, the few of them there were. The King and Queen had always been the ones to communicate with the sheltered princess, but now it was he that was sent in the absence of the King and Queen. The boy had been told to give her the precious scroll in his hands and to leave the heiress apparent to it, and he would do just that; a young face like hers was too hard around the edges, and it discomfited him.
With a deep bow, the courier extended the message and murmured deferentially, "Your majesty. A message from the master of the fleet."
The scroll's weighted lifted from his palms with a brush of silken fabric – gloves – and the door snapped smartly shut before he could stand upright again. Unsettled, he briskly set away down the corridor. Not twenty seconds later, he fell to his feet, his throat frigid and his breath shallow.
A rumbling roar reached his ears, and then darkness as loosened stonework and woodwork alike crumbled around him.
Lost at sea, gone, missing, dead. The only people she loved beside darling Anna, the only ones she had seen all these lonely years. Her gloves froze against her skin as her emotions rode higher and higher, and the scroll in her hands shriveled from frost. She was alone now. There was no one, she could not be close to Anna again, no, no – that had ended badly as children, and would only be worse now.
Conceal, don't feel. It was too hard to obey those words now, and the thought of that simple rule from her beloved father's lips twisted her heart into a deeper despair. The window pane, just inches from her stony face, cracked quietly, spreading gossamer thin lines through the glass.
Conceal, don't feel.
Not a single tear fell down her cheek, even as the walls groaned loudly in protest against the ice that had buried into the stonework.
Conceal, don't feel.
The scroll, forgotten now, crumpled as Elsa's grip tightened.
Conceal, don't feel.
She could not cry, that was feeling in its most undiluted form, but there was a catharsis in the crumbling of the walls, in the whisper of a crisp breeze as it caressed her cheek. The sky was darkening with twilight's approach, and Elsa's eyes alighted on a peak in the distance, bathed in the last of the sun's light. It looked so beautiful, so white and golden and very lonely.
This castle, so dark and warm, was a prison now. Responsibility fell on her shoulders – she would be queen as soon as she was of age, and the thought of forever hiding her abilities from her own subjects and sister terrified her.
She was failing to conceal. She felt too much.
If she must be alone, at least she could breathe the free air. Elsa stepped into the pavilion just beyond her now shattered window, and whispered a sad farewell to her childhood home.
The counselors to the King and Queen were in a state of baffled mourning. The royal family had splintered in just a matter of days; first the King and Queen lost at sea, and the heiress had disappeared in mysterious circumstances, ice coating her quarters and her walls crumbled as though some winter spirit had broken in and stolen the princess away.
And poor Anna, left all alone.
"What is to be done with Princess Anna? She is too young yet to care for herself entirely, being but thirteen years of age," said Counselor Atli, his blond mustache bristling in agitation.
Counselor Dunn, the eldest of the counselors, responded, "We shall rehire the staff that was released several years ago and open the gates. Anna will need support from whatever branches of the royal family there are outside the castle. When the search parties have found Elsa, we shall defer to her judgment. If she wishes to release the staff once more, so be it."
Insightfully, as must be for the only female counselor in the room, Counselor Fjalldis inquired, "And as for Arendelle? Neither of the princesses is of age, and they have much tutelage left yet before either one will be fit to rule."
With a heavy sigh, Counselor Dunn proclaimed, "We shall rule in their stead. Now let us decide upon the arrangements for the late King and Queen…"
Anna woke with the sun the day after her sister's disappearance. Dreams of a happy childhood long gone had plagued her the whole night, and she longingly peered out her window, watching the colors of the sunrise and wishing, wishing, wishing. A servant brought her breakfast shortly after the sun broke the horizon, and Anna reveled in the human contact for a few moments.
The gates have been opened and the staff is back, she thought to herself; a small comfort on a day like this. She returned to her perch near the window, and this time her eyes fell upon a peak along the eastern horizon.
She may have imagined it, but it seemed that the mountain top was twinkling, winking and sparkling in the morning light, as if to say "Good morning, dear, the world is not so bad!"
If only she believed it.
(3/1/14) This is unlikely to be continued in the near future. Just a little plot that struck me after watching "Frozen" for the first time. Counselors' names are arbitrary and not canonical.