Author's Note: I'm amazed that the prologue managed to get all of you interested in the fic; thank you for your confidence in me! I'm truly touched. Hope you enjoy the first real chapter!

Chapter 1: The Decision

Elsa read the letter for what seemed like the thousandth time.

To Her Royal Majesty, Queen Elsa of the Kingdom of Arende—

Her hand crumpled the right side of it as it balled into a fist; she looked surprised a moment later, not realising she had done so, and her fingers relaxed again.

As the Queen has previously been informed, the traitor has now been formally stripped of his title, lands—

She stood up in agitation from her desk, staring down at the paper accusingly as the words endlessly, viciously cycled themselves through her mind.

—remains in exile on Vollan Island far to the South, where he endures hard labour daily under the watch of—

Her lips curled into a frown.

—they would be honoured if Her Majesty, Queen Elsa, were to grace the court of the Isles by the end of the year—

She noticed, then, that the paper was, in fact, yellowing—and that nearly every corner of it had been creased at some point or another since it had come into her possession some two weeks earlier.

Have I read it that many times?

Her nose wrinkled at the thought in distaste, and she finally put some distance between herself and the document, walking away towards her armoire. She tried to distract herself by rummaging through it, looking for something to wear for the day; she even withdrew something resembling a presentable gown before promptly throwing it to the wayside with a particularly strong flick of her wrist.

The King and Queen are prepared to spare no expense in the festivities celebrating Her Majesty's potential visit, and hope that together, our two kingdoms—

She scowled suddenly.

Our two kingdoms?

She flung another dress to the side, forgetting—or perhaps not caring—that it had just been washed the day before.

However, given the very recent nature of the unfortunate events involving the traitor, formerly Prince Ha—

She felt ice creeping up her arm, but she stopped it a moment later with the memory of Anna stuffing her mouth full of the extremely expensive truffles that were supposed to have been served, as a delicacy, to the visiting dignitaries at court a month ago. Normally, the image of her sister's plump, guilty cheeks would have made her laugh, or at least smile.

Their Royal Majesties fully understand if Her Majesty, Queen Elsa, does not wish to pursue their offer at this time, but thank her nonetheless—

She ran a flustered hand through her white hair as she finally stopped herself from wrinkling another dress, and stood stock-still, breathing deeply.

What am I doing?

As if in answer to that silent question, a formal knock echoed against her bedroom door, making her jolt in surprise.

"Yes?" Elsa asked after taking a moment to collect herself, smoothing down her dressing gown in case someone should come in unexpectedly.

"It's just me, Your Majesty," Gerda's familiar voice answered, sounding as if she hadn't quite woken up yet that morning. "Shall I come in to help you get dressed?"

Her brows furrowed at the request, and she lightly pressed her hand to her forehead.

"No, Gerda, thank you—I think I'll manage on my own today."

Her lady-in-waiting sounded hesitant. "As—as you wish, Your Majesty," she said haltingly as she walked away again with the usual touch of disappointment in her tone that made Elsa feel guilty whenever she chose to dress herself.

She takes such pride in getting me ready, she thought with a small smile, and turned back from the door to the armoire with a softer stride. She was determined, this time, to actually pick something without getting side-tracked.

Now, she mused, her eyes fixed on the rack, what was on the agenda for today?

She ran through a list of possible items for discussion with Kai and her Council—they were likely going to press her about when she was going to make her annual visit to Corona, the status of the (nonexistent) trade relations with Weselton now that the Duke had been deposed, and her replies to several marriage proposals that she had recently recei—

Given the efforts undertaken by Their Royal Majesties to amend the ties between the great nations of Arendelle and the Southern Isles—

She stomped her foot and slammed the doors of the armoire shut in frustration, muttering a curse under her breath as she stared accusingly at its wooden panels.

But after staring in this way for a while—and observing that the doors remained just as impassive and, well, wooden as ever—she finally sighed, defeated.

This is going to take a while, isn't it?

Elsa wasn't sure why—actually, the fact that she had made her more annoyed than ever—but she'd brought the letter with her to the Council meeting.

It was balled up tightly in the hand that normally would've been studiously writing down notes during the meeting regarding the advice of her Council on matters of state, and though she badly wanted to simply toss it to the side and pick up her quill, she somehow found the act impossible.

I must be going crazy.

"Your Majesty?"

Her head snapped up to attention at the address, meeting Kai's concerned expression. She tried to keep from appearing as though she hadn't been listening to a word of the conversation, her hand—thankfully gloved—relaxing somewhat.

"Yes, ah, Prince Eugene," she started, her confidence building as she continued, "you said he would be stopping at port sometime soon?"

Kai's brow eased. "The messenger from Corona said within the month, but . . ." he trailed off and an amused smile overtook his features, soon infecting the other men and women around the table. "Well, I don't need to tell you, Your Majesty—the Prince very rarely arrives when he promises to."

Elsa smiled at this in spite of keenly feeling the crumpled letter through her glove.

"That's true," she agreed, "but no matter. We'll be sure to give him a fine greeting whenever he arrives." She paused in thought, and asked curiously: "Princess Rapunzel won't be joining him?"

Kai looked unsure. "The message did not indicate that she would, no," he replied, but added with another exasperated sort of smile: "But, knowing them—I would not be surprised if both of Their Majesties should arrive at port."

Elsa giggled a little. "No, I don't suppose I would be, either." She looked off to the side with a warm smile.

I'm sure Anna would love it if Rapunzel came as well.

The two had become fast friends in the year since the castle gates had been opened, and Elsa herself had encouraged the relationship, knowing that—in spite of his loyalty and affection for her sister—Kristoff shouldn't be Anna's only other (human) friend.

In truth, she had taken an instant liking to the young princess of Corona as well; she guessed it was because Rapunzel reminded her so much of Anna.

They're both so . . . lively.

She hid a smirk at the thought, though her expression grew serious once more as she greeted the expectant looks of her advisers, clearing her throat.

"Leif—there was something you mentioned to me yesterday that you wished to discuss with the full Council?" she inquired.

The middle-aged, black-bearded man nodded sternly. "Yes, Your Majesty, and thank you for remembering," he nodded to her, and she returned the gesture. "It's about Weselton—they're requesting an audience now, since the Duke—"

"Ah, yes," she said, cutting him short. She ignored the somewhat discontented look he shot her at being interrupted. "Well, of course, we're all very pleased to receive the news of the Duke's deposal," she began, thinking silently and it's about time, too, "but there's no point in restarting trade with them while their government remains as unstable as it is."

Leif nodded along with the other Council members at this, though he seemed hesitant a moment later.

"Still, Your Majesty, should we not send some kind of word to the provisional government there to assure them that we support the direction in which they are headed?"

She weighed this idea in her mind, but only briefly; suddenly, she could feel the letter again, and her thoughts drifted.

—the traitor has now been formally stripped of his title, lands, and his inheritance by the King and Queen as punishment for his crimes—

She squeezed it too tightly, and it made an unfortunately loud scrunch noise which silenced all the quiet debate in the room. She swallowed as all the eyes around the table were once again trained on her.

"Per—perhaps we should wait a little while to make such a public statement," she said hesitantly, trying her hardest to maintain her composure. "But I would not be opposed to a private message of some kind relaying our support."

Murmurs of agreement concluded that topic, and Elsa nearly sighed in relief, her grip relaxing—but only slightly.

"Is that everything, then?" she asked suddenly, standing from her seat. The other Council members followed her lead and bowed their heads, knowing that it didn't matter whether the meeting had gone on for only five minutes or more than three hours—when the Queen stood from her chair, it was as good as over.

Kai nodded, though there was more than a drop of curious concern in his look as he spoke.

"Of course, Your Majesty," he answered faithfully. "The meeting is now adjourned."

These magic words allowed the Council members to disperse just as quickly as they had gathered in the hall, and Elsa was no different, leaving in a rush. Within a few minutes of the end of the discussion, she was back in her study, leaning tiredly on the chair by her writing desk.

"Your Majesty—what is that you're holding?"

Her skin went cold, and the temperature dropped in the room.

Of course Kai would notice.

She sucked in a breath as she gestured for him to fully enter the room, and when he was standing by her side, she finally—albeit somewhat reluctantly—handed him the letter. He gave her a questioning look upon seeing the state of the paper, and she averted her eyes from his guiltily.

He examined it with interest, and his eyes widened once he realised where it had come from. By the end, however, his expression had returned to its usual, composed mask, and he regarded her only with the slightest hint of doubt.

"Queen Elsa . . . this is the fourth missive from the Southern Isles, is it not?"

She reddened at the question, and nodded after a minute.

Kai glanced at the letter again. "And you—you've not replied to this one either, I take it?"

She looked confused at the query, her cheeks still pinked in embarrassment.

"What do you mean, Kai? I wouldn't answer the letter without consulting you and the Council first."

He hid a small smile. "Yes, of course, Your Majesty, but . . ." he gestured towards the countless wrinkles in the paper. "I suppose I just find it a bit odd, if it's been playing on your mind so much, that you wouldn't have come to us sooner about it."

Elsa's lips pursed stubbornly. "It hasn't been playing on my mind much at all," she tried to deny, frowning at Kai's sceptical look. "It's just—I just—oh, I don't know!" she admitted finally, throwing her hands up and resting her forehead on one of her palms. "I knew that you knew that I had it, but . . ." She stared at him curiously. "I suppose I was a little surprised that you didn't bring it up at the Council meeting yourself."

Kai smiled at this comment, and the affectionate expression took Elsa off-guard. "My Queen," he said, patting her hand gently, "I wouldn't raise such a sensitive issue unless I was certain that you were ready to discuss it." He looked at the paper again, and then back up at her knowingly. "Obviously, my instincts to wait were correct."

Elsa blushed at this, staring at the letter in his hand before looking away, a little ashamed.

"I guess I'm still . . . working things out, in a way," she confessed, and sighed. "At least, I was trying to figure out how I would tell my sister about it."

Kai nodded understandingly. "Of course, Your Majesty. I suspected as much." His look grew more serious after a moment. "Still, you must remember, my Queen—the Princess is no longer a child whom you have to protect from such things as basic diplomacy, even if they do involve particularly . . . unsavoury individuals from the recent past."

Elsa shot him a critical look as she crossed her arms.

"That's putting it mildly, Kai."

It was his turn to redden at the reproving remark. "Yes, of course, you are correct, Queen Elsa," he said quickly, embarrassed. "My apologies."

Seeing Kai so remorseful for what had been a simple understatement made Elsa sigh again, and she squeezed the older man's shoulder gently.

"Don't apologise," she said tiredly. "You should be able to speak your mind freely with me, after all." She glanced at the letter, but kept herself from frowning. "Anyway, I know you're right—whatever I choose to do, I can't be too swayed by Anna's feelings on the matter."

Elsa sat down in the chair again, stretching against its hard back, and Kai regarded her inquisitively.

"And what about you, my Queen?"

Her eyebrow rose in question. "What do you mean?"

He gestured to the letter with a troubled look. "Well, are you . . ." He paused.

"Have you made a decision about it yet?"

She bit her lip at the query; she had known it was going to come up at some point during their conversation.

"It was easy to ignore the first few letters," she said quietly, "back when it had only been a few months since the . . . incident." Her expression stiffened at the memory. "But now—now, it's somehow . . . harder to do so."

Kai smiled sadly. "That's only natural," he reassured her. "I know you're not a bitter person, Queen Elsa—in fact, my guess is that you'd like to move on just as much as they do."

She blushed at the pointed observation, not wanting to concede that point.

He knows me too well—but then, I suppose that's why I appointed him a Council member in the first place.

He spoke again in her silence. "In any case, enhancing our economic ties with them would be extremely beneficial to Arendelle: all those wealthy landowners in the Isles rave about the quality of our fur and linen products here," he said, and continued: "And, as you know, that drink they make—akvita—has become popular recently here at court, and thus establishing a secure passage for its transport from the Isles would be—"

"Yes, I'm aware," Elsa snapped suddenly, though upon seeing Kai's distressed look, she winced. "Sorry," she apologised promptly, massaging her temples. "It's just . . . I do realize the material benefits of this, Kai, really I do," she assured him, creating a few snowflakes in her hand to ease her tension before scuttling them away into the static air. "But it's not about them. It's about—it's about . . ."

She failed to finish the thought, and looked unsure.

"It's about your readiness for it all, isn't it?"

She nodded a little, pinking. He sighed at the expression, though it was not a sigh of weariness.

"That's perfectly understandable, Queen Elsa; actually, if you weren't having second, or third, or even fiftieth thoughts about going through with this, I'd be far more worried."

Elsa looked up at him in surprise, the remark bringing an unexpected smile to her pale lips.

"Really?"

He nodded, and smiled back. "Truly," he replied with a small wink. "So please—take your time, and consider the missive's merits, few as they may seem now," he appealed to her gently. "And—if you don't mind me saying so—perhaps it would ease your mind to discuss it with Princess Anna."

Her brow rose sharply at the suggestion.

"How would that ease my mind, Kai?"

She'd probably say I'm crazy for even thinking about going to the Isles, she mused with a frown, her arms unconsciously crossing.

"I have the feeling that the Princess may be more willing to contemplate the idea if you are the one suggesting it," he said, his eyes warm. "Her Highness can be quite feisty, of course, but she also adores you, Your Majesty—and if you were really set on something, I think even she would find it difficult to refuse you."

Elsa looked apprehensive at the remark, wondering if there was really any truth to it.

After all, weren't they talking about the same Princess Anna who—when told by her older sister that she had to look extra presentable at an official dinner with the King and Queen of Madris—had come back into the castle, soaked to the bone from diving into the fjord with Olaf, only ten minutes before the event?

She hid a mixture of a grimace and a smile at the recollection, and the outward result of these confused feelings was a simple, resigned shrug.

"We'll see."

"No."

Elsa swallowed a sigh, trying to be patient.

"It would only be for two weeks, and they've already reassured me on multiple occasions that he won't be present—"

"No," Anna repeated firmly, and stabbed her fork through her chicken with particular ferocity. "No way, Elsa."

Finally, her older sister frowned. "Anna, be reasonable," she urged quietly, glancing warily at the guards posted at either end of the dining hall. "I've already been avoiding this for far too long, and it would be best if—"

"Then you can keep on avoiding it!" Anna exclaimed, glaring. "Honestly, Elsa, what are they going to do? Start a war because the queen that their stupid, sideburny, no-good, lying, not-even-that-good-looking son tried to kill won't visit them? I don't think so."

Elsa's brow rose at the long list of colourful adjectives, and Anna reddened.

"I'm just saying," she emphasized, stuffing a piece of the chicken in her mouth, "You don't have to do this. In fact," she added, talking between chews (despite knowing Elsa hated that habit), "you're better off not going there at all. Just think about it, Elsa," she said, swallowing, "if he was the youngest of thirteen brothers, and if even he, the baby, turned out so bad, what about the others? And what about his parents?" Anna shuddered at the thought. "I don't even want to imagine what creeps they must be."

She has a point, Elsa conceded, if only internally. Indeed, she had wondered about the same thing herself on many occasions over the past few months, usually after reading and re-reading the missives from the Isles so many times as to make the words on the paper appear unrecognisable.

Still, she didn't want to admit defeat just yet. "Even so," she began more slowly, ignoring Anna's irritated look at her remark being dismissed, "that doesn't change the fact that we need to repair our relationship with them, so that they can recommend us to other potential trading partners; it hasn't been easy securing those, since so many other kingdoms don't—"

She cut herself short as her expression dropped, and she gripped her own fork and knife tightly.

. . . don't want anything to do with me or my curse.

Anna read her sister's distraught brow and light eyes easily, and her own look eased, appearing more sympathetic.

"I know," she said finally, and placed her hand atop Elsa's. Her sister's skin was icy. "I know, Elsa."

Elsa warmed, but only a little, and Anna sighed.

"Look, I—I'm not just saying 'no' because of what he did to me," she said, "and not even because of what he almost did to you." Her nose wrinkled at the memory. "Even if—and this is a big if—he really is in exile like they keep saying he is, and they are honest about wanting you to come over to 'make peace' or whatever," she continued, frowning, "it just doesn't . . . feel right, somehow."

She gripped Elsa's hand for effect. "I'm afraid that something would happen to you over there, something—something bad."

Elsa smiled a little at her sister's concern, unable to help but feel touched by it.

"There's always danger in travelling beyond the gates, Anna," she reminded her, "but we made a promise to each other, didn't we? That we'd keep them open?"

Anna pinked at those words, though her blue eyes grew stubborn.

"I don't see how that has anything to do with you going into that snake pit," she retorted with a glare.

Elsa's brow rose expectantly. "Keeping the doors open doesn't just mean allowing people in—it also means that we can go out."

Anna's lips pursed in a fashion similar to Elsa's, and she pouted.

"But do you have to go out there?"

Elsa shrugged as she absently sipped her wine. "Of course I don't want to, Anna, but that's not the point." She tiredly poked at the steamed cabbage, now cold, on her plate. "Sometimes, the best way to come to terms with the past is just to . . . confront it head-on, I suppose."

Anna gaze was sceptical. "Did Kai tell you that?"

Elsa frowned. "No, he didn't," she replied, miffed at the suggestion. As she stared at her abandoned plate of food, however, her lips relaxed. "Actually, it's something that I—that I've been thinking about for a while, myself." She rested her chin in her palm and—to Anna's surprise—placed her elbows directly on the table, closing her eyes briefly.

"I just want to get this over with so I don't have to think about it anymore, to be perfectly honest."

Anna finally smiled at this admission, though she kept her expression impressively determined.

"Well, that I can understand," she quipped, making the queen smile a little as well. "But if you go, I'm coming with you."

Elsa's eyes snapped open again at this comment, and she gazed at Anna in surprise.

"What, Anna, no—"

"I won't take 'no' for an answer, Elsa," her younger sister replied, crossing her arms. "There's no way I'm letting you go there by yourself."

A chill blew across the room.

"You have to, Anna," Elsa said succinctly, and Anna shivered at the sudden cold. "I won't leave Arendelle without a ruler in my stead, and—as much as I trust Kai and the others—I would vastly prefer it if you were the one watching over the kingdom."

Anna blushed with pride at this, but—sensing that Elsa was building her up on purpose to distract her from her goal—she shook her head and frowned more deeply than ever.

"No, Elsa," she repeated, her arms tense as the chill continued to hover around the dining table. "You can't seriously expect me to sit here and watch you go off to that—that—that place!" she exclaimed, and suddenly threw her hands up in frustration. "I'd be worried sick every second of every day that you were away!"

Elsa wanted to be irritated at Anna's obstinacy, but found herself, once again, moved by her sister's affection—even if it was a slight inconvenience to her present aims.

She really loves me.

"I'll write to you every day—twice a day, even," Elsa promised, hoping the conciliatory gesture would soothe Anna's nerves.

Her sister's frown, however, only grew.

"You're talking like you've already decided to leave me behind."

Elsa looked pained at this, but couldn't deny it.

I can't take her with me.

"What am I supposed to do here, anyway, if you leave?" she asked suddenly, gesturing around the large, empty dining hall with a wrinkled nose. "Attend your boring meetings about politics? Organise balls? Greet visitors?" This last suggestion caused her to stick her tongue out in distaste. "It sounds awful."

"I thought you liked organising balls," Elsa remarked, trying to hide her smirk at Anna's theatrics.

"Only if you're there, too!" she shot back, pouting petulantly. "Who am I going to talk to if you're gone?"

Elsa smiled more genuinely at this. "I'm sure you'll manage it," she said confidently, and added with the slightest of conspiratorial tones: "Besides, Kristoff will be around to keep you company, won't he? Not to mention Sven and Olaf."

Anna's lip twitched as she turned bright red, and Elsa continued: "Anyway, I need you here to welcome Prince Eugene when he calls at port from Corona, since I don't think I'll make it back in time to see hi—"

"Flynn is coming to court?" Anna asked excitedly, nearly jumping in her seat at the news. "When?"

The queen gave her a lightly reproving look. "You really have to remember to call him by his actual name, Anna," she reminded her, though the girl ignored her sister's comment.

"Oh, he doesn't mind," she said dismissively. "Just so long as I don't call him that when Rapunzel's around."

"Princess Rapunzel," Elsa corrected again, but without her usual, chiding tone. "But you really should try to address him properly while he's here."

Anna rolled her eyes. "If you say so," she said with a shrug, though her gaze lit up again in the next moment, turning on Elsa with sudden forcefulness. "Hey! Stop trying to distract me!"

Elsa blinked. "From what?"

Anna scowled.

"From the issue of you going alone into the vipers' den, which I totally did not agree to yet!"

Elsa's brow rose wearily.

I guess she can't bring herself to just say "the Southern Isles," can she?

"It's not a matter of you agreeing to it or not," she said sternly, recognizing that her attempt to approach the issue more gently had failed. "You're staying here, and that's final, because—" She paused, meeting Anna's angry stare.

"Because I don't want you getting hurt, either."

Her look was knowing, and pierced through her sister's peevishness with stinging clarity.

"And I know that going there will only bring up bad memories for you."

Anna's scowl lessened on this point, though she remained unconvinced. "Weren't you the one who said we have to 'confront the past head-on' so we can get over it?" Her look softened a little.

"Why don't we do that together, Elsa?"

Elsa felt her resolve weaken at her sister's plaintive tone, one part of her desperately wanting to give in and say yes, of course Anna, what was I thinking? I would never go without you!—but the other part viciously rejecting the idea even more strongly than before.

"We just . . . can't," she said finally, breathing in sharply as she saw Anna's expression fall at the answer. "I need you here,"she added steadfastly, regaining her bearings, "in case anything does happen to me over there." She stared at Anna pointedly, and concluded:

"One of us has to be here—for Arendelle."

Anna was uncharacteristically silent at this; when she finally spoke, her lips were pressed in a thin, unhappy line.

"Even if you're right," she started slowly, her gaze unusually sharp, "I don't like this, Elsa. I don't like this at all."

Elsa gripped her wineglass, and her blue eyes tightened.

"Neither do I."