Frozen: A Different Perspective
Twenty-one years prior to the events of Disney's Frozen
"Please, I beg you, help us!" King Andor pleaded as he turned about the ruins in the Valley of the Living Rock, inside the kingdom of Arendelle. His wife stood beside him, clutching their one year old firstborn, and pregnant with their second. These were not his own lands, but he believed the inhabitants here could help his son. "We have nowhere else to turn!"
The boulders rolled into a circle around them save for a single aisle, then rose as one. The rock trolls possessed great magic, King Andor knew; if anyone could help baby Nikolaus, they could. He had sought them out when no doctor could answer his questions.
The one called Pabbie, Granpabbie to some, strode to them and bowed. "Your Majesty of the Northern Alliance, greetings. How may we be of service?"
King Andor dropped to his knees, the Queen beside him, holding out baby Nikolaus. "My son. He has an...affliction," he began cautiously. "Every doctor insists nothing is wrong, but they have not seen what we have. He has made it rain in his nursery, we have heard thunder from a clear sky, and most recently, what appears to be lightning has been coming from his fingertips when he is upset. Even more worrisome are the storms that form and dissipate rapidly when he cries in pain."
Pabbie looked at the child from a distance, a considering expression on his stony face. "Perhaps it is just a coincidence, King Andor," the old troll replied. "The weather can be very unstable, particularly this time of year."
The King shook his head. "No." Taking his son from the Queen, he held him upright and exposed his back. "These appeared on his first birthday. What are they?" The concern in his voice was palpable.
Pabbie moved closer and touched the child's back gently. He withdrew quickly, as if he'd recieved a shock, and turned to the King. "Your doctors are correct, though they do not know why," he began slowly. "Your son does not suffer from an affliction, but a manifestation. He has developed powers over lightning, wind, and most importantly, storms. He was born with these powers, though they took some time to appear."
Andor stared at the troll, dumbfounded. After a few moments, he finally found his voice. "Are you suggesting that...my son...has magical abilities?"
Pabbie nodded. "Indeed. And they will continue to grow, at least until he matures. He must never fear these powers, however. They are a part of who he is, and he must embrace them. His powers can greatly benefit your kingdom, particularly agriculturally, but in other ways as well."
Andor hung his head. He had not been prepared for magic. Lifting his head, he asked quietly, "What must I do?" He was afraid of what he might be told, but determined to see this through.
Pabbie looked deep into the King's eyes. "Love him. Teach him to love his powers, and to use them for the good of the Kingdom. Help him practice with them, so that he may control them. With guidance, he will reach his full potential."
Andor considered Pabbie's words carefully. "I will do as you suggest. It will be difficult, but I will do it for my son, my family, and my kingdom." With a quick thank you, the King and Queen remounted and headed back north, little Nikolaus sound asleep in his mother's arms.
"Was that who I think it was?" the female troll asked Pabbie, who still stood where the visitors had left him.
"Yes, Bulda," he replied solemnly. "That was the young Prince of Storms. Let us hope he grows into the King of Storms we need."
"And what of the Queen of Ice? Has she yet come?" Bulda asked.
Pabbie looked up, watching the sky. It was very awake tonight. "She has come today. And nothing will prevent her future. She will rise to her destiny as surely as the sun will rise at dawn."
