A/N: HELLO! :P Okay, I'm SO, SO sorry for taking so much time with this. You'll see, this summer I wanted to do lots of things, one of them updating this sooner, but I don't know what happened and my vacations are ending and I didn't do anything! *sighs* Oh, well, enough of my explanations. Here it is, as I promised, Khione's perspective on the whole deal. I kind of got excited and made it very looong and it's kind of Khione's life story rather than just what concerns Frozen and….well, I hope you all wonderful people will bother again with me and read hehe I also hope it lives up to your expectations, whatever they are.

And, a MASSIVE thanks to all of you who have read, favorited, followed and reviewed. I think I answered to all the reviews that could be answered (if I didn't let me know O_O) but those of you who Fanfiction won't let me answer to, I want to say that I am very grateful for your kind words. You really make me feel so good :')

[Briefly, to notjustrepairboy, I think you over-flatter me, really, but thanks nonetheless. You made me smile :) ]

And now, having said that, enjoy!

Khione kicked her door open and slammed it loudly as she made her way to the couch. If she had to listen to her annoying brothers one more day she would explode. Plopping herself on her couch, next to the window overlooking the city of Quebec, she put her hands behind her head and sighed. The cold wind hitting her face relaxed her. Her father was too indulgent with that pair of idiots. Way too indulgent.

"They are young," he used to say, "let them be, my dear. They don't have your good judgment."

Of course, now his replies were very different, especially with their current situation…

There was a knock in her open door.

"Lady Khione?" a voice called.

"In here," she answered. "Come in, Deandra." The young woman entered the room, closing the door behind her and she stood next to the couch.

"I heard your…quarrel with Lord Zethes and Lord Calais. I wondered if everything was alright?"

"It is, don't you worry. I just couldn't stand seeing their annoying faces or hearing they insufferable voices." Deandra smiled.

"In that case, my lady, perhaps you would like me to stand by your door to stop them if they come?"

"Don't trouble yourself with it. I doubt they have the nerve to come within one flight of stairs."

She nodded.

"I see. Then, would you mind if I tend to my sewing here in your rooms?"

Khione waved her hand. "Not at all, go ahead." The woman bowed shortly and went to sit by a far window on the other side of the room, grabbing a blanket with a flowery pattern and bending over an edge with needle and thread in hand.

Khione closed her eyes. Days like this, when she had so much anger and then so suddenly relaxed were the most prone to launch her into a sea of memories. Memories not always pleasant. Rising from the couch and seeing Deandra was fine minding her own business, she walked to the corner of the room and opened a small door there, so plain and colorful that could be mistaken by a tapestry. She stepped inside and closed it behind her.

She walked through the long, dimly lit corridor, glancing at the now empty walls. Now that she had this white, plain thing (what was it called again?) that could store a million small pictures that she could see with just touching the screen (and after she discovered she could make her paintings become such pictures) she had almost emptied her gallery. Almost.

She reached the end and met with a black wall. In the middle there was a big rectangle, covered by a cloth. She took one of the edges and pulled it, showing what laid underneath. The one painting she could not get rid of.

It was very old, and the traces of years could be seen in the way the colour started to fade in certain areas, despite how much Khione kept restoring it with her magic. The golden frame, with small pieces of jewelry incrusted, was also darkening with dust and time. It showed a young woman, dressed in blue and black and with a long purple cloak. Her eyes were deep blue and her hair was platinum blonde, often taken by white. A golden crown adorned her head and in her hands she held an orb and a scepter.

She smiled sadly at the image. It was Queen Elsa of Arendelle, on the day of her coronation. Khione's daughter.

Almost unconsciously she began to change form. These days she walked around like a teenager girl, rarely adopting a different form. Right now, however, she felt how her dress grew shorter in both skirt and sleeves, as her limbs stretched and her body changed altogether. She summoned a plank of ice and watched her image. She sighed. It had been so long since she was a young woman. In fact, it had been too long since she was anything.

Whoever met her now would say she was a cold, cruel, spoiled daddy's girl, but she hadn't always been that way. She used to be carefree-as carefree as a goddess could be. She used to enjoy her life and her element, the snow. She could spend days building ice castles in the Artic, rising huge icebergs, causing snowstorms. She was not known to the Greeks, at least not as her fellow gods were. Only those who deeply studied the gods and their relationships knew about her. And while she felt a little bad for it she couldn't really blame them; the Mediterranean wasn't the most feasible place for snow.

It didn't mean she never went for a stroll in the cities. Quite the contrary, she liked to do it, but she couldn't go often, and when she did she had to protect her skin a great deal. So instead of Greece she frequented colder places, where the weather wasn't too sunny and there was snow nearby.

Searching for such places she had found a lovely mountain, near a sunny little kingdom, where there was snow almost year-round and a nice combination of chill and a bit of warmth. She liked to spend the days sitting there in the snow, admiring the view and relishing in the peace. She had yet to explore the kingdom herself (Arendelle it was called) but thanks to her godly-powers she could know everything that happened there, everything about everyone.

One day, while she sat thinking of styles of ice castles to build in that space, a young man appeared. She was no little surprised. She had been visiting that place for years and not once had she seen anybody going there. She knew him of course; he was the King of Arendelle. A young king, probably not yet two decades, and had already four years wearing the crown. He had only married recently, with the young, unhappy widow of a foreign duke.

Getting over her surprise she smiled and greeted politely. He greeted in a similar fashion and sat next to her. She was about to inquire what was he doing in the mountain when he started talking-about all sorts of things. The weather, the view, the day's news (he probably ignored she was not from the town), etcetera. For all her love of human places, since the fall of Greece she had never really interacted with anyone in her strolls, apart from some words exchanged in certain occasions, so she just listened and nodded her head at times. After some time he stood and said he needed to return, promising he'd come back to the mountain the next day and hoping to find her there.

After he left she stared incredulously at the spot he'd occupied next to her, not believing what had just happened. Were all the humans now that…open? If so then she wasn't entirely sure she liked it. But the mountain she did like a lot so she had no choice but to be there the next day. True to his word he came, and this time he talked a bit more slowly. He didn't seem to mind she was silent. In fact he seemed to enjoy doing the talking.

However, she noticed, he spoke about everything but himself. Not that she needed to know, she knew anyway, but it was his lack of self-importance what ended making him so appealing to her, what made her stay and bear his talking and even laugh at his jokes, and eventually begin to do her part of the conversation, even if it was just a remark on something he had said.

Several days went by. She was always there, waiting for him, and he was always there, talking. One day, much to her shock, he was silent when he arrived and sat next to her. For some minutes neither of them said a word and then he just turned to face her and started to lean close. She knew what he intended, and she hesitated. She knew his wife was pregnant and at less than a month from giving birth. But then his lips touched hers softly and she didn't give a damn, about anything. They kissed for what felt like hours, occasionally pulling apart to catch their breath. Khione had never been this close to a human before, to a male human, so each touch sent shivers through her body, and she liked how it felt.

For some days this was their routine. He arrived and talked, not as much as before, and then he took her face in his hands and kissed her. And she enjoyed every second of it.

But her father was not happy. Boreas had always wished for her only daughter and pride to stay away from lowly humans. Seeing he couldn't stop her curiosity for human ways he at least trusted she wouldn't involve herself with anyone. When he discovered the nature of her meetings with that man he ordered her to stop them, to hurt him, to do whatever she needed to ensure he didn't want to see her again. She had never disobeyed her father, she didn't dare. So, deeply pained, she left a note on their special spot and didn't show up again. She hoped he would understand….no, no she knew he wouldn't. She knew he would be hurt, but she hoped he wouldn't be for long, that he could put it behind him and enjoy his life with his wife and child.

But she made the mistake of leaving exactly the sort of note she shouldn't have. Desperate, he had taken it to a scholar for inspection, and the old man's eyes widened as he told the king that the style of the note-ink over cow skin-was that of the notes some Greek gods left to their mortal lovers. And much to Khione's dismay, once he was over his shock he despised her. He deemed her the worst being in all earth for having played with him in such way. She cried when she found out, she wanted to tell him it hadn't been her choice to leave, give him a sign, but Boreas explicitly forbade she did.

And so all she could do was watch. Watch and feel miserable. Listen how he cursed her name over and over and asked in anger if she had felt anything at all with his kisses.

And watch, in horror, how his wife listened too, hidden behind a door.

With pain and pity, she watched how the young queen cried at night, how she lamented at her own disgraces. The youngest child and only daughter of a rich nobleman, she had never been taken seriously by her family. When still a young girl she had been forced into marriage with a cruel man, who hurt her and made as though she wasn't his wife, being with his lovers right under her nose. When finally he died she was left scarred for life, both physically and mentally. She gave up all hopes in love, as she'd never known it, until she was courted by a charming young king, who seemed to genuinely appreciate her. And when he married her she found in him a husband she came to love, against her initial beliefs.

But now he, too, had turned her down. He too had found something better than her. Khione felt even more miserable by seeing her, crying her heart out and hating the husband who'd betrayed her. And while she carried his child! Finally, after so much pain, she died, just seconds after giving birth to her son. The king was devastated. He felt guilt and anger swelling in his heart, all the while feeling sorry for his son, who would never meet his mother. But getting over himself he carried on, raised his son without help; forever hated Khione Goddess of Snow, as she had been silly enough to tell him her name.

It was years before Khione dared return to the mountain. The memories of all the misery she had caused still haunted her sleep. It didn't help that her father had decided to bring her demigod brothers to live with them in the North. Usually he kept them at his other fortresses, but now they were next door-literally, both of them lived in the room next to hers.

One day as she sat in her usual place, a young man appeared once again. But as soon as she saw him she felt a sharp stab of pain in her heart. It was his son, the prince. He seemed unaware of her presence, gazing around in wonder. She turned around in the snow, pretending not to see him, until she heard his footsteps in her direction and had to face him.

And what she there saw left her breathless.

He was, at the same time, a vivid image of his father and his mother. He had his father's hair and countenance, his defined brows and sharp nose, but the rest of his delicate and soft features were his mother's. None of them said a word for a long time; they just looked at each other. She gazed into those eyes-the young queen's eyes-and saw there the same honesty and sweetness she had always kept in her heart, despite everything.

At last she broke the silence with a small greeting, which he didn't return immediately, but needed some seconds to find his voice. They exchanged some words and then he shyly asked if he could sit with her. She said he could and when he sat she almost expected him to burst out talking, like his father had. But instead he remained silent, looking at the sky like she was and then staring at her, taking her in. She felt flattered by his silent contemplation and was the first one to talk. He replied simply, apparently not eager to talk much, and indirectly implied he liked her and was glad to have found her. She found that extremely endearing and even dared make the first move, touching his hand.

When he asked for her name she hesitated, not wanting to make the same mistake, and instead made up something with her name rearranged. Not very brilliant but it would do for her. After that there was silence, a silence she hadn't believed possible while being with someone. She had automatically assumed that nowadays humans tended to speak a lot. Deandra couldn't tell her, she said she found the new ways strange altogether. But he seemed perfectly content just sitting there, admiring the surroundings, his hand under hers.

Hours went by but she didn't feel them. She basked in this new feeling, in this new quietness and calm, where she could almost listen to the sparks in the air and the loud beating of her heart. But she couldn't stay for long. When she said she had to go he asked if he would see her again. Asked, not assumed nor hoped-well he did hope, but it was a different kind of hope.

She wanted to say no, she really wanted (well maybe not so much), but when she looked into his eyes, so full of admiration for her, so very kind and sweet, she just couldn't. At the end she agreed to be everyday for whenever he wanted to come. That night in her room she couldn't sleep, just thinking about what she had done. She was repeating herself, she was on a dangerous path, one she might later regret taking. But she had to keep her word.

The next day she discovered exactly what appealed to her about him: his shyness.

Unlike his father, who just talked about anything that popped into his mind, he seemed to have a hard time finding what to say, and instead asked her questions. Simple things like her favorite color, season or food, but that made her feel important somehow. In return she asked him questions, and she loved the way he avoided her eyes and scratched the back of his head when he couldn't fill the silence. Through the days she learned a lot about him. With his father there was always talking, but he never talked about himself, and of course mostly she didn't talk at all, but even though that selflessness had drawn her to him, she now found this new way of conversation made her feel warm constantly.

Or maybe, as she discovered later, it wasn't the conversation. It was him. When he would laugh merrily, throwing his head back and wiping his tears afterwards; when he remained silent, lost in his thoughts and oblivious to the rest of the world; when he would compliment her and then the heat rushed to his cheeks, tainting them the loveliest shade of pink she'd ever seen. All those small moments finally weaved their way into her heart and she found herself hopelessly in love, for real this time.

And that was dangerous.

And when he confessed his feelings for her, so desperate and honest, so endearing and passionately, though she tried to fight it, she had to crumble and confess hers as well.

For a while it was perfect. Every second of everyday felt perfect to Khione when she was beside him, wrapped safely in his arms. He would kiss her hair and whisper softly in her ear, while they rested in the snow of the mountain. Once they even sneaked into the palace and into his room. At first they just talked and laughed at nonsense and then put their hands over each other's mouth to stifle their laughter. But what started just as a kiss before the fireplace ended in a night full of passion and love for both of them. They felt closer than ever and that nothing could possibly tear them apart.

But a couple days after, as Khione sat on her couch, listening to Deandra read an old book, Boreas pounded on the door until he nearly tore it down. He stormed into the room-literally, he walked in a fuzz of wind-yelling like a madman and stating in a loud voice what Khione had discovered herself just that day: she was pregnant.

Deandra left the room and Boreas glared at Khione in such way that she couldn't help but shrink. He was furious. He began saying, in the same loud voice, that getting romantically involved with a mortal man was by itself a shameful thing, but being involved and being together was far worse. And a demigod child! He ranted on about how demigod children weren't really as appealing as they seemed. Khione retorted that he had children of his own, but he said even louder than it had been a mistake he now regretted, and that he had hoped she wouldn't do the same. He had wanted her to be the only goddess that didn't have demigod children, that didn't have affairs with humans (apart from Artemis and Hera). He wanted her to be unique, as she was the only thing he was proud of.

But now-he raged-she had become like any other goddess: a mindless whore who couldn't keep her hands away from mundane human males.

She tried to defend herself but he didn't let her, such was his rage that Khione would never forget that day. At last, with calm almost scary, he instructed her to give up the baby. The first thing she thought was that he meant giving it to the father, as had to be done, but when she looked into his stormy eyes she gasped in horror. He wanted to kill her baby.

At once she threw herself at his feet, crying and imploring him to let it live. Many days she spent in such fashion, that to her seemed but mere hours. Finally, after much begging, Boreas agreed Khione gave birth to the child, but she first would have to break away definitely from the man, in the cruelest way possible, and after the birth she'd send the baby to him with no words of explanation. Besides, he made her swear on the River Styx and on everything that mattered to her that she would never, never, ever try to communicate with him or her. And he made Hecate cast a curse on her so she could never have children again.

Heartbroken, she agreed to all his conditions, and in a similar state she went at once to meet her beloved prince. And broke him as well.

She did it admirably, her father would later tell her. She spoke with all the coldness she could muster, telling him that she had to go forever and never see him again. She tried not to, but at the end she was afraid her desperation was clear to him, in the way the tears got the better of her and she avoided his eyes at all cost. And when she finally had to look at him, she felt terrible when she saw his expression. The cruel words poured out of her mouth but she didn't pay them any heed. Her body moved almost on its own accord and she wasn't aware. All she could think of was how much pain she saw on his eyes, how they filled with hurt at every despicable thing she said.

When it was finally over, she couldn't wait another second to disappear and she literally did it, not caring at all if he saw. She materialized in her own room, curled in her bed. With a wave of her hand the doors and windows slammed shut, the curtains drew over them, leaving her alone in utter darkness. And she cried. Cried and screamed in rage and frustration. Cried because this pain she was feeling was altogether new to her. Gods only ever, like really fell for other gods, so their feelings were always, if not returned, then discarded and magically put at ease. But she couldn't do that. This love she felt for him could not be eased with her magic, because if was foreign. Human feelings were something she didn't have a hold on. Leave that to Aphrodite.

This ripped right through her chest, clawed at her heart and squeezed it, leaving her breathless and hurt, made her lay all day and night on the bed, tears never ceasing to fall from her eyes. She didn't let anyone into the dark fortress her room had become, not even Deandra, her ever faithful servant and only friend.

And she suffered even more by watching him. How, very much like her, he shut the world out and lived only for his grief. The mere thought of his being a true love made her feel that squeezing in her heart again. Soon he stepped back into the world, faced the prospect of his life and what came ahead now. At first she envied him for that. While for him it had been considerably long, weeks, for her it had been but a blink. The pain was as fresh as it had been in that moment.

But when she saw the way he now conduced himself, with a blank stare and no feelings, doing things but taking no pleasure in anything, obeying orders no matter if he liked them or not, marrying because he had been told to, that made her shatter completely. Just when would she stop causing pain to others? Destroying other's happiness?

And also, everyday she was more aware of the life growing within her, a little girl forming in her womb, and cried for her. What kind of life awaited her, with a heartbroken father, an absent mother and who knows what troubles to face in the future?

Finally, the time came. The birth was painful, something she knew was not rare among goddesses with demigod children, but at last she held a beautiful baby girl in her arms. Her daughter. She slowly kissed her forehead, her skin cool to the touch and her blue eyes shinny and half open. She wanted to make the moment last, but too soon she was snatched out of her arms. But despite her father's warning of sending no words of explanation, Khione crafted a delicate snowflake and put it over the baby's chest, under the blanket Deandra had sewn for her. She knew he was clever enough to understand. And then Boreas took the baby and sent her to her father's palace. All Khione could do was watch.

She watched how he found her. Saw how he felt an endearment towards her. And then how he quickly caught the meaning of her 'gift', even ran to make sure his suspicions were true. His father had just died, but all Khione could think related to him was how similar their looks of hatred were. For when he discovered the truth about her, he hated her, even more fiercely than his father had and with much reason. She had left him alone and broken and now threw their daughter at him, disregarding them both as a small insignificance in her life.

She desperately wanted to tell him that it was not like that, at all. That she loved them dearly and if it was up to her, things would be very different. But it wasn't, and she couldn't. She couldn't do anything but watch, as always.

She watched how her little daughter, Elsa he had named her, grew into a lovely girl. He had made peace with himself and with his wife, and now they were all a happy family. Khione was jealous. That woman had an incredible resemblance to Elsa, for not being related, and could easily pose as her mother, since the only other person she resembled was her father. She was jealous watching how her beloved daughter ran into other woman's arms, kissing her cheek and calling her mother.

Later on she had a daughter of her own, half-sister to Elsa, though her full sister for all the little girl knew.

The only comfort Khione had in the middle of such sadness was the fact that her daughter had inherited at least something from her: her magic. She had power over ice and snow, and as a little girl used them to play and entertain herself, and then her sister Anna. However, when Elsa was eight years old there was an accident. She hit her sister with one of her blows and the little girl lost consciousness. They hurriedly went where the trolls, in hopes they would help.

Just when they arrived, the old troll, Grand Pabbi, was making his way to the front when suddenly everything froze. Time stood still, as well as everything and everyone, except for him. He looked around in confusion.

"Worry not, troll," a voice said. He turned around and saw a raven haired woman standing in front of him.

"My lady," he bowed, recognizing her. Her realm and influence had always been in the far North, so only there she was known, especially to those who practiced magic, though under different names. "What can I do for you?"

"I'm only here to explain some things." She said. "Tell me, what can you see in that girl?" She pointed towards the frozen Elsa.

Grand Pabbi walked to her and touched her hand, closing his eyes. Suddenly he gasped.

"She is not human," he said. "She is an enchantress. She has great power in her."

Khione nodded. "She is my daughter." The old troll looked confused.

"My lady?"

"Half human she is," she clarified. "It is a long story you don't need to know right now. The reason why I came is to ask of you your complete discretion. The girl can't know, and she needs advice. For reasons I will not explain, I can't give it to her myself," she looked at the girl and then back at the troll, "but I ask you to do so." Then she looked at Anna. "The girl is alright, but Elsa must be scared."

Grand Pabbi seemed to ponder her words and then nodded. "As you wish, my lady. I shall do whatever I can," he bowed again. When he blinked everything was back to normal.

Khione stayed close and watched how he swiftly asked the King about Elsa's powers, more for show than for anything. He proceeded to erase Anna's memories of her sister's magic and warn them that a frozen heart could be dangerous, as well as telling Elsa that she needed to control her magic in the future. The King trusted she would, eventually, and that seemed to ease the girl's own fears.

But things didn't turn out as expected.

Her father decided it was better for Elsa to separate from her sister, as well as from anyone else until she learned to control her powers. Such pressure didn't help at all. Instead, it only increased her fear. Being half human, Elsa's magic was thoroughly bound to her feelings, not so Khione's, which could be easily bent and manipulated at will, despite how she felt. As Grand Pabbi had said, fear was her worst enemy.

And fear was what she always felt.

She was afraid of everything. Of hurting her sister, of being discovered, of causing damage to anyone. She was afraid of herself. And because of that, her powers were never stable. She could never get a hold of them.

And that fear only increased after her parent's death. As the eldest daughter, Elsa was heiress to the throne, which meant that her life would become public, something it hadn't been in years. She would no longer be able to hide in her room all day, as to not cause trouble, but she would have to be constantly in the presence of other people. As long as she kept the gloves on she was fine, but fear could always get the better of her and ruin everything.

Much to Khione's dismay, the day of Elsa's coronation ended in disaster. Her powers were exposed in front of everyone and in her desperation she fled Arendelle. For all Khione knew, that girl Anna was to blame. If she hadn't been so childish nothing would've happened. Most of all, it hurt Khione to see her own daughter loathed what she was, what Khione was.

But, soon her fears would cease. When Elsa fled she arrived at the mountain. Once there, feeling free for the first time, she gave free reign to her powers and delighted in them. She built a fantastic ice castle, what Khione had always wanted to do there but never could. But even like that she wasn't completely free. Her fear still haunted her. She only trusted herself in solitude. And then that sister of hers went on again intruding, causing trouble to the both of them. Before she had a chance to realize what was happening, Elsa was chained in her own castle, by her own people. What he had asked her to do, watch over their daughter, she wasn't doing a good job of it.

She had frozen her sister's heart. It should've acted almost immediately, but for her daughter's sake Khione kept the girl alive, slowing the process, giving her time to figure out the way to thaw it. Of course, nothing played out the way she would have wanted. There were silly humans in the way, there always were. Finally, after all the drama, Khione couldn't slow the freezing any longer and allowed the girl to save Elsa before releasing her from her hold. She froze immediately, becoming a shinny statue of the bluest ice. As Elsa cried for her sister she began to thaw. Effectively, Anna's last act of love for Elsa had been enough to thaw the ice in her heart.

After that, Elsa had been able to stop the winter Arendelle had fallen on. Seemingly, just this had been enough for her to recover the love of her subjects, who had at first been afraid of her. But Khione had a hand on it. She asked Hestia to warm the hearts of those who held the strongest suspicions and dislike for her, in such way that if well they didn't love their Queen, they were at peace with her.

From that day on, Elsa had justly and wisely ruled Arendelle, being a benevolent and mostly loved Queen. She was no longer afraid and she completely mastered her powers, which were in constant display, now a source of amazement and entertainment for everyone. Khione took part in her daughter's joy, standing in the middle of her parties, unseen, and watching her smile, laugh and enjoy like she had never before.

Her father got angry because of it, but Khione simply replied that she wasn't breaking her oath, as she didn't stablish communication. Speechless and with a glare, he would leave her alone. In the same way, she had sworn that she wouldn't communicate with her daughter, but never that someone else couldn't do it in her stead. So she often sent Deandra to her, disguised as a lady of the court, with messages of encouragement and hope. The Queen never knew who was really behind it, she only thought Lady Derian (a name Deandra made up for herself) was very kind and had her for a very dear friend. Deandra was always happy to oblige, in anything to help her lady.

She smiled, thinking of Deandra back in the room. She was a common girl from Creta, back in the old days of Greece. Her father was a merchant and she often accompanied him on long voyages to the most exotic places. On an occasion they went to the North and she was fascinated with the snow, pure and beautiful and yet ruthless, worth of respect and fear. She had been so impressed that even back in Greece she held it in the highest respect, deemed it the most incredible element of nature, and became a worshipper of Khione, after finding she was the goddess of snow.

Khione was so moved by it that after the girl's death in a storm she personally went to Persephone and asked her to convince Hades of releasing her soul from the Underworld. That was easy enough, since Persephone was a good friend of hers. The hard thing had been convincing Zeus of giving her immortality. Nobody understood her desire of having a simple mortal by her side for eternity. They thought her reckless and naïve and dismissed her petition.

It had been Athena, however, who stood by her and talked her father into granting her wish. Khione had been no little surprised. She had a good relation with the Olympians, but not a particularly good one with Athena, the clever and cold goddess. Even when she didn't understand her reasons, she was very grateful. And like that, Deandra became her eternal companion, gladly serving her and truly becoming her friend. Her only friend. Only she had seen her at her worst and supported her through everything, helped her and listened, been a shoulder to cry on and a smile to cheer her up. She had done everything she could to please her.

Even put up with her when she became a monster.

Elsa died a mortal death, from old age and weariness. She never married and never had children, so when she died her sister Anna stepped up as Queen of Arendelle. Khione blessed Elsa's grave, making grow all over it a special type of flower that she had created, made of ice and diamonds. But after her death she realized that it was over.

After enduring the pain of leaving her only love, of hurting him, of watching how he found happiness with another woman and despised her forever, and finally losing him to a tragic death, the prospect of taking care of her daughter, even from afar, was the only thing that kept her going, that kept her from shattering. So when her beloved daughter was no more, only then did Khione actually realize how much she was hurting, how much rage she kept locked inside, how unfair and sad everything had been for her. How many and how bad grudges she held.

Towards her father, towards her brothers, towards the other gods…towards everyone. She turned her back on her father and always moved to the highest floor of their fortresses, as far away from her idiotic brothers as possible. Suddenly she despised the world, and everything on it. She hated how everyone could be happy and she had been deprived of it. How she had to suffer only because her father had plans of his own for her. How all the gods left their children to wander by themselves.

It repelled her. How Zeus, Poseidon and the other big gods had dozens and dozens of children but never cared for them. Just ensnared mortal women and left them to never come back again. How the goddesses, especially Aphrodite, that miserable, left sons and daughters scattered all around the world like it was the easiest thing, decided whether or not they were worth their time, whether or not they deigned to talk to them or sending them a sign. Whether or not they acted like a mother.

When she thought that she would've done anything, anything at all to have one moment, to hold in her arms once, to speak once to the only daughter she would ever have…..it made her blood boil. It made her want to teach them all a lesson, to show them the same pain. To shove their pompousness and arrogance down their throats and make them choke on it until they died. Such thoughts she'd never had before but now she basked on them. She wished for nothing else than taking revenge on them for her misery.

So when Gaea approached her, centuries after, with a tempting plan of revenge and world domination, a way to get unlimited power and respect, to silence everyone that had ever deemed her inferior, to punish all the gods that could play with anyone like they desired, she simply had to give in.

The plan was simple enough. Use her persuasive voice to provoke chaos among the gods, make the terrain favorable for the rising of Gaea's most powerful sons, the Giants, and then of Gaea herself, to overthrow Olympus and the gods. Stop any intruders-demigod intruders-that tried to interfere. She would give her all the information she needed, she just had to pledge her allegiance.

Though she agreed right away and showed how anxious she was for her revenge, appearing ruthless and evil to everybody, Deandra knew just how troubled she really was. She wanted to take revenge on the gods for how they treated their demigod children, but Gaea's plan implied destroying every single one of them as well. And in a vicious way: fueling the old rivalry between Greek and Roman demigods, so they destroyed themselves. It was ugly and nasty, and though troubled, Khione found herself more and more akin to the idea every day. That cold she had become. That bitter she was against the world.

And though she hated her father, had always hated him after her daughter's death, she needed him for Gaea's plan. At least until it worked and she could get rid of him, become Queen of the North Wind. She feigned pleasantry towards him, and he was fool enough to fall. She was having a hard time convincing him of rebelling against the other gods, as he lived in fear of them. But he would not stop her now. When she was Queen of the North she would do as she pleased. With the Underworld unleashed and she as a faithful servant of the new mistress of the world, she would bring Elsa back from the dead, and have her and Deandra as the only humans left in the world. She would succeed. Very close now.

"My lady!" Deandra's shriek got her out of her thoughts and she drew again the cloth over the painting before running back the hallway to the room. Deandra stood at the window, gawking at something outside.

"What is it?"

"A dragon," she answered, still looking outside. "A huge dragon flying right…..wait. It is a makeshift dragon!" she announced, confusion written all over her face.

"Is it bronze and red-eyed?"

"Yes," she opened the door of the balcony and leaned over the railing. "And it has three kids on its back."

Khione sighed. Just like she said.

For a long moment not another word was said. Khione stood next to the couch, with her back to the window, while Deandra tried to get a better view of the events.

"Have they intercepted them yet?" Khione finally asked.

"Yes, Lord Zethes is guiding them to the tower…Lord Calais too. They are approaching."

Khione could almost picture the idiots putting up their ridiculous act of gatekeepers and turning on their little flash things like the human patrols of the city. She got close to the window and could see the dragon's tail disappearing from their view.

"Fetch me a clean dress, Deandra. Teenager," she said suddenly. Deandra spun around to see her lady already walking away from the window. She closed the balcony door and followed her. Khione turned to her. She looked like she wanted to ask something, but she just bowed and went into the wardrobe. Khione walked up to her full length mirror on the opposite wall and closed her eyes. Finally, after so many years, it was time. She had to play her part.

"White, my lady?" Deandra called from the wardrobe room.

Khione took a deep breath and opened her eyes. She was no longer a young woman, but again a young girl, her ice-blue dress fitting her perfectly now.

"Yes," she answered in her best, much rehearsed emotionless voice. "And bring my hairbrush, too. I must go greet our visitors."

Love it, hate it, bear it? :P Let me know what you think of this, I feel I let my mind a bit too loose. Thanks for reading, you're the best guys ;) See you!