Ice and Cold

I don't own Frozen!

Sara had lived in her dark, cold little room with the sorcerer for almost a year. She didn't even get to write to her mother and father. If she did particularly well in a lesson the sorcerer would show her his magic mirror and allow her to view her family. She was young but she could tell that her mother was pregnant.

This worried her greatly. Would her mother and father forget her if they had another baby? What if it was like her? Would she be sent to live with the evil sorcerer like Sara?

She couldn't let these worrisome thoughts control her though. The sorcerer was constantly testing her powers and strengths, if she failed a test she was punished.

But she was learning to control her powers and her emotions. The wizard said that was the key, to keep her feelings close and shut off. It couldn't be healthy, but Sara did it anyways out of fear of the sorcerer.

The next time she saw her mother she was holding a blonde baby girl with bright eyes. Sara felt a pang of sadness pinch her heart but pushed it down. She couldn't feel. She was nine years old and had to act like a grownup now.

The wizard stepped behind her "Well, well, well!" He giggled "It seems they've replaced you."

"No." Sara said, trying to convince herself as much as the sorcerer "They-they can't have replaced me. I'm their daughter."

"Well then," he sneered "They've forgotten about you."

"Can we get back to training. Please." Sara asked, rudely.

"You're eager." The sorcerer mused "No. We won't train today. You're going to read these books and tell me what I'm thinking of teaching you next."

"Fine." Sara grabbed the books from the man who kept her prisoner.

"Oh and Dearie?"

"Yes?"

"I'll see you at dinner!" He cackled.

Sara stalked out of the room, slamming the door behind her, and stomped the whole way down to her dungeon, as she called it. Within three hours Sara had read the books. They were all about magic, but not her ice magic. It was strange. Then it dawned on her, the sorcerer wanted to teach her to be like him. He saw powerful magic in her and wanted to use it for his own gain.

Sara looked at the small clock he had given her, he said he was sick of her lateness. It was time for dinner. So she headed upstairs to the large dining room. A girl served dinner as Sara sat at one end of the long table and the sorcerer at the other end.

"Did you enjoy your reading?" The sorcerer asked the young blonde.

"I'm never going to be you."

"Whatever do you mean Dearie?" He asked.

"I will never be like you in any way, shape, or form. You and I are nothing alike and I will never become you." Sara growled as she picked at her food.

"But of course you will Dearie! And you will learn to use magic. You have no choice."

"Shut up."

"What did you say to me Dearie?" The wizard spoke menacingly.

"I told you to shut your mouth."

"That's what I thought." And the sorcerer waved his hand, Sara's food disappeared and her simple dress turned into rags. Her shoes vanished and a whip appeared in the sorcerer's hand. Without a word, Sara turned around and took her punishment of twenty cracks of the whip.

The wizard grabbed her hair and pulled her head back "Have you learned your lesson Dearie?"

"Yes sir." Sara choked out, holding back tears.

"Good. Now go back to your room." The wizard released his grip on her scalp and pushed her away from him. Sara stumbled as she got to her feet and scampered to her dungeon room.

As she had done every night since her parents had first sent her to live with the evil sorcerer, Sara lay down on her ratty blanket and allowed the tears to spill over.

The wizard finished his dinner and went back to his study. He watched through the looking glass as his young pupil cried herself to sleep. Pleased with his work, he sat down at his potion set and began to work on a new poison he was creating for a deal.

His plans for Sara were coming together very well indeed. He would break her down until she felt worthless, she would crawl to him and beg him to teach her the magic that would make her feel strong again, and, when he did, she would become the most dangerous and powerful human in Misthaven or any other land. With the exception of himself, as he was not actually human.

In her freezing room, Sara felt her tears turn to ice as they dropped onto her cheeks. She sat up, shaking, and looked at her hands, they were a pale blue. Quickly she tried to warm them up by wrapping them in some of the rags the sorcerer had changed her dress into. But as she touched the rags the turned pale purple and sparkly. Awe in her eyes, Sara lifted another, larger rag and it changed into a long scarf, embroidered with the crest of Arendelle. She gently rubbed the fabric against her cheek and found it to be soft and warm.

An idea popped into her head, she would create a dress that the sorcerer could not destroy with his evil magic. A dress to represent her pure heart and good hopes. If she succeeded, she would always be stronger than the wizard, better than the wizard, and she would never ever be weak again. Then she remembered that she was nine years old and had no idea how to make a dress. But she could make fabric and learn. She resolved to do so and make herself strong.

Word count: 989 words

Okay, the last bit is kinda weird but I wrote that part really late at night so forgive me. I wanted to write more but I couldn't think of anything else for this chapter. So this is what you get. Please comment, vote, and add to your reading lists!

Love,

The Author