As always, big thanks to my amazing editors Drucilla and BlueShifted!

TW: Suicide Idealization.

Ratface is a "new" addition to the story when it was made in my head, although by new I mean about a year or two.


Despair and agony didn't stop time, but they did make Minnie less aware that it was passing. When Minnie was put to bed, she didn't get up for hours, which turned into days. When her parents tried to speak to her, she didn't hear them. When Mama tried to put food in her mouth, she didn't acknowledge it. Although her body ached from hunger and grew sore from lack of movement, it seemed incredibly small compared to the pain in her heart. Mickey was gone, and it was her fault. In retrospect, everything was pointless.

Eating was pointless. Sleeping was pointless. Talking was pointless.

On day three of Minnie's mourning, Papa entered her room quietly and sat down on the bed, taking off his hat. He didn't say anything initially, thumbing the hat in his hands and observing his daughter who was becoming thinner by the day. When he finally thought of something to say, it was as if he was making it up off the top of his head. "You need to get up," he said softly, not looking at her. "School's over soon... you'll have to start your new job. Sewing's a fine thing. We need all the help we can get with our clothes... we're not getting new material in. And your mother is wasting food if you won't eat it."

He didn't think this would be enough to stir Minnie, and he was sadly correct. He reached out to touch her hand, squeeze it, but even that didn't get her to as much as look at him. He sighed deeply, getting up and placing his hat back on his head. "Better him than you, Minnie. You're a good girl. You always have been. What good does it do anyone if you lay here the rest of your days?" With that, he left, closing the door behind him.

Night had already fallen, and Papa and Mama went off to bed. But as Minnie lay there, she finally heard what someone had said – unfortunately, she understood it a different way. Yes, it wouldn't do anyone any good to lay there forever.

It wouldn't do anyone any good if she continued to exist.

She wordlessly rose from her bed, aware of what needed to be done. If everything was pointless, that included living. Why burden her parents? Why burden the village? Ultimately she had even been a burden to Mickey. If not for her, maybe he'd still be here. Without making a sound, she found the string to the attic, and pulled it down, climbing up the stairs to the forbidden room. It had become even mustier, and the singular window even dirtier. This time she paid no attention to the alluring mysteries of the room, and headed to the window with one goal in mind.

Yes, maybe from this height, she could...

The snow had stopped falling, though she couldn't say when. Didn't care, either. She stepped out into the night, letting the chill embrace her. If Mickey was dead, she'd merely be joining him. Yes, this was for the best, wasn't it? Everyone would be better off without her. She stepped onto the terrace, and then onto the edge, looking out across the village. Nothing here would ever change, even if one by one they were snatched away by the Snow Queen. Even if one girl ceased to be, it would still go on. No one would miss her. No one would care.

Everything would feel better if she just gave up.

She inhaled deeply – and then flinched as a harsh wind blew around her. It felt like a slap to the face, and when she opened her eyes, she saw a red petal fly in front of her.

The color stood out so brilliantly that it stopped Minnie completely. She blinked several times, assuring herself that it wasn't an illusion. But where had it come from? She faltered, and then fell backwards with a little "Oof!", sitting on hard dirt. But what was dirt doing...? The memories came back all at once – Mickey's attempt at a garden.

There, surrounded by dozens of other dead attempts at the same flower, stood one singular red rose. It was even more beautiful than the illustration in Mickey's books, a red she'd never seen in any food or clothing before. She felt her mouth open in shock, and as she observed the area around the rare flower, she could see this hadn't been Mickey's first attempt. He'd dug various holes, planted many seeds, and although each one kept dying, he still attempted. He never told Minnie about this, perhaps not wanting to get her hopes up until he finally succeeded. How many times had he tried? Five? Ten? Twenty? She was losing count. And he'd done this for years, and years, and years.

An image came to her then, of little Mickey stubbornly making another dirty hole with his fingers and planting the seed, tucking it in gently with a proud smile on his face. He didn't have any proof it would work, yet he saw no reason to stop. He kept trying. He never gave up on it.

And he never gave up on Minnie, either. Even as the Snow Queen had loomed over him, he had told her to leave Minnie be.

Minnie heaved, and then covered her mouth for what she knew was to come – a scream. An agonizing, horrible scream as her body allowed her to properly grieve. Hot tears flooded her eyes, making the world a blur. Here she had been ready to throw away her life, when Mickey had done everything in his power to protect her. What had she been about to do? She choked hard on her sobs, wishing she could apologize to Mickey for her selfishness. He had been trying so hard to convey what she couldn't understand until this rose showed her – she had a reason to live, and he was that reason.

Her hands dropped, clenching the dirt. She couldn't go on living without him, so what was there to do? He wasn't going to return, no one ever came back from the Snow Queen's grasp. As her cries died down, her eyes staying on the rose, the rest of her mind began to settle. If one took away all obvious options, such as staying here and waiting, then... really, there was only one thing to do.

Minnie had to get Mickey back.

She blinked at the rose, not surprised when a slightly rational part of her chided this idea. What could a stupid, weak girl like her possibly do against the powerful Snow Queen? How would she even find the magical witch? What if she got a shard in her just like Mickey did? There were a million reasons not to do this. Yet they all seemed inconsequential to the one obvious truth.

Minnie wanted him back. So that was that.

After swallowing once, she brushed down her clothes, and then crept over to the rose. Mickey had left some tools around the garden, and she used his small pocketknife to chip away the thorns on the rose. With that accomplished, she plucked it out of the dirt and placed it behind her left ear. It would do well as a reminder of her goal, a part of him that was always with her.

She looked back at the window, and understood she had to do this now, and quickly. If her parents discovered what she was going to attempt, they'd surely stop her. No doubt the rest of the village would feel the same way. It was now or never. She came back to the window, crawling inside, and left the attic. She found her school satchel, and emptied the books out – she could only afford to grab a few things, and she didn't want to risk making too much noise and waking up her parents. She held onto Mickey's pocketknife, tucking it in first, along with a few vegetables for food. She didn't want to deprive her parents of anything necessary, and genuinely didn't know how long this would take.

With her satchel over her shoulders, she headed out into the snow. Minnie knew that the Snow Queen's sled had come from the woods, so, logically, she must go into the woods. Surely if she walked around long enough, she'd have to come across her lair eventually, even if it meant going all over the world. Her knowledge of what laid beyond the village was minimal, as the school hadn't seen any worth in teaching it. Part of her knew she was wholly unprepared, but she still walked forward, the world silent save for her footsteps crunching on powder.

After a certain point, they crunched something else. Minnie stopped and looked down, seeing a familiar glint buried beneath the snow. After a moment of hesitation, she bent down to dig it out – and there lay the necklace that Mickey had bought for her.

"Will you be my bride?"

She never gave him an answer. He deserved one. If she couldn't bring him back to the village, she could at least give him an answer. She brushed the snow off the necklace, seeing her unwanted reflection in the red, and tucked it into her satchel. She didn't feel she was worthy of wearing it. Not until she told Mickey what she wanted to say.

With that settled, Minnie continued walking towards the woods. She had never ventured in there before, and the closer she got, the taller the trees became. By the time she was definitely inside the woods, they seemed to stretch on forever into the heavens. She walked on, eyes flitting here and there, rather curious about this place she'd never reached before. She had expected to be frightened, and while she was, it didn't wholly consume her. She walked and walked and walked, walked as hunger began to nibble at her belly, as exhaustion tugged at her ankles, as sleep tried to nudge her eyelids.

She walked on as the sun began to rise, and the tree's shadows crisscrossed over her, and she felt an odd comfort in that. It was if the trees were watching over her, and giving their blessings for her journey. She knew it was a silly thought, but one Mickey would chuckle one. At first she heard him chuckling, but then realized what she was actually hearing – there was a rustle in the tree's branches in front of her.

Minnie slowed her walk to a stop, and it was only due to the dawn's sunlight that she saw what was making the sound. There, at a very low branch, was a large black raven, cleaning its wing with its beak. Minnie found herself smiling – animals were getting rarer to see with every passing year, so this was a treat. She observed the cute thing with its dark feathers and green eyes. The bird finished cleaning, and then met Minnie's eyes, blinking at her.

"Hello, pretty bird," said Minnie.

"Hello, pretty girl," said the bird.

Minnie almost walked on, except – wait a minute. She then whirled her head back to the tree, startled. While her education was severely limited, even she knew that birds weren't supposed to talk. She stared hard at the raven, wondering if she'd lost her mind. She was glad she was alone when she asked, "Did you just speak?"

"It would've been awfully rude if I didn't, don't you think?" the raven replied, leaning his head down to get a better look at her.

Minnie waited a bit, then pinched her cheek – this was real life, all right. "But... but birds don't talk."

"And yet here I am, talking away." The raven clicked his tongue. "You may be a pretty thing, but you're not terribly bright, I see. After all, what is a young one like you walking alone in these woods for?"

It was a fair question, and Minnie decided that trying to find sound reason in the bird's existence wouldn't get her anywhere. "I'm... The Snow Queen took my friend, so I'm going to bring him back." It sounded so simple when she said it out loud, despite the very words themselves being impossible.

The raven appeared to think the same way, as after he was finished gawking at her, he began to laugh, one wing on his belly. "You? You think YOU can bring back one of the Snow Queen's prisoners?" He laughed more, hopping on the branch, and Minnie patiently waited for him to run out of breath. She was rather annoyed at his reaction, but couldn't blame him, so there was no use in getting angry about it. "What makes you think you can do what no one else has done? You're not even headed in the right direction!"

Minnie's eyes widened, and she sprinted towards the tree. "Does that mean you know where it is?"

The raven snapped his beak shut, and then looked away, pretending to be an average, ordinary bird. He even tried to chirp, but it sounded more like a grown adult mimicking a pitiful bird call than a real one. Minnie gave him a curt look, and he grumbled, "So what if I did know?"

"Oh please, pretty bird," Minnie begged, her hands on the tree, trying to tippy-toe up to implore as best she could. "Please show me where the Snow Queen lives! I must get my friend back, I must tell him what he needs to hear!"

"And why should I do such a thing?" the raven asked her, its beady eyes squinting. "What can you do for me?"

It only occurred to Minnie now that she hadn't brought any money or anything truly worth exchanging. She felt dumber than ever, and fished around in her satchel for something she hoped a bird would crave. "I have some tasty vegetables!"

"Pass. I'm full."

"How about a pocketknife?"

"Pass. My beak and my claws do plenty."

That left her with just the necklace, and Minnie was reluctant to part with it. She glanced at the raven, and then at the satchel, before closing it up and walking away. "All right. Goodbye, pretty bird."

The raven stared at her back, incredulous, and then jumped off the branch, flying to the next tree. "Hey, hey, hey! What's wrong with you? Aren't you mad at me?"

"No," which wasn't entirely true, but as always, Minnie felt no need to feel. "I don't have anything to give you, so I'll just have to find her myself."

"You'll never find her on your own! You'll wither and die long before that! If you had any brains between those big ears of yours, you'd go back home." But no matter how much he insulted her and informed her about chances that she was more than well aware of, she didn't stop. Minnie continued to walk on, face forward, never looking back. The raven flitted from tree to tree, and Minnie found herself walking towards the trees he occupied.

Was she just lonely, or was he leading her around? Minnie quietly hoped he wasn't trying to take her back to the village, but to her relief, they came upon a riverbank. A few empty wooden fishing boats lay on the shore with abandoned nets, with Minnie remembering that the fish supply was getting low. The raven flew to the closest boat and sat on the edge. "See, you'll never get anywhere now. The river is barely moving. It'll take you forever and a half to get there, you'll never last."

Minnie raised her eyebrows. "I was thinking of walking along the river's edge. Are you saying it's faster to get there by boat?" When the raven said nothing, she spoke again. "I think you do actually want to help me, pretty bird. You're just being very silly about it. Would you like to come with me?"

"What I said still stands," the raven huffed, turning his cheek away, ruffling his black feathers. "Look at the river, it's at a standstill. You can't force the tide. You'll have to walk, and then you'll get tired and cry and give up. You people aren't made for the stuff it takes."

Didn't that just raise a whole new field of questions? But Minnie was certain if she tried to ask directly, the raven would dodge them. She looked at the river, and then approached it until the water almost touched her shoes. She saw herself reflected in the clear water, and thought, and thought, and thought.

"Do you know what they call your village?" the raven asked, leaning back and forth on the boat. "They say it's the land of the walking corpses. You people may as well be dead already, if not on the outside." Minnie didn't know if this was true, or if he was just trying to rile her up. He certainly was a strange one, and thus Minnie decided she had to embrace just how weird her entire trip was going to be. It gave her an odd sense of freedom, and she nodded to herself.

"Maybe if I give the river something, it'll help me," she decided out loud.

The raven stared at her, and then scoffed. "Give the river something? You are truly insane, pretty girl. What sort of gift could a river want?"

Minnie couldn't imagine a river could want, but that wasn't the point of the gesture. She thought of the villagers who complained when they lost things when fishing, only to be educated by their peers that complaining would solve nothing, they should be grateful for what they kept, so on and so forth. "People lose things by accident in the water," Minnie concluded, and then bent over. "But no one's ever given you anything on purpose, have they?"

The raven shook his head. "The girl's talking to a river. What a loon."

Unfazed, Minnie went on. "It's not much, but it's what I can afford to give you. I don't know if you can take me all the way to where the Snow Queen is... but if you could give me any sort of help, I would be grateful. My friend was taken away, and he asked me something very important. I need to give him an answer." With that, she slid off her shoes, and pushed them into the water.

"That's not going to..." The raven began, trailing off as the shoes floated in the water, and then were pushed back onto the dry shore.

Minnie took a deep breath. "Please, river! Please, take them. I must see my friend again, please, please!" She bent her head low, and the raven noted this was the first spot of emotion, aside from surprise, he'd seen from her.

The water pushed forward, and then back, swallowing up the shoes. The river rippled, and then began to churn forward, slowly, and the boat the raven was sitting on began to rock. Minnie sighed in relief, and then began to climb into the boat. "Thank you very much, river. When I come home, I will tell everyone to clean you up." The boat was small, simple, able to fit two, which for Minnie was more than enough. It floated quietly on the stream and began to leave the shore.

"That shouldn't have worked," the raven grumbled, though he didn't move.

Minnie placed her satchel down on the bottom. "Maybe it was just good luck," she offered in an attempt to appease her companion.

However, it did the opposite, as the bird suddenly jerked, and its green eyes hardened. "What... did you say?"

"I said, maybe it was just good luck?"

Suddenly the bird flew at her face, screeching, "DON'T YOU EVER SAY THAT WORD AGAIN!" And Minnie gave a cry of surprise, gripping the boat's side so she wouldn't fall out.

"W-what word?" She stammered, worried he might try to claw her face with his sharp talons or his rough beak.

"LUCK!" he snapped at her, and although he came close to her eyes he didn't once hurt her. "Luck is the mindset of the fool! The epitome of stupidity! Anyone who relies on luck should be hung from their feet and made to suffer for all eternity! If you ever say that word in front of me again, I'll leave you and never return!" He then flew to the opposite end of the boat and sat, his wings shuddering, his back to her.

Minnie blinked slowly, natural curiosity making her wonder what in the world could have happened to him to make him despise such a word. She sat up slowly, smoothing down her dress, and tried to think of what to say. They floated along the river in silence for a moment. "I'm sorry," she finally attempted. "I didn't mean to upset you, pretty bird. You have my word, I'll never say lu-... that word again."

The raven turned his head, although he didn't look back at her yet. "I suppose you have little fault, you didn't know." His voice was much softer now, and he appeared to be looking at his form in the water. When he spoke again, it was once more arrogant and haughty. "But if we're to do this impossible quest, you need to give me your name. Can't go calling you pretty girl all the time, it will give you a swelled head."

Fair enough. Minnie sat up straighter. "My name is Minnie... but, then, what do I call you?"

Again, the raven looked at himself, and then with one hop, he turned around. "You will call me Ratface," he declared, as if he thought it to be terribly clever.

Minnie blinked slowly. Whenever people discussed rats in her home, it was usually as a derogatory term. "Are you sure? It doesn't sound very nice." It seemed very rude to call someone that, especially one who was going to help her, reluctant and strange though the help may be.

"It's what you will call me," Ratface replied, waving a wing to dismiss the matter. "And I will respond to nothing else. If you can't handle that, you may as well go back home."

She sighed quietly to herself. "Very well... Ratface." In her mind's eye, she could see Mickey reacting to the raven with a mixture of annoyance and bemusement. She couldn't recognize that these were actually her own feelings, as they were so foreign. "Ratface, may I take a nap? I have not slept in some time, and if this is going to be such a long journey, I'd like to get some sleep. Will you wake me up when the boat has reached the shore?"

"I might," Ratface said, and Minnie understood this was as good as she was going to get from him.

"Thank you, Ratface. For everything." She then moved until she was on the floor of the small boat, and rested her head upon her satchel, her eyes closed. Ratface walked along the boat's edge, observing her quietly. His eyes were on her lips, which smiled so strangely, as if she could not tell she had been smiling. This was the sort of girl the world of the Snow Queen produced, so he thought. What would she have been like if there wasn't a Snow Queen?

Add that to his extremely long list of "what if"s. He waited until he saw the natural rise and fall of her chest, and then dipped his wing into the river. The water was warm, which didn't surprise him any. He'd lived long enough to know that the whole world was full of mysteries and monsters, and sometimes you'd never get an explanation for things. Some rivers listened. Some did not. Some people listened. Some did not.

He then walked quietly onto the boat's floor, and used his wet wing to lightly clean bits of Minnie's hair that been ravaged by her dormant stages of grief, and then smoothing it out with his beak. He then laid beside her, his dry wing covering her eyes so the sun wouldn't disturb her. He didn't sleep himself, didn't have to. He tried not to think of the "what if"s, and yet one inevitably came.

What if Minnie was the one?


Mickey had drifted in and out of consciousness during his capture, so it was impossible to tell how much time had passed since he arrived in... well, of that, he wasn't sure either. He seized onto this moment with all the strength he had, which was barely any, and as his vision tried to straighten, he saw himself reflected everywhere – on the walls, on the ceiling, on the floor, as if he was surrounded by ice. He wasn't standing by his own will – the two riders of the sled were holding him up by the arms, not paying him any attention otherwise. He tried to find his voice, and it came out in harsh breaths. "Wh-who... are you...?"

But they didn't acknowledge him. Their blue eyes stayed ahead, unblinking, their touch as cold as death. He heard footsteps, which was easy – whatever this place was, it was so large and empty that any noise echoed endlessly. It was no great shock who the footsteps came from. The Snow Queen approached the trio, staff in hand, eyes on him. Mickey gave in to anger easily, and tried to wrestle his arms out of their grasp, but all it amounted to was a pathetic wiggling of his fingers. "Y-You..." It hurt to speak, yet he felt he must. "Can't make me... stop... loving her..."

"I can," the Snow Queen said casually, and then she touched his cheek, her cold touch like daggers slicing his skin. "I must admit... you've held on longer than most. But in the end, you will be like all the others. If you give up now, the rest of this will go much smoother."

Had Mickey the strength, he would have spat at her feet. Granted, had Mickey the strength, there was a lot he'd like to do. Instead, his body gave his strength to his eyes, which allowed him to see what lay beyond the icy walls – and horror grew inside his chest.

Soldiers, just like the ones at his sides, hundreds of them, men, women, old, young, staying absolutely still. All of them with the same blue eyes, and Mickey knew what his fate would be – what the fate of all those who had dared to love had been. What words could he say that they didn't say before their time was up? "Why..." he breathed, chest hitching. "Why are you... doing this? I just want her... to be happy... It's not fair..." It was childish at this point, but it was all he had.

The Snow Queen began her ritual, holding the staff with two hands, and the mirror began to glow. The crack in the glass began to spread. "One shard to freeze your mind..."

Whatever was to come next, there was no turning back. "You would understand, if you just... If you just... tried to love someone!"

The impact those words had on the Snow Queen was immediate – her entire body clenched, and there was a pain in her eyes so deep and wretched that took her away to a time years ago. No wonder this boy reminded her of - She staggered, teeth clenched, and when she spoke again, it was a hiss. "Two shards... to freeze your heart!"

So she had – this time the shard came without needing the third commandment, large and sharp as a knife, cutting off Mickey's thoughts so harshly he did not have the ability to scream. The color vanished from his fur, from his face, leaving nothing but white skin and blue eyes. But this transformation was much more painful, contorting the bones and muscles underneath until they were hard and cold, his clothes transforming into the armor that all the other soldiers donned. In his mind, he could see the village vanishing, his people vanishing, and Minnie, Minnie, Minnie, he wanted to call her name, to announce that nothing and no one could stop him from loving her, he just wanted to see her smile again, Minnie -

And then she was gone.

Mickey's head slumped forward... and then rose slowly, his body straightening up. The soldiers at his side released him. The Snow Queen breathed deeply, then softly, settling back into her calm demeanor. That had been nothing. She felt nothing. Anything the boy had tried to dredge up was dead and buried. What she was doing was her right. Love brought nothing but pain to this world, and it was her duty to eliminate it. She was saving this world.

The continuing winter and snow, that was punishment for those who continued to love. If everyone would just give up, they could see the greenery again. Yet there would always be fools, so there would always be suffering.

With that in mind, she raised her hand over the floor, and summoned up a new weapon for her new soldier – a blade of ice, and Mickey took it wordlessly. "As my newest soldier, you will prove your worth. There are lands that continue to defy me... and they will have to be punished."

The staff began to shrink down, until the mirror could be held in her hands. With this, she could see all that she wished to see, and the mirror glowed before giving an image. "You will head for the Golden Kingdom, and you will take the princess." The soldiers didn't respond, not that she expected them to, as the mirror showed the image of a young woman with yellow curls twirling around in a new blue dress.

The image then began to change, to show someone else, to show what she once wished to see – and she quickly threw it to the floor before she saw it. How bothersome, to think that her magic could still have flaws after all these years.

How bothersome to think that she could still have flaws after all these years. But they would be fixed. The world would be fixed. Even if it took her until the end of time, love would die.

Only then would the world know peace, and wasn't it the duty of any angel to give the world peace?