It was too quiet in Elsa's room for her parents to stand it. Adgar took a few steps back and charged as fast as he could into the door, Idun only just managing to get out of the way. The force shattered the ice holding it shut, and it swung open violently with a loud crash.

They were immediately struck with a blast of frigid air, and their eyes fell upon the wintery nightmare that was their daughter's room. But the dangerous ice and terrifying atmosphere went ignored by them when they saw Elsa, curled up in a tight ball on the floor surrounded by shards of glass. They raced to her side. Adgar caught sight of scarlet blood against the white floor and on her wrist, but realized that there was not enough of it. He dropped down, picked up the bloodied shard and pitched it against the wall on the other side of the room. He then undid his jacket and un-tucked his undershirt so he could tear off a scrap of fabric to wrap around her injured wrist.

Idun dropped to her knees and reached out to pull her daughter into a much-needed hug. Right before her fingers reached Elsa's shoulder she stopped, painfully remembering that Elsa was so petrified of hurting them that she had sworn off human contact. Now, Idun had no idea what to do: she desperately wanted to embrace her daughter, but she was afraid that the touch would push her off the edge she was already so precariously standing on.

"Just this once."

Both the King and Queen of Arendelle were floored by three, barely spoken words uttered by a broken girl crumpled on the ground. Elsa was in tears, and her breathing ragged, but she managed to find the strength to repeat, "J…just this once. Please."

Idun needed no other invitation, and moved in before Elsa came to her senses and changed her mind. She took hold of Elsa's shoulders and pulled her into the strongest hug she had ever given. "Oh Elsa," she crooned as she burst into tears, "It's ok, Baby. I'm here. I've got you."

For some reason, those words only made Elsa's cries stronger, but instead of recoiling as she always had, she pressed herself closer to her mother's body and buried her face in her shoulder. Idun held her tighter, rubbing small, soothing circles on her back. She glanced up at Adgar. She was furious with him, but she knew he was as hurt as she was about this. The only thing that was present on his face was unimaginable sorrow and remorse as he saw what had become of his beautiful daughter – because of him.

"I…I'm s…sorry," Elsa stammered weepily, "It…it just hurts s…so much, Mama."

"Don't worry, Elsa. It's ok…It's ok." Idun honestly had no idea if things would ever be "ok" again. It broke her heart to watch her daughter live such a miserable life for so long, and now it only mashed the broken pieces into a fine powder to see what those years have finally done. Adgar had always been quick to remind her of what could have happened: that they could have lost a child that night all those years ago. Well, he was wrong – they had lost a child, just not the one they thought it would be.

She held onto her daughter's body and took note of everything she had missed since Elsa started to refuse touch. Her hair, though messy at the moment, was unnaturally soft despite the tangles. Her skin was smooth and cool to the touch, instead of warm. She also grimly noticed just how frail her body felt in her arms; she could feel Elsa's ribcage underneath several layers of thick clothing. Their servant, Kai, always brought Elsa her meals, and would then report to them. It was through him that they found out that she had not been eating, but that revelation had come years ago, so she must have been sustaining herself somehow.

And then there was her face. Her beautiful features were marred with lines and shadows of constant worry and dread. Her mouth seemed to be permanently downturned, and whenever she had to smile it was clear it was a forced – yet well-rehearsed – smile. Her eyes, once so full of life, love and happiness, were now only filled with fear and sadness. Idun could no longer look into them, because she saw every bit of pain Elsa had ever felt in those icy orbs. The seventeen-year-old bore dark bags under her eyes, and the beginnings of stress lines where a girl her age should never have them. Even her hair seemed to reflect her rapidly aging form, as Idun remembered there being more blonde and less white in the locks. It could have just been a side effect of her powers growing stronger, but Idun was not sure which explanation she preferred.

The night passed slowly and painfully. No one said anything for a long time. Both the King and Queen remained on the floor, silently comforting the Princess. Eventually, her breathing began to calm and her sobs were less sporadic. As she became more relaxed, the room began to change. First, the temperature rose. Then, the snow that had been hovering in the air disappeared. The ice followed after it. But unlike ice from past accidents that melted and left large puddles of water on the floor to clean up, all of the ice from this moment disappeared without a trace, leaving everything completely unharmed. It was a miracle that did not go unnoticed by the monarchs.

As the last snowflake melted, Idun looked down to see that Elsa had fallen asleep in her arms. "Oh, my Baby," she muttered softly as she stroked Elsa's hair, "My sweet, little fairy." 'Why did all of this have to happen to you, Elsa?'

Adgar did not have to hear that question to know it was on his wife's mind. He thought a similar thing, himself. Idun glanced around the room. The deadly icicles may have left, but the shards of glass from the window and mirror still remained. "I'll go get a broom and dustpan from Gerda," she said to Adgar, "We…we can't leave broken glass in here." She wished it was just because it was a danger to step on, but if this experience taught her anything, it was that they would now have to be extra vigilant for a while.

The King swallowed hard, but solemnly nodded. Idun attempted to get up from underneath her daughter, but Elsa seemed to sense that she was leaving and thus clung even more tightly to her dress. A new wave of tears sprung from the Queen's eyes as she realized that once Elsa came to her senses in the morning, this would never happen again.

"May I?" Adgar asked carefully as he leaned toward them.

Idun eyed him warily, but allowed him to take the Princess and pull her into his arms. Even while unconscious, Elsa recognized where she was, and snuggled up to her father's chest. In that single action, she placed all of her trust into his hands without even realizing it. "Don't worry," he said to both of them, "I'll watch over her."