Chapter 6
Pabbie
Stone was tough. Stone endured. But stone could be weathered, stone could be eroded, and the frozen heart was taking its toll upon the ancient troll kingdoms. "The night is coming, Kristoff," Pabbie, lord of the trolls, said as he carefully dusted the snow from his stony skin, "and our time is nearing an end."
"Don't say that, Grand-Pabbie," his son replied, though his expression betrayed the feelings in his heart, that he merely did not wish to admit what he had seen with his own eyes. "You're as much a part of this world as the earth and the trees."
"The earth, and the trees... Tell me, how much of that have you seen ever since you stepped foot in Arendelle?" Pabbie looked down, then beckoned Kristoff to him. "Come, walk by my side." His adopted grandson dutifully followed, and together they walked in silence for a while. Pabbie leaned down and grasped at the ground. "Look at this. What do you see, Kristoff."
"That's...a pebble, Grand-Pabbie."
"What do you think it was before it became a pebble?"
Kristoff was silent at this.
"Nothing is eternal, Kristoff. Not even us. Even stone can crack and weather and shear. We will not last through the night, Kristoff, but we can try to prepare you for a time." Pabbie sighed and shook his head. "Sometimes I look at the winter threatening to engulf us, and I can't help but blame myself. I should have provided more guidance to them."
"Wait, what do you mean?"
The troll lord looked back to his adopted grandson.
"I knew Princess Anna of Arendelle long before you brought her to me, Kristoff." And so he explained everything, of that fateful day when a king and queen brought one daughter to be healed and sought to avert an unenviable fate for another. The two walked together silently, until they had arrived at one of the formerly many heat vents that dotted the Valley of Living Rock.
"It's not your fault, Grand-Pabbie," Kristoff began, but Pabbie raised a hand to stop him.
"The past is in the past," Pabbie replied as he knelt to the ground and placed his hands upon the earth. "The ones you call Walkers. They grow more numerous each day, and they have been steadily encroaching upon our lands, bringing their unnatural cold with them. This is one of the last vents remaining, and it too will be covered. When they are finished here, they will march further south. Remember this, Kristoff. Against ice, fire." The troll lord concentrated, calling to the earth as he and his ancestors before him did in ages past, and heard it reply. Not feldspar. Not granite. Not sulfur. Not coal. Not diamond. Perhaps pumice, but it was too soft. Hundreds of rocks and stones sang their song, but Pabbie was looking for only one today.
Obsidian.
"Go, Kristoff. Spread the word. Bring back brothers, if you wish. We will teach them, if they can listen. But warn them, for the night is coming, and it will be dark and full of terrors."