Anna's senses were assaulted by a barrage of noise when she walked into the main room. Her eyes were still red from tears she had woken up to, and she had a strange sense of uneasiness, from dreams she couldn't recall. Only her sister, screaming in pain, alone. But around her, the morning was more awake than usual, as news spread about the invitation to the infamously closed castle.
"Wait, what?"
A pleasant woman, probably thirty years old, repeated herself to the confused princess. "In a few nights from now, the castle of Arendelle is hosting an open invitation dance, with food and winter clothing provided as a gift to the people of our realm." Her face crinkled into a concerned look, "Looks like the Princess Anna won't be attending... No one has heard from her, not that anyone has really seen much of her to begin with." She shook her head and quickly bustled off to tell whomever could hear her, leaving Anna in stunned silence. You have got to be kidding me.
Trying to get away from the news that she refused to believe, she walked outside, into the brisk, frosty air. It didn't make sense, none of it. When she left the castle, Elsa was in an emotional state far worse than Anna could have imagined. So locked away she wouldn't even let her sister speak with her, how was it that now, of all times, she was opening the gates? Icy wind snaked through her flaming hair, but Anna could only think about the dreams, and the fear that she felt manifesting slowly but surely in her sister.
As she walked, her worries were intruded on by a gruff voice. She looked up, startled to see a reindeer nuzzling up against a young, rough and jaded mountain man. They both were sitting against a sleigh that, though filled with cut ice, was being coated with a thin layer of the falling snow. Both man and animal looked like they hadn't washed in weeks. The man laughed as though the reindeer had said something, and offered it part of a carrot.
Anna kept walking towards them, slower now, but with a small smile on her face.
"He won't be bothering us again, will he, Sven?" the man said. He leaned over and, talking to himself, replied in a strange tone, "We didn't need a bed anyway, not with funny smelling humans."
"Um, hi," Anna said timidly, stepping in front of the sleigh.
The man jumped, and then rolled his eyes. "Can I help you?" He sounded irritable.
Anna shrugged, "Nope, just wandering by, needed to get away and think."
He huffed. "Most people like to think alone." He focused his attention back to petting the reindeer. "Away from people."
"Yeah, well," Anna leaned against the sleigh, "I overheard you talking about not having a bed, and, like most people," she imitated his grouchy tone, "I try to look out for people, and, you know, be nice and caring."
"Woah, don't touch the wood, that's a new coat of lacquer," he stood up and shooed her off. Once he had inspected the spot her shoulder had touched, he relented and looked at her. "The inn down the road wouldn't give Sven a place to sleep, and their prices were outrageous. So we left." He crossed his arms.
"Hmph," Anna stared at him for a moment, until he shifted his gaze and started sifting through a bag, feigning disinterest. She paced around the sleigh, looking over the ice and the snowy landscape, before kneeling in front of the mountain man again. "You don't have any money, do you?"
He scratched the back of his neck and looked away. "Well, I mean, of course I have money," he shrugged and stuttered, "It's just the principle of the thing. If they don't accept my friend, I won't accept them." He looked assured in his answer, but when she kept watching him, he shifted his gaze.
Her mind made up, Anna grabbed the man's arm and said, "Alright, come on, get up," she strained and pulled in vain until he finally got up and pulled his arm away.
"Hey! What are you doing?"
"I know of a way I can help," she said, grabbing his bag from the ground and lifting it over her shoulder.
He rolled his eyes again.
"I'm paying for your bed tonight, and tomorrow, we are going to the castle and you'll get winter clothes and food, and I've got something I need to take care of while I'm there; we'll both win."
He scoffed, "I don't need your help."
She looked him up and down. "When was the last time you slept somewhere that wasn't your sleigh?"
He opened his mouth, and shut it again.
"Thought so," she smiled triumphantly and turned to walk back to the inn, glad to take her mind off her worries for a while. "You got a name?" she called out behind her.
The reindeer looked at the man, then at Anna, and back at the man. He sighed. "Fine, I'll go." He started readying the sleigh. "Besides," he reasoned with Sven, "She kind of stole my bag."
As Anna became more distant in the blustering snow, he yelled after her, "And the name's Kristoff."
The castle was louder than Elsa had heard it for many years. It was as though a long hibernating animal had finally awoken from its slumber and the halls buzzed with excitement, with servants carrying more platters and utensils than Elsa had seen in many years. Although her heart pounded and she paced fearfully through the halls, still a part of the young woman was eager, if she let herself pretend she was normal for a moment.
Still, Elsa could remember times when the gates were opened and the lights flickered brightly, when she would dance on her father's toes and engage with all Arendelle's children, laughing through the night.
But those children had long since grown into fearful young adults, adults that would shudder to think of the monstrous power their queen had no control over.
As the sun set that evening, with three days left until the feast, Elsa attended supper alone in her room. Isolation had become something of a comfort after all these years, a solace from the wary looks people gave. It let her succumb to the numbness, to drift into the madness of her own mind. Isolation was a better drug than the death that gnawed away at her from the inside out.
Flakes of ice traced shapes and patterns above Elsa's pale hands, dancing around and over her fingers, their beauty only marred by their deadly taste for power. A knock echoed in her room and she quickly pulled her gloves back over her scarred arms and frosted hands.
She opened the oak door a crack and was greeted by a small smile on Prince Hans' face. He bowed when she saw him. "Good evening, your majesty."
Elsa inclined her head. "Prince Hans, what can I do for you?"
"Well, I was just wandering the grounds, and I stumbled across the garden." He shifted awkwardly, but kept his eyes on hers. "You just seem like the type of person who likes quiet evenings, so I was wondering if perhaps you'd like to take a walk in the gardens with me?"
He extended a gloved hand, but Elsa hesitated. "Just a short walk," he added, "to take your mind off things."
Elsa slipped through the door and shut it quietly behind her. The air seemed warmer somehow as she replied, "A walk in the gardens sounds lovely."
The moonlight shone like a dream on the shimmering ice fractals that painted the flowerbeds and trees, and two humans talked, about nothing in particular. Hans asked about her family, her parents, which flower she liked best.
Elsa even managed to smile as she talked about her bright little sister. "She used to pull the most ridiculous stunts growing up. She would ride her bike down the stairs, swing from the curtains…" She shook her head. "I think she has more broken bones than normal ones."
Here, for the first time in Elsa's life, was someone who knew her only by talking with her, rather than from the closed doors and deadly rumors. He was quieter around her than he was with anyone else. Usually the life of the party, she found that Hans was content to listen and observe when he was with her.
And for once, Elsa was seen as a person, not a monster.
The ice queen had a small smile on her face when Hans finally escorted her back to her room. He smiled and bowed one more time. "Thank you for your company, highness."
The breeze had subsided outside. "You can call me Elsa."
"Of course." Hans turned to leave with one last farewell. "Goodnight, Elsa."
"Goodnight, Hans."
The people of Arendelle remarked how much warmer that night was compared to the last few weeks, and Elsa's dreams were for once silent of her screaming demons.