Elsa collapsed on her bed with a groan. Already it had been a long day.
After spending the better part of the night cleaning her own frosty mess up, she awoke at the first fringes of dawn to meet with the head of the butchers' guild as planned.
What was supposed to be a relatively painless meeting turned into a session of dispute and disappointment, as the butchers' chairman requested more salt than was previously given—three more carriages full. With queenly firmness, she refused him, stating that the remainder of Arendelle's salt was to be used otherwise and that she had given the guild plenty to last. The fat man was quick to backlash. "Your parents, God rest their souls, would give us thrice as much salt as you have done, my most reasonable queen."
Elsa's tempered flared; how dare he bring her parents into this? She knew for a fact that the guild obtained less than two carriages of yearly salt during her mother and father's rule. Though no change of expression crossed over her face, the room's temperature dropped perceptibly. The chairman shivered. "Y-your majesty. Did you feel that?"
"Yes, perhaps Rheba left a window open while cleaning again." She closed her eyes and inhaled. Control it...control it. "My most untruthful chairman," she said, stare needle-like, "you and I know what you just claimed was a lie. Take leave immediately before I am tempted to enact my right to relieve you of your position. Don't say another word. Go." The chairman's red lips drew into a hard line. Giving a curt bow, he turned sharply and exited the grand hall in a huff, leaving the queen alone where she sat. She waited. The front gate slammed, her breath puttered out in a gasp, and the throne froze over solid.
OoOoOoOoOoOoOo
Ugh. Elsa lay sprawled out on her bed, thoroughly done with the day. She had cancelled all but one of her upcoming appointments—maybe the most important one of her life. If her prayers were answered, Jack's lesson with her tomorrow would teach her enough control to carry on with next week's meetings. As of now, that was an impossibility; her restraint over her abilities was minimal at best. The people would begin to question her. Icicles crackled along her bedframe at the thought, and she gave a heartfelt sigh. "They're definitely getting worse..."
"Don't you mean better?" corrected an obscure voice from the other side of the room. The queen jumped to her feet.
"W-Who's there!"
"Boo." A tall man stepped from behind a curtain. Funny, that curtain was a sheer material; she hadn't noticed him.
"Who are you? What are you doing in my room? Speak quickly. I will call the guard."
"All these questions and demands," said the gray man, crossing his arms. "You are a queen, aren't you? Yet so young…" He touched his face. "Mother and Father not around?" A light snow began to fall from the ceiling, but the young queen didn't respond. "Ah. That answers my question." He opened a slim hand, allowing snowflakes to gather in it. "Interesting…so you can see me." Elsa's elegant brows furrowed.
"Answer me," she commanded. "Who are you, and why are you here?"
"All in good time, your majesty, all in good time… Now—"
"G-Guard—!" she tested. The man raised his eyes to the ceiling.
"Oh, shut it. That's not going to scare me off. You dismissed your guards to the gates long ago. Not your best kept secret…but then, I know your best kept secret." He crushed the snow in his hand and gave her a waning smile. Elsa bit the inside of her cheek, drew herself up.
"What do you want?"
"Ooo, such hostility. I like it. Well, I'm not going to waste your time by flogging a dead horse—" A dark whinny of protest sounded in the distance. He rolled his eyes. "Sorry. Just my ride. But what do I want? Simple: I want you." Elsa made a face of disgust. "Oh, stop. You're the same as Frost. I mean I want your powers."
"M-my powers? But they're—"
"—yours? A part of you? Hmm, I seem to remember something…what did you call them—a curse?" He kicked at her carpet, revealing a long, jagged tear down its middle. She recoiled.
"Hold on, just how long have you been spying—"
"Again with the spying. Honestly. You and Frost are more alike than you know. It's called curiosity, your majesty, and if I do say so myself—I believe it's paid off."
"Well, you're wrong. Even if I could give you my powers, I wouldn't." The snowfall in the room grew heavier.
"See—that's what I'm talking about. You can hardly control them. You're cursed." He opened his arms wide. "Let me liberate you." Elsa frowned.
"You can't liberate me. It's ludicrous to speak of, and who are you to ask—"
"Tch. I see I will have to convince you." With a raise of his hand, a dark torrent of black, sand-like particles escaped from his open palms. They descended upon her, swirling around and around, becoming denser, closing in, scrapping at her face. Elsa's fear mounted, ice traveled up her spine, whiteness crept into her field of vision, threatening to consume her—then he stopped. The fine particles retreated back into his palms, save a stubborn dusting that lingered in the air about her.
Elsa stepped back, shaken, and licked her lips nervously. She tasted something on the air. What was it? "Now that you see that I am not just anyone," his expression darkened, "will you hear what I have to say?" She nodded dumbly in reply. "Very well." He leaned a shoulder against a nearby pillar, and Elsa slumped on the edge of her bed.
"Regardless of your protests, I believe there is way for your powers to be transferred unto myself. The idea stemmed from observing you and Frost last night. You had lost control, and unthinkingly he grabbed your hands—or was it instinct? For instead of killing him, rather he absorbed your cold energy into himself, and neither of you were worse for the wear—am I right, your majesty?"
"I-I felt a bit drained, but no."
"Exactly. Drained is the perfect word to describe it. You felt drained because you were—you lost some of your powers last night. An insignificant portion, but still." His voice fell to a whisper, and he leaned in closer. "Now…imagine that you had more control—that you were able to expel all of your power through him."
"I-I would be powerless…and exhausted." He nodded, grinning.
"Yes. And completely normal." He paused, letting it sink in. Elsa's mind whirled. "Conversely, I highly suspect Frost would experience a tremendous surge in his own powers….or that someone without wintry influence would simply gain them. Hear me out, your majesty. You've seen that I have my own kind of abilities, and I assure you that I am in complete control over them. If you give me your powers, I would easily master them. I would harm no one; they would be for my pleasure alone. No longer would you live in the fear of hurting others—your sister, I imagine, misses you terribly."
Elsa could scarcely process what was being said to her. "B-but. I don't have that kind of control—"
"Ah, but that's where Frost comes in. You have a sort of lesson plan with him, no? Continue it. Get to the point where you think you can control them enough for the transfer—then come to me and be relieved. No harm done. He's such a nonconformist—I doubt he would be able to stick to a tutoring regimen for long anyhow." Elsa shook her head, struggling to process the information. She…she could be cured.
"I…I don't know—"
"Think about it. Whatever you decide, your meeting with Frost tomorrow needs to happen. I'll stop by another time for your reply." He made his way to the curtain he had hidden behind earlier. "Best not tell him of this—he won't teach you if he's aware you're only learning to rid yourself of the curse—if that is what you're doing. He's an insufferably prideful spirit." The gray man slipped behind the hanging, and there was quiet. Rising from her bed, Elsa walked over to it, peeking around. As suspected, no one was there. A new wave of coldness swept over the room, and she clutched at her heart.
Was this opportunity knocking…or something more sinister?
