Author's Note: Is anyone out there? If you are reading & enjoying [or not enjoying] this story, would you please leave a review? I won't pretend that I don't enjoy writing, but it is always more enjoyable to know that people are following along. The thing I like about fanfiction is that it encourages creativity. (Yesterday, one of my daughters asked me if Olaf ever fell in love! I told her there was a story there.) I would love to know what you're thinking, and whether you think it is interesting enough to continue.

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The group re-entered the castle as the sun was setting over the sea. They left their horses in the stables and entered the great hall for what would surely be a delicious dinner. The food did not disappoint: fresh bacalao with cod, olives, tomatoes, onions, and peppers. The travelers relished the warm dish and each had seconds and thirds. Once they were full, they remained at the table a little longer, enjoying the light conversation and the shadows thrown from the large fireplace.

Anna was the first to stand, offering, "Today was amazing, but I'm exhausted. I'll head upstairs," with a curtsy. She turned to leave, but not before winking at Elsa. The queen, though, missed the meaning behind the gesture, as she had completely forgotten about the incident that morning. Her thoughts were still centered on her parents, the late king and queen. Elsa had replayed some of her favorite memories in her mind during the long ride back to the castle, and the serene smile on her face was the result. She felt calm, at peace, and only a slight pang of emptiness in her stomach reminded her of her loss.

The princes and queen sat in amiable silence, until Andrew yawned and suggested he and Max head upstairs. They gave the queen a bow and practically ran from the hall, as they had done the previous night. Peter began to wonder if they were purposefully trying to leave him and Elsa alone as much as possible, but then pushed the thought from his mind. They could not possibly know of the interest he had in her. They could not know that he longed to speak freely with her, away from the formal customs of their kingdoms. They could not understand his desire to saddle up their horses and ride as far away as possible, if only to enjoy the fresh air and scenery together. They also were unaware of his attempts to understand her fear.

Peter realized that he and Elsa had been sitting at the table in silence for long minutes. He glanced at her, seated directly to his right, and turned his head to look at her more fully. She had a faraway look on her face, and he wondered what was occupying her thoughts so completely.

"Elsa?"

Without moving her head, she turned her eyes toward him.

"May I ask what you're thinking of?"

She nodded, "My father. I am very lucky to have such perfect memories."

"You are. I know he was a great man," he responded.

Elsa smiled at him, then furrowed her eyebrows. She wanted to say something, and was trying to decide how to phrase it. She opened her mouth, then closed it again.

"Peter… I need to apologize for my actions last night. There are times when my emotions are out of my control, and I would never want to hurt anyone."

"You didn't hurt me."

"I know. But I was harsh, and for that I am sorry."

"Elsa, you certainly don't need to apologize. I am the one who shouldn't have been in the tower. I was looking for the gardens and I had given up to return to bed, but then I noticed it was freezing, and I was curious, and I did not mean to scare you or make you uncomfortable," he tried to explain, "but I can't help noticing that you seem to hold things in, the things that you feel. You must know that this isn't wise."

At this, Elsa turned her face toward the fire, away from him. She wondered how he knew her habits, and why he was bringing them up. He was here to apologize for his brother's treachery, and instead he was critiquing her. She stood and crossed to the fireplace, though every muscle in her body wanted to turn and dash from the room. Elsa wrapped her arms around her chest, which made her feel a little more secure.

"Peter, were you already aware that I had control over ice and snow," she asked him, still facing the fire, "before you came to my study last night?"

He nodded, then realized she could not see him. "Yes, Hans brought the news back with him."

Of course he did, Elsa thought to herself. He tried to murder me because of it.

"Having powers like mine… it means that I have to work a little harder than other people… to stay in control. In order to protect everyone around me, I keep things inside. I can assure you, it would be much worse if I did not."

The utter sadness of her situation caused Peter to rise from his chair, cross the room, and stand beside her. He reached to take her hand, then stopped and returned his arm to his side. Conflicted, he decided to ask, "May I take your hand?"

Elsa tore her eyes from the firelight and stared at him in shock. "Why?" she asked.

"I'm not sure. I just want to."

They stood in silence as she appeared to mull over his request, her eyes squinting with the decision.

"I suppose so," she answered finally.

Peter unclenched his left hand from the fist it had been frozen in, and slowly intertwined his fingers with those of her right hand. Her skin was cool to the touch, which he had not expected, but after a moment he felt her grip tighten ever-so-slightly. He looked back up at her eyes, which were clear and bright and so very blue. He smiled at her. She glanced down at their hands, then back up at him, and returned his smile.

"Thank you."

He felt the ice begin to chip away, tiny fragment by fragment.