"Wakey, wakey, angel…"
The girl opened her eyes. Staring back at her was a human skull. Or rather, a human skill with sunken, glassy eyeballs, greasy hair, and a thin layer of skin stretched over it. She tried to scream, but her voice came out muffled. Something was covering her mouth – something cold and moist. And whatever it was, it was over her limbs and neck too, locking them in place. She couldn't so much as turn her head.
"Remember me? I hope you do, 'cause I know I remember you…"
In the dimness, the figure before her almost looked like a skeleton wrapped in a tattered cloak. She wanted to say it was human, but it was hard to tell for sure in the dimness. The only light source came from a circular opening in the wall a few feet away. Was this a cave?
It didn't matter. She had to focus on breathing through her nose. Focus on- God, what was happening?
"C'mon, I'm the guy from the bar!" The thing brushed its bony black hand across her cheek. A shiver ran down her spine. "I ordered the extra ice."
The waitress did vaguely remember that raspy voice, but she was a bit too distracted to dwell on it. Instead, she focused on flitting her eyes around the cave. She saw hay – Why on earth were there pieces of hay lining the ground? – and, even odder, what appeared to be a picture frame propped up against the side of the cave. It contained a portrait of a beautiful young girl.
"Oh, you like that?" The creature turned his sunken, yellow eyes towards it. "It's great art, but this picture here is of my worst enemy. That's why I killed the guy. Couldn't stand seeing him paint such an amazing portrait of my worst enemy, now could I?" The creature smiled, his lips stretched thin, as if he was recalling a fond memory. "Of course, she won't be a problem much longer. It's already started. You can see the smoke from outside." He gestured lazily in the direction of the opening. "But of course, you must be wondering why I chose you."
The girl wasn't listening. She was too busy staring at another, more striking, feature of the cave – skeletons. Countless skeletons littering the floor. Some were human, some were animal, and some weren't even whole, just piles of scattered bones.
"Well, if you must know, it's because I find you a little on the chubby side."
Pure white bones.
"Just the way I like 'em."
The mob stood motionless in the courtyard, torches burning wastefully. To be honest, they'd been expecting at least a little resistance from the legendary Snow Queen. Most of them had heard about Prince Hans's raid on the Ice Palace, and they were feeling a bit let down by the hype.
The men turned to the Admiral.
"Looks like we found her Achilles' heel." He held his own blazing torch aloft and bellowed, "After her, men! After the monster that trapped us in eternal winter!"
There was a frenzied roar from the crowd.
"Yeah! And she raised taxes!"
"Kill the beast! Kill the beast!"
"Have you heard what they say she's been doing with her sister? Let's burn the floozy!"
A flood of bodies stormed after the queen's trail.
The children, snowman, and butler had ended up huddled in the castle dungeon, safe behind its iron doors. The prison where Hans had once trapped Elsa had now become a haven. And since it was made of cold stone, the dungeon was safe from the inferno rapidly spreading across the upper levels of the castle.
The inferno. Anders moaned at the memory. He'd seen it while guiding the children down here – an endless sea of fire spilling over carpets, wallpaper, and everything else flammable. Most of that stuff had been there since Anders was a boy, and just the thought of losing it-
What was wrong with him? There were people in there! The staff had to have been caught completely off guard. Anders thanked God the children hadn't passed any on their way down. The flames alone had been enough to send them into hysterics. Anders could hardly bring himself to look at their faces.
And the snowman, of course, was running his mouth incessantly. It figured that in the midst of everything, fate would still conspire to trap Anders with that intolerable-
But then Anders caught the words Olaf was saying: "Shh, hey, it's alright, guys. We are, like, really safe down here." He was the only one – the only one – keeping a level head, and not only that, but Olaf was trying his hardest to calm the children down, too, dishing out soothing words and warm hugs at a rapid rate.
Anders's chest clenched.
"But they're gonna kill the queen!" one of the older children choked out.
"Ha! No way!" said Olaf. "Elsa's way tougher than them. This one time, she threw me and my buddies off a mountain by making this ginormous snow monster!"
"Wow! She can make snow monsters?"
"Sure can! In fact, I'm actually part snow monster myself."
Anders shut his eyes. Olaf had stepped out of a whole different world – one where young children never had to flee angry mobs or escape burning buildings, and little girls didn't have to see their parents sail away and never come back home.
Anders, there was a storm at sea, it's been weeks, they should've been back by now.
He'd been reading a novel in his favorite armchair. A completely ordinary night. He'd never forget that.
What do we tell the girls? Kai asked the inside of Anders's head for the five billionth time in the last three years.
Olaf's words had gone a long way towards calming the children, but at least one suddenly resumed bawling loudly.
"Hey, it's okay, I've got you," said Olaf, wrapping the little girl in his stick arms. "There's nothing to cry about."
"Buh- Buh- But-" The toddler pointed a shaking arm towards the corner of the room. "Even the grown-up is crying!"
Anders quickly turned his head away. How could he have let them see? So selfish. He was so selfish. All Anders wanted to do was forget any of this was happening, but a second later he was yanked back into reality by a gentle tug on his pants leg.
"Hey, Anders, you okay?" Olaf's oversized snow-front-tooth jutted out from beneath a frown.
"No, I'm not okay!" Anders snapped, burying his eyes in his hand. "Elsa's not going to save us. She's terrified of fire! I saw her run away screaming!"
A wave of horror crashed over every child in the dungeon. But not Olaf.
"It's part of her cunning trick!" he immediately said. "She's waiting until she catches them off guard and then bam! Giant snow monster!" Most of the children seemed to buy this and calmed back down.
Anders found his face contorting against his will. "It's all my fault. I was too hard on her. I knew Elsa was afraid of heat, but instead of trying to comfort her… all I did was cut her down. How could I be so horrible?"
A stick poked his thigh. This was Olaf trying to pat Anders on the back but being unable to reach quite that high.
"You're not horrible," said Olaf, matter-of-fact. "You're a great guy. In fact, you're my new best friend, remember?"
"How can you say that?" said Anders, his shoulders heaving. "I've been the most horrible to you."
"I know, but I don't mind." Olaf smiled at him. "I can tell you're a good person. You've just got a funny way of showing it."
It was at this that Anders really lost it. He fell to his knees and sobbed like he hadn't sobbed in three years.
"What's wrong?"
"I cuh-cah-can't do it again. I cuh-cah-can't bury another one."
Olaf happened to be a snowman of very little brain, meaning when confronted with an unfamiliar situation, he defaulted to his old standby:
"Y'know what you need? A warm hug!"
"Yes... I would like one."
During the years of isolation, the castle hallways had been a constant comfort to Elsa. They were reminders of times long past – of sliding down stair railings, mimicking the poses of the people in the paintings, skidding across the wood floor in stockings… Calm. Familiar.
But now it was all dyed an alien, orange hue.
Elsa tore through the corridors. She felt like an observer in her own head, and no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't collect herself. All she could think about was the smoke in her nostrils and the heat on her face. How could she have ever thought the sunshine was hot just a few minutes ago?
Wait, minutes? No, it had to have been hours…
Elsa felt dizzy. Her surroundings were so charred and black that she couldn't even tell where she was anymore. Doing her best to tune out the constant crackling noise, Elsa darted her eyes around. Had to see where she was, had to find a landmark…
The paintings! She must have been in the gallery, then, though the portraits were barely recognizable at this point. The ones not still blazing were ash by now. And all Elsa could think was, Anna loved those.
And then Elsa saw them. Eyes. Staring right at her. In the middle of the blazing canvases, one portrait was miraculously untouched. Joan of Arc stared at Elsa from the back of her horse. She looked disappointed.
Elsa fled the room.
She didn't know where she was going – ignore the crackling noise, ignore the sound of yelling men from the other room – and Elsa hardly even noticed as her legs took her up a flight of stairs. Of course, going upstairs during a fire wasn't her greatest idea ever, but not even the most basic fire safety rules drilled into her as a girl were sticking right now.
Elsa's feet screamed in protest. Walking in heels was one thing, but running in them was a whole different story. Hardly aware of what she was doing, Elsa dashed for the first door at the top of the stairs, flung herself inside, and locked it behind her.
No fire in here. Elsa hit the carpet and curled into the fetal position. The crackling was gone, but it was replaced with a horrible gasping noise. It took Elsa a second to realize it was coming from herself.
Focus on breathing. Even before sucking in all that smoke, Elsa had been dimly aware that she was breathing all wrong – a rapid contortion of her chest that made her inhale and exhale too deeply and too often. Elsa waited for her breathing to slow. It never did. So stupid. She could control her ice, but she couldn't control her own lungs?
Don't just lie there! scolded a tiny, distant voice in Elsa's head. Move! But Elsa was having trouble getting her legs to work. So now she couldn't even run away again. And, oh, how badly she wanted to run away again. Elsa wanted to bolt across the harbor, her footfalls freezing water as they landed. Wanted to get far away from the castle and the people and the fire.
But most of all she wanted to go back to her Ice Palace. She missed it.
Coward. You still want to run away. Nothing's changed. You're the same little girl who nearly killed Anna.
Elsa forced herself to stop thinking. To take her mind off it, she looked for the first time at her surroundings. The room was barren, containing nothing but wallpaper. Not even any furniture.
Oh. Elsa knew where she was now. Her original bedroom. Old habits die hard.
You're still not breathing right.
Visually, it was unrecognizable. As a child, Elsa had been reduced to memorizing ever minute detail of this room, making the change particularly jarring. She'd ended up hating it so much that she'd ordered her new bedroom to have entirely new furniture. But somehow, this room still felt the same as ever. Despite the fire raging just outside, years of uncontrolled ice-magic had left the room with a permanent chill in its air.
Elsa hadn't been in this room since coronation day. Heck, she'd had half a mind to have the whole thing bricked in. And now she was back. Somehow, wildly, Elsa found this even more upsetting than the fire, and yet she couldn't bring herself out of the fetal position.
Still not breathing right.
Elsa felt like she'd been lying on the ground forever, but time caught up with her when the sound of a thousand footsteps reached her ears from the stairs. This was followed by the sound of one of the doors across the hall being kicked open.
"Not in her bedroom," came a loud, clear voice. "Come out, come out, sorceress! We know you're up here!"
Elsa caught the faint sound of furniture crashing and glass shattering, which must have been from her dresser mirror.
"Maybe she's hiding in the dungeons?" said a different voice. "I saw a buncha kids go down there."
You're breathing too loud. They'll hear you. You're breathing too loud!
"What, you want us to go light the kids on fire? We're not monsters."
Your heartbeat's too loud! They'll hear it!
"Yeah, but that thing is down there, too. The little snow freak she made."
"Good point. It needs to be burned, too."
"Heh. Bet it'll be fun to watch it squirm."
It's okay, Elsa told herself. You can refreeze him. She couldn't believe she'd just thought that. Coward.
I don't think I was being brave or anything. All of a sudden, words were flashing though Elsa's head. I just didn't want you to get hurt… more than I didn't want me to get hurt.
The memory made her smile the tiniest bit. But… maybe it was the chaos of the moment, but Elsa couldn't for the life of her remember who'd said it. Must have been Anna. It sounded like something Anna would say.
Elsa was broken from her thoughts when the voices spoke again:
"Let's check the princess's room."
"What if the princess is in there? What do we do with her?"
"What do you think, you idiot? She's the queen's sister! She's probably a sorceress, too." And then louder, to address the whole mob: "Y'hear that? If we find the princess, we burn her, too!"
The instant the word "too" was out his mouth, the Admiral's torch went out. Every eye in the mob fell on the smoking black stub in his hand.
The thug to the Admiral's immediate left was the first to figure it out. "Oh sh-" Hsss. His own torch extinguished. Then a third torch did likewise. Then a fourth one.
A wave of cold wind swept across the entire room. In fact, it didn't stop there. The entire castle was rocked by the updraft. Like the first few gusts before a hurricane. Every bit of fire in Arendelle castle was extinguished at once.
A hush fell over the crowd. Then, the quiet was broken by the distinct sound, directly behind them, of a high heel stomping against the ground.