"How did it happen?" Elsa asked King Ulrik with a mixture of sympathy and dread.

The room to which they had retreated was dominated by a single long table surrounded by a number of high-backed chairs. The king, moving as if by pure habit, had taken the seat at the table's head. Elsa sat at his right hand and Kristoff, still playing the role of bodyguard, leaned against the wall across from her. Ordinarily, he might have been a little annoyed by this arrangement, but he was still too shaken by what he had just seen to worry overly much about such trifles.

The king remained silent for so long that it wasn't even clear that he had heard Elsa's question. She exchanged a concerned glance with Kristoff who simply shook his head, as much at a loss as she was. The lieutenant had continued to accompany them as well, having been given no orders to do otherwise, and now stood by the door. Though he maintained the stiff posture appropriate for a soldier in the presence of his king, something about him nevertheless managed to convey a sense of nervous fidgeting.

All eyes were drawn back to the head of the table by the sound a throat being cleared. King Ulrik did not meet any of their gazes but continued to stare at the polished wooden surface before him. When he spoke, his voice was hoarse and strained.

"All that we really know about what happened comes from one of her handmaidens, and even that is woefully muddled. The poor woman was so distraught by the time she managed to get the queen back to the castle that it took hours of questioning before we were finally able to piece together her story."

• • •

Queen Olavine had set out that morning, as she so often did, with one of her attendants at her side. On this day, Nelli had volunteered to join her queen, for she had felt like getting out of the palace for a while, despite the chill air. Moreover, she always enjoyed helping with this particular errand. So, each carrying a small but weighty sack, they had walked out of the castle gates together.

Despite all best efforts, it had proven difficult to keep the streets and walking paths clear for any extended period of time since the onset of winter. Between recurring new snowfalls and winds that seemed to create and then disperse drifts every other day, it had proven to be a losing battle at best. Still, the snow was little more than ankle-deep at first, and they made reasonably good time, chatting amiably about largely inconsequential topics as they went.

Eventually, however, they had no choice but to venture off the more well-traveled paths where the snow lay considerably thicker. Few people visited the grove toward which they were now headed, at least not on foot at this time of year. Many passed its far side, of course, where its westernmost edge skirted the great north-south highway, but they would have needed to travel far out of their way if they had wanted to approach it from that direction.

The going got somewhat easier once they passed beneath the trees. Despite being bare of leaf, their mighty trunks and intertwined boughs had managed to thwart the snow to a certain extent. Queen Olavine, who came here often, knew the clearest paths that avoided the worst of the tangles and brambles, so even the greedy fingers of the low-hanging branches did not present any real hindrance. They were able to continue their genial conversation with little interruption, at least until they neared the center of the grove.

They knew they were approaching the clearing long before they saw it. The noise reached them first, growing steadily louder as they drew nearer. Eventually, they had little choice but to give up trying to talk to each other. They could barely make themselves heard over the chirping, singing, crying and cawing of the countless birds that had gathered in the trees all about them.

Even during the winter months, there was no shortage of food kept out for birds around the castle. The queen herself made certain of that. Yet for some reason, this massive avian community seemed to prefer gathering here, despite the bare trees and snow-covered ground. Obviously, they had found ways to thrive all across these lands for ages, long before Olavine had even been born. Yet that did not change the fact that she'd always had a soft spot for them all and wanted to do whatever she could to care for them. This was particularly true for the crows. She'd always thought it a shame that such incredibly intelligent creatures should be viewed as little more than pests by the kingdom's farmers and gardeners.

It was true the birds might not need her help to survive the long winters, and even if they had, she could easily have ordered others to look after them instead. But the queen found joy in seeing to this simple task herself. She consider the birds to be her friends and swore that she could tell every single one of them apart from all the rest. Nelli had no idea how that could be possible, but nothing she'd ever seen had given her cause to doubt the claim. Now, having arrived in the clearing, they each opened their bags and set to work.

To keep the seeds from getting lost, they walked backwards, stamping the snow down as best they could before sprinkling their delivery onto the freshly packed surface. They had only managed to take a few steps in this fashion before the bravest of the birds swooped down and began to peck at the delicacies. Each newly cleared section convinced yet more feathered diners to join in the feast. The sight of all the happy birds brought a broad smile to the queen's face.

With so many beaks to feed, it took a while before either of them realized that anything was amiss. While most of the birds were either fluttering down to eat or else perched in their trees waiting, Queen Olavine eventually noticed one solitary crow on the ground near the edge of the clearing, far away from any of its fellows or from the food they were busily sharing. Taking a few steps closer to it, she tossed a handful of seed its way, thinking it was merely shy. Yet it seemed uninterested, instead hopping a sort distance away into the trees before stopping to look back at her.

"Nelli," she called out, "I think something may be wrong over here. This one is acting as though it wants me to follow it."

"'Shall I come with you, Your Majesty?" There was no need to even ask whether the queen planned to accompany the bird.

"No, I don't think that will be necessary. I shouldn't be gone long. Do you think you can manage this hungry bunch on your own?"

"Of course." Nelli paused to watch the queen disappear between the trees before she quickly became distracted again by the insistent haranguing of birds impatiently waiting for their next course to arrive.

Only when her sack was nearly empty did she begin to wonder at Queen Olavine's continued absence. As she upturned the bag to shake out the last of the remaining seed, she stared off into the woods in the direction her mistress had gone. What could possibly be taking her so long? It wasn't like her to wander off before she had finished tending to her feathered friends. And while there had been no recent reports of banditry or other such problems this close to the castle, Nelli nevertheless found herself growing increasingly worried that something untoward might have happened. The queen was no longer a young woman, after all, loath though she might be to acknowledge that fact. So, making up her mind, she set off in pursuit, following the footprints still clearly visible in the snow.

The path she was following wandered little, avoiding knots of thorny brambles and other minor obstacles but always proceeding in a westerly direction. The longer Nelli walked, the more concerned she became. Just how far had the queen gone in pursuit of this crow? What had the bird wanted to show her that would take them both so far from the clearing? She was making her way up a steep slope and the trees were beginning to thin out around her when she finally caught a glimpse of her answer.

Between the trunks, a flicker of movement just beyond the crest of the hill drew her attention. She stopped in her tracks, craning her neck to try and spot again whatever it might have been. Finally, it reappeared. The top of a head poked up into view and, though it was turned away from her, Nelli had no doubt that it belonged to Queen Olavine. She opened her mouth to call out, but stopped when she caught the sound of voices coming from that same direction. Frowning, she strained to make out the words, but the speakers were still too distant for her to hear them clearly. So, with a small sound of exasperation, she resumed her trudge up the snowy embankment.

The straight climb proved too steep, and she was forced to veer off to one side to tackle the ascent. So it was that, when she finally came out of the woods, she was some ways north from where her queen knelt by the side of the road. For indeed, they had both traveled so far that they had come out the far side of the grove onto the highway. As Nelli took a moment to catch her breath following the long walk and tricky climb, she tried to make out what exactly Her Majesty was doing. She appeared to be looking down at something that lay in her lap. A crow, presumably the one that had guided her to this spot, stood right beside her knee, expectantly shifting its gaze between the queen's face and whatever it was she was holding.

Another woman stood in the middle of the road, far enough back from the shoulder that Nelli would not have been able to see her from downslope. She wore a long blue traveling cloak coupled with a tall hat of white fur atop her flaxen hair. Beside her stood a snow-white sled, its panels carved with ornate patterns so intricate, they merged into little more than a blur at this distance. It looked as though the stranger must have halted her travels upon seeing the queen by the side of the road. Now she appeared to be considering Olavine, a thoughtful expression upon her pale face.

Neither of them seemed to have noticed Nelli's arrival. She began to walk along the road toward the two women, but she had barely taken three steps before she saw the traveler take one of her own. The fair-haired woman stooped so that her head was nearly at a level with the queen's. She might have been whispering in her ear or simply leaning in to get a better look at what she was cradling in the folds of her dress. Nelli could not be certain, for Queen Olavine's head was blocking her view.

Then she saw the queen gasp and stiffen, her face momentarily contorted with what looked like exquisite pain.

"Your Majesty!" Nelli cried out, her slow walk suddenly giving way to a much more urgent sprint.

The stranger straightened, took one long look at Nelli, then turned and climbed casually back into her sleigh without so much as a word.

Nelli stumbled, dropped to her knees, and scrambled the final short distance to her queen's side. Concern trumping all thought of propriety, she reached out and turned Olavine to face her. "Your Majesty, are you hurt? Is everything all right?"

The queen blinked blankly at her for a moment. "I'm sorry," she said slowly, "but do I know you? That is, you seem to know me… and yet not. At the very least, you seem unfamiliar with the proper forms of royal address. You should only use 'Your Majesty' when addressing my mother, the queen. I am simply 'Your Highness.' Or Princess Olavine, if you prefer."

Nelli gaped at the queen, then turned to look at the mysterious woman. "Who are you?" she snapped, pushing herself to her feet as she did so. "Who are you, and what did you do to Queen Olavine?"

The pale woman looked at her coldly. "Who I am is of little consequence, for I see no reason to think that we will ever meet again. As for what I've done..." Her eyes slid off Nelli's face to the figure who still knelt on the ground beside her. Though the handmaiden could not be sure, it seemed as if the woman's expression softened.

"I have given her a gift."

"A gift?" Nelli scoffed. "She doesn't remember who I am. She doesn't even rightly remember who she is herself! What sort of a gift is that?"

With a dismissive air, the stranger turned away. "You are too young to understand. Perhaps one day, when you are older, you will see things differently. Perhaps you will not. Either way, it is no concern of mine. I have already tarried here longer than I intended. My business lies elsewhere, and I must be on my way."

"No! You can't leave! You have to put her back. I can't… I can't take her back to the palace like this! You have to undo whatever it is you've done. You have to make her whole again."

"I have to do no such thing."

"I can't let you go!" Nelli exclaimed. "Not until you've put things right!" She took a step toward the sled, unsure what exactly she was about to do, but determined to do whatever she could.

A deep, rumbling growl made her jump. Only then did she bother to look at the animals hitched to the front of the sleigh, and a tiny whimper escaped her throat despite her best efforts to hold it back. An enormous white bear was looking back at her, its teeth bared menacingly.

She tried to swallow, but found that there was no moisture left in her mouth. She wanted to move, but her body seemed unwilling to respond. She couldn't even look away from the fearsome beast. It was as if she'd suddenly been frozen solid.

The blond woman clicked her tongue and gave the reins a flick. With one final snarl, the bear's head swung around. Its powerful legs and those of its companion dug into the snow, and the sleigh began to slowly inch forward..

"No, stop!" Freed from whatever spell had gripped her, Nelli darted forward, reaching out to grab hold of something – the reins, the woman's cloak, the sideboard, anything – and try, however fruitlessly, to prevent her from leaving.

Without warning, the ground beneath her feet shuddered violently. The next thing she knew, her arms were pinwheeling like mad as she tried to remain upright. The whole world seemed to slew drunkenly. She teetered, suspended in a final instant of stability. Then she toppled over, falling full-length onto her back in the middle of the snowy road, Struggling up into a sitting position, she watched as the white sledge sped away. Within seconds, it had descended the south side of the hill and disappeared from sight.

Wondering what had made her lose her balance in such a dramatic fashion, Nelli looked down at her feet… and gasped. To her amazement, a white ridge several meters long and perhaps half a meter high stretched across the road. The top edge curled toward her like the crest of a breaking wave. Clearly, no such feature had been there mere moments before, but the sensations she had felt beneath her feet slowly began to make a terrifying sort of sense.

As she sat there, her mind struggling to understand what had just happened, she realized that there was a soft sobbing coming from somewhere nearby. Climbing to her feet, she made her way shakily over to where Queen Olavine still knelt by the side of the road. Lowering herself to her knees beside her mistress, she placed one hand tentatively upon her back.

"I… I think..." the queen managed to stammer out between sniffles. "I think it's dead."

Nelli lowered her eyes to the queen's lap. There, cradled upon the heavy fabric that stretched between her legs, lay a black crow. Its eyes were closed. The only tiny movements that could be seen were those made by the wind as it buffeted feathers that stuck out in unnatural directions.

The queen's fingers were softly stroking the back of the bird's sleek head, as though the gesture might yet give comfort to a soul that was no longer there. The other crow, the one that had led them there and which had barely moved during the entire encounter, stared at its mate. Perhaps it too had finally realized that not even the wise and kind human, who had helped its fellows so many times in the past, would be able to do anything this time.

"Come, Your Majes-… Your Highness," Nelli said awkwardly, moving her hand to grasp the queen's arm just below the shoulder, then trying to gently tug her to her feet. "We should be getting back to the palace. We have been gone a long time. The king will be worried about you."

To each woman, the title conjured up the image of a different man, but the words had their desired effect nevertheless. Laying the unfortunate bird out of the way by the side of the road, Olavine bowed her head for a moment in silent prayer. Then she allowed her attendant to help her to her feet.

"Goodness, we must have been out here for a long while," she said as she rose. "My legs are stiff from the cold."

"All the more reason to get back to a nice warm fire," Nelli replied, even as she felt her chest constricting with panic at the thought of what the king's reaction would be when he found out what had happened to his wife. The dread mounted within her at such a rapid pace, she had to force her next words out past a painful lump that had suddenly lodged itself in her throat.

"Come along, then. We have a long walk ahead of us."

• • •

Silence claimed the room as King Ulrik finished recounting the tale. The entire time he had been speaking, his eyes had never risen from the table. Now he covered his face with his hands, as though he could somehow hide from the terrible fate that had been visited upon his kingdom and his queen.

"You say you were pursuing this woman," he said at last, forcing himself to look at Elsa. "This Snow Queen, as you called her. You now know my reasons for wanting her captured. Will you tell me yours? Or does Arendelle still remain so attached to its secrets after all these years that it will continue to hide them from everyone?"

Elsa closed her eyes briefly in the smallest concession to the pained grimace that would have truly expressed her feelings. "We have opened our gates," she said carefully, "and the secrets that first closed them have been laid bare for the world to see. We hide no more than you do, keeping private only those matters that are critical to the security of our kingdom."

"And is this such a matter?" Ulrik asked, unable to hide the bitterness in his voice.

"Some might say so. But given the circumstances, I cannot in good conscience keep the particulars from you. Not when we appear to share a common enemy. For you see..." She hesitated. As much as she recognized the strategic advantage that could be gained by a show of trust in a potential ally, so many years of tutelage at her father's elbow still made secrecy come far too easily. What would he have done in this situation? Would he have been willing to take the risk of exposing such potential weakness to a man who was essentially a stranger, even if he was also a king? Would he have even allowed himself to get into such a position in the first place?

Elsa set her shoulders and her resolve. Her father had taught her well and provided a fine example of the compromises a leader was often forced to make for the sake of their people. Yet she was now the ruler of Arendelle. In the end, that meant she had to do what she felt was right, and she would deal with the consequences of those choices as they arose, for better or for worse.

"The Snow Queen has taken my sister, Princess Anna," she declared solemnly. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the lieutenant stiffen at her announcement. For his part, King Ulrik continued to consider her with grave intent.

"What would she want with your sister?"

"She doesn't want Anna at all," Elsa replied. "She wants me."

She then proceeded to explain to the king everything that had happened in the castle courtyard: every word the Snow Queen had said, every move and countermove in their brief duel. He listened intently, reacting very little except to interrupt now and then to ask a question or seek clarification on particular details. When Elsa finished, he leaned back in his chair, fingers steepled before him, and pondered all that he had learned.

"So this woman claims to be the one who gave you your powers," he said. "A gift, she called them. Well, woe be unto anyone who earns her favor, I say." He stared at Elsa curiously. "And yet nothing you have told me explains what she could have done to my dear Olavine. How does control over ice and snow lead to my queen forgetting the lifetime that we have shared together?"

"I do not know what they have to do with one another, Your Majesty, but it appears that the Snow Queen has powers beyond those she demonstrated in Arendelle. I have been told that she can also erase people's memories with… a kiss."

"Told?" Ulrik's brow knitted in irritation. "Who could possibly have told you such a thing?"

"Our head cook, Gerda. She was a friend to my mother since before I was even born, but I only just learned of her adventure on the day we left Arendelle. It seems that she and the palace steward, Kai, had their own encounter with the Snow Queen many long years ago, when they themselves were but children."

For the first time, King Ulrik actually appeared surprised by Elsa's words. "Gerda? Kai?" He rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "Why do those names seem familiar? You say this happened when they were children?"

"Yes, Your Majesty." Puzzled by this reaction, Elsa shot a quick glance a Kristoff, who responded with a confused shrug of his own.

"This encounter of theirs. Did they both meet her together?"

"No. From what they told me, the Snow Queen abducted Kai from the town where they both lived, and Gerda set out in pursuit. I'm not sure she ever actually met the woman her-..."

"Ah!" Ulrik exclaimed, and the faintest hint of a smile played about his lips. "Now I remember! Dear Lord, that was a long time ago. We were so young then. In fact, that was shortly after Olavine and I… That is, after she..." Whatever light had briefly returned to his eyes quickly faded as he once again realized that everything he and his queen had done over that span of years was now lost to her memory.

"Forgive me, King Ulrik," Elsa said delicately, "but Kai and Gerda did not have time to tell us their story in detail before we began our pursuit. Of necessity, they focused mainly on the Snow Queen herself. I had no idea that you had even played a part in what happened back then."

"A small part only, I assure you. You see, young Gerda managed to sneak into the castle one night, guided by one of Olavine's pet crows of all things. She had found a copy of the newspaper announcement that proclaimed the princess was searching for a man to become her prince and, in her youthful desperation, decided that the lad who had won the princess's heart must surely be none other than her Kai. I'm afraid she was terribly disappointed when she made her way to the royal bedchambers and found that it was only me instead.

"But she told us her story, and our hearts went out to her. We bade her stay the night in the palace. Come the morning, we sent her off in one of the royal carriages, with four loyal men to look after her and fine new clothes to keep her warm on her journey."

He frowned darkly. "Not long after she left, Olavine and I set out upon travels of our own. We had been planning them for some time, as a celebration of our good fortune at finding each other. We sailed to the continent and had many fine adventures of our own. Still, though it was nearly a year before we finally returned, we discovered that no sign had made its way back to Kråkeheim of either the carriage or any of the men we had sent with it.

"Naturally, we assumed the worst. There are lawless lands away to the north. We thought that the two soldiers we had sent along would be protection enough, but it seemed we had been sorely mistaken. It grieved us to think that a brave and spirited girl like Gerda had been lost in such a terrible fashion, not to mention those of our subjects who had accompanied her. But by then, there was little that we could do, and other matters more pressing soon drove the whole tragic affair from our minds."

He drew a deep breath, then exhaled heavily. "Still, even after all these years, it is good to know that she found a way to survive, and even managed to rescue her friend in the end. It is a shame that you do not know more of her story, for I would very much like to hear it told properly someday and to meet the man who inspired such a devoted friendship."

Elsa nodded once. "When we return to Arendelle, I will be sure to pass along your request. I suspect that Gerda would very much like to return to express her gratitude in person. Certainly, she and Kai have both earned a lengthy holiday."

"That would be most welcome. I only hope that by then, we will have found a way to restore my Olavine to her right mind. No doubt she would enjoy such a reunion as well… if only she might remember the original meeting."

Just then, there was a knock on the door. King Ulrik gestured at the lieutenant, who turned and opened it. A nervous functionary stood in the passage outside, his posture apologizing for the interruption even before his mouth managed to do the same. "Forgive me, Your Majesty, but… the queen is asking for you."

Hope kindled in the king's eyes. "For me? Specifically? Does that mean she remembers…?"

"I'm afraid not, Your Majesty. She asked only for..." He cleared his throat awkwardly. "...for that nice old man who keeps coming to visit her."

King Ulrik visibly deflated. "Very well. I will be right there." As he rose to his feet, Elsa did likewise in a show of respect. Kristoff pushed himself away from the wall to stand fully upright, clasping his hands together behind his back.

"Pardon the interruption," Ulrik said to Elsa. "I shan't be gone long. In the meantime, if there is anything you need – food, drink, or what have you – do not hesitate to ask. Someone will see to it immediately." With a curt bow, he strode swiftly through the room, passed through the doorway, and disappeared down the hall.

Elsa remained standing for a long while, staring at the empty doorway. She finally turned away, but she did not return to her seat. Instead, she walked around the table and came to a halt directly in front of Kristoff. Leaning in closely so that only he could hear, she whispered, "Well, what do you think?"

"What do I think? About what?"

She glanced quickly toward the door again, where the lieutenant still stood, eying them both warily. "Do you think that Grandpabbie might be able to help Queen Olavine?"

Kristoff blinked, his mind racing. It had never occurred to him that anyone might look to him to help solve a foreign kingdom's problems. "Um... I don't know. Maybe. Like I said before, I don't really understand that much about how his magic works."

"Well, when we went to ask him about getting Anna's memories back, he said that it was easier to restore erased memories than altered ones, right? It sounds like the queen was simply made to forget decades of her life, so there might be a chance that he could restore those memories. Does that seem possible?"

Kristoff scratched his chin, then shrugged. "I really can't say. We're talking about an awful lot of memories. I don't think Grandpabbie has ever tried anything that complicated before. Maybe he can, and maybe he can't. Even if you actually asked him directly, I'm not sure he'd know for sure until he tried."

"But would he be willing to try? If we did ask him to help her, do you think he would?"

Kristoff only had to consider the question for a second before he nodded. "Yeah, I think so. But Elsa, we can't afford to go all the way back there now! We've already lost precious time. I feel for King Ulrik, I really do, but we have to think about Anna. If that's what the Snow Queen is capable of, if she can do that to Queen Olavine that easily, then… then..." He swallowed, unable to complete the thought.

"I know." She reached up and placed a reassuring hand upon his shoulder. "And I agree, we can't go back ourselves. But that means we'll have to give them directions to the valley instead. Would that be a problem?"

Now he looked uncertain, and his answer came out slowly at first, as if he didn't know what each word was going to be until he said it. "Grandpabbie always said that they weren't really hiding up there in the mountains. Trolls simply prefer to keep to themselves and not get wrapped up in other people's business. They just so happen to have a history with the rulers of Arendelle, who gave that valley over to them a long time ago. They still feel a deep obligation to try and return that favor when needed. But a stranger from a distant kingdom…?"

"They will still be doing a favor for the Queen of Arendelle," Elsa replied, quietly but firmly.

"I know, it's just… Trolls have long lives and long memories. They pass on tales that have been retold through so many generations, even they aren't sure how old some of them are anymore. But they never forget them, and they remember that humans weren't always so friendly to their kind. There was a reason why they needed a new place to settle way back when. They had been driven out of their ancestral homelands by a war that shouldn't even have involved them, and they were forced to flee to the south to avoid what could have been an even greater tragedy.

"That's why, even to this day, the trolls have little love for soldiers, and… Well, you've seen the state King Ulrik's in right now. He's put his entire kingdom on alert, ordering his men to stop any travelers on the road that even look like the Snow Queen. And if our friend there is any indication," he grumbled, jerking his chin in the lieutenant's direction, "they aren't exactly the most restrained bunch either. If the king marches into the valley escorted by armed guards and all that..." He shuddered and shook his head.

"What if it was just a small party? Minimal escort along the road, with the king and queen entering the valley by themselves. Please, Kristoff! We can't just leave Queen Olavine like this. If there's anything we can do to help, we have to try." When he continued to hesitate, Elsa played her final card.

"If it was Anna, wouldn't you want someone to do the same for her?"

Kristoff sighed, but nodded. "Fine. Yes, that will probably work. We might also want to consider writing a letter that he can present once they get there, so that Grandpabbie will know we really were the ones who sent him."

"Good idea. I can do that."

"Might be better if I wrote it."

"Why?" Elsa asked in surprise. "I know I haven't been queen all that long, but I've already had to write more than my fair share of such things. Even an actual recommendation letter or two, I think, though it's honestly hard to keep track of all the paperwork sometimes. Anyway, I'm quite certain that I could..."

"Can you write in troll runes?"

"Um… no. But surely he knows how to read..."

"Does Grandpabbie recognize your handwriting from the years he spent teaching you to write troll runes?"

"Oh. Well, no, I suppose he doesn't."

Kristoff crossed his arms, looking ever-so-slightly smug. Then, almost as an afterthought, he added, "You can sign it, if you'd like." The small smile that accompanied his offer was simply too much for Elsa. Lifting one finger, she thrust it right up under his nose and was just about to tell him that it wasn't too late for her to change her mind and order him to accompany King Ulrik back to Arendelle, but she did not get the chance. King Ulrik chose that precise moment to reenter the room.

"My apologies," he said, his voice leaden. His face, if it was possible, was more despondent than ever. "I'm afraid this whole business might be even more confusing for the queen than it is for the rest of us. After all, when she looks around, she finds herself surrounded by the faces of strangers. Few of those she remembers are still here, and even those are barely recognizable after all these years. And then, when she looks at her own hands…"

He shook his head sadly. "We've taken to telling her that she's been ill, that the changes are merely a symptom of her disease, and that she'll get better soon. It has the advantage of not being too far from the truth, I hope. Even so, I've had all mirrors removed or covered. I fear it would simply be too much for her if she were to see her own face. As far as she knows, she's still a young girl and..."

He broke off again, and this time, both his words and his stride were interrupted. He hadn't even managed to make it halfway across the room, but now he simply stood there, looking woefully lost, as if he'd forgotten not only what he'd been saying but why he had even come into the room at all. He was clearly struggling, uncertain what he ought to be doing or even what he should be feeling. The wife he had loved was gone, and yet she still lived. He could not properly grieve or mourn for her, yet neither could he pretend to go about his business as if nothing had changed. Elsa thought he seemed almost like a ghost, trapped between this life and the next, too frightened to give himself wholly over to either.

Glancing up at Kristoff, who nodded his encouragement, she stepped forward. Placing her hands lightly atop one of the chair backs in front of her, she addressed Ulrik across the breadth of the table.

"Your Majesty," she said, trying to imbue her voice with something like reassuring confidence. Slowly, he turned to look at her, his haunted eyes clearly seeking answers that he had not been able to find anywhere else. Fighting not to let his pain drown her as well, she reached back into her own memories – not of her father this time, but of her mother and the caring compassion that always seemed to flow from her like warmth from a fire. Hoping there was some bit of that inside her as well, she tried to concentrate as much of it as she could into her smile.

"Your Majesty," she said again, "I think we might be able to help."

A/N: I was partway through Chapter 15 when my writer's block hit. However, I was able to bring that chapter to completion this past week, so there's at least one more weekly update still to come. Beyond that, we'll just have to wait and see.