Disclaimer: I own nothing related to the Frozen universe including, but not limited to, characters, names of places, lyrics, dialogue, or any other piece of product. Disney retains all the rights to this universe. I am making no money or receiving any kind of compensation, material or non-material, for this fiction. It's all for fun. Please don't sue me. I do claim the writing, the idea behind this particular narrative, and any peripheral characters or locations created to augment Disney's work.

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A/N: Anyone still reading this? NO!? That sounds about right. Whoops.

….

She should not have been surprised by his efficiency - knew that militaristic precision was how he had become Captain - but when she opens her chamber's doors to find him waiting well before dawn she startled. It could have just been the nerves, the lack of sleep, the fact that her entire mind was rattling with the words of the treaty that she had poured over again and again only to find herself increasingly trapped by its terms. It could be that, or it could be that the very sight of him took her breath.

He wore plain clothes, not his usual guardsman garb, just as she was dressed in the borrowed common outfit he'd brought her before beneath her heavy cloak instead of her regular regal gowns. Unlike her however, she can see in the lantern light that his clothes were well worn but fitted to him unlike her borrowed attire. She realized then that these were his clothes, that this was what he wore in the odd hours he was not on duty. Because he wasn't just Captain Falk, he was also Nikolas. The two could exist apart from each other and she envies him for that. She would never be able to just be Elsa. She would never be able to shrug out of her title the way he did his uniform.

She had no choice.

She never would.

A tremble rattles through her as she tries to keep ice from climbing out beneath her feet.

Mentally she rebuked herself. She was being selfish. There was a price to paid for the privilege of being queen. It was a price many had paid before her and she would not fail them. She would do what was needed of her to keep her people safe, to keep Anna safe.

She did not have a choice, but he did.

Of course he did. She feels the heat of embarrassment warm the tips of her ears that this would be any kind of revelation. He had civilian clothes, experienced moments outside of the palace at regular intervals. Of course he would. He existed outside of the palace, beyond the walls and rules and birthrights. She, however, did not, could not. She was a queen and queens only existed in castles.

They died in castles.

Elsa had a fleeting thought to wonder if queens, while living in the castle, ever truly got to experience life. If she would ever get to know something beyond the crushing weight of responsibility. If it could be possible. If she could possibly have some other fate besides falling on the sword of her own kingdom day in and day out until it finally killed her.

She wondered what it would be like to run away with him.

She thought of the North Mountain.

His head tilts just so, brow furrowed. "Is everything well, My Queen?"

The air had gone frosty. She could see their breath. Worse she had been staring at him as if she had the right to - as if she did not know how he tasted - and now he was staring back at her as a man and -

She jerks a nod. "Yes, of course.'

Her voice, never as smooth and lilting as Anna's, was even rougher than normal as if she were choking on her own words. The harshness of it seemed to signal his misstep. In an instant the man was gone, and despite his attire, the guard returned.

He mirrored her nod as if to punctuate the shift and stepped to the side to let her pass. She did and started down the hall towards the grand entrance that would lead them to the main gate until a hand caught her arm. His hand. Warmth skittered through her blood but she fought it down. Hadn't they just reestablished the order of things? Her nerves were worn too thin for the rapid shifting of temperatures.

She turned to meet his gaze with as much regality as she could muster, heart constricting. His hand dropped.

"A thousand pardons, My Queen." He ducked his head and she can feel frost forming at her fingertips at his formality. She pushed back the ice she felt itching beneath her skin at the knowledge that she had set this tone, that this was how it should be, would be from now on, that whatever had passed between them was to be pushed aside.

She was his queen, but she was not his.

He kept his eyes lowered as he spoke. "The front way will no doubt be watched. If I may advise My Queen that she may desire a more surreptitious exit?"

She thought of the gate opening. She thought of keeping it closed. She remembered something from the past, understood the where his question was leading her.

"The passages beneath the fjord." Her father had shown the maze of tunnels to her once during one of the times he had tried to explain to a child the enormity of the weight of the crown, explaining to a child that there were people who would want her dead. "Are they safe?"

"Safer than taking you through those gates, My Queen." He says and she knew he was right.

Going through the front was as sure of a way to ruin this endeavor as never starting it. She wished now she had paid more attention to the missives sent from the regent counsel. She wished she had kept up with the maintenance reports. Her mind raced to remember if she had ever read anything about the upkeep of the tunnels built to protect her.

She cannot remember.

Her thoughts are too gone, too scattered, to recall ancient history.

There was risk both ways, but she looks at Capitan Falk and knows he would not suggest anything that may bring her to harm. Even without his guardsman uniform she knew he would protect her, would keep her safe, would do anything -

She shook her head. Thoughts like that were dangerous and she would have no part in them.

"Let us go then." She squares her shoulders. "We do not have much time."

He led.

She followed.

Neither of them shut her door.

…..

He made his way across the fjord. The water froze beneath his feet. The cover of night was his friend. His heart beat louder with each step.

This was how Arendelle met it end.

Not with a fight, but with a whimper.

…..

"This is going to work," Kristoff petted Sven's neck absently. "This is going to work."

The sleigh mount was already hitched to his friend and ready to go, just waiting for a royal arrival. He'd check the fasteners a dozen times, still worried over the main joint between reindeer and sled but not overly so. It had not given out yet, why would it now?

"This is going to work. The harbor master has no log of ships leaving today. Anna is still here. She is still here. She has to still be here. Right?"

He was just talking at this point, spewing words that may or may not mean anything under his breath. Sven nudges Kristoff with his nose. Kristoff shoved him back.

"Yeah. Yeah. You're right. One thing at a time. One thing at a time." He shoved his friend's nose back. "We should get some sleep. Just till it is time. Just till Elsa gets here."

He was telling himself more than he was telling Sven. His knees buckled and he slid down the stall wall into the hay. Exhaustion and the familiar scent lulled him.

"Just a minute. Just a few minutes." He murmured - his body overcoming him with the need for rest.

Sven nuzzled his cheek but Kristoff was already snoring.

….

By the time the nail came loose her fingertips were bloody. Her fingernails were torn to hell. Her arm shook. Her body ached, but she had done it. She had done it all by herself and she had to hold back the cry that built in her chest at the notion. She didn't know exactly how long it had taken her to pry the nail loose from the floorboard but she had done it and now she had another short moment to use it for its intended purpose.

Carefully, slowly, she drew her arm from it sling. It hurt still - not quite whole even with Grand Pabbie's magic - but much better than it should be all things considered. She would settle having two hands to work the nail in the lock on the other side of the cell door.

For now, she would settle for freedom.

….

The tunnels were as dark and dank as she remembered with an eerie damp that seeped into her bones. The lantern he carried cast strange shadows and she has to be careful not to catch her shoes on the slick, uneven stones.

She did not need him saving her again from a fall.

She did not need him saving her ever.

She was queen and she would save herself.

He walked two paces ahead of her and she tried to not consider the difference of his silhouette out of the stiff guardsman uniform. She tired to not notice the firm line of his shoulders, the athletic cut of his waist, but there it was beneath the thin fabric. The lean shape of his body was there, and she was there, and she wanted. She needed.

She would not.

She did not.

She did.

Her mind skated close to dangerous territory, unwilling to consider the harder things that led them to this point. To notice him, his proximity, was easier than remembering the treaty on her desk and its malicious intents. To consider him, the way he walked, was easier than knowing that her sister was in danger because of choices she had made. Her sister could die for reasons Elsa could have prevented. Elsa remembered the few moments on the ice, her arms thrown around her sister's blue body, and she knew she was just as much to blame for her sister's peril now as she was when Anna had frozen through to her core.

A drop of water hit her face, a reminder than an entire ocean waited above to swallow them whole, and she grunted. He turned to check on her, gray eyes concerned in the lamp light. She wiped it away with her sleeve and waved him on.

"It's nothing. Keep going." The words are bitter on her tongue when all she wants is to tell him to stay close, to never look away.

"Yes, My Queen." He turned resolutely on his heel and marched. His posture was all guard and so she would be all queen.

She followed, hurting with each step and ignoring it because what right had she to pain? She was a queen and queens felt no pain. Queens fought. Queens protected their kingdom, their crown.

Queens did not fall in love.

Queens did not need.

Queens fought - and fight she would.

She would save Arendelle.

She would save Anna.

No matter what the cost.

….

She was sweating..

She had sweated before. She hoped she would sweat again but perhaps not this soon, not this way. The droplets made her shorn hair stick to her neck, her spine was slick, as the nail end rattled in the lock.

She didn't know the first thing about how locks worked, but she knew that they took keys and that sometimes she had been able to unlock doors she had not been supposed to (her father's study, her sister's room) but they were shut quickly afterwards. She didn't mind that detail. She didn't need the cell door open for long.

She just hoped whatever they had planned that it was not too late.

She hoped she had not let down her sister once again.

…..

The tunnels had many different routes but only one led to an exit. This safeguard was as much to keep people out as it was to keep the correct ones in. Elsa did not know the way but it seemed that Captain Falk did. He took them at a sure pace never faltering at any turn until they arrived at a circular stone stairway slick with moss.

He ascended before she did a step at a time, carefully. When he was half way up the slimey stairs he reached back and extended his hand. She looked at it with wide eyes but made no move to take it.

"These stairs are unforgiving, My Queen, please."

He wasn't wearing gloves. She'd never seen his bare hands before this night. His hands were broad and square, long fingers blunted at the tips and strong. The shape and size of them, wide palms scored with deep valleys, were so unlike hers and she thought this moment could have poetry in it if only it were lit a different way.

If only her hands were not her greatest enemy.

She clenched her hands at her sides, nails digging into soft skin because she had not worn gloves either. All of hers had been too fine to be matched with the coarse garment she donned so she had omitted them, never considering she would have a reason to touch anything, anyone.

It had been a foolish mistake.

Now she stood frightened of how much she wanted to press her palm against his, could hardly trust herself to. She could hurt him, but she knew just how much this could hurt her in return.

Pain, it seemed, liked to have a balance.

She reached out.

His fingers clamped around hers, firm and sure. She stood for a moment transfixed by the sight and sensation of it all, knowing that this could never happen again after this night. That this warmth shooting up her arm, out through her core, would be forbidden to her - already was. Her heart sped, breath caught, and it was too much. The magic in her blood screamed - fighting to escape.

She was back on the fjord holding Anna's frozen body and -

Monster -

She snatched her hand from his, blood pounding in her ears as the faintest of flurries began to fall. She knew she should meet his eyes, that a queen would not shrink from his questioning gaze, but she did not.

"I think -" She twisted her hands together as if that would help erase the feel of his skin against hers. "I think I will manage on my own quite well. Thank you."

She would have to, because after this night she would be oh so very alone and it would be all her own doing.

….

He did not go to the ship. His plan no longer concerned the Southern Isles fools. They were short sighted, only considering what was right in front of them. They did not know true power, what it meant to harness it.

He smiled as his feet reached solid ground.

He would show them.

He would show them all.

…..

The streets of Arendelle were still quiet. It would be an hour yet before the townspeople begun to stir. It was eerie in a way - as if they were in a place out of time as they crept through the back allies by the docks. The only sounds were their footsteps, the rustling of clothes, their breath. A heaviness hung in the air all around them, like the weight of an approaching storm, deadening the few noises they did make till it was like they were hardly there at all.

Elsa wished it could be so easy to just disappear, but it wasn't. She knew that. She had tried.

They were side by side now, had been ever since they made it above ground and out of the tunnels into a back passageway near the docks, though they had not said a word. One misstep, one wobble at the proper angle, and their arms would brush. Even though clothing she knew it would be overwhelming, but still she could bring herself to draw away - to step ahead or fall behind.

It seemed that neither could he.

Thus was the strange mix of proper and improper that seemed everything in their relationship was. Somehow in the last several days it had become their baseline. She cannot pinpoint exactly where it all went off the rails, but she knew that there could be no questions that it needed to get back on track.

There could be no hint of impropriety once she was married.

She sucked a deep breath, pressing down the pain that the very thought brought to her bones.

The air was full of salt. If there had been a breeze she would have tasted it on her lips, but the air was stagnant. Heat built beneath her hood but she did not dare remove it. Even if there was no one in the alleys where they walked that did not mean no one was watching.

That did not mean they were alone.

She wondered if she would ever feel anything other than being alone.

She thought of the treaty and knew the answer.

And even though it was foolish, even though it broke her heart, she walked just a bit closer to Nikolas after that.

….

Arendelle was a place of hidden things, secrets. It was full of energy, magic. For too long it had been locked away. For too long it had been forgotten. It's proud past and heritage had been shuttered and barred, but no more.

This was his birthright. He would resurrect the tradition of the grand kings of old just as his blood called him to do. He would set right what his father and grandfathers before him had failed to do. He would be Arendelle's master.

He would be the world's savoir.

He just wished his ungrateful brother was still alive to see it.

But revelling would come later. First he had to retrieve what he had come for. With that he set a sharp pace towards the base of the north mountain.

….

Kristoff woke at the first sounds of footsteps. Every muscle in his body ached and his left eye was swollen completely shut now. He wasn't sure how long he had been asleep, but he knew it wasn't long enough. He could have slept for years but he wouldn't. Anna needed him, he her, and that alone was enough to pull him from the grave.

He rubbed his good eye and sat up just as two figures came up in lantern light. It took him a moment to place the man with his hard gray eyes as the guard that had no only given him the knot on the back of his head, but also had been kissing Elsa. The guard who had challenged him on the castle walk. The one who had dared insinuate that Anna was anything but his and he stood a bit straighter. It did not take much to put together who stood beneath the cloak beside him.

Kristoff pushed up to stand, legs protesting. He could feel bits of straw clinging to his hair as he ran his hand through it. They were already in the larger mounting section of the stables, Sven hitched and ready. The boy had been accommodating enough once Kristoff had told him that they would be gone by morning and still pay the extra day. Whoever his master was seemed to have no problem with it either since Kristoff hadn't seen hide nor hair of the man since his arrival.

He didn't bother with preliminaries, knew Elsa would appreciate that.

"I need ice blocks like the ones I sell." His tongue feels a bit thick in his mouth. He needed a drink. "Enough to fill the bed of my sleigh."

There was a pause. Sven shifted hooves, and he began to feel uneased. What if this wasn't Elsa? What if he had misread the situation and these people had no idea what he was about? He was about to babble some sort of nonsense when two thin, pale hands emerged from the dark cloak. Frost sparked from the fingertips and grew to a undulating beam focused around him to the bed of his sleigh.

In moments the whole of it was stacked so full of ice blocks he wondered if Sven could pull them all. He looked around himself. It had happened so quickly it felt as though surely he had missed something, that something else should be there, but no. There are no leftover flakes, no lingering icicles hanging from the stable rafters. Her precision was as astonishing as the result.

It was only when he blew out an impressed breath that he realized the temperature had dropped enough to see his breath.

What he wouldn't give to be able to -

"What else do you need of me?" Elsa's voice interrupted his thoughts and his mind scrambled.

"Uh - no. That's it. That's all." His mind was still waking up. "Will it melt?"

"If I want it to." It is too matter-of-fact to be ominous.

He scrubbed the back of his neck with his hand, eyes going between the guard and the black shadow where he knows Elsa's face was.

"Then - that's all."

Sven pawed at the ground. The air turned, frost emerging.

"That's all? You intend to find my sister with blocks of ice?" The edge was there in her voice now, designed to cut. He's heard it before and braced.

"It's what I know best." He held up his hands in surrender. "It's what you know best, too." He took a deep breath. "You want to know how I'm going to use it to find Anna or not?"

….

Anna's body was giving out. She could feel it. Both of her arms throbbed from being bent at angles unaccustomed in attempts to undo the lock, especially the one so incompletely healed. It was only a matter of time, she knew, before it would be entirely useless. She could hardly support it as it was. Much longer and it would be as useless a lead weight.

Except if she had a lead weigh maybe she could smash the lock.

But she didn't, so she couldn't, and the frustration rose with each painful moment. Scalding heat built behind her eyes, in the back of her throat. This wasn't working. This was impossible.

It seems to me that most impossible things exist to remind us that nothing really is.

Her father's voice returned to her, whispering warm in her ear.

She was about to find out just what impossible meant.

….

She listened while Kristoff spoke, his words simple and few, but his plan made sense. She realized that she had not come out here thinking she would find reason from an iceman, that she had come for some reason to discount him. To find someone who actually had some semblance of strategy, some cohesive plot to discover her sister was a surprise. So she listened and when he finished she stood silent for a moment to collect her thoughts.

She wanted to believe, needed to, but still:

"You swear on your life that this ice is to be used in service of the Crown of Arendelle and for no other?" Sweat trickles down the nape of her neck, but she kept the hood in place. Dawn crept dangerously near.

"This ice will be used in the service of Anna." Kristoff stood taller in that moment, shoulders broad and pulled back and Elsa knew Anna would never find a better man - a stronger man to protect her. "I can harvest ice on my own - have always done it on my own - but now… Elsa," whatever height he had gained before falls on her name. "There is no time. I can't go north now when Anna needs me here - now... There is just no time. I can't."

It was like he was pulling the words from her own mind and she understood. She knew what it meant to want, to need, to love, but she was queen. What was barred to her did not have to be barred to Anna. This was what she could give her sister. She could give her love. She could give her the life and freedom she had always wanted but had never been able to have, but not if she stayed here. Not if she stayed with her.

Elsa's throat tightened, she could feel a storm brewing but she pushed it down. She stepped towards the hulking mountain man and pulled her hood back just far enough that he could see her face - that she could see his. Even in his battered state, Elsa could see his kindness. She could see his earnest spirit. She would trust that.

She would have to.

"Kristoff," she had hardly called him his give name, almost tripped over it. "If you -" she shook her head, "when you find Anna - you must take her far from Arendelle. She cannot return. She cannot come back for any reason. And - " She held his gaze, throat working furiously. She had not yet said this allowed in any context, can hardly yet believe she was saying it, yet she does. This was how she would keep Anna safe. "If she'll have you - you must marry her."

….

A/N:

OH HEY wanna know a fun reason to never update a story? Try to learn how to write sober. It is a TRIP.

Yeah okay so that break in writing sucked and I cannot promise it getting better but I can promise that I am trying really hard to not be such a screw up and I am trying really hard to be better about life and living it and okay there is no excuse Imma just go now BYE