21. In the Shadow of the Mountain King

[Last time on Living Flower: Anna has become cold and distant towards Elsa, driving a rift into their friendship. Nothing Elsa can do can penetrate the layer of ice around Anna's heart, driving her to despair and depression.]

Elsa found herself wandering through the royal family's private garden, a book in her hand. She was intending to find one of her favourite benches and sit and read in quiet, somewhere there was no chance of encountering anyone—especially Anna. The maid had, if anything, become even more cold and bitter, and Elsa found it less painful to just not talk to her any more. Less painful, she thought to herself—not not painful. Every moment she was with Anna, she had wanted to hug her, hold her, let her know just how sorry she was for killing her father. And every morning she would wake up, hoping against hope that Anna had forgiven her. Or was even talking to her. But it was not to be. Tomorrow Anna would return to her old duties, and they would seldom meet again. But at least she would not have to face Anna; not have to be confronted with her failure, her true nature as a monster.

But now the princess felt more alone than she ever in her life before. These days she could barely bear to be around anyone, even her parents, and spent most of her time in her room. However, her curse was even more erratic now, so it was better to remain outdoors, where uncontrolled snow and ice was less damaging to the ancient wooden castle. After all, she had seen, first-hand, just how easily her power could bring down a building. She was dangerous, pure and simple.

Tears brimming, she made her way along a path near the castle, not really paying attention. Then her foot kicked something. Curious, she looked down, and saw a rather dirty brown book. It was lying face-down, and seemed to have been there for a few days. She stooped down to pick it up, and gasped. It was the copy of Norwegian Folktales she had given Anna. The inscription she had so neatly written on the flyleaf was smudged and smeared by the rain, but she could still make out Anna's name. It had been her first gift to her friend. And now Anna had tossed it from her window, high under the castle roofs, where it had fallen down to rest here, to decay forgotten amidst the grass and dirt.

This was it—the final sign, beyond all doubt, that her friend no longer cared for her, or wanted anything to do with her. She was alone. She would always be alone. Loneliness was no stranger to her, but why did it have to be so much harder now? For one brief, glorious moment, sweet summer had shed its brief light on the bleak winter of her life. But now… now her world was darker and colder than ever.

Weeping, Elsa clutched the book to her chest and ran back inside the castle, fleeing to her room. This was no time to spend reading fantasy tales, losing herself in other worlds. She could not run from who she was. Somehow she had to find a cure for her curse, a way to get rid of it once and for all. Or she would never have any friends, ever again. There must be a cure, she told herself. There must. And she would not rest until she found it.

"Right," Kaisson said, standing up at the end of breakfast the following day. "His Grace the Duke of Weselton has sailed, so things will go back to normal starting from today. His Majesty has authorized me to inform you all that negotiations concluded successfully, and Arendelle and the United Kingdom have signed a trading agreement that is definitely in our favour. Good work all of you."

"And might I add my own thanks," Gerdason added. "I know it's been extra work, but those of you who had extra duties, or worked different jobs than normal, have all done very well. Aslaug, Her Majesty wanted me to convey her personal gratitude for the way you looked after the duke; he appears to have been very satisfied with your performance indeed."

"Thank you very much, ma'am," Aslaug said.

"And Anna, I'm sorry you have to return to being scullery maid," the housekeeper continued. "I know it's a big step down, but the princess has told me personally that she very much enjoyed having you as her maid, and hopes to make the position permanent as soon as possible. I trust that you yourself enjoyed the experience?"

Anna shrugged. "Can't say I did. Not sad it's over."

"Anna! Really!" Gerdason exclaimed. "I know you have suffered a great personal loss recently, but do please try to retain some manners. It is a great honour to serve the princess."

"Yes, ma'am," Anna replied sullenly. "Of course it is. Huge honour. Huge."

"Good. Is there anything else, Mr Kaisson?"

"That should just about cover it," the butler said. "Dismissed."

Some of the servants started to head out to their assigned duties, while others, including Anna and Hilde, remained in the Servants Hall to clear up.

"Hey, Anna," Hans called, a smirk on his face as he loitered by the door, lighting a cigarette.

"Yes?"

"What's this personal loss, eh? Lose a friend?"

Anna glared at him. "None of your business. Why do you care?"

He shrugged. "I don't really. Just bored. Everything's so dreadfully boring here. So what was it? A tragic death?"

"Shut it, Hans!" Hilde snapped.

Anna rolled her eyes. "Hans can say what he wants. I will just ignore him." She stared at the handsome young man, contempt on her features. "You really are pathetic. A waste of oxygen." Then she stalked out of the room, carrying an armful of dirty plates.

Hans's eyes opened wide, then he laughed. "She's all right, she is. Not sure about you these days, Hilde."

"Damn it, Hans," the maid snapped. "Do you have to be such a bastard all the time!"

"Tut tut! Such language! What would old Gerdy say if she heard you?"

"She'd say the same thing, I bet! Anna's just lost her father, and you shouldn't make fun of it!"

Hans smirked. "Ol' pappy snuffed it, eh? How?"

"He was crushed when his home collapsed," Hilde said, carefully avoiding any mention of the princess.

Hans laughed. "Well, at least Anna doesn't seem crushed by it."

"How can you laugh? It's her family! Her only family! Don't you even care about that?"

He shrugged. "So?"

Hilde looked at him, biting her lip.

"Do… do you remember your father? Your parents?" she asked.

Hans looked taken aback. "Why the devil do you want to know that?"

"I... I just do. So tell me!"

"My, you are bossy," he said with a grin. "Must be why I like you."

Hilde paused, and looked up at him, her face sad. "I know you don't mean that," she said. "But seriously—what do you remember?"

Hans shrugged. "Of my parents? Not much. I don't remember much of what happened before I came here. Just that it was bloody terrible."

"Do you miss your family?" Hilde asked softly. "Any of them?"

"Do I miss them? What kind of crazy question is that, you stupid wench?"

Hilde bit her lip, then shrugged. "Because I do, sometimes," she admitted quietly. "I mean, wouldn't you like to see them again? To know there was someone who loved you?"

"Honestly, I really don't care," Hans said. "The only person I care about already does love me."

Hilde's eyes opened wide. "Who?" she gasped.

Hans laughed. "Why, me, of course!" He looked at her sharply. "Why on earth are you getting all soppy on me? I thought you were different, more like me. Stronger. Not sentimental."

"I am like you," Hilde shot back. "Forget I asked anything. I was just thinking about Anna's father, that's all."

"Yeah, killed by a falling house. That'll do it," Hans said, and laughed. "I think it's hilarious. She runs away to see him, and the next thing you know, he's flatter than a pancake. Is that why she's been so moody? Silly girl. She should just forget about family. I have."

"Yes. I know," Hilde said, and sighed. "I have to go now."

"You're a weird kid," Hans said, shrugging as Hilde left the Servants' Hall and wandered down the basement corridor, thinking hard.

There was a small, subdued knock on the door. Elsa barely noticed it, as she was engrossed in trying to translate Olaus Magnus's thick Latin Historia om de Nordiska Folken, searching for references to the Nix Regina, the mythical Snødronningen. The knock was repeated, and Elsa frowned in annoyance. She didn't want to see anyone. For their own safety, it was best she didn't.

"Yes?" she called, rather more curtly than she had intended.

"Begging your pardon, Your Royal Highness," came a soft voice from the other side of the door. For a brief instant, Elsa thought it was Anna, and her heart skipped. Then she realized it was an older girl's voice. Who on earth wanted to talk to her? Who would dare be around her now?

"Enter," she said, standing up and making sure her gloves were on.

The door eased open, and a maid about fifteen years old poked her head around. Elsa raised an eyebrow. "Yes?"

"Terribly sorry to intrude, Your Highness," the girl said, curtseying. "My name's… my name is Hilde. I'm…."

"Oh, of course! Anna's roommate!" Elsa gasped, recognizing the maid at last. "How… how is she?"

"Well, you see, Highness," Hilde said. "It's… it's about Anna that I've come."

Elsa swallowed. "Yes?" she asked for the third time.

Hilde looked nervous, twisting her fingers together and keeping her gaze fixed firmly on the rug.

"She's… there's… there's something wrong with her, I think…" she eventually stammered.

Elsa blinked in surprise. "What do you mean?"

"She's been acting… strange. Weird. Not like her."

The princess sighed. "I know. And I know why. She's upset at me."

Hilde bit her lip, and shook her head timidly. "Highness, it's… not that. There's something… else."

"Something else?" Elsa took a deep breath. "Sit down there, please, Hilde. Do try to relax," she said, gesturing to a chair. She herself sat back down by her desk, and waited as the maid dipped in a quick curtsey then perched on the very edge of the wooden chair. "Please, tell me what you know."

"I… I've seen this before," Hilde said quietly. "Highness, please, forgive me! I'm worried about her! She's my… well… she's my…."

"She's your friend," Elsa said, smiling for the first time in days. "Please, I give you my word, you have nothing to fear from me. Speak."

"She-–Anna—told me that you… that you… when her father…." The maid looked up at her princess, fear in her eyes. But Elsa's expression did not change. She sat there for a few moments, a flood of different emotions tangling in her breast.

"She's right," the blonde girl admitted with a sigh. "I did. I didn't mean to, but… I did. This does not leave the castle, do you understand?"

Hilde quickly shook her head, then stopped, and nodded. "Yes, of course, I mean no, I would never tell! But… the thing is, Your Highness… Anna said that after you… did what you did… there was a—a storm, a blizzard, and the room was filled with ice. And… some… er, Anna was…. Anna was hit. Your… er, your ice got inside her."

Elsa nodded, then gestured for Hilde to continue, not feeling strong enough to speak. She gnawed at her pencil, her heart hammering as she remembered that horrible afternoon.

"Well, Highness, you see, the thing is," Hilde stammered, "is that I've seen… I've seen this before. This magic."

"What? When?" Elsa gasped, dropping the pencil in her astonishment.

"About… about five years ago," Hilde said. "We had sneaked into the castle, hoping to try and sell some watercress. We got lost, and found ourselves in a small garden. We tried to get out, but it was like a maze. We got lost. And then… and then we saw you."

"You saw me in the garden? Five years ago?" Elsa gasped, long-repressed memories surfacing. "Wait—that was you? Who else? You said 'we'…."

"Me… and my brother. Hans."

"Wait, Hans?" Elsa gasped in sudden recognition. "Our Hans? The footman? The boy I—I…." Elsa stopped and stared at the girl sitting opposite her. "The boy I froze?" she added in a horrified whisper, remembering the first time her ice had hurt someone. "That was him? You're his sister?"

Hilde nodded. "Your royal parents took us in, gave us jobs here—maybe sympathy, maybe to keep us quiet. But Hans—my big brother—when he woke up, he was… different. He… he wasn't Hans. Not any more."

"What do you mean?" Elsa asked, leaning forwards.

"He… he didn't remember me—that is, he remembered my name, but not that he was my brother, or even that he loved me. It was like he didn't care for me at all, or anyone. He was… he was cold. Angry. Hateful. He used to be so warm and loving, and now…. He hates anything nice, anything beautiful or good, and is always mean to people. Just like…."

"Just like Anna," Elsa breathed in sudden understanding as her heart soared in hope. "So that's why…. She isn't angry. She's just… her heart's just… frozen." She stopped, and let out a great sob. "By me! I did this. I did this all. It's all my fault…. Oh, Anna, I'm sorry…."

"Highness, please, don't cry!" Hilde exclaimed, shocked.

"It's my ice, my curse," Elsa whimpered. "It hurts everyone! Everyone!"

"Princess, please…" Hilde said, wondering if she dared try and comfort the princess. The Ice Princess, who was melting into a puddle of tears before her very eyes. Hilde would never have imagined it. Perhaps Anna had been right about her….

There was a quick knock on the door, and then Kaisson appeared.

"Highness, pardon the intrusion. Your royal father requests your presence. You are to—Girl! What are you doing in here!" he added, glaring at Hilde, who had immediately jumped to her feet.

"Stop, Kaisson," Elsa said, holding up a hand. She took a deep breath and stood up. Control, control, she told herself. You must learn control! "Any guest I choose to entertain is no concern of yours. Do you understand? Or would you like me to inform my parents of how you dared strike me?"

The proud butler immediately bowed low, his face pale. "Once again, Highness, my most sincere apologies. I am truly mortified. Had I but known it was Your Highness, I would never—"

"I would hope you would never strike any of the maids in this castle," Elsa said, her tone frigid. "They are our maids, not yours, and under our protection."

Kaisson dabbed at his forehead. "As you command, Highness. And of course, whomever you choose to converse with is entirely your own affair."

"Good. Tell my father I shall join them presently," Elsa said, rewarding him with a slightly strained smile. She turned to the maid, whose eyes had gone like saucers on hearing the butler admit to hitting his princess, and smiled more warmly. "Hilde, my friend, you have been of inestimable value to me. I shall talk with Mrs Gerdason about improving your position. How would you like to be an upstairs maid?"

Hilde's eyes went even rounder, and she scrambled to curtsey as low as she could. "Thank you ever so much, Highness."

Elsa gave her a grateful nod as Kaisson and Hilde left her room. Then she let out a long sigh of relief. It wasn't her. Anna didn't hate her after all—it was the fault of her magic, her curse. That was why her friend had been so… so unlike the real Anna. Of course that didn't mean Anna wouldn't be angry once she was back to normal, Elsa realised with a wry smile. But at least that Anna would listen to her, let her apologize properly.

But how to cure her? Knowing it was her ice magic that had caused it was not enough. Unlike natural snow, she couldn't just will it out of Anna. This was cursed ice, and she had no idea, not really, how it worked.

But there had been others before her—other Ice Princesses, other Snow Queens. Perhaps one of them had found a solution, or perhaps there was some mention in the lore of the Laplanders. Elsa immediately went to her library and started pulling down volumes, searching for everything she could find about the pagan beliefs of her distant ancestors, and the rites and rituals still practiced by the nomadic Sami reindeer herders. If the Old Gods were responsible for her curse, then they could also find out how to help Anna. There was a link—there had to be. And she would find it, no matter how long it took.

The princess clattered down the back stairs of the castle, one hand on the spiral railing to steady herself, then hurried out the door. In a moment she was in the familiar stables, scanning them.

"Kristoff! Kristoff!" she called.

There was a thump and a muffled oath, then the tousled blond hair of the stable-lad and delivery boy poked out from a stall. His eyes widened on catching sight of his princess, and he vaulted awkwardly over the stall door.

"Highness?"

"Kristoff, I need… a guide," Elsa said.

The blond boy's brow furrowed. "Where to, Highness?"

"A place called Hallen av Fjelletkongen."

Kristoff's jaw dropped. "The Hall of the Mountain King? Are you nuts?" he gasped. "Er, that is, I mean, are you sure, Your Highness?"

Elsa smiled. "I might be nuts, at that. I want to take Anna to see the noaidi. And as you're a Laplander, I thought you would make a good guide."

"Uh, might I ask why you want to…?"

"Take Anna to see a Sami shaman?" Elsa's expression darkened. "She's sick. Very sick. And I think… I hope… that the same gods that did this to me—" Elsa held out her gloved hands "—might be able to save my friend."

"She's sick?" Kristoff gasped, looking worried. "What's the matter with her?"

"According to Hilde, it's due to my ice—my magical ice. She said… that is, the same thing happened with Hans."

"Wait, Hans? You mean that Hans?"

Elsa nodded. "Hilde says he used to be a warm and loving boy, but ever since… I hurt him, he's been cold and cruel and hate-filled."

"Hans, warm and loving?" Kristoff repeated, shaking his head in disbelief. "Explains why he's such a bastard, I guess. Uh, pardon my language, Highness."

"I suppose it does," Elsa said, nodding. "So we'll take him and his sister as well."

"Sister? Hans has a sister?"

"Hilde."

"Wait, Hilde's his sister?" Kristoff's eyes went round. Then he shrugged. "The things I miss being out here…."

"Except he doesn't remember it. She does, but he doesn't. Just as Anna doesn't remember being my friend."

"And you think there's a connection?"

"I know there is," Elsa said. "I've done as much research as I can, and the old legends talk of how a Snow Queen, many, many centuries ago, had the power to change men's souls, make them bitter, hate-filled soldiers who would do her bidding without remorse or mercy."

Kristoff shuddered. "But… that's not you, is it? You're not making men do your bidding, are you?"

Elsa sighed. "It's the same magic, the same curse in me. I've taken away Anna's ability to feel anything but bitterness, hatred. She can only see the ugliness of life. And... I did it before. With Hans. I have to cure them both."

"Well, then," Kristoff said. "If Mr Jensen gets the horses ready, I can have the supplies loaded by this evening." He looked at her, concerned. "But… it's a long way away to the Hall of the Mountain King. Are… are we going alone, Highness?"

"My parents will be accompanying us," Elsa said. "Mother says we'll lodge with Lord Skarsgard, whose estate is out that way. That's where she stayed… before," she finished, looking down at her gloved hands.

Kristoff nodded. "Very well. Will His Majesty being riding Sleipnir?"

"Not this time. We'll all be together in the carriage."

The stable boy looked at her, a slight smile on his lips. "Hope I'm not taking a liberty, Princess, but your parents are really understanding about Anna."

"They are," Elsa said, tempted to tell him why they were so understanding; what her mother did to her. But it wasn't her secret to tell. So she just nodded. "Right. We want to leave first thing after breakfast tomorrow. Make sure we have all the supplies we need. And… we'll need two carriages. It's best I don't ride with Anna…."

"I damn well wish I knew why I have to come," Hans grumbled, looking at the two carriages drawn up in the castle forecourt with suspicion.

"Because it's an order," Hilde said. "From the king himself. You, me, Anna—we're all ordered to go with them."

"What the hell for, though?" he muttered.

"At least it gets us out of work for a day," Anna noted. She glanced at the carriages. "I really hope I don't have to ride with the princess."

"You hate her that much?" Hilde asked, wondering what the answer would be.

"Hate? No, I can't be bothered to waste time hating her."

"So what's the problem?"

"She just won't shut up," Anna snarled. "Always trying to be nice to me, to say she's sorry, to try and be friendly."

"I should like that, myself," Hilde said, under her breath so her roommate would not hear.

"At least there's none of that in the scullery, eh?" Hans said, grinning. "I dunno. I think I'd prefer superficial sucking up than having to scrub pots and pans all day."

"You don't know what she's like," Anna shot back. "There's something not right with her."

"We all know what that is," Hans told her.

Anna shook her head. "No, not that. There's something else... I can feel it each time I'm with her. It makes me feel strange, like something's really wrong. Unnatural. And I hate it."

"Right you lot!" The groom, Jensen, strode up to the servants, and gestured to the second carriage. "You're all in there together! I don't want you hanging about when their majesties arrive, so hop to it!"

Hilde followed Hans and Anna into the carriage, then sat looking out the small window as the king and queen, followed by the princess, walked down the main steps of the castle. The queen and the princess got into the lead carriage, while the king, after exchanging a few words with Jensen and Kristoff, entered as well. Then the groom mounted the lead carriage, and Kristoff took the reins of theirs, and, with a shouted command from the king, they were off.

"Where the devil are we going?" Hans muttered, glancing out of the window. "We've been climbing higher and higher in the mountains for hours, now."

"I wish you'd stop asking that," Anna said. She found his constant need to comment most irritating. It was as if his ego demanded that nothing could pass without his personal statement. Everything was irritating, mind. This carriage ride was tedious, for a start. Why on earth she and those other two had been ordered to come, she had no idea. Properly, Aslaug should be with the princess, and the queen's own maid with her, while the king would be accompanied by his valet.

Still, at least she didn't have to actually ride with the princess. God, what an annoying girl she was, Anna thought to herself. If she's a princess, why can't she at least act like one—haughty and proud, arrogant and stuck up? That at least Anna felt she could respect. It was how princesses were supposed to act. Not always trying to be her friend. What a truly ghastly notion that was. Anna shuddered at the idea. Why on earth would anyone want to be friends with that witch? A murdering witch. Not that Anna minded the murdering part. Whenever she thought of her father, which was generally only when someone was rude enough to mention him, she just felt nothing. Not even a hole, as a hole was something. She did remember how he used to treat her, and sometimes she felt she should actually be glad he was dead, but even that seemed too much bother. No, it was easier just to ignore his existence entirely.

The carriage jolted over a rock, startling her out of her reverie. She glanced out the window, and gasped. They were travelling along a narrow road cut out of the mountainside, and, just a few feet away from the carriage wheels, the slope fell away steeply, vanishing into a low layer of cloud.

"Great view, huh?" Hans called over, a confident smirk on his face. "Maybe they're taking us up to the top of the mountain to throw us off—what about that, eh?"

"They are not," Hilde shot back. "Why on earth would they do that?"

He shrugged. "Maybe we know too much…. More than we should know—about her…."

Anna snorted. "In your case knowing much wouldn't be hard."

Hans grinned at her. "Well, if we keep going up like this, maybe we'll end up in Jötunheimr, home of the frost giants. Hey, you think that's where the Ice Princess comes from?"

"Yes, because she's such a giant," Hilde responded, rolling her eyes.

"No, you stupid idiot," Hans said, ignoring the brief look of pain on Hilde's face, "I'm talking about her witchcraft. Come on, aren't you curious about it? Where it comes from?"

"I'm not," Anna remarked. "The less time I spend worrying about that silly girl, the better. There's something about her that I really cannot stand."

"What?"

She stared at him. "Like I'm going to tell you."

Anna turned away from him and gazed blankly out the window, her heart full of bitterness and anger. She had always been bitter and angry—it was what happened to you, growing up in the slums, having to beg for a living, with the rich constantly treating you as worse than filth.

Yet this was this even more annoying, persistent feeling, somewhere inside her, that this feeling wasn't right, wasn't natural. From time to time, Anna would even get the feeling that she actually liked the princess, which was a disgusting notion. How could she ever like one of them? And especially one so happy and cheerful? No, she and the princess were nothing alike—they were polar opposites. And always would be.

Elsa stared out the window, her heart full of sorrow and anxiety. Would this even work? Was she dragging everyone—her parents, Anna, Kristoff, and the others—on a wild goose chase, based only on a hunch she'd pieced together from fragmented clues in ancient texts? Would it actually make things worse?

Still, it was the only possible chance she could conceive of. Her mother had drawn on these ancient legends and beliefs to allow her to be born—that they had power was not the issue. Certainly they seemed to have more power than the Christian god she had always been raised to believe in, but who had never, as far as Elsa could tell, answered a single one of her prayers. Yet to call on these pagan deities was still something that did not sit right with her—or the way she preferred to see the world, as something observable, measurable, scientific.

Elsa smiled wryly to herself as she fiddled with her gloves: was she not living proof that the world was far from scientific? Living proof of the powers of these ancient gods? All her life, she had been disturbed by the clash between the neat, precise, ordered world as described by science and mathematics, and the chaotic, undisciplined one manifested by her powers. She had spent years trying to explain them scientifically, trying to find some theory, some explanation of how her magic could exist in a world where magic was, by definition, supernatural. And she had failed. The world was not only more complex and bizarre than she had imagined, she strongly suspected it was in fact more complex than she could imagine.

Faith, in that case, was the only route left for her. Faith that her idea was right. Faith that the noaidi could cure Anna. Faith that curing Anna would restore the girl she had once considered her dearest friend.

And faith that perhaps one day this would all make sense….

The carriage jolted over another rock, then made a sharp turn, still heading uphill.

"Are we there yet?" Elsa asked.

"It shouldn't be too far, sweetie," her mother said. "Kristoff told Jensen to head into the Jerall Mountains via Niflungr Pass, then bear left into Trollheimen."

"Trollheimen? Home of the trolls?"

"It's just a name, dear. There's no such things as trolls."

Elsa gave a quick, bitter laugh. "I wouldn't be so sure. I'm not sure about anything. Not any more."

"It's getting late," the king said, glancing out the window. "Are you sure you don't want to stay the night at Lord Skarsgard's manor, and head up the mountain in the morning?"

Elsa shook her head. "The sooner the better. I want an end to this. Whatever that ends up being…."

The carriages finally came to a halt, and Anna peered out the window. The sun was low in the sky, which at this time of year, she knew, probably meant it was well after nine. The ride had become increasingly slow and uncomfortable as they had climbed, seemingly endlessly, through a series of valleys and passes. Now they appeared to be in a narrow valley, sheltered on three sides by steep forested slopes, and open to the southwest.

"Well, this is exciting," she commented dryly as they exited the carriage. "So where now?"

Hans shrugged. "Ours not to reason why," he said. "I guess we walk from here."

"Kristoff!" Hilde called, catching up to the blond boy. "Where are we going?"

"Huh? Didn't anyone tell you? Hallen av Fjelletkongen."

"The Hall of the Mountain King? What's that?"

Kristoff gestured to the massive mountain that loomed above them, its upper slopes still covered in snow. "That's Fjellet Kongen, the Mountain King. Biggest mountain in Arendelle."

"But that's North Mountain, Nordfjell," Hilde said, feeling confused.

"That's your name for it, yes," he replied. "But my people are a little more poetic, don't you think? Come on—you can't say that that's not the king of all mountains!"

Hilde shrugged. "I suppose so. I sort of thought the mountain king was a person, though."

Kristoff laughed. "No, definitely not. The hall is a sacred chamber underneath the mountain. Outsiders are not allowed in, though, so you'll probably have to wait outside."

"Suits me," Hans said. "Better than getting lost in a dark cave."

"Hurry up!" Anna called. "I want to get this over with so we can get out of this nasty place."

The small group walked along the well-worn path, which gradually rose higher and higher as they passed deeper into the shadow of the Mountain King. The slopes on either side grew closer and closer, and then they topped a low ridge and found themselves looking down into a small secluded valley, surrounded by steep cliffs.

A large stone stood by the path, with offerings of bronze and antlers carefully laid out before it.

"What is this?" Elsa asked, curious about the isolated monolith.

"It is a siedi, Highness," Kristoff explained. "An offering stone."

"Oh, I've read about those," Elsa said. "But I've never seen one before…."

The princess walked up to the ancient stone, which rose, sharp and angular, high above her. The tip was still illuminated by the setting sun, making it look as if it were almost glowing, while the rest of it was in bluish shadow. It was strange to think that for centuries, or even millennia, people had been coming here, making offerings, asking for favours and the protection of the spirit world, whose entrances they guarded. Elsa shivered. There was such a feeling of age from this stone, a deep connection to her pagan ancestors. She removed a glove, then slowly reached out and touched it, letting her fingers caress the coarse surface. The rock felt warm under her fingers. Elsa knew it was just radiating out the heat it had absorbed during the day, but it almost felt as if the stone was alive, a living rock, beating with the hearts of her far-distant ancestors.

"Come, Elsa," the queen said, interrupting her reverie. "It will be dark soon."

"Yes, Mother," Elsa said, taking one last look at the stone before hurrying after the king and queen into the shaded valley.

As they walked along, men in strange garb appeared out of the trees and began accompanying them. Elsa found herself sticking as close to her mother as she could, but the men were unarmed, smiling, and Kristoff was calling out to them, greeting them by name.

Then one man, with a great blond-white beard, moved to stand in front of them. He smiled, and bowed his head briefly.

"Welcome, O King, to Dalen av Levende Klippe. I am Aslak."

"Er, thank you," Agdar said, looking somewhat uncomfortable. "Awfully sorry to just drop in on you like this, but… er…."

"We may not be your people, O King, but we are the same people, and we welcome you as such. You, the Sea Sami, living along the coasts and fishing, may have accepted the religion of the invaders, taken on their culture, but at heart you are still the same as us. We, the Mountain Sami, still prefer our reindeer, however…."

"I know you do, Kristoff," Elsa added, giving the blond boy a quick smile. "A little too much, in fact."

Kristoff shrugged, then grinned. "Sven's better company than most people, anyway—and more intelligent."

"So what brings you here, to the Sami encampment at the Valley of the Living Rock?" Aslak asked.

The queen indicated Anna, who was standing off to one side. "My daughter's… uh, friend has been hurt."

"Hurt? How? Why come to us?"

"I hurt her," Elsa whispered. "With my… my curse."

"Oh." He stared at her briefly, then nodded. "Of course. I remember your mother's visit, many years ago. Follow me. The noaidi will be in the Hall of the Mountain King."

"He's not expecting us, is he?"

Aslak smiled. "He is the Seer. If you were going to come, of course he is expecting you."

The small group followed the Sami chieftain up a narrow, rocky path that wound through the trees, then ended in a clearing, in the middle of which was a small circle of ancient, weather-worn stones. One side of the clearing backed onto the cliff, which was rent by a huge cleft over fifty feet high in its face, beyond which was only blackness.

"Wait here," Aslak said, and headed towards the great cave.

Elsa looked up at the clear sky. It was night by now, and the stars were out. She could make out the great band of the Milky Way, the breast milk of Hera according to the classical Greek myths she had studied. What, she wondered, did these Mountain Sami see the stars as?

Then she became conscious of a strange sound in the air, a unearthly thrumming that sounded like a hornet, rising and falling. It was coming from the cave, and she could now also hear a drum being beaten softly. Voices rose on the still air, female voices in a wordless chant to a tune unlike any she had heard before.

Elsa shivered. This was so unlike anything she had experienced at home, unlike anything she associated with European culture. And yet it was, almost literally, just on her doorstep. Her lessons, her education, everything around her had been so focused on the southern countries, the great cultural empires from Rome to Britain that had vied for control of the continent. Yet there was almost nothing in her studies about this culture, so alien yet so near.

Entranced, she listened to the strange music, the singing and the drumming, watching as people emerged from the cave and took up positions around the stone circle. Aslak, in the lead, was the one making the strange humming noise, and she realised that he was using a bullroarer, one of humanity's oldest musical instruments.

Then the music and chanting suddenly stopped.

"So… this is the young princess," came a new voice, and Elsa spun around. An old man was slowly approaching them. He was very short—barely even half her height, and his legs were bowed, making him appear even shorter.

"This… this is my daughter, Elsa," the queen said, dipping her head in greeting. "Elsa, this is the Sami shaman, Dovregubben. He… he is the noaidi who… helped me before."

"Bring everyone closer, so that I can see them," Dovregubben said. "My eyes are not as young as they once were. Not their majesties. Nor you, Kristoff."

"Uh, yes, grandpappy," the blond boy said, standing back near the king and queen as the others gathered around the tiny old man.

He looked at them, his eyes moving from one to the other slowly, carefully examining them. Then he nodded at Hans.

"What is your name, boy?" he asked.

Hans raised an eyebrow. "My name? What do you want to know my name for? We're here for Anna, though I can't imagine why."

"And for you. You too have the Ice Princess's curse within you. It has affected your memories, and your heart. You no longer remember who you are."

"I'm Hans, you senile old dwarf," the young man spat. "I know exactly who I am!"

"Do you indeed? Well, this will not take much to rectify." The noaidi gestured to Aslak, who handed him a wide, shallow drum which he then proceeded to beat, making a sound like distant thunderclaps, while chanting something in the back of his throat. Then he placed the drum aside, and quickly laid a staff of wood, decorated with twigs of birch, on Hans's head before the young man could object. There was a brief flash of blue-green light, and Hans staggered, then collapsed.

"What… what happened?" Hilde cried. "Is he all right?"

Dovregubben gave Hans a light kick. "Of course. Get up, you lazy boy."

Hans moaned and rubbed his head, then opened his eyes. He looked around, confusion on his face, then blinked. "What just happened? I feel… I feel strange…."

"Hans!" Hilde called. "Do you… do you know who I am?"

Hans slowly got to his feet, never taking his eyes off Hilde. "Wait… I know you…. You're… Hilde…." Then his face broke into a huge smile. "Hilde! My sister Hilde! My God, it's Hilde! I remember! Oh, Hilde, what happened? I… I remember, but… I don't remember…. You were there, I remember, but… I didn't know who you were…. I was so cold, so dead inside. Hilde, I'm… I'm so sorry…."

"Oh, Hans, I love you!"

Elsa looked on, her eyes wide, as Hilde rushed into Hans's arms, and hugged him tightly.

"And I love you, little sister…" he murmured, tears filling his eyes.

"What? What's this?" Anna demanded. "You said you weren't in love with Hans!"

Hilde glanced over at her roommate, a huge smile on her tear-streaked face. "Of course not, silly! He's my brother!"

"Your brother?" Anna gasped as the two siblings moved away, hand in hand, following Aslak back to the campsite. "What's going on?" she asked the noaidi.

"All will be made clear," he said. He paused, and smiled. "Or at least, clearer than it is now. True clarity is reserved for the gods. But it is good to see you again, young Anna."

"Again?" Anna raised an eyebrow. "I've never met you in my life. And I know I'd remember someone as short and ugly as you!"

"I, on the other hand, have kept an eye over you for some time," the shaman said, studiously ignoring her insults. "I have watched you grow into a warm, compassionate, loving girl, who has seen the very worst of humanity and has never lost that glow in her heart. At least, until now."

"Because of what I did," Elsa whispered, while Anna made a face, staring at the old man with undisguised loathing.

"Yes. Your powers have grown strong, young Elsa." The old man looked up at her out of piercing blue eyes. "Show me."

"Uh, show you?" Elsa asked, feeling her heart jump.

He nodded. "The ismakt."

Elsa glanced at her mother, who nodded. Then she removed her glove again and held up her bare hand, making the tiniest of motions. Glowing in the evening gloom, a sparkle of snowflakes danced in the cool air.

The noaidi nodded. "Good. That is not all, however."

Elsa slowly shook her head.

"Then show me," he grunted.

"Uh, what do you mean?"

"Show me what you can do," the old man said.

Elsa nodded, then spun her hand, creating an intricate dance of snowflakes that slowly coalesced into a snowball, which then exploded, raining tiny flakes of ice over them all.

"I know that is not the limit of what you can do," Dovregubben said calmly.

"Uh, no, but…."

"Reach into your heart," he said gently. "Find what you are, what you can do, and let it go."

The princess bit her lip, then, with a quick glance at Anna, who was looking extremely bored, took a few steps back, putting some distance between her and the others. She reluctantly took off her other glove and then made a quick sweep with her arms. As she did, a circular wall of ice columns sprang up from the ground, curving up and over the princess, while lethal jagged spikes grew out in every direction, their needle-sharp tips glinting in the last light of the evening. Elsa was left isolated in the centre of the creaking and groaning ice structure, her family and friends kept back by an impenetrable barrier of magical ice.

"Very impressive," Dovregubben said, tapping the ice with the long staff he was carrying. "You have great powers. But there is also much fear in there. There is so much beauty you could create, but not before you conquer your fears." He gestured to Aslak, who made a sign. Several Sami men trotted up bearing torches, which they used to start melting the ice. "You are afraid of hurting others, and being hurt as well," he added.

"Look, please, I don't mean to be rude, but can you help Anna?" Elsa asked, clenching her hands in front of her. "Like you did with Hans? With that staff thing you used."

"The varro muorra, the offering-wood?" Dovregubben asked, holding it out. He looked at her, tugging at his beard. "It's not quite that simple," he said. "You were much younger when your ice struck Hans. There was much less power, much less fear and anger in it. Once his memories were returned, that was enough. He could thaw his own heart, when he saw his sister and remembered that he had once loved her. But with Anna…." He shook his head. "I can return her memories of loving you. But not the emotion. No magic I know can thaw her frozen heart. The only one who can do that is you."

"How?" Elsa gasped. "It was my curse that did this to her!"

"It is not a curse," the noaidi said. "Or, rather, it is both a gift and a curse. As with everything the gods grant us, it is how it is used that makes it good or evil. Your powers can create great harm, great sorrow, this is true. But they can also create great beauty. Your curse comes from your fear, your worry. And your gift, the beauty of your gift, comes from your love. And that is what you must regain."

"And how do I do that?"

The old man shrugged. "I do not know."

"Some help you are!" Anna scoffed.

"Come here, child," the old man said. "Let me look at you."

Reluctantly, Anna moved closer to the dwarf, making a slight face. His blue eyes slowly scanned her, searching for something.

"The princess has had problems controlling her powers. It is to be expected. But not so much when with Anna, am I right?"

Elsa nodded. "Exactly! We used to be best friends," she said, glancing shyly at Anna, "before… I hurt her. I never had any problems when I was with her. We would have fun together, playing with my snow."

"My… my daughter just needs to learn to control her power, her emotions," the queen said.

The short man looked up at the queen, and smiled. "It is not that simple to control your emotions. But there are ways to make it easier. There must be a balance. You are aware that your desire to have a child caused an imbalance in the cosmos, stirring up the rivalry between the twin gods Biegkegaellies and Bieggolmai."

The queen nodded. "I am painfully aware of that fact, thank you."

"We all are," the king added. "Please, can you do anything to fix this imbalance?"

The noaidi looked at the assembled Arendellians, and shook his head. "The imbalance has already been fixed. There is nothing to correct. Winter has been offset with summer. The child of the Winter Winds has been countered by the child of the Summer Winds, a child of summer."

"What do you mean?" the king asked. "What are you talking about?"

The noaidi nodded at Anna, ignoring her snort of derision. "She is the one who brings balance. She is the summer to your winter. Only she can provide the balance you need to control your powers."

"And why only me, old man?" Anna demanded. "I don't want to be her balance! Chained to her for the rest of my life?"

"You have no choice. You are already part of her life. You have been from the moment you were born."

"What? Why? How?"

He smiled. "Because, my dear, you are her sister. You are Princess Anna of Arendelle."

.

KNOWTES:

Okay, hands up who totally didn't see that twist coming miles away. Anyone?

[**…crickets…**]

Fair enough, I guess. I've enjoyed foreshadowing it too much, and besides, it's based on a story where they are sisters, so it's not as if it's a huge shock anyway. The real question is, is it a shock to our characters? If they believe it is, or rather, we believe that they believe it is, then it works as a story, one that doesn't lose on the re-reading (always assuming anybody can be bothered to re-read this, of course….). After all, we don't avoid re-watching Star Wars now that we know [SPOILER!] that Darth Vader is Luke's father (Darth Vader = Dark Father – it's not subtle).

I didn't actually set out to make them sisters, and initially resisted the idea as it felt too cheap and cheesy. But then I realized that to give Anna a true happy ending, a fairytale ending, it wasn't enough for her to be the princess's lady's maid—she had to be a princess herself. In other words, she and Elsa would have to be truly equal to be truly friends with each other.

And besides, this is a story with magic in it—it is a fairy tale, really. So I'm allowed to have crazy coincidences like this. And in fact it's not really that much of a coincidence, as I hope to explain a little more in the next chapter.

Okay, on with my regular lecture on things I knew nothing about before researching this chapter and had to fake expertise in...

I actually checked up on the discovery of oxygen, making sure that it was in fact suitably before this story is set. And it was—in this 1770s, with three key men working on the issue more or less separately, and contributing different aspects to our knowledge of it. The guy who actually named it was the third, Antoine Lavoiser.

Olaus Magnus's Historia om de Nordiska Folken (A Description of the Northern Peoples) is a real book, published in Rome in 1555, and is, according to Wikipedia, a valuable repertory of much curious information in regard to Scandinavian customs and folk-lore. The original is in Latin ("nix regina" is "snow queen"), but I have kept the standard Norwegian title to make it easier to understand in the story (the Latin title, Historia de Gentibus Septentrionalibus, isn't very clear at all).

"Hallen av Fjelletkongen" is Norwegian(ish) for "Hall of the Mountainking," the latter two smooshed together to make it seem more like a placename. Probably very bad Norwegian grammar. And Sleipnir is Odin's steed. However, the king's horse only has four legs, not eight.

The old legend about the Snow Queen who had the power to freeze men's hearts to create an army is not actually a real legend—I just made it up as a way to connect the ice around the heart with the negative emotions in a stronger way.

"The world was not only more complex and bizarre than she had imagined, she strongly suspected it was in fact more complex than she could imagine" is paraphrased from JBS Haldane's famous quotation, "My own suspicion is that the Universe is not only queerer than we suppose, but queerer than we can suppose." It should be noted that Haldane is using the word "queerer" in its original sense, and is not pondering on the prevalence of LGBT among the stars….

The Jerall Mountains are the mountains which separate the Nord realm of Skyrim in the game of that name. "Niflungr" is the Old Norse for Nibelungen, about which Wagner wrote a massive opera, the Ring of the Nibelungen. Trollheimen is actually a real place in Norway, but the modern Trollheimen is simply a tourist name for the mountain range. Lovely scenery, however—or at least the photos make it look nice. The pyramidal peak of Innerdalstårnet there looks like a nice place to build an ice castle, if there are any Ice Princesses out there looking for some real estate….

"Ours not to reason why" is taken from the 1854 poem Charge of the Light Brigade, which was written later than this is set, but as they're not speaking English in "reality" I'm not too worried about that sort of thing. Even the film has them using rather anachronistic words like "okay." Not to mention "fractals."

The sunset times are taken from websites about such things, and based, as before, on Bergen, the model for Arendelle's townscapes.

"North Peak" or "North Mountain" is a really prosaic name. Grand mountains need grand names. Mt. Everest is named after… (drum roll) the former Surveyor-General of India. Woopty-doo. The Tibetan name, Chomolungma, means Goddess Mother of the World, which you have to admit is cooler. Mind you, not only did Everest himself not like the idea, one of the reasons for that was that there were so many competing local names and it was hard to find that one name that everyone could agree on. So they chose one everyone hated I guess. So I have taken the name Mountain King from Grieg's famous composition, which refers to an actual king, and borrowed it to use as the name of the mountain itself.

A siedi is as I have tried to explain in the text. As Wikipedia notes, in the landscape throughout Northern Scandinavia, one can find sieidis, places that have unusual land forms different from the surrounding countryside. Sami shamanism considers these spiritual 'focal points' and worships them as gateways to the spirit world.

"Dalen av Levende Klippe" means "Valley of the Living Rock." I hope. While the Disney name is taken from the trolls, of course, here the connection is through the siedi stone, how Elsa feels like she can sense the living souls of the ancestors in the spirit world within it. Which I personally think is a way more culturally and spiritually significant reason….

"Dovregubben" is the name of the troll king from Ibsen's Peer Gynt, the mountain king of the famous musical work by Grieg. It literally means "old man of the highlands," so works well here I think. Also, as he is not actually a troll, it acts as a connection to the troll character in the Disney film. His short stature, however, is a nod to the short stature of Grand Pabbie in Frozen. And I might as well make him Kristoff's actual grandfather…

Aslak is named after Aslak Hætta, a leader of the 1852 Kautokeino Uprising, which was a revolt by a group of Sami against representatives of the Norwegian authorities. There's no story-based connection to this (I have no plans to write a sequel about a rebellion by the Sami against Arendelle in which Elsa finds herself torn between two worlds or anything like that. Or at least not at this stage…), but I just like referencing real names from the historical period I've set this story in. The uprising was the only known confrontation between Samis and Norwegians that resulted in the loss of human lives. Really, I could not write this story like this without Wikipedia….

Talking of the Sami, I've made the kingdom of Arendelle into a completely fictitious tribe of the very non-fictitious Sea Sami. In my fake timeline, these Sami accepted Christianity and mainstream European culture, while the equally non-fictitious Mountain Sami, the reindeer-herders, remained independent and retained their culture. This is partially to explain why Arendelle is a separate nation to Norway and why their clothing has Sami motifs, and partially to give the royal family a little more connection to the Ancient Gods, a little more connection to the land. The broad timeline as I see it has a tribe of Sea Sami taking up Viking ways, then being Christianized.

The stone circle is like not the Neolithic ones of Britain, but a later style, about two thousand years old, used as gravesites and so on. I wanted a stone circle as a very slight call-out to the one in Brave, where the climax of the film happened. These stones are smaller, however. And there won't be any bear fights. Or bare-bottomed babies.

The noaidi drum and song is based on some Sami shaman music videos I managed to find on YouTube. I hope it's reasonably authentic, without getting into too much detail. The singing is called "yoiking," and there are quite a few videos out there. "Yoik of the Wind" is very beautiful.

All the facts about the Sami ritual music and stuff (at least the stuff that isn't clearly magical) I have shown is based on research I have done, so, barring (a) me getting the wrong idea from what I read and (b) the websites I consulted being wildly inaccurate, it should all be as explained in the text. The Sami word for shaman is noaidi, which means "the one who sees," And the old Sami word for the drum is govadas, and it means "an instrument to develop pictures with." The actual ritual I have described, however, is of course entirely made up.

And I shall return with the next chapter in a week, I hope. There'll be two more chapters after this, I have decided.

[Posted 22-2-15]

[Edited: 25 April 2015. "his legs was bowed"? Oh dear.]