The air was noticeably warmer, though the sun was already beyond the mountains, when Kristoff stopped the sleigh. The snow had melted off here, and the grass was still green. Anna gripped his hand and jumped to the ground. The ground surrounding them was littered with rocks, some pebbles, some that reached Anna's waist in size.

"Where are we going, exactly?" Anna looked for signs of life- buildings, chimney smoke, roads- but found none.

Kristoff grinned and approached one of the boulders. "You'll see."

He leaned down and spoke to the rock, to Anna's shock. "Hey, Cliff, wake up, will ya?"

He moved on to the next, "Brock, how are you, old friend? Grumpy as ever?"

This went on for a few moments before the rocks finally stirred to life. Anna could hardly understand what was happening as the rocks rolled towards them and took shape, their knobby arms fighting to be the first to hug Kristoff's legs. A dozen voices spoke at once, all too loud, their voices shaking the earth beneath Anna.

After several minutes of chatter and catching up, Kristoff was able to quiet them down enough to ask, "Where's Pabbie?"

One of the younger trolls rushed off to get him, and as he did, the remaining trolls noticed Anna for the first time. "Kristoff brought a girl home!"

Kristoff hid his face with his hand and groaned. "Guys, that is not why we are here." His voice was drowned out in the cheers and barrage of questions being hurled at Anna. She stuttered and looked at Kristoff, who just shrugged helplessly.

Before Anna could work in an answer to any of the dozens of questions being eagerly asked, Pabbie rolled down the hill and stopped in front of the two of them.

"Your majesty," he bowed slightly, before looking to Kristoff. "I know what brings you here. Let us speak privately on the matter."

He led them to a hollowed out tree trunk that was bathed in the pink of dying sunlight, old and knotted. Its entrance was barely large enough for Kristoff to fit through, but they descended into a room drenched in candlelight and a woody smell, large enough for a large family of trolls, comfortable enough for a few humans to enjoy an evening cup of tea. The three of them sat on the ground around a small table and the mossy troll handed them both something hot and earthy to drink.

Pabbie sipped from a small mug and looked at Anna with compassion. "I am sorry you never knew about your sister's power."

Anna looked from him to Kristoff and back. "Wait, you knew?"

"Yes, I know all too well what she is capable of. Many years ago, your parents came to me, holding you in their arms. There was an… incident." His eyes flickered to the strand of white hair on Anna's head. "Your sister struck you with ice, on accident of course. You nearly died."

Anna's hand drifted to her head, vague pictures from a lifetime ago coming into focus. A flash of ice, the blurry faces of trolls standing over her, Elsa crying into her mother's dress.

Pabbie frowned. "I never meant for your sister to be isolated from everyone. I told your parents that Elsa needed to learn control over her powers. This… what she has done to herself, should have never happened."

Anna took a drink from the clay cup in her hands, trying hard to forget what she had seen her sister do to herself. "So, what can you do?"

"I'm afraid there is nothing my magic is able to do for your sister. Her heart is infected by an unnurtured form of her powers. It's eating her alive, from the inside out, freezing her heart. She never had anyone show her the beauty and strength she is capable of. All your sister has known in the last ten years has been fear. And that fear is capable of utterly destroying her soul."

Tears streamed down Anna's face. She sat in stunned silence. Her sister was lost. "So this was all for nothing." It was more a haunting fact than a question.

Pabbie put his small, rocky hand on her knee. "No, I did not say that."

Anna wiped her face with her sleeve. "What are you saying, then?"

He reached his hand up and pointed to Anna's chest. "Your answer is there. You, Anna, are the only one with the power to melt the ice in Elsa's heart and save her."

"What are you talking about? I'm just… me. You're the one with magic."

"Ah, but you have magic more powerful than mine. The bond of love between sisters has more power than the strongest spell. I can help you reach her, but it is you that must go to her."

"Okay," Anna nodded slowly, still not fully understanding. "We can leave right away, you can come to the palace with us."

Pabbie chuckled lightly. "There is little love between my people and yours. I'm afraid they would not react well to a magic being like myself coming to them."

"How do I reach her, then?"

"I will put you to sleep, and there you will find her. Elsa's mind is awake and fighting, but it is quickly losing strength. You must aid her, in her own mind. I can merely provide a bridge. You must walk the path."

Anna looked at Kristoff, who grabbed her hand and squeezed it in support. "I'll be right here, Anna."

She looked back at the old troll and nodded. "Okay, help me get my sister back."

Hans stood over the unconscious queen quietly. At this point, the nurses were only providing supportive care, keeping the queen warm, monitoring her heart rate and temperature. Waiting.

Rumor had spread quickly of Princess Anna's absence. She had left a day ago, off to find an elusive cure, one that might not exist. The kingdom was weaker than ever before. Hans had sent a message to his brother.

He estimated maybe twelve hours before the attack began. Some trading ships had already made harbor, carrying men and weapons, smuggled onto the shore as goods and merchants. By the time an armada was visible approaching shore, it would be too late. The ships were to arrive in the morning mist, before the sun rose above the cliffs.

Hans slowly ran a hand down Elsa's cheek. The biggest variable, out of the picture. One more powerful than Hans ever dreamt she would have been, and she had been taken care of without him lifting a finger.

This was his moment. The day he would finally be recognized by his brothers as more than just the outcast. This was victory.

The girl before him moaned slightly and her face creased, fever and pain mimicking life. She would not wake. Elsa was dying. Hans felt it in her skin, saw it in the doctor's eyes. This was victory. It didn't feel victorious. It felt cowardly.

Hans leaned over and kissed her cheek. "I'm sorry. This is something I have to do."

Before he could allow himself time for second thoughts, Hans straightened and walked out of the infirmary, his eyes not meeting any of those who looked at him curiously.

Night had fallen, and before the sun had a chance to make its entrance, Arendelle would belong to Hans.