Author's Notes: I've been sitting on this fic forever while I was off in the Glee fandom. Don't tag me.

After some experimentation, Elsa found that Anna was right; her powers had gotten stronger, somehow. But Anna had not seen the full extent of her powers – even Elsa herself didn't know exactly how powerful she was.

Years ago, her powers had been uncontrollable bursts of frost. After the Thaw, she'd learned to apply discipline and concentration to bend the ice to her will. Then she had progressed to conjuring forms, shapes, constructions that she saw in her mind's eye; she got a lot of practice during this stage thanks to Anna's insatiable appetite for snowmen.

But it was the finer things that surprised Elsa, like her ice roses. She'd always thought of her powers being big and grand, like her ice palace and the castle ice rink; it delighted her to be able to sculpt things on the other end of the spectrum. Delicate things, like icy dresses that flowed like real fabric. The fine beads and embroidery work that went on those dresses.

But this – conjuring icy creatures that had minds of their own – it scared Elsa a little. In hindsight, Olaf and Marshmallow, her early creations, were flawed. They were not very intelligent (Olaf had to be taught how their world worked and Marshmallow was barely capable of speech), they were prone to melting if the weather got too hot, and they had clumsy and misshapen bodies.

It meant that her powers had continued to grow with time and practice. It was one thing to have complete and absolute control over her ice, to be able to conjure unmelting ice, and to project her powers over great distances. But her latest creations were virtually indistinguishable from the real animal she modelled them after and had a keen intelligence of their own.

Fear gnawed at Elsa's insides; it was the only kind of cold that had ever bothered her.

It had been awhile since she had feared loss of control after the Thaw and her life had changed – again.

It had been too long since he'd heard from Arendelle – in particular, Elsa – since the official reply he'd received, acknowledging his offer and volunteering Arendelle's cooperation. It was curt, perhaps because the Arendellian queen was unwilling, but it was perfectly diplomatic. Frederik applauded her for that.

Frederik sincerely hoped the absence of a response was because he'd caught Elsa and his brother off-guard, and they were currently scrambling for a counter to the steps he was taking. It had been so easy to outwit them; the thought of how his brothers had handled things so badly made him curse Eirik for his heavy-handedness.

Sending the Southern Isles' Royal Navy against an ice witch? What a fool. That was why he was dead and Frederik was king; a title he hoped to hold for many years to come.

"Your Majesty?"

"What is it?"

The footman bowed. "You asked me to inform you immediately if you received a letter from Queen Elsa of Arendelle, sire." He had the letter in his hand.

Frederik smiled. "Good. Thank you."

It took Carl all his resources and his contacts to learn a few scraps of information about Brigit and Jehan. He was impressed in spite of his frustration; whoever was their spymaster knew how to guard his operations well.

But he was closer. There was a person he was supposed to meet later that night who was a former contact of this mysterious spymaster. It was evident why this man was a former contact because he had readily agreed to share what information he had when Carl had offered him a bag of gold for his trouble, and more to follow for any information about his former master.

Despite his greed, the informant had been careful about covering their tracks. There had been all sorts of safeguards and checks, something Carl had been able to clear thanks to his contacts from his mercenary days.

Carl was to wait in the shadows beneath Arendelle town square's clock tower when it struck the third hour after midnight. He was supposed to carry no weapons but still carried a slim dagger concealed in his boot.

Elsa's letter weighed heavily on his mind, long after it had been reduced to ashes.

What little spare time Hans had was spent writing a reply he would never send; it was too risky, she had said, and he agreed.

Dear Elsa,

First of all, I'm not going to talk about politics here. I won't sully this letter with thoughts of my brother and power and bloodshed.

It may seem a little strange for the uncertain times that we live in now, but often I find myself thinking of our summer days in the castle. I almost miss the paperwork now.

I carry your hopes for me close to my heart, even though the letter is long burnt. How I wish I can see you, and tell you how much it means to me that you want me to come home, that I have a home in Arendelle. With you.

I miss you.

I miss everything. I miss our talks. I miss your smile. I miss reading that accursed Shakespeare with you. I even miss that strange talking snowman pet of yours because he has your unique snowflake crest on him, did you know that?

I may not be very eloquent now, because of you. I can't call myself the same Prince Hans I was before we met. But when I think back over the past few years, I wouldn't have it any other way.

Love,
Hans

He sighed and blotted the ink. Once it was dry, he rolled it up and cast it into the fireplace, watching it burn into nothing.

When the clock had chimed the third hour and there was no sign of anyone else, Carl knew something was wrong. He drew the folds of his cloak closer and melted into the shadows of the surrounding buildings, searching his surroundings.

There was no body as he'd suspected. But there was fresh blood speckling the cobblestones, barely visible in the gloom. Carl knew that he would not be meeting his informant.

Carl knelt to inspect the blood more closely. The situation was not a complete loss; if he could glean further information from this, his efforts – and the man's death – would not have been in vain.

His heart raced when he saw another smudge of blood, and another. They formed a trail that led towards the castle, suggesting that whoever had killed the informant was headed in that direction. Carl knew it could easily be another minion, and that the spymaster would never dirty his own hands, but it was still a step closer.

But the castle… apart from Brigit and Jehan, there had been no new castle staff save for Benedikt and himself. Either the killer was hiding there to throw off pursuers, or…

… or the killer was someone who had always been there.

For one, crazy, fleeting moment, Carl entertained the thought that the spymaster was Queen Elsa herself.

He crept back towards the castle side gate, staying in the shadows. There was no use looking for the body now; a professional would have weighted it down with stones and thrown it into the fjord. His hand hovered over the heavy ring handle of the door…

Sound from inside caused him to hesitate. Carl followed his instinct, slipped to the side of the door, and held his breath.

Another black-cloaked figure emerged from within. As he watched, it removed its hood.

Carl caught his breath. It was de Falsen.

So Hans was wrong. de Falsen was far more dangerous than Hans had thought him to be. But Hans had made the right decision in keeping an eye on the Field Marshal.

But, now what? He couldn't very well pin the murder on the Field Marshal. There was no proof; Carl was sure that de Falsen would have gotten rid of any. The man had been operating undetected despite the investigative efforts of the castle guard and Carl, after all.

At least the informant's death hadn't been in vain. Carl knew for a fact that de Falsen was involved in this somehow; more likely a puppet of someone more cunning, but just as dangerous.

Who was his master? Frederik of the Southern Isles? Or… someone closer to home?

The sun had long since set, and Kai had been in to light the candles and stoke the fireplace. Yet Elsa seemed not to notice as she worked diligently at her desk. The room was quiet apart from the scratch of her pen on paper and the occasional spit of coals in the fireplace.

"Come in," Elsa called in response to the knock on the door.

Instead of Anna, it was Kristoff. "Sorry," he said, letting himself in. "Hi."

"Kristoff. Hi. What are you apologising for?" asked Elsa, setting her pen down.

"You were probably expecting Anna."

"I'm happy to see you too," she said defensively, "although yes, I do admit I am a little surprised Anna's left me alone for so long."

"Anna's got homework of her own, believe it or not." Kristoff was carrying a small covered basket, made ludicrously small compared to his large frame. "The council asked me to redraft the legislations Arendelle has on ice-harvesting and export since we've made so many amendments recently – frankly, it's a mess." He set the basket on Elsa's desk. "My – uh – spelling and grammar isn't the best, so Anna's helping me look it over."

Elsa frowned. "While I'm happy that she's helping you and taking an active part in governance, it's late." She chose not to mention the fact that she was also working; something Kristoff ungraciously picked up on.

"You're still working."

"I'm the queen."

"And she's the Crown Princess – well, that's what she said when I told her to call it a night, actually," said Kristoff with a shrug. "Anyway, she ordered some late-night snacks from the kitchens and commanded me to bring you some." The enticing aroma of sticky buns wafted out when he uncovered the basket.

"Why didn't she bring it herself?"

"Because she said she was on a roll and didn't want to break her streak." He winced; Elsa hid a smirk behind her hand.

"Ouch."

"I'm glad my grammar atrocities amuse you, Your Majesty." Kristoff fished out plates from the basket and set a sticky bun on one, offering it to Elsa. "Not all of us had the privilege of learning our letters and how to drink tea with our pinkies sticking out."

Elsa gave an unqueenly snort as she took the plate from him. "I was merely surprised that Anna considers herself an authority on language, given how our tutors constantly despaired of her when we were growing up."

Kristoff shrugged. "Dunno. But she was quite insistent on sending me here and leaving her alone with her work."

Elsa felt pride rise up in her, mixed with some guilt. Brushing people off was something she was familiar with, but it felt strange to see Anna doing it too. "I should take the day off tomorrow and spend it with her."

"Yeah, I think she'll love that." He was already on his second bun, words sloppy with honey and bread.

Elsa finally took a bite of hers; it was still warm, and delectably soft. She made a pleased hum. "They're so good, aren't they?"

"Mmhmm." His mouth was bulging full and the second bun had vanished.

"Cook spoils us." Elsa had vague memories of sweet pastries and other treats being sent up to her room when she was a child, and her favourite fastelavnsbolle being served outside of Shrove Sunday. The latter always seemed to happen whenever she was having a bad day.

"Having someone to cook for you in the first place sounds pretty spoiled to me."

Elsa laughed. "We can't help being born royalty. Besides, Bulda cooks for you, doesn't she?"

Kristoff brightened. "Yeah, her amazing lichen stew. Thanks a lot, Elsa, you got me craving it now."

She only shook her head and smiled at him. Elsa loved how he seemed to be more comfortable around her; her friendship with Kristoff was something she was beginning to treasure.

"Hey, so…" Kristoff brushed crumbs off his dressing gown.

"Mmm?"

"You were quiet for a bit back there. Everything okay?"

She considered his question. Kristoff was one of the few people she was close enough to confide in. Out of that woefully short list, he was the only one who wouldn't be offended if she chose not to confide in him. Even if he did sense that there was something bothering Elsa but she was choosing not to talk to him. He was good at keeping confidences, bested only by Sven.

But she did want to talk to him.

"Nothing new. The usual, I guess," said Elsa.

The corners of Kristoff's mouth turned down. "Oh. Still no word from him?"

"I asked him not to write back. It would've been too suspicious for him to keep receiving letters."

"Oh."

"I'm so conflicted," admitted Elsa. "This whole time, there's been this struggle between the two sides of me, being queen and being just me. I miss him, but I know this is something he has to do."

"I know." He cleared away the plates. "I don't know how you manage it all, honestly; if it was me in your shoes and Anna gone, I'd have gone nuts by now."

Elsa allowed herself a smile as she entertained the thought.

"Do you want a hug?" asked Kristoff quietly.

Elsa nodded. She walked closer and was enveloped in his arms sooner than expected; Kristoff met her halfway around her desk. Elsa closed her eyes and rested her head on his shoulder.

"I'm always here to listen," he said.

"Thank you, Kristoff."

When she broke the hug, Kristoff placed a hand on her shoulder. "He's tough," he said. "I know it sounds impossible, but don't worry. He won't take unnecessary risks. He's like… the most cunning guy I've ever known. He can't die even if you killed him."

Elsa laughed. "That's… reassuring. No, you're right. That helps a lot."

He grinned at her as he patted her shoulder. Elsa smiled back, feeling better. "Great. Now, go to bed. I should probably check on Anna; I'll bet she's passed out at her desk."

"Yes, sir," she said. Much to her amusement, Kristoff didn't leave until Elsa packed away her papers and extinguished the fire with a wave of her hand.

She felt a little guilty for lying to him. Elsa hadn't actually wanted to talk about Hans; she had wanted to tell him about her powers, but decided not to at the last second. As much as she loved Anna, her younger sister was unswervingly devoted to her. Kristoff not only shared her reverence for ice, but was also a level-headed voice whose stoic opinion she valued.

But Kristoff already had plenty on his plate, with his increased official and unofficial duties; Anna was a handful and a half, and her council weren't the easiest people to deal with.

"Tell me you have good news," said Hans.

Benedikt's expression was a deep frown. "I wish."

Hans grunted. "Come, tell me. It can't be any worse than what's happening now." Benedikt was giving him attitude, Hans was certain there was a good reason for it. "What have you got for me?"

In answer, the former sea captain withdrew a packet of papers from inside his coat. "We intercepted a messenger on his way to the castle."

Hans took the papers. There were some red smudges on the outermost papers which he ignored. "Have you read these already?"

"Just the outermost ones, to see if this was worth bringing to your attention. I recommend you read the innermost one first, though."

Hans nodded. He flattened the papers between his palms and smoothed out the suggested page.

To the Southern Isles,

The one called the Mountain who previously worked for us is dead. Your agent has successfully carried out his assignment.

We have not been able to find out who we was going to meet. Your agent is still in the middle of his investigations.

From the Spear.

"Let me guess," said Hans. "Before the Mountain was intercepted, this man was going to meet Carl."

"That was my best guess, too. The other papers are spy reports of Arendelle; the strength of the castle guard, political affiliations, maps. Blueprints of Arendelle Castle." The last sentence hung heavy in the air.

"Frederik's man is still loose in Arendelle." Terror prickled at his spine; he was grateful he had sent Carl back when he did. Otherwise…

The thought was too painful to entertain. Hans pushed it to the back of his mind and turned back to Benedikt. "Can we get a secure letter to your brother?"

"Yes, but we would not be able to receive a reply. We wouldn't be able to continue using that channel of communication. The only secure method we can use to continue exchanging letters would be through Her Majesty's ice birds." Benedikt spoke regretfully, as though sensing the protest Hans would put up at the idea of involving Elsa.

"No." He turned his back on Benedikt with a sound of disgust. "She'll worry if I tell her the reason for writing. I can't recall Carl either; I need him there, more than ever." Hans stumped around the room, his worry making his steps clumsy. "There needs to be as little contact with Arendelle as possible. Ideally at the last, when I need Carl here for the final move on Frederik."

"Do you want my opinion?"

"Even if I said no, you'd give it anyway."

"Trust Carl," said Benedikt.

"I do, but – "

"No, you don't. If you did, you would let him carry out his task."

Hans's face twisted. "Of course I trust him to protect Queen Elsa, but surely you understand why I'm worried."

Benedikt sighed. "I know. I do."

"Even before you gave me your opinion, I've already made up my mind." Hans straightened his back. "We finish this, as quickly as possible."

It seemed pretty unlikely that a spymaster would be getting his own hands dirty, mused Carl.

There were only two logical conclusions; either de Falsen was truly the spymaster who was pretending to be his own agent to throw people off his trail, or de Falsen was just a false spymaster to further conceal his master. An intermediary agent who believed he was the one pulling the strings.

Carl picked the latter explanation. After months working with the man, he was convinced that de Falsen wasn't cunning enough to plot such subtle espionage.

He could believe that Brigit and Jehan worked for de Falsen, though. And after witnessing what had happened to his informant last night, Carl suspected he knew what had happened to the two young spies, and that it would no longer be necessary to search for them.

And with that, it was clear what he had to do. Even if the spymaster was Frederik (which he believed was so), Carl couldn't return to the Southern Isles to investigate further. Hans had ordered him to stay in Arendelle and protect Elsa, and that was what he would do.

That left the theory that the true spymaster was in Arendelle, someone placed highly in the castle, someone whom no one would suspect.

For all it seemed very glorious and exciting, the actual work that went into a revolution was actually dull. Hans spent a good deal of time writing letters to woo influential people to his cause, arranging meetings in which he outlined his grand plan, and raising funds to keep the whole thing running.

"Even now, I'm convinced that this is all a dream I'll awaken from one day," he muttered as he signed off on a letter to one of the minor Southern Isle lords. "That perhaps I've dozed off while doing Queen Elsa's paperwork."

"That is the reality of the modern world," answered Benedikt. "Layers of bureaucracy and bribery."

"So speaks a member of the bureaucracy."

Benedikt laughed. "Well, you wanted to do this the bloodless way. That's why we're spending hours cooped up and writing coded letters instead of just storming the castle."

"The nobles of the Southern Isles will be far more effective against my brother than any bloody coup. The people's opinion of him is already low; we just need to turn more of the nobility against him."

"And then? You will be king?"

Hans said nothing. He reached across the desk to pull a bundle of logistics lists towards him.

"... I've thought about it," he admitted. "Many times. How this is what I've spent my life working towards, everything I've wanted since I was a boy." Hans's expression darkened. "But now I have everything when I used to have nothing, and I have to choose just one. It's not fair."

"I'm not sure; did you want me to speak or no?" asked Benedikt.

"And since when has that ever stopped you?" Hans shot back dryly.

"Have you ever considered that a crown could not be what you truly wanted? It was what your brothers wanted, so you only wanted it to prove you were better than them. It would certainly explain why you're so torn about becoming king."

Hans shot Benedikt a sour look. "Of course I've thought of that. But that would leave me with nothing. My life would have been a waste, and there would be nothing to look forward to."

"None of us ever know where we'll end up in life," said the older man. "For instance – look at me. I grew up wanting to spend my life on a ship in the Navy and here I am, a cripple helping a prince overthrow a king."

"... If your intention was to be reassuring, you've failed miserably."

Benedikt laughed. "It's a good thing that wasn't what I intended. Look – the point is, life is uncertain. That's the one certainty of it. The choices you make chart the course of your life."

"You and your riddles are spectacularly unhelpful. I was mistaken to think that your decades of life experience actually taught you anything useful."

"One day, you'll wake up and realise I'm right," remarked Benedikt with a shrug.

"Lovely. But for now, I'll settle for making sure I have all the time to wait until then."

Both the official letters between Frederik and herself – and her spies' messages – sent her frequent reports on the situation in the Southern Isles; she read about the growing unrest with some worry. While she was glad that Hans' plans were working, a part of her was concerned that it would spill over and infect her people, though her council assured her she was too beloved a ruler for that.

"The people love and trust you, Your Majesty," said Thorir. "We are a small but hardy kingdom, and each person knows their place and duty."

"As well as their loyalty to the Crown," added de Falsen.

Elsa smiled her court smile. "I'm pleased to hear that. Perhaps we should have a holiday or festival as a gesture of appreciation."

"There's no need for such a gesture – " began Thorir.

"That sounds like a fine idea, my queen," said de Falsen.

Both men exchanged surreptitious glances. Elsa watched them carefully.

"Please share your thoughts, my lords."

Thorir cleared his throat. "You have not given the people any reason for dissatisfaction. There are other, more important matters that must be attended to – they will understand. I'm not saying it's a bad idea, simply that it is less important."

"There has been a lot of unrest in the Southern Isles and at the very least, Arendelle is aware that it has some connection to us," said de Falsen. "The people need to see that you are handling affairs well, Your Majesty – both locally and abroad. They should see that you are a strong queen, a direct descendant of Queen Margaret. I think it's a good idea to remind them."

She nodded. "You advise me well. I will consider both points."

Elsa had never before enjoyed a council meeting so thoroughly. Anna and Kristoff made a good team as they presented Arendelle's revised legislations on ice for approval. It reminded her that Anna was more than the idle girl most of her government saw her as, and Kristoff an ambitious commoner sleeping his way to the top.

Even if Anna somewhat ruined the effect by flashing Elsa an effervescent thumbs-up and grin at the end of the meeting.

The time had come.

They didn't dress all in black, or sneak into the castle in the dead of night. They didn't conceal weapons in their clothing. They didn't slaughter guards that remained loyal to their prince, or kill servants in their furious raid.

At the appointed hour, Hans dressed in his simplest clothing and arrived at the castle with his retinue, Benedikt flanking him. Both men made no attempt to disguise their physical impairments, or their identities.

Their men – bought and those that had infiltrated the castle – let them pass without a word, or silenced those who tried to stand in their way. Their ranks swelled as more conspirators openly declared their affiliation.

Simultaneously, in the town, curious folk began to gather as men in uniform spoke, reading aloud an essay they knew by heart. It detailed the rights of people, the right to rule themselves; dangerous subversive ideas. And yet no one moved to silence the men.

A commotion started as more uniformed men moved to stop the speakers – only to be stopped themselves by the townspeople. Everyone seemed to hold their breath collectively.

In the castle, Frederik was in his office when Hans appeared, opening the door and entering alone.

Frederik didn't look up from his papers. "I was expecting you to show up with a knife," said the elder Westergaard mildly. "Or an army, at least."

Hans shook his head. "That approach is uniquely yours, I think."

Frederik sighed. He laid his quill on the table and stood up. "So what is this? What do you plan on doing to me now?"

"Retirement from public life," said Hans. "You can choose to enter a monastery if you want, though I doubt you will. The government is willing to pay you a handsome pension, enough to live comfortably in any city you choose as long as you leave the Southern Isles for good."

"The government? You've done this properly, I see. How many of my ministers do you have? Or," said Frederik, lip curling, "when you say government, do you mean yourself?"

"I don't have to answer that."

"No, you're right." Frederik clasped his hands behind his back. "It doesn't matter anymore." He raised his voice. "Take them."

Cloaked men burst into the room and seized Hans, twisting his arms behind his back and forcing him to his knees. Hans cried out as weight was put on his prosthetic leg.

"Gently," Frederik admonished. "My brother is a cripple."

Hans choked out a curse as he was pulled upright again. Frederik watched as the door opened and more cloaked men led Benedikt inside, similarly restrained. "You did a surprisingly good job with this rebellion, Hans," he said idly. "Turning the commoners and nobles against me was an inspired touch."

Hans bared his teeth in a snarl, too angry and frightened to speak.

"What, you actually thought you could defeat me? I, who have been studying spycraft and espionage before you were born?" Frederik adjusted the crown on his head. "Your rebellion has failed. My cloaks have rounded up most of the conspirators. More of them will be calling on the sympathisers and giving them a chance to see the error of their ways."

Throughout this, Hans had kept his eyes fixed on the ground. Frederik nodded at one of the cloaked men. Hans' head was wrenched upwards so he was looking into cold, flinty eyes.

"And that's not even the best part," said Frederik. "Oh no; your precious Elsa and I have been exchanging official letters. Before I was so rudely interrupted, I was in the middle of writing to Arendelle to inform them I've caught the plotters, and to thank her for Arendelle's help with the investigation."

Hans' heart sank. Again, he was the burden on Elsa, forcing her to choose between him and her people.

"Now…" Frederik placed his hands behind his back. "I have to decide what I'm going to do with you. A monastery, perhaps? That'll be funny. Maybe prison in exile somewhere far away. Minus the handsome pension, of course; that's ridiculous for a convicted traitor."

"You can't kill me," said Hans, rather desperately.

"I can't," acknowledged Frederik. "Even though I'm well within my rights to. The difference between Eirik and I is that I know that there are better ways to defeat an enemy. That's why I'm king and not him."

Hans hung his head in despair.

Elsa let the parchment slip from between trembling fingers; she sat back down in her chair as frost began to radiate over the floor.

He'd failed. He was lost again.

Anna snatched up the letter and read it rapidly. She groaned.

"Oh, shit."

"Anna!"

"It seemed like the best word for it!" Anna knelt in front of the chair and grasped Elsa's shoulders. "Elsa, look at me. You've got to calm down, so we can think about what we're gonna do next. Okay?"

Elsa shook her head. "I should have never agreed to let him go. I should have helped him more – I can do so much with my magic and I didn't lift a finger to help him, even though I knew how dangerous it was."

"Elsa, you're doing that thing again where you blame yourself for everything that goes wrong." Anna squeezed her sister's shoulders. "First of all, Hans is that special kind of bonehead that wants to do a thing even more when you tell him no. I should know, that's me as well," she added as an aside. "Secondly, helping him would have been even more dangerous. You could have been caught, and you know he'd rather lop his Southern Isles off than let anything happen to you."

"Anna!" repeated Elsa, utterly scandalised.

"Hey, you know I'm right. Don't look at me like that."

Anna's ridiculousness was working. Elsa found her stomach unknotting and her thoughts became more lucid. She dropped her head to rest it in the crook of her sister's neck. "I'm not looking at you," she said, her voice muffled by Anna's collar.

"Well, now you aren't." Anna's arms tightened around her sister. "Do you feel better?"

"Yes. Thank you."

"Good." Anna rubbed comforting circles on Elsa's back. "Now, we need to find a way to get Frederik to give Hans back. I'm pretty sure he's not gonna kill Hans because he needs him alive, so… you can do your diplomatic thing, make a few icicles, and make him see things your way."

Elsa nodded. It was that certainty that was keeping her from completely losing her mind. Frederik was not vindictive; he would know that Hans was the only thing keeping her from devastating the Southern Isles. He knew enough not to provoke someone who could freeze an entire fleet of warships in its tracks – and had done so once before.

She had never been so grateful for her powers in her life before.

There was an emergency meeting called in Elsa's study. Anna sat in the chaise lounge before the fire, watching Elsa pace in front of her. They were waiting for Kristoff to join them.

"Elsa?"

"What?"

Anna pointed at the floor. "You're freezing Papa's best Persian carpet."

"Oh." Elsa focused; the carpet lost its icy sheen. "Sorry."

"Don't worry about it; nothing a good drying won't fix," said Anna jauntily. "I'll get Kai to take care of it."

Kristoff tumbled into the room. "Sorry I'm late," he said breathlessly, "I had some paperwork problems. But that's not important," he added, rapidly reading the mood in the room. "Go on."

Anna glanced briefly at Elsa. "Hans' revolution failed," she said, after a beat. "Frederik's arrested him."

"Oh, shit."

"Yeah, that's what I said earlier."

Elsa rounded on them, tense with worry. "I should have stopped him from going."

"Elsa, we've been over this. Regrets won't solve the situation we're facing right now." Anna stood up. "Here, sit down." Anna took hold of her elbow and guided Elsa onto the chaise lounge between herself and Kristoff. "Take a deep breath." Kristoff patted Elsa's shoulder comfortingly.

The queen did as she was told. "Anna, Kristoff. There's something I haven't told you two yet." She pretended not to notice as they exchanged looks behind her back. "It's about my powers. They've grown stronger."

"What do you mean, grown stronger?" asked Kristoff, even as Anna interjected: "I knew it!"

"It's easier for me to conjure things now," said Elsa. "When I created Olaf and Marshmallow, they weren't intelligent from the start and it drained a lot of my energy, but now?" She made a gesture and a snowy pine marten sprang to life in front of them. "Just like that."

"Can you control them?"

Elsa nodded. The pine marten hopped into Anna's lap and scrambled up her shoulder, curling around her neck. Anna ran her fingers down the creature's back and gasped. "It feels like real fur. But cold."

Kristoff blinked. "Okay, I'm officially very impressed and slightly jealous."

"Me too," said Anna. "Elsa, this changes everything! You can just – bear with me here, just fleshing out some ideas – sail into the Southern Isles on a horde of ice dragons and threaten to sic them on Frederik if he doesn't give Hans back. Tell him that he's a problem but he's our problem."

"Ice dragons?" said Kristoff, sounding torn between incredulousness and awe.

Elsa shot a half-amused, half-fondly exasperated look at her sister. "Anna, it took me and Thorir months after the Thaw to convince all our neighbours that everything was going to be the same as it was, and I wasn't going to turn into some all-conquering ice tyrant. If I make a big show of threatening them, I'd be undoing all our hard work."

"Maybe you could buy him back?" Kristoff suggested absently; he was mostly engrossed in getting the pine marten's attention. "Trade some of your ice creations for Hans."

Anna snorted. "Hans is not a tradable commodity, Kristoff."

"It's a long shot, but I think Elsa's ice is way more valuable to Frederik than Hans." Kristoff beamed when the pine marten allowed itself to be stroked. "I mean, look at this little guy!"

"I hardly think that sentient ice animals would be of use anywhere outside of a zoological garden," said Elsa. She made the pine marten vanish, much to the palpable disappointment of Kristoff and Anna. "Maybe ice ships."

Anna stiffened. "Not weapons?"

"No," replied Elsa. "I would never let things like that fall in the hands of men like Frederik."

The light mood evaporated. Elsa stood. "Thank you," she said, giving Anna and Kristoff a small smile. "I know what I need to do now."

Anna squinted at her. "I'm coming."

"Wait, what?"

"Elsa, I know you. Whatever you're planning, it involves a trip to the Southern Isles and I'm coming with you." She folded her arms across her chest.

"No, you're not. Someone needs to stay here in case something happens."

"Yeah, the last time you pulled that argument on me you almost froze the ship and the sea between here and Corona." Anna's pout became more pronounced. "I'm going."

"Anna, it's dangerous."

"Someday you're gonna realise that argument doesn't work anymore." She began to tick points off her fingers as she talked. "I have a longer history with Hans than you do – he's my jerk ex-fiance-who-lost-a-leg-and-found-some-decency-because-of-my-sister, turned sorta-friend-because-he's-dating-my-sister. I'm the Crown Princess of Arendelle, sister of the awesome Queen of Arendelle who has awesome ice powers that have gotten even awesomer." Anna grabbed Kristoff's arm. "I'm dating the Baron of Tromso."

"I'm the Baron of Tromso because I'm dating the Crown Princess of Arendelle," stage-whispered Kristoff. Anna ignored him.

"Even though I don't have ice powers, I held my own during the last two Arendellian-Southern Isles crises," finished Anna proudly. "Climbed the North Mountain, fended off a wolf pack, brought back summer. Just like that. And the second one! You should've seen my swordplay! Sir Hyvald would've been so proud."

"... Fine."

"And I – wait, what?"

"I said fine," said Elsa. "I trust you, Anna. And I would be lying if I wasn't terrified. There's no other person I would want by my side more."

Anna sprang to her feet and threw her arms around Elsa's neck. "You won't be sorry! I'll be the best sister/diplomat/princess/wingman there ever was!"

Elsa embraced Anna, closing her eyes and burying her face in Anna's shoulder. She did feel much better, thanks to Anna and Kristoff. They'd helped her see that the situation wasn't as dire as it could have been.

There was still a chance. She would not let him down a second time.