Chapter Thirty-One
Disclaimer: I neither own the rights to Disney, Frozen, the Disney universe nor any of its associated media, derivatives or products. I do not profit from this work.
Clink. Click. Clink. Click.
"Pacing will not aid you, Julia."
"If you would just do your job, I wouldn't have to pace!" the Snow Queen hissed, turning to the mirror. Her reflection looked back at her coolly, obviously unimpressed. "I demand you let me watch these events unfold!"
"The building is sanctified territory, you know that as well as I do."
"The whole castle is sanctified territory!" the Snow Queen shrieked. "Show me the chapel!"
"I have no power within the Enemy's fortress; my powers end its threshold."
The Snow Queen growled and continued her pace. She walked over to the balcony and looked up to the cloud-covered. On an impulse, she raised a hand to the cold blizzard air.
"I wouldn't do that, if I were you," the mirror told her coldly. "You'll see things you don't like."
The Snow Queen ignored it. With a flick of her wrist, the clouds parted slightly, and for a brief moment, she could see the stars.
And then, the wavering bands of rose and green infiltrated the cleared space.
Julia!
With a catlike hiss, she waved her hands again, and the clouds closed over the gap. Still, the name echoed in her mind. Julia! Julia!
"Julia!"
She started at that, and turned. The mirror no longer reflected the palace room; instead, there was a meadow, decked in the green colors of spring, with little rosebuds flowering along in the grass. A lone figure walked through it—a blonde-haired girl, fair-faced and blue-eyed. Young and lovely.
"There you are!" a faint male voice called from inside the mirror. A new figure had entered the scene, a young man in a tunic, hurrying towards the girl. "I've been looking for you!"
The girl laughed. "I've been right here the whole time, Adam."
"No," the Snow Queen snapped. "Enough."
"Julia, the spring festival shall happen soon, and—well, I was wondering if you would go with me."
The girl was suddenly shy. "Adam, I would love to."
"Cease this foolishness immediately!"
The young man grinned. He took her cheek in the palm of his hand-
"I said ENOUGH!"
The screech fractured the icy walls around her, and the image in the mirror froze in time. "I told you," an invisible voice said from within the shattered glass. "You'll see things you don't like."
The Snow Queen was breathing hard. She approached the mirror, stared at the image. Loathing was written in every line in her face as her eyes found that of the young man. He was young, fresh and handsome. Brown hair, freckles across his nose. Strong features. And that stupid little girl, her eyes closed, so trusting, so foolish…
"One kind word," the Snow Queen whispered,
"One soft kiss,
A promise that you'd be true." She turned away from the mirror.
"One wrong step,
You broke my hope,
This heart meant nothing to you."
She closed her eyes. Despite her will, her feet beginning to trace an ancient country dance. Though a thousand years had passed, there are memories one never forgets. The heart never forgets.
"Your words so sweet,
My hand in yours.
"Slowly you spun me
Across the floor." She twirled slightly, in her long furs and dress. Even as she did so, a flurry of snowflakes flew to her side, taking the form of a young man, dancing in step to her voice.
"Our fingers tenderly intertwined
You swore you were only mine."
"One kind word,
All lies, all cheats,
A passing game to please you." She opened her eyes as another snowy figure arose from the ground, lithe and feminine.
"A song so good
But now it seems
The tune turned sour and cruel!"
Her partner broke away smoothly, carelessly, leaving her for the new figure. The Snow Queen's face contorted with rage. "Your words so sweet—
What was it for?!
Surely you knew
My heart was yours!
You crushed my dreams, you paid the price
In fear and snow and ice!"
With a dramatic wave of her hand, ice encapsulated the snowy figures, and they froze solid where they stood, hands outstretched in futile pleading.
"But now I swear,
Now I know,
The myth of warmth won't near me!" The sorceress strode again to the balcony, looking out over the frozen northern wasteland.
"I'll see the world
Bow down low,
All will come to revere me!"
And…she paused. Just for a moment. She turned back to the icy statues she had created, and touched the male figure's frozen cheek with her pale, bloodless figures.
"And thou, Love, foulest lie and foe," she said softly,
"Art dead and gone in fear of me."
Her voice faded away into the sound of the winter winds. As she stepped back, a snowy servant suddenly entered the room. "Yes?" she said sharply.
"My Queen," he said, bowing. "I am sorry to intrude, but we have received word from the Southern King…he has found the last shard."
Hans was awoken by sharp pain in his shoulder and knee, and a sickening crack as his head smacked sharply against a hard surface for the second time that day. Through dizzyingly blurred eyes, he saw his silver crown go skittering off over the stones. Certain that he'd sustained a concussion by now, he groaned and sat up. Before he could look around, however, someone—no, two someones—had dragged him backwards, and clapped what felt like metal gloves over his hands.
He looked up dazedly to see a pair of twin green eyes looking back at him. "You," he growled, getting to his feet. "Of course it would be you."
"Anything else, my liege?" one of his older brothers said—Caspar, he thought by the voice, but he couldn't tell without looking back.
"Nothing. Leave us," Agnar commanded.
Quickly they headed for the door. Before they left, however, Caspar muttered, "What should we do with this?" Hans saw a flash of metallic light in the shadows.
"Leave it with me." The younger nodded and laid what ever it was on the ground behind the king's boots, and then the pair left together, leaving the door open just a crack behind them.
"Agnar, you need to let me out," Hans said vehemently. "I need to speak with the Queen; this isn't a game!"
"No, it most certainly isn't," Agnar agreed in a very self-satisfied tone.
"Didn't you see what happened in there?! I could hurt someone!"
"Is that a threat?" the king said, taking a step forward.
"No," Hans said heatedly. "It's a warning."
Agnar raised an amused eyebrow. "A warning? How noble of you, Hans."
He looked entirely unaffected, and Hans couldn't understand it. "Agnar—brother, listen to me!" That drew the king's attention. "This is dangerous. You didn't see what I saw last year; I need to speak with Elsa and explain to her what happened, before the magic gets too powerful and I lose control of it!"
"Hm. Now, why would I do something which would upset my whole plan?" Agnar drawled condescendingly.
Hans stared. "What?"
"You losing control of your powers is the very thing I want." He smiled. "As a matter of fact, Hans, you've helped me. Your little stunt in the church gave me the last push I needed to… finish a special errand, shall we say. The Snow Queen will be very pleased."
"The Snow…" His eyes widened as it dawned on him. "You're working with the sorceress," he breathed.
"Someone give the man a prize," Agnar chuckled. "Yes, Hans, I'm working with the Snow Queen. Have been for a while, as a matter of fact. You see, this 'sorceress' of yours is actually the guardian of a very powerful artifact."
"The Devil's Mirror," Hans nearly whispered, his mind flashing back to that night around the harvesters' fire. "They say she walks the earth still, searching for the lost fragments of the mirror.'"
"She is close—very close. This last little shard here came from a corrupted French aristocrat's monocle," Agnar said with relish, pulling out a silver box that seemed to glow blue and scarlet from within. He retrieved from it a nearly translucent fragment of cerulean glass and held it up admiringly. To Hans, it almost appeared to be glowing. "Beautiful, isn't it?" He placed the shard back inside the box and tucked it into his jacket pocket. "With that, only three are still in use, and those shall be collected quite easily, if all goes to plan. When the Snow Queen covers the world in ice, she's promised to spare Arendelle and the Southern Isles for me."
"Elsa would never allow you to take Arendelle, not while she can still defend it. And neither will I."
"You?" The king laughed. "In case you didn't notice, Hans, you're a danger to everyone right now. You said so yourself. And as to Queen Elsa, you're a fool for thinking she'd ever be to your aid—after all, wasn't she the one about to turn you into an ice sculpture twenty minutes ago? Not that I was there myself, but I have it on word of some very good sources that her Majesty was less than clement towards your predicament, wasn't she?"
Hans didn't know how to reply, so he simply glared at his elder brother. "You see, Hans, the now that the Queen has seen your betrayal, everything you may have said is thrown into question. It's a pity she didn't kill you during that little spat in the church," Agnar added idly. "But that will be shortly arranged. This day will end with an icicle through your heart one way or another."
"She wouldn't," Hans ground out. "She's better than us."
"No, she's not," Agnar mused. "She just likes to think she is. But it doesn't matter; all I have to do is convince her that you're a danger to her people. It shouldn't be hard to pull off; after all, you have done remarkably in proving my point. Once she believes that you're a threat to Arendelle and her precious sister, she'll be more than happy to freeze you solid."
"You're wrong."
Agnar laughed. "You really are a tireless optimist, aren't you?" He gestured to the stone walls on each side. "Look around you, Hans. Look where you are. You think the Queen's going to listen to you now?"
Hans stared back, looking incredibly small and at a loss for words. Agnar let out a low half-chuckle and drew back. "That's what I thought." He headed towards the door. "You should be happy, Hans. You've finally found your place in this world: a prison cell, where all lying, thieving criminals like you truly belong."
He kicked the object Caspar had left behind into the watery light that entered through the window, and Hans saw that it was his sword. "What a shame it is, that you'll only be able to enjoy it for a few hours."
His hand was on the doorknob when Hans spoke:
"The Aspiration wasn't struck by lightning, was it?"
Agnar glanced over his shoulder. Hans had stood, face pale.
"I've never been burned, not since I was a child. And father was so particular about us wearing gloves. He sent me into the navy when I was sixteen; I wasn't even of age!" All the twos and fours were lining up. "Agnar, how long have I been like this?! Why are there things I can't remember?!"
The older brother had turned back towards the door, so that Hans could only see his face in profile. "…Thirteen eligible royals, Hans," he said, in a smug, silky voice that the youngest brother knew all too well. "Two unmarried princesses, one about to be crowned queen. Didn't you ever wonder why the others turned down the invitation?"
"Because you knew about Elsa." His mind was racing down the tracks of logic. "You knew all along—because the sorceress had already told you." A horrible thought dawned on him. "These powers didn't come from nowhere. Elsa had been protected inside this castle her whole life, but if something were to make her leave…" Agnar chuckled. "You knew I'd try to court her; you may as well have sent me yourself."
"And you played your part almost perfectly, I might add. Shame you spoiled the ending," Agnar sighed. "And we were all hoping for a little light show, but the Snow Queen's memory enchantments are strong. I'd wager you never even took off the gloves."
"You knew if we met that she'd reveal her powers eventually and be exiled by her people as a witch. Probably hoped to get my exile thrown into the bargain, too," Hans added, calculating the odds. "The Snow Queen would have been free to approach her, and with their monarch out of the way, Arendelle was wide open to invasion." Then, suddenly, his voice grew stronger. "But Anna—you weren't counting on Anna. Ever-overlooked little Anna screwed up your plans." Hans smirked despite the gravity of the situation. "Looks like we both underestimated Arendelle, brother."
Agnar's expression had morphed from gloating to glowering. "You were always too clever for your own good, Hans," he sneered. The younger's smirk grew—at least, until Agnar added: "Let's see if the Queen comes to the same conclusion."
And with that, he walked through the iron cell door and slammed it shut behind him.
Hans started after and tried to get to the door, only to have his arms nearly yanked out of their sockets when the chains attached to the cuffs snapped tight. He turned and pulled at them as hard as he could, but it was futile. The cuffs refused to budge.
Eventually he gave up and just stood there, looking around the cell. His pride at his own cleverness was quickly melting as the reality of the situation poured back in, and he sat down. Things began to click into place in his brain: large gaps of time, sometimes days or weeks, that he'd suddenly remembered he couldn't remember: waking up in the palace infirmary after the Aspiration sank and being told the ship had caught fire in a lightning storm. Learning one summer morning that his fencing tutor had been dismissed without cause. There were the beatings he'd gotten for not wearing his gloves, it had seemed so eccentric of his father, and then Arendelle…
I came to Arendelle. I saw the invitation and felt—felt like it was destiny, like I was being drawn to it. He wracked his brains, feeling nauseous. I always felt like they were keeping secrets from me. When did it start? How much of my life do I not remember?
The air was pressing in on him; the story he'd heard from the harvesters was worming into his brain. Whoever comes into contact with the shards becomes corrupted by them. When people stand in my way, it's like something else takes over me. No—no, it's still me, but it's so easy, to slip into that mold. For the first time in his life he was examining his decisions from the outside, and what he saw terrified him. There had never been any voice in his ear, never a hint of something else controlling him—except for an unspoken conviction that if he just listened to his more ruthless urges, he would get what he wanted. How much has this thing affected me?
And Elsa… she must have thought he was nothing but a traitor and a liar. Which he was, but that was beside the point. Even so, surely the Queen wouldn't just kill him outright. After all, she hadn't killed him during their fight in the church, though she'd clearly wanted to.
But if she thought you were a threat to her sister? that little mocking voice said in the back of his mind. A threat to her people?
Granted, she was fiercely protective of Anna and Arendelle. But she'd still hear him out; she'd help him if he just told her the truth…wouldn't she?
Would you believe someone like you, if you were in her shoes?
But—but Elsa wasn't like him; she was good. Surely she wouldn't execute him in cold blood…
The little voice only laughed.
As it happened, the Queen's thoughts were as much with the prince as his were with her.
After getting her arm bandaged by Sigurd and reassuring Anna and Gerda that she was fine, Elsa had fled the infirmary (and her maid and sister's constant questions) and taken to wandering the empty halls alone. The castle seemed dead quiet now, since the villagers had all left to their own homes again. She'd changed into her simpler teal-and-black cotton dress and had let her hair down in its braid, unable to handle looking like a blushing bride another moment longer.
She couldn't believe she'd been such a fool. Elsa had always considered herself a little wiser than her bubbly younger sister, more reserved and thus more likely to see things for what they really were. It seemed, however, that she'd been duped by the prince's tricks as easily as Anna had. Even worse, she'd done the very last thing she'd intended to do, the most senseless, ridiculous thing she could have done: she'd fallen for him. She'd trusted him.
"Stupid, stupid," she muttered to herself. She ran a hand through her bangs, the heels of her boots clicking sharply on the floors as she paced. Frost curled along the hardwood in great curving arcs. "How could you have been so foolish? He could have killed them! He could have killed you!" With a violent sweep of her hand, she sent icy designs skittering along the walls, furious. "You of all people should have known not to let your guard down! You know better than anyone what he's capable of!"
"Your Majesty."
"What?!" she demanded angrily, whirling around. King Agnar stepped back in surprise as ice crystallized harmlessly across his vest and jacket. Elsa pulled her hand back, startled. "K-King Agnar! I'm so sorry, I–"
"Think nothing of it, your Majesty," he said, brushing the ice off. "No harm done."
"I apologize," she said with a sigh, sitting down on a nearby bench. "I wasn't expecting to see anyone for a while. I didn't mean to-"
"It's hardly your fault. Your anger is understandable."
Despite his reassurances, she felt terrible that she'd struck anyone even superficially with her powers. As if trying to set her more at ease, Agnar sat down beside her. Elsa felt herself tense up, apprehensive, but reminded herself that whatever Hans had said about the man was probably nothing but lies. Lies to gain your willing trust. "I think I understand what you must be feeling," the king said, sounding incredibly weary. "I truly thought…but he played us both."
"I beg your pardon?" said Elsa, confused.
"When Hans begged me for a second chance, an opportunity to make things right, I thought that perhaps he really had experienced a change in heart," Agnar said heavily. "I should have realized it was too good to be true, but he seemed so honest, so genuine… I see now that I, as his king, was far too close to the situation to make that call."
"He has a talent for playing the hero," Elsa agreed bitterly. "And apparently for nearly burning down churches, too. I just don't understand how this could have happened!"
"Nor do I, though I expect with his talents of deception he could have had these powers for a long time without anyone ever realizing it. I should have known better than to trust him."
"We both should have," Elsa said, attempting to comfort him.
The king turned his gaze to hers. "Queen Elsa, I sought you out because I felt we must discuss what is to be done with him."
"I'm afraid I don't understand…?"
"I know that it seems too soon, but a decision must be made on how this matter ought to be handled. Considering all the crimes he has committed against you and your people, I think it would be better to render justice swiftly rather than wait until spring."
"Spring?" Elsa questioned, baffled.
"Yes. I realize that it would be easier to bury the body then, but I think both our kingdoms have tarried long enough wasting pity on the man."
"The body—but you're talking execution!" Elsa gasped, eyes wide.
"Your Majesty, though I'm reluctant to bring it up, were you not more than prepared to do away with him this morning in the chapel?"
"But that- I mean-" She struggled for some sort of explanation, the guilt curdling like sour milk in the pit of her stomach. "Th-that was different; it was self-defense-"
"Queen Elsa, please don't misunderstand; I'm not condemning you," Agnar said, in the gentlest of tones. "As a matter of fact, I think putting an end to Hans's scheming is the best possible option, all things considered."
Elsa's mind was whirling. "But execution—it just seems so harsh, especially when we have suitable alternatives."
"Alternatives suitable to punish three separate accounts of attempted regicide? Of taking advantage of not only you, but your dear sister as well? Even if you can contain such a criminal and protect your people, your Majesty, that would not be justice. Hans deserves death for what he's done—to you, to your sister, and to Arendelle."
Elsa stood wordlessly, walking a few paces away to think. Agnar watched her carefully. For a long moment, the Queen didn't speak, her back to him. When at last she spoke, her tone was impossible to decipher. "…You, as his…king?"
"Begging your pardon?" Agnar questioned.
"You said that you, as his king, were too close to make the call regarding his second chance," Elsa said quietly. "King. Not brother."
"I'm sorry, is there a point to this?" He sounded almost irritated. "Your Majesty, if we could return to the topic at hand-"
"When I was out on that fjord, everyone, including myself, thought that I deserved to die," Elsa cut him off, voice still soft and unreadable. "Anna didn't have to save me. I'd hurt her, almost killed her. I'd shut her out of my life for years; we weren't even close. No one would have blamed her if she had saved herself instead, least of all me." Though her tone was quiet, her words were sharp and clear as cut glass. "But she put my life ahead of hers, for no other reason than that I was her sister. That she loved me." Elsa turned to look at the Southern king, her blue eyes full of an icy fire. "Five minutes we have been speaking, and though you've talked of execution, not once have you called Hans your brother. How lucky I am, that Anna didn't see me the way you see him."
"Your Majesty," Agnar said through gritted teeth, all traces of empathy gone. "I implore you to listen-"
"I'm done listening. I don't know what I'm going to do about Hans, but I can assure you that he will not face a cold-blooded execution. Not from me."
"You are a fool," he hissed. "A naive little girl with no sense in her empty skull!"
"And you are a cruel, heartless man who deserves neither his throne nor his family," Elsa retorted coldly. "You will leave my castle immediately and you will not return, do I make myself clear?"
His face was contorted in an ugly snarl. "Why you-!"
"Guards!" Elsa called, voice echoing off the walls. Within seconds, at least three guardsmen had appeared at the end of the hallway. "Gentlemen, would please escort King Agnar off the palace grounds?" she said with steel in her voice. "He seems to feel that the company here is inadequate for him."
If the guards found anything strange with this request, they didn't voice it. Answering, "Yes, your Majesty," in unison, they courteously but firmly put their hands on the king's shoulders. Just before they pulled him away, Agnar spat, "This isn't over, Queen Elsa."
"Good day, King Agnar," she said curtly, and then the guards led him off down the hall and away.
"Gerda!"
The housekeeper turned quickly to see her husband running up to her. "Kai, there you are. I've been looking everywhere for you!"
"Where is the Queen?" the head footman said urgently. Willum hurried up behind him.
"After we got her bandaged up she insisted on going off alone. She left before I had time to speak with her at all."
"We need to find her," Willum said grimly. "Is she still in the castle?"
"I believe so; I'm not sure where." Her face was troubled. "Kai-"
"I know." He was deathly pale. "It's happening again, Gerda. But much fiercer and farther-reaching."
"We have to find Elsa before she leaves the palace," said the bishop. "Where would she have gone?"
"I don't know. Perhaps she became tired of being alone and went to her sister's room?" Gerda suggested.
"As good a start as any. Let's go." The pair of servants quickly followed after the bishop, their quick footsteps echoing through the halls.
Elsa had made her way to the picture room by the time she finally cooled down. The nerve of the king! Furious as she was with Hans, she realized that he had been honest, at least, of his brothers' opinions of him. She recalled the way the trio of his elder siblings had mocked him at the ball, not to mention how carelessly Balthazar had struck him in the study, and wondered how she could have forgotten it. Whatever the youngest prince's faults, and deceit was among them, he hadn't lied about their treatment of him; she had seen proof of it with her own two eyes.
Still, was she really one to feel so indignant? Especially after that morning…her stomach twisted uncomfortably at the thought of what had happened in the chapel. But then, they were his brothers, and she was the Queen whom he had betrayed—not once, but twice now! And his magic—how in the world did he have magic? It didn't make any sense; she'd never heard of anyone else having this sort of abilities, let alone him, of all people. Elsa didn't believe in coincidences; no, what had happened in the chapel was planned, she was sure of it, but why? Why had he come here, both now and all those months ago? Why try to kill her now, after so many golden opportunities? Why hide his magic and pretend to be repentant, only to reveal his true colors at the most inopportune moment? Why? Why?
"Heya, Elsa!" The cheerful voice startled her, drawing her attention back to the present, and she saw Olaf waddling towards her, accompanied by his signature flurry.
"Olaf," she said, with obvious relief. "Thank goodness; I thought it might be—someone else."
"Nope, just me," he said with a grin. Then, he frowned. "Hey, I saw some guards leading King Agnar out of the castle. What happened? Are you okay?"
"Oh, that," Elsa sighed. "I had them escort him out. He won't be staying here anymore." She decided to leave the reasons as to why unstated.
"Gee, that's sad; I was hoping we could be friends. He doesn't seem to have very many, except for that creepy ice lady."
Elsa's eyes went wide, and she looked down. "Olaf, what did you just say?"
"I said, 'Gee, that's sad; I was hoping we-'"
"No, the part about the ice lady."
"Oh, her. Yeah, she was weird. She looked like you, but she wasn't." He said this all very emphatically, as if the thought that anyone other than Elsa could have ice powers was astounding.
Which it was. Elsa was astounded, anyway. She quickly knelt down in front of him. "Olaf," she said seriously, "Are you certain that you saw King Agnar talking to a woman who looked like she could have ice magic?"
"Yeah, why?"
The wave of guilt suddenly washed over her again, and Elsa felt herself go pale. "Oh no," she breathed.
"What's wrong?" Olaf said, suddenly panicking. "Are you sick? Are you hurt? Don't worry, Elsa, I'll go for help!" He turned as if to hurry away as fast as his little legs could carry him.
"No, no, I'm alright, I jus–" She pressed a hand to her temple, distressed. "Oh, Olaf, I think I've made a terrible mistake!"
"Why? What did you do?" he said curiously.
Her mind was whirling. If it's true— "Come on, Olaf," she said anxiously, standing up. "We've got to find Anna."
"Hooray!" the snowman cried as his creator turned sharply back the way she'd come, clearly oblivious to the gravity of the situation. "Let's go find Anna!" He skipped off down the hallway after her, trying to keep up with the Queen's hurried pace.
Though monarchs weren't supposed to run, Elsa was nearly tripping over her dress by the time she reached the royal chambers' hallway. Just as they rounded the corner to Anna's room, Elsa stopped suddenly. Olaf didn't notice she'd quit walking until he bumped headlong into a woman's skirt.
"Oh! Olaf, I'm sorry!" Gerda said, hastily taking a step back. Then, "Queen Elsa, thank goodness you're still here! We need to speak with you!" Kai and Willum nodded urgently behind her.
"I'll be able to help you shortly, but right now I have something I need to do," Elsa told them firmly.
"Hey, has anyone seen Anna?" a voice asked, and Elsa looked beyond the trio to see Kristoff quickly coming up the hall.
"I'm looking for her right now," Elsa assured him.
"I'm right here; what's going on?" a voice demanded, and Anna came out of her bedroom.
"Prince Hans was telling the truth," Elsa, Kai, Gerda and Willum all said at the exact same moment. Then they looked at each other and said, "Wait, what?"
"How did you know Hans was telling the truth?" Willum said, brows furrowed.
"Olaf just told me; how did you know?"
The three glanced at each other, and then Kai said, "Your Majesty, if you could come with us, we might be able to clear up this matter. Princess, Sir Kristoff, you should come as well."
"Where are we going?" Anna asked, as all seven quickly set off down the hall.
"To have a long-overdue discussion."
The great hall seemed eerily quiet without half the village lodging in it. It felt strange to Elsa, who rarely visited it unless there was a ball happening—or a natural disaster, as it were. The silence was making her feel incredibly unnerved, or perhaps it was simply the astounding events of the day, coupled with the alarmingly grave way in which the bishop and her head servants were acting. She waited as patiently as she was able while Kai made very certain that the doors and windows locked tight. By the time he'd finally rejoined the rest of the group around the thrones, she found she'd run out of patience. "Would someone please tell me what in the world is going on?" she demanded.
The trio looked at each other, as if unsure who should speak first. "M'lady," Gerda said uncomfortably. "I think it may be time to tell you something…something we should have told you a long time ago."
"Tell me? Tell me what?" Elsa said, frowning deeply.
They glanced at each other again, and Elsa felt her frustration grow—along with her migraine. Kai sighed lowly. "Your Majesty, you may want to sit down."
Although she wanted to object, Elsa took a seat in her throne. Anna and Kristoff stood off to the side, each as confused as the queen. "So…you guys know why Hans suddenly has magic fire powers?" Anna questioned.
"We may," Willum admitted with a sigh tinged with guilt. "Queen Elsa…have you ever heard the legend of the Devil's Mirror?"
"Of course," she said, baffled. "Everyone has: In times long gone and times long past, the Devil's work created glass of kind and nature most profane. Mama used to tell it to us when we were little."
Willum grimaced. "Your Majesty…the legend is not a legend."
Elsa, Kristoff and Anna all stared. Anna was the first to break the silence. "Wait, what?"
"The stories are true," Gerda explained. "At least, as far as we know. The Snow Queen is not a myth, she is very real. A peasant girl tricked by Evil into collecting the many shards of the broken mirror."
"But that's impossible; those stories are hundreds of years old!" Elsa argued.
"Indeed they are," Willum agreed tiredly. "If the legends are accurate, then the Snow Queen could easily be nearly a thousand years of age."
Elsa stared at them. "Have you all gone insane?" she demanded. "They're—they're stories, simple fairy tales! Nursery rhymes for children! What do they have to do with anything that's happened today?"
"We're not insane, m'Lady," Gerda said heavily. "The Snow Queen does exist, and we have good reason to believe those stories have everything to do with what's happened today."
"And how would you know?" Elsa said irritably.
Gerda glanced at Kai and gave him gentle squeeze of the hand. The manservant took a deep breath. "We know, your Majesty…because we have seen her."
Elsa's mouth dropped open. "What?"
"When I was a boy, a piece of the mirror became lodged in my eye," Kai continued, albeit with difficulty. "The Snow Queen kidnapped me and took me to her palace, but Gerda came after me and rescued me. When we returned home to Arendelle, I thought that was the last we'd ever see of her."
"But we were wrong," Gerda said with regret. "The Queen, your mother, took us on as help when you were born. I, as your nursemaid, was entrusted with your protection. M'lady…I beg your forgiveness. I failed you."
Elsa's mouth was still open, but she didn't seem able to speak. Gerda continued sadly, "I turned away for only a moment, but in that time, the Snow Queen entered your nursery and pierced you with a shard from the mirror. That was what gave you your powers."
"My powers?" she whispered. As if summoned by the words, frost began to creep up along the arms of her throne.
"That shard has remained inside you always, giving you the abilities you possess," Willum concluded. "I imagine the prince's story is similar."
"How– why–" She struggled to form a coherent thought, getting to her feet. Frost was spreading up the walls; snow was beginning to drift down. "This can't be true. You're lying–"
"Your Majesty, please, see sense!" the bishop said emphatically. "Hasn't everything we've said, everything that's happened—why, everything you yourself have ever known!—doesn't it all fit?"
"No," she said, shaking her head wildly. "Papa—Papa said I was born with these powers. He told me so himself."
"We wanted to tell you the truth, m'lady, but your parents forbade us," said Gerda unhappily. "Your father made us swear an oath."
"Y-you're wrong. Papa—he wouldn't do that." Conceal. Don't feel. You're losing control again!
"Why would our parents lie to us?" Anna demanded.
"They were only trying to protect you," said Kai wearily.
"Protect me?! Protect me from what?!" Elsa shouted, finally losing her temper. Icicles shot out from her hands, covering the floor around her, and she only grew angrier at the sight. "From that?" she cried, pointing towards the ice. "From myself? What did he think that would accomplish? Did they think I would grow up believing I was normal, that I wasn't cursed?"
"M'lady, please," Gerda begged.
"Well that didn't exactly work out, now did it?!" she demanded furiously, gesturing around to the ice-covered hall. "I froze over the entire kingdom, nearly killed my own sister, went my whole life being lied to—for what?!"
"Your Majesty–" Kai began, but she cut him off.
"No! I've heard enough. Don't talk to me, any of you!" She turned to go, ice sprouting with each footstep.
"Elsa, please, just listen to them!" Anna pleaded
The Queen swept out of the room, icicles shooting through the cracks between the doors as she slammed them shut. The snow in the air drifted to the ground, falling lightly on the arms and heads of the rest of the group.
"Well," Kristoff remarked, speaking for the first time since the conversation had begun. "That could have gone better."