Chapter Thirty-Two
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.
A/N: To the commenter who keeps leaving their own chapters in my reviews: I'm sorry to keep deleting them, but a comment section is generally not the best place to post a new story. Why not make an account of your own here on the site? That way other readers would be able to read your story and leave comments and reviews. :)
To the commenter who seems confused by the differences between Elsa and the Snow Queen: Elsa is the lovable ice-casting monarch we all know and love from the franchise; the Snow Queen is the original antagonist from Hans Christian Andersen's fairytale "The Snow Queen," and in this story she serves as the villain and the sorceress who gave Elsa and Hans their magic. I hope that clears things up.
Also: Merry Christmas, everyone! I hope you enjoy the chapter!
Anna tapped quietly on the door, and then gently pushed it open when she received no answer.
Elsa was exactly where she'd expected her to be: on the bench beneath the portrait of St. Jeanne d'Arc. After finding that her elder sister was not in her room, Anna had gone to the one place she herself had always sought refuge from her loneliness: that was, the picture room. Snowdrifts had appeared all around against the walls, and ice had coated the bench on which Elsa was sitting.
The queen didn't look up as her sister approached, but instead remained curled up in her seat, hugging her legs with her face buried in her knees. Anna sat down quietly beside her, and Elsa glanced over briefly through red-rimmed eyes as she realized the presence of another human being, before going back to her quiet crying.
For a long time, they sat in silence, before Anna finally decided to brave the unknown. She was just opening her mouth to speak when Elsa mumbled, "You shouldn't be in here; you might catch cold."
"I don't mind it." She looked around at the snowflakes hanging in the frozen air. "It's actually sort of pretty."
"It's a curse," Elsa said bitterly.
"Yeah, maybe," Anna agreed. "But…I don't know, sometimes good things can come out of bad things, can't they?"
Elsa didn't answer. Anna bit her lip, trying to find some way to get through to her. She glanced up at Joan, and suddenly, inspiration struck. "You know, I always really liked this painting."
"W-what?" Elsa stammered hoarsely, looking over.
"Yeah. She was my favorite one to talk to when I was a kid. I mean, not that she ever talked back, but that's beside the point." She looked over at her older sister and said, "She reminded me of you."
Elsa didn't answer to that, instead staring wordlessly ahead. Anna decided to continue. "I asked her once why my big sister had shut me out for so long, and what I should do to make her open up again." Anna looked up at the painting. "Joan didn't answer, of course, but she didn't really have to; I got the message."
"And what was that?" Elsa asked dully.
"That sometimes, life gives us battles, and we don't always know why," Anna said simply. "But we can't just give up—because if we do, we've already lost. And so I never gave up on you."
Elsa looked over at her, stunned. "Anna…"
"I know now why you shut me out, even though I wish you hadn't. And it's the same reason Mama and Papa kept this from you for so long: because they loved you." Her blue-green eyes were serious and kind. "They did, Elsa, I promise you. They just didn't always go about it the right way."
Elsa said nothing for a long moment. Then, she put her feet down to the ground and sighed. "I know they loved me. I do," she said wearily. "I just—I don't understand. Why wouldn't they tell me? What good did they think it would do?"
Anna shrugged. "Sometimes when we really love somebody, we try so hard to make them happy that we don't always realize we're not doing what's best for them."
Elsa didn't respond to that, instead looking around the room miserably. "Anna…I don't know what to do."
"About what?"
"Me. This." She waved her hand, and a little spiral of snowflakes appeared. Elsa sighed. "I thought I'd finally found the answer. That I could…make beauty, out of this." Her eyes brimmed with sudden, hot tears. "But it turns out it's evil, and foul, and wrong. Just like I always thought."
But Anna reached out and took her hand. Elsa tried to pull away instinctively, but Anna gripped her fingers gently, forcing her sister to meet her eyes.
"Maybe it started out that way," Anna agreed. Elsa's blue eyes glittered with unshed tears. "Maybe this was a curse, back then. Maybe that's what the Snow Queen wanted it to be for you. But good things come out of bad all the time!" She looked dead into her sister's eyes and insisted: "The curse didn't beat you, Elsa. You beat it. You beat it so far that you turned into a good thing!" She grinned. "And I bet that's the last thing the Snow Queen wanted!"
Her smile, as always, was infectuous. Elsa gave a watery smile back. "Love will thaw?"
"Exactly."
Elsa wiped her eyes with a chuckle. "So," she said, looking around the room. "Now what?"
"Well…" Anna said carefully. "You did kind of run out on us… maybe you should give the others a chance to explain things a little better."
Elsa nodded and got to her feet, a little shakily. "Thank you," she told Anna. "For coming after me, I mean."
Anna grinned and stood. "I'll never stop coming after you, Elsa; don't ever forget that."
The queen gave a choked laugh and pulled her into a hug. "I know."
The bishop, footman and housekeeper all looked over as the doors to the throne room opened again, and Elsa walked in with Anna at her side, red-eyed but seeming more at peace than before. "First off, I want to apologize," she said, before any of them could speak. "I didn't really give any of you much chance to explain things."
"The apology is entirely ours," Willum answered, with sincere regret in his voice. "You must understand, Elsa, we swore an oath to your father that we'd take this to our graves. I know that's hardly an excuse, but we—none of us—knew what to do. There were so many times we wanted to tell you…"
"I know. And I understand why you felt you couldn't," Elsa said graciously, sitting down again in her throne. "What's done is done; there's no point in dwelling on the past."
Kai exhaled in relief as Gerda said gratefully, "Thank you, m'Lady. We are all indebted to your kindness."
"You said Mama and Papa were trying to protect me," Elsa questioned. "Protect me from what, exactly?"
"Your parents wanted you to accept your powers without question," the bishop surmised. "They were afraid if you knew they came from an actual curse, you would go off on your own looking for answers, falling in with sorcerers and magicians, dangerous people—or worse, that you might seek out the Snow Queen herself and ask her to take the curse away. However difficult it may have been, both you and Arendelle were safer with the shard in your hands than in hers."
"If she's searching for the shards, why would she give me one in the first place?" Elsa pointed out.
"I don't remember much from the days when I was imprisoned, but I do remember that the pieces of the mirror are drawn to each other," Kai answered. "It seems she wanted a walking agent in a position of power, therefore all the more likely to come into contact with other shards and collect them."
"Seeing as how I rarely left the castle until now, that didn't turn out as planned," the Queen reasoned. "But why hasn't she come after me now to get it back?"
"She couldn't. When your father locked the gates, he made the wise decision to build a chapel within the palace walls," Willum explained. "Due to that, the whole castle became sanctified territory—an effect for which we are very lucky. Nor did she account for the power of a child's baptism," he reminded her. "The graces conferred are many and vast, but they did expel the darkness the shard brought to your heart."
"So this…isn't evil?" Elsa asked cautiously.
"No, not anymore. Power isn't inherently evil, your Majesty; at your baptism, the fragment of the Devil's Mirror was purified from its unholy taint, and you were left with innocent magic—difficult, I daresay, for a mere human to manage, but not inherently corrupt."
"Corrupt? What do you mean, corrupt?" Anna interjected.
"Ordinarily, the pieces of the Devi's Mirror carry an evil about them that turns the heart hard," said Kai grimly. "I myself became very cold, very bitter. It diminishes your freedom and willpower little by little, until you see no point in being good. Until now, I assumed there was only one sort of shard, those fashioned after ice—but the events of today have proved me wrong."
"You mean Hans…?" Elsa said, her eyes widening.
"That is what we suspect, yes," Gerda agreed. "We think he may have been cursed by the Snow Queen, much as you were, your Majesty."
"He was saying something like that when we were up by the altar," Kristoff remembered. "It could be possible."
"Alright, so let's assume for a moment that Hans was telling the truth," Elsa said, rubbing her temples. "How does King Agnar fit into all this? I highly doubt that all this happening at once is a coincidence."
"King Agnar?" Gerda said, confused.
"He was the one who blackmailed Hans into proposing, on threat of war," Elsa explained. "The whole engagement has been an act."
"My goodness," Gerda murmured, looking startled. "And none of us guessed a thing…"
"Willum knew," Elsa corrected. "He's known since nearly the beginning."
"Well for goodness' sake, Willum, why didn't you say anything?" Kai demanded, aghast.
"He couldn't; Hans told it to him under strict confidence," Elsa explained. "We thought the less people who knew, the lower the risk; now I'm not so sure it helped at all."
"If the legends are all true, then the mirror was forged from hatred," Willum supplied. "It would make sense, then, that hatred would serve to draw the pieces closer together. Could the Southern King and the Snow Queen have been collaborating toward that end?"
"If the Snow Queen and King Agnar were working together, forcing Hans and I into an arranged betrothal could have created that sort of anger and tension," Elsa said, frowning in concentration. "Their plan backfired when Hans and I pretended to go along with the marriage, so she must have instigated the blizzard to cause further distress."
"But that still doesn't explain Hans's powers," Anna pointed out.
"He said that she cursed him, but with what Kai and Gerda said, there should have been some sort of indication, some sort of–" She stopped suddenly. "His hair. Of course."
"What about his hair?" the princess said, confused.
"He's the only redhead, haven't you noticed? All his brothers have brown hair—all except him. Perhaps he's been like this ever since he was a child."
"So he lied?" Kristoff questioned.
"No, I don't think so. I don't think he even knew. He said his father always made him and his brothers wear gloves, and-"
"His brothers!" Anna exclaimed suddenly. "His brothers all shut him out for no good reason, he told me so himself!"
"I as well. Perhaps they all knew–"
"And he didn't," everyone else finished at the same time.
They all fell silent as this sunk in. "Well, as far as I can see," said Willum frankly, "this is all still speculation, and there's only one way to solve this convoluted mess: one of us has to talk to Hans."
A pregnant pause filled the air, before Elsa sighed. "I'll do it. If we're wrong about any of this, then Hans could theoretically still be out to kill us. I'm the only one who can handle him."
"We don't know if he's even awake yet," Anna said, frowning. "You froze him pretty strong."
"Then I'll wait until tomorrow, at least. I'm glad now I didn't agree to execute him."
"What?" several of them said at once.
Elsa realized she'd neglected to tell them about what the Southern king had proposed. "Agnar wanted me to execute Hans—today, actually. If he's working with the Snow Queen, then–" She stopped. "Oh, no."
"What?" Anna demanded.
She looked over at her sister, face pale. "King Agnar. I threw him out of the castle."
The settled snow and ice crunched under his boots as the Southern king made his way through the forest path. He came to a clearing that seemed familiar to him, but it was empty. He looked around as if searching for something.
"King Agnar."
He turned. The Snow Queen stood to his right, the red light of dusk glinting off her snowy cape like a thousand glowing sparks. "I can only assume that since you do not come with a smirk on your face, you have failed," she said coldly.
"Not entirely," he said, voice short and clipped. "I did find the third missing shard." He removed the silver box from his jacket and undid the clasp, removing the bluish fragment. The sorceress uncurled her snow-white hand, and he placed it into her palm. As soon as he relinquished it, she withdrew her fingers and tucked it safely away within her cloak.
"Your brother is not dead," she surmised.
His lip curled. "We overestimated the Queen. She is a greater fool than at first I thought."
"Obviously. That was an obstacle you were meant to overcome." He ground his teeth at her words but wisely remained silent. "However…you did not fail entirely. So my patience will endure. For now." She paced a few meters away. "Where is your brother now?"
"In the palace dungeons, your Majesty."
She snorted. "That was indeed foolish. If the Queen herself could break out of them in a moment of panic, certainly your brother will be able to do so, as well. And that is to our advantage."
"My Queen?" Agnar questioned, confused.
"I have concluded that attempting to make the Arendellian Queen kill him is a useless effort. She is of weak and simple mind, and weak and simple minds often falter at the opportune moment. I will have to convince Hans myself to hand over the shard, but first he needs to leave that blasted place. I can't imagine it'll take him long."
"Your Majesty," Agnar said, by now impatient, "Surely this is the time to allow me my part of our agreement! I have been banished from the castle; what else is there to wait for?"
"You are an impulsive man, King Agnar, though of course most men are," she replied dismissively. "One misstep could ruin all our efforts. You must wait until my orders, and then, and only then, will you be allowed to use the mirror's powers. Am I clear?"
He curled his hands into fists, but managed to bite back the retorts that rose to his lips. "You are…my Queen."
"Very good. Now: there is an abandoned cabin nearby, due north of this place. Wait there until you receive my notice. It should not take more than a day or two. And make haste; we wouldn't want you catching cold." With that, she walked off into the trees. A few moments later, Agnar heard the pounding tramp of horse's hooves.
Still smarting with fury, he started the long, chilly trek through the forest towards the north, muttering all the while.
"I thought I might find you up here."
Elsa looked over, startled. She was standing beside the rail in chapel's choir loft overlooking the rest of the church, which was still covered in fractured ice, marred here and there by scorch marks searing the floor and pews. Willum raised an eyebrow back, and the queen pursed her lips. "You came looking for me." It wasn't a question.
The bishop came over and sat down in the nearest pew. "How are you feeling?"
"Well, it's nice to know I haven't been dabbling in the occult for the last year and a half," his monarch answered dryly.
"Believe me, my queen, I would have informed you much sooner had that been the case." Elsa didn't reply. "You're angry with us," the bishop inferred.
"I'll get over it."
"Ahh. So, not with us, then."
Silence filled the chapel. Willum looked around the darkened church.
"You know," he murmured, "This is where I first found him, too. Seemed to think he wasn't worthy of sitting with the others."
Elsa sighed irritably, knowing to whom he had to be referring. "Willum, I really don't want to talk about this right now."
"Then why are you here?"
She didn't have an answer to that, and so she just looked back out at the vandalized sanctuary. Willum bit his tongue, and then said, "My Queen… I may just be an old bishop, but I think I know a broken and confused heart when I see one."
Her eyes flew wide in shock, and she looked over. "How did you-"
"To be quite frank, your Majesty, you've had a very long day, yet you're up at some unholy hour of the night, and as to the chapel—well, as they say, hell hath no fury." He gave her a rueful smile as he nodded towards the vandalized nave below, and Elsa flushed.
"What exactly am I supposed to do, Willum?" she demanded, visibly conflicted. "Forgive him? After what he's done?"
"Well, it would be the right thing to do," the bishop pointed out.
She looked back out to the empty church. "I know," she admitted softly "I know that, I just… I don't know how. After everything he's done to me, done to Anna… And yet…"
"And yet?" Willum prodded.
"And yet, he's done so many good things, too." She paused, and then shook her head and said angrily. "But that doesn't excuse the fact that he's a criminal! He tried to kill me, Willum! How am I supposed to forgive a man like that?"
"You are angry at him for trying to kill you?"
"Of course I am! What else would I be angry at him for?"
Willum fixed her with his steady gray gaze, and Elsa realized she was wrong. "No," she said honestly. "It's more than that. And it's more than what he did to Anna."
"He broke your trust somehow?"
She sat down in the pew beside him. "He saved me," she said softly. "When- when they came for me, in my ice palace… I fought back. I know everyone believes it was self-defense, and it was, but there was a point…a point when I almost crossed that line." Her pale hands were trembling; frost swirled across the hardwood floor. "I was—so angry, Willum. I was so furious with them for treating me like some sort of monster, that I almost became one."
"He stopped you," the bishop inferred gently.
Elsa nodded. "He saved my life… and saved me from myself." Those trembling hands curled into fists. "And then, on the fjord, he—he lied to me. He betrayed me. He made me believe again that I was evil, that I'd killed my own sister. That I was a monster. And I hate him for that, hate him enough that at the first, most illusory suggestion of betrayal, I- I tried to kill him." She buried her head in her hands and moaned, "What kind of a hypocrite am I?"
"Your anger towards him is linked with your anger towards yourself," said Willum sagely. "Sometimes it is our inability to forgive ourselves that makes it difficult to forgive those around us. We like to turn our attentions to the faults of others before our own. I don't say this to condemn you, my dear," he added, seeing how she looked at him in surprise, "but rather because I know I do the same thing myself. It's the human condition."
"I abandoned Arendelle when it needed me most. I hurt Anna, betrayed my people, turned my back on my sacred duties!" Her expression was wracked with distress. "I almost murdered two of my own citizens, people I swore to defend and protect. I broke the trust of everyone around me. If Hans isn't the villain in that story, then I am. And I—I don't want to face that."
His eyes were serious, yet understanding. "My Queen, if you ever want to move past this, you will have to reconcile yourself to the fact that sometimes, people do awful, terrible things. But that does not mean they are evil people."
Elsa had fallen silent. Willum hesitated a moment, and then said carefully, "Your Majesty… if I may be so bold, may I ask… do you care for him?"
"…Yes," she breathed, stunned by her own audacity. "Yes, I do, or I think I do, but—but I can't love him, Willum, I can't. There's a part of me that's still so angry with him, and I don't know what to do about it."
"Queen Elsa, we cannot always control what we feel, but we can control what we do about those feelings. Anger is an emotion, but hatred is a choice. And so, I'll remind you, is love. Love and hatred cannot coexist; eventually, one will overtake the other. Hatred enslaves us, and love sets us free."
"Which is stronger?"
He raised an eyebrow. "Well that, my dear, depends entirely on you."
The bishop's meaning was clear, and Elsa found she didn't have any reply. Willum smiled kindly and said, "Well, my Queen, I believe that's enough philosophy for tonight. If you would like me to treat this as a confidential manner…?"
"Yes, thank you," she said with relief. The bishop raised a hand, and she bowed her head as he murmured a brief prayer. When he had finished, both stood, and Willum said, "I suggest you get some rest and then go speak to the prince tomorrow, yes?"
She nodded grudgingly and got to her feet, as well. "That…sounds reasonable…I just wish it weren't so difficult."
"Well, humility is never easy, my dear, but it is worth it. Have a good rest of your evening."
"I'll try. Goodnight, Willum." She headed over to the staircase.
Just as she was about to descend the stairs, she heard him say, "Your Majesty… Elsa." The Queen turned, startled. Willum hesitated, and then said, "…Each of us carries a curse of some sort. Some are born sickly, or to impoverished families; others have quieter struggles of vanity, envy or anger… yours is more obvious than most, and more potent, but that doesn't change your good nature. Remember that you are not defined by the ice of your curse, but by the warmth of your heart."
Elsa managed to smile a little at that, as though a small portion of the weight had been lifted off her shoulders. "…Thank you, Willum." Without waiting another moment, she disappeared down the stairs into the nave below.
Hans let out a low sigh and stood up again, before sitting down once more for what felt like the millionth time in a row.
He couldn't help but appreciate the irony. Eighteen months ago, it had been Elsa sitting here, hands encased in iron. He raised a hand and looked at the cuffs. They'd been remade—why, he didn't know. Perhaps Elsa had been worried about losing control again. Perhaps she'd thought it useful to have such restraints around, just in case. In any event, it was certainly effective.
He shivered slightly and pulled his arms in closer around him. It was freezing in the cell, or perhaps he was just warm. That would make sense, he supposed, for a man with fire in his veins.
It seemed impossible. How could this have happened? The Snow Queen; she must have done this somehow, years and years ago. Cursed him…like Elsa was cursed? And the mirror shards had something to do with it all, myth and legend and bedtime stories come to life. This was all so baffling…not to mention terrifying. He remembered all too well what Elsa was capable of in a moment of panic; images of what a man like him could do with such a power flashed before his eyes, and he squeezed them shut tight, trying to stop the visions of burning villages and screaming peasants.
He had to get out. He had to leave, before he hurt anyone, especially Elsa. The fight in the church… that could have easily gone the other way. He could have won; he'd been trying to win, after all. I slipped back into the mold. Something in his mind had handed him back the familiar pattern of rage and ruthlessness, and it had fit like an old glove. And the look in her eyes…she'd called him a monster. He couldn't blame her.
Well, monster or not, one thing was for certain, and that was that he couldn't stay in the castle. Everyone certainly thought by now that he was as traitorous and malicious as he'd always been; if Elsa did agree to execute him, he'd never leave the town alive. A man with his abilities was dangerous; he would be noticed, followed. He had to go before he caused any real damage, and he had to find the Snow Queen, convince her to take back his curse. That was the only solution.
But first, he had to get free. If only he were out of these damned cuffs. He wondered how Elsa had gotten free; hadn't she shattered them? But no doubt she'd reinforced them for such purposes. Even so, ice would have been more helpful. It was certainly more constructive; how very fitting that his power was only destructive. Ice could create, create things of great beauty and wonder. What could fire do, save for burn and melt and-
Melt.
Of course. Everything had a melting point; the real question was if he could get his hands hot enough to liquefy solid iron. Was it even safe? How much heat could he handle? He'd never been burned before, but he had no desire to experience injuries the degree of sticking one's own flesh into a pot of boiling metal. Still, it was worth a shot.
He closed his eyes again and concentrated as hard as he could, unsure if it would even work. However, he felt a slight tingling in his fingertips, and the barest traces of heat, so he suspected it was working.
Hans focused even harder, gritting his teeth. The heat grew, but it did not harm him—in fact, it felt good. Hotter and hotter still, until he was sure it would harm a normal human being, but he felt no pain, only pleasant warmth.
The cuffs seemed to be growing tighter on the inside and larger on the outside; the metal must have been expanding. It began to glow, cherry-red at first, then bronze-gold. The molten iron began to fall off in great globs, hissing as it struck the cold stone floor and cracking it with sharp pops! He could see the flames around his hands now, glowing bright and dancing, hungry for something to feed on.
Quickly, he hurried to the window and pressed his hands against the glass. It melted easily, and he made a hole large enough to step through. Once he had, he extinguished the flames by releasing the force of will that had kept them alive. The fire vanished, and the icy chill of December returned.
He touched the side of his suit-coat and was pleased to find that it left no scorch; apparently his hands had cooled at will. Okay. This is easier than it looks, at least. Picking up his sword and re-sheathing it, he clambered through the hole, out of the prison cell and into the world beyond. For a brief moment, something welled up inside him, deep and melancholy. He'd come, somehow, to think of the palace as a home, even in the short time he'd been there.
A home? He snorted, chastising himself internally. Sentimentalism was not an ally tonight; he needed to go, now, before someone realized he was missing.
He stepped forward onto the crunching snow, and then paused and looked back. On the floor of the cell, his silver crown glimmered dully in the dim light. He looked up at the castle towers.
You'd be good at it. This is what you were born for. Everything you want is right here…
"I can hear you," he said aloud. No wordless voice answered back. It didn't have to. "I know what you are now. You won't get me that easily."
Without wasting another moment, the prince turned his back and fled into the night.
Elsa sighed. The halls were empty so late in the night, and she paced them alone. Despite Willum's wise counsel, she found she couldn't sleep a wink, tossing and turning restlessly as she thought about what she had to do until she'd given up and taken to wandering the castle.
She'd been so quick to condemn Hans there in the chapel—too quick, she knew, if she were being honest with herself. And although she didn't want to admit it, she knew Willum was right about the reason why.
It was going to be…painful, to say the least, to admit she'd been wrong, especially admitting it to his face. She ground her teeth, imagining his smugly raised eyebrows and sardonic, "You don't say?" as she acknowledged how mistaken she'd been. It just didn't seem fair, she fumed. After everything he'd done, why should she have to apologize to him for anything?
…But in the end, she knew, they were not all that different. They both knew what it was like to… to feel monstrous. They'd both nearly done something unspeakably awful. They'd both been stopped. How could Elsa possibly condemn him and yet pardon herself? It was hypocrisy, the worst sort. It was beneath her. It was just plain wrong.
But it was just so difficult to face the truth.
Sighing, she to a nearby window, looking out as the northern lights danced over her frozen country. Green light flared and was flanked by rose. And then, of course, there was love. Once blame and guilt were out of the way, love would come easier still. And what was she supposed to do with that? They had history, literal, textbook history. There were no two ways around it: any courtship between them was going to be messy, both politically and emotionally. And Anna…how could she explain this to Anna?
At the edges of the empty streets, the prince paused and looked up into the same sky. The ice in the air seemed to sing, and his bare hands stung with cold. The flames slowly crept along his reddening fingers.
Ah-ah, oh-oh…
Love. That was dangerous magic, all on its own.
Ah-ah, oh-oh, oh-oh…
"I can hear you," he muttered, stalking forward, "but I won't."
"Some look for trouble." She sparked a snowflake. "While others others don't."
"There's a thousand reasons I should go about my way–"
"–And ignore your whispers, which I wish would go away."
"Oh-oh-oh."
Ah-ah, oh-oh
The crocus flags of Arendelle were flying at his back. He ignored them.
"Oh-oh…"
Ah-ah, oh-oh
She stalked through the halls. "You're not a voice," she insisted.
The flames guttered from between his clenched fingers. "You're just a ringing in my ear.
And if I heard you—which I don't—"
"—I'm spoken for, I fear." The family portrait of herself, Anna and Kristoff loomed in front of her. "Everyone I've ever loved is here within these walls."
"So sorry, secret siren, but I'm blocking out your calls!"
"I've had my adventure, I don't need something new. I'm afraid of what I'm risking if I'd follow you–"
A fiery hand caught his shoulder.
"Into the unknown!"
The forest was filled with familiar figures of flame.
"Into the unknown!"
Ice fractaled beneath her running feet.
"Into the unknown!"
The Elsa-figure touched his cheek with a wry smile. He stared—and then drew his sword.
Ah-ah, oh-oh
She slammed the door behind her as snow spiraled.
Ah-ah, oh-oh,
The Elsa-figure smiled a jagged smile, flared—and revealed a wicked youth in a crown.
Oh, oh…
"What do you want?" She paced to the window; it frosted where she touched it. "'Cause you've been keeping me awake."
"Are you here to distract me so I make a big mistake?" He shook off the fiery hands that caught at his coat.
"Or are you someone out there," she turned, "who's a little bit like me?"
"Who knows deep down," the sword flashed, "I'm not who I'm meant to be?"
"Every day's a little harder–" The snow swirled faster, "as I feel this power grow."
He pleaded with them: "Don't you know there's part of me that longs to go–"
"Into the unknown!" The road flanked with flaming pews; the bishop and his queen waited with his crown.
"Into the unknown!" The snowy figure spun her around as she laughed.
"Into the unknown!"
They ran.
Ah-ah, oh-oh
Ah-ah, oh-oh
"Oh-oh-oh!"
He slashed through. "Are you out there?"
She flung the door. "Do you know me?"
"Do you hear me?"
"Will you show me?"
Ah-ah, oh-oh
Ah-ah, oh-oh
Rosemåling frost chased after her as she raced through the halls.
Ah-ah, oh-oh
Ah-ah, oh-oh
Adulating faces pursued.
Oh-oh, oh-oh
A slipper was lost on the stairs.
Oh-oh, oh-oh
He lost his sword to the snow.
Oh-oh, oh-oh
Oh-oh, oh-oh
"It burns here inside, somehow I've always known! How do I follow you–"
She wrenched open the cell door.
"Into the unknown!"
Elsa stood and stared in shock, her nightdress fluttering in the chill from the broken window into the empty cell.
(Oh-oh-oh…)
A/N: I wasn't sure about substituting "Into the Unknown" for the flight song, as you might remember it was a version of "Let it Go" in the original upload of this story; however, I think it worked.
Merry Christmas again! I'll be uploading four chapters today for the holiday! God bless you all, and pax et bonum!