Hans sat on a red, decorative couch in the upper reaches of the castle. It was a room he was familiar with, the very library in which he'd left Anna to die, but this wasn't the subject of his consideration. He sat bent over, head in hands as the dim glow of the candles faded, filling the corners with murky shadows, the light of the moon not strong enough to dispel the darkness creeping along the walls. The fire cackled in the fireplace, consuming most of its fuel as it radiated a faint glow, and though the embers were still hot the heat didn't reach Hans. He felt a coldness that no fire could allay, for it wasn't the temperature which froze his blood.

He'd decided not to attend the execution. It wasn't a decision he'd made lightly, in fact, he grappled with it all afternoon and well into the evening. He'd always been a decisive man of action, so to be tormented by indecision was a strange feeling. Eventually, he reached a conclusion which both satisfied and disappointed him at the same time.

Yet, resolving the matter in his mind had done nothing to alleviate the coldness within him. He'd spent much of his life waiting for this moment, preparing and planning, taking every precaution, and he'd never once contemplated giving up, even though so many things had gone wrong. It was his dream to sit on the throne, a lifelong desire which his mother had ingrained in him since he was a child. In those dreams he was kneeling before a throng of cheering people, his head bowed, his face beaming as the jewel-encrusted crown was lowered onto his head. He'd worked so hard to achieve that dream, given up every other pursuit to see its fulfilment, and now, to plan to receive the crown in a private ceremony with no witnesses, it was almost unthinkable.

But the alternative was worse.

His mother orchestrated the death of his father, murdering him along with his brothers, casting them aside as if they meant nothing. He loved his father, and though he wasn't as fond of his brothers they were still family and shared the same blood. They deserved to be protected, not slaughtered like animals.

When the report of their deaths reached him he was devastated. It was one of the few times in his life he felt crippled by anxiety and overwhelmed by sadness. And to think his own mother was to blame.

No matter how strong his desire to be crowned king before all the people, his contempt for his mother was stronger. He wouldn't support her, couldn't support her. He couldn't even stand the idea of sharing the same space with her. After she finished deposing Elsa he'd send her back to the Southern Isles and let the people she betrayed decide her fate.

This day should've been the highlight of his life. Instead, he'd locked himself in the library and was sitting on the corner of the same couch where he'd lain Anna over a year ago. How appropriate, for he felt like he was dying now.

The similarity between his betrayal of Anna and his mother's betrayal of his father wasn't lost on him, but this didn't excuse her actions. There were lines you don't cross and his mother had crossed them, purposefully, and without regret. You don't murder the ones you're supposed to protect. Period.

She should've known that. He assumed she would've respected that even if she didn't agree with it, but he was wrong. This made him question everything he knew about his mother. He'd spent his entire life with her and felt like he didn't know her at all. It was an odd feeling, realizing he'd been forsaken by the only person he had in the world. He felt abandoned, betrayed, and alone.

And he was missing his own coronation.

He stood up and brushed the wrinkles out of his jacket, went to the door and grabbed the handle. He stood there for a moment before letting go and walking back to the couch. He sat down, put his head in his hands, then stood up and went back to the door. This time he opened it, went down the hall and entered a room which had a balcony overlooking the courtyard. He opened the double paned glass doors and stepped out onto the small square platform, leaning on the railing that framed the entrance. The full moon hung low upon the horizon, casting a yellowish hue across the cloudless sky. It shone down on a crowd of people who'd gathered in the courtyard, a group of townsfolk composed of young and old, men and women. Had all of Arendelle come, though? The group was smaller than he expected, filling only half the courtyard, but perhaps that was everyone who remained. They'd responded to the invitation, though, and that's what mattered. And why shouldn't they? They were battered and broken by this drought and had been promised relief, a solution to their woes.

The people seemed restless, shifting back and forth like a sea of rolling waves. Torches burned upon tall sconces scattered about the courtyard, creating small islands of empty space and casting shadows which danced on the cobblestone floor.

The soft roar of whispers drifted through the courtyard, wafting up to Hans where they dissipated into indiscernible murmurs. Many appeared confused, others intrigued as they pushed closer to a stage which stood at the head of the crowd, between them and the castle steps.

The stage had been constructed in haste, and it showed. It was a makeshift raised platform cobbled together with old pieces of wood and partially covered with red velvet carpet. Or were they curtains made to look like carpet? He wasn't sure, but his mother tried to make it appear as regal as possible. It was a failed effort, he thought, looking instead like the raggedy stage of some down on his luck musician.

Tobias stood alone near the front corner of the platform, and except for a single pole which rose like a finger from the opposite side, the stage was empty. The scribe was nervous, his head craning between the crowd, which was growing impatient, and the castle doors, which stood open behind him. Whatever he was waiting for didn't appear for a long time, and Hans half expected some of the people to leave out of boredom and return to their homes. But they didn't. They may be growing impatient, but their curiosity was stronger than their restlessness. Still, a voice rose from somewhere in the crowd, demanding an explanation.

"What are we doing here?"

"Please," Tobias responded, "be patient. All will be explained soon."

He stepped away from the front of the stage, as if this would protect him from any uprising by unruly patrons, and stared at the open double doors.

At that moment his mother emerged from the castle and a hush spread through the crowd. No one moved or spoke as Maren stepped onto the stage. She wore a light green dress which complimented her form, a dress Hans had never seen before, and he wondered if she'd stolen it from Elsa. Her blonde hair was made up into a bun, the streaks of gray making tight swirls as they curled in on themselves.

Hans felt a pang of jealousy as he watched her from his perch. That should be him down there, and he felt the bile of anger rising up. But he swallowed it down, tired of wasting his time and energy fretting over his mother. She'd be gone soon, and that's all that mattered.

The people broke their silence and started whispering again, some pointing at the unfamiliar woman standing on the stage.

"My good people," Tobias said, but his voice was weak and didn't draw anyone's attention. So he raised his arms and repeated his greeting, more forcefully. "My good people!"

He got their attention and as the people went silent their anticipation grew.

"I know you must all be wondering why you've been called here, but I promise it hasn't been in vain. I wish to introduce to you someone very special, someone who has traveled a long way in order to be here with us this evening. I wish to introduce to you Maren, the Queen of the Southern Isles."

There was a smattering of applause, but few joined in and it died as quickly as it started. The introduction sent the people into a hushed chatter and Tobias raised his arms to quiet them again.

"She's heard of our plight and has agreed to do everything in her power to help save Arendelle, but I will allow her to speak for herself. I give you…" he paused, extending his arm, "…Queen Maren!"

There was another spate of unenthusiastic clapping, but the majority didn't follow. Maren stepped to the edge of the stage, smiling as she gave a bow.

"People of Arendelle," Mare said with a smile.

She was giddy, Hans could see that, barely able to contain herself. A ripple of jealousy passed through him again.

"I am delighted to be here. I've longed to see your kingdom for some time, as many have reported on its beauty and majesty. As the Queen of the Southern Isles I must admit I was jealous of Arendelle, that people from every corner of the sea spoke so highly of your glory and splendor."

Never start with the negative, she'd taught him that. Establish common ground, show an interest in your subject and get them to see you in a positive light, to trust you, and once you had their trust you had everything you needed. She was working the crowd, and she was a master at it.

Maren's smile faded.

"It makes me sad to see your splendor tarnished. Your suffering has come to be known throughout all the royal realms, including the Southern Isles. People no longer talk about Arendelle's glory, they speak only of a kingdom in peril, a kingdom once plunged into an eternal winter that now grapples with the most devastating drought any land has ever seen.

"When I first heard of it I didn't realize the extent of your ordeal, but after I was informed of the intensity of your suffering my heart moved me to send you water and supplies to help you endure this terrible tragedy. But it wasn't enough, not for me, to sit idly by whilst knowing this tragedy would only continue. And so I've chosen to join you here in your wonderful kingdom, and I won't leave until Arendelle's been brought back to its former beauty."

There was applause, and this time more people joined in, over half the crowd by Hans' estimate. It was working, she was gaining their trust, and she'd need all the trust she could get for what she was planning.

"I say former beauty, and yet that beauty hasn't been entirely lost. Even while withering under the cruel hand of this drought, the remnants of better days is undeniable. It's my intention to restore Arendelle's beauty, once for all time."

Once again, there was applause.

"However, it won't be an easy road to travel. Never before has a country endured such a painful and merciless drought, and now you are again buried under an unnatural winter that threatens to freeze the life out of you. I asked myself, how could one kingdom suffer so much? How could one kingdom be forced to endure such a terrible series of awful tragedies?

"I realized it was no chance occurrence, that something more sinister was behind the suffering of your kingdom."

The crowd's interest was fully captured now and they pressed closer to the stage, the ones furthest away squeezing in tight, compressing the people in front.

Hans shook his head as he watched his mother manipulating the crowd, and he realized she'd been manipulating him his entire life. He'd imagined his mother always wanted what was best for him, that she wouldn't be satisfied unless she saw him sitting as king upon the throne of some kingdom. But it was never about him. As he watched her standing before the admiring throng and soaking up every drop of their adoration, it was clear she wanted to be queen, and she'd used him as a tool, a puppet to acquire what she wanted.

The thought of it made him sick. Everything he'd ever known was a lie, and the only person in the world he'd been close to exploited him for their own advantage. He was filled with emotions he'd never felt, and he clutched the railing of the balcony to steady himself.

"I was shocked," Maren continued, "to discover your own queen, the one sworn to protect you, had used her powers to destroy the very kingdom she ruled. What loving queen would cause her people to suffer, to sentence them to a slow and miserable death?"

There were some boos from the crowd, but Maren ignored them.

"Knowing as I do that your search for water has been unsuccessful, and knowing that Arendelle has only a few weeks of water remaining, I was quite frankly enraged with your queen. You deserve better, you deserve to live a life free from suffering!

"I confronted Queen Elsa and tried to get her to undo the curse she put upon the land—"

"Arendelle is not cursed!" someone yelled, and a few others responded with words of support to affirm this. Hans thought his mother appeared a little unsettled, but she continued, raising her voice to be heard over the restless crowd.

"…but she refused to listen to my words. She cast me out of the castle and banished me back to my homeland telling me never to return."

"You're lying!" a woman cried out and the rest of the people broke into a frenzy of chatter. Tobias stepped forward with his hands raised.

"What Queen Maren says is true! Just look around us. We're all freezing to death!"

There was a mixed reaction from the crowd, some objecting with "Down with Tobias!" and others trying to hush the opposers. A few left the courtyard in disgust and headed back to their homes. Maren waited while the people argued amongst themselves, making no attempt to silence them. After a while they grew quiet, all eyes returning to the woman on the stage.

"I can see you're conflicted over this most regrettable series of events. That's understandable. It's not easy to admit your queen hasn't had your best interests at heart. But she is no friend to Arendelle. Quite to the contrary, she's the cause of all your suffering, from the drought to the eternal winter. You must ask yourself one question: if it was someone other than the queen that was doing this to Arendelle, what would you do to stop them? How far would you be willing to go to save your kingdom from destruction? Do not let your misguided love for your queen blind you to the facts. If she isn't stopped, every one of you will be forced to either flee Arendelle or die a cold, miserable death."

There was silence from the crowd as they seemed to digest such a dire ultimatum. While they were contemplating Maren's words, Jakob and Karl emerged from the castle with Elsa held between them, her hands shackled before her. The crowd gasped when they saw it. She looked nothing like the queen they knew but had the appearance of a criminal, a prisoner in the hands of the guards as they walked her onto the stage.

However, one could hardly call what she was doing walking. She was practically being dragged by the guards, her feet making small stepping motions in an attempt to keep up, her head bowed, lolling on sagging shoulders.

Probably drugged, Hans thought.

The silence of the courtyard was broken by the shrill call of an angry woman.

"What are you doing with our queen?"

The crowd responded with loud, anxious calls that made them sound like a flock of angry geese. Jakob and Karl led Elsa to the post on the right side of the stage, pushing her back until she was pinned against the pole. She didn't resist as Karl pressed against her shoulders, holding her in place as Jakob unlocked her shackles, casting them aside. They landed on the stage with a thud. Then they lifted her hands above her head, securing them in two leather loops which hung from a rope attached to the top of the post. For a moment she showed signs of life, pulling herself upward and trying to support herself on her feet. But she soon collapsed, hanging from the pole like a fish at market. With effort she lifted her head to survey the crowd, wearing a blank, emotionless expression, then her head bobbed again, and she went still.

The crowd's agitation grew. People were shouting and yelling and hissing their discontent. Nothing of what they said could be made out, but the din of their voices swelled to a roar, a rumble of angry protests as they surged toward the stage.

They're going to tear her apart, Hans thought.

Then something caught his eye. It was some kind of movement off in the distance, far to his left and traveling down the steep incline of the city. He tore his attention from the ruckus below and strained to see through the darkness, his vision piercing the night.

From his balcony he was high enough to see over the courtyard wall, and what he saw alarmed him. A reindeer was zigzagging through the narrow streets of the city, its hooves pounding the ground and its head bent forward, its antlers thrust out before it. Upon its back sat two riders, a man and a woman, both leaning so far forward only their momentum stopped them from tumbling over the reindeer's head.

Although they were too far away to recognize, Hans knew at once it was Kristoff and Anna.

They shouldn't be alive. The frost troll king should've killed them. Hans figured something must've happened to him, or the princess and her companion had never arrived at all. He wasn't sure, but it didn't matter, they were still alive and that was cause enough for concern.

He had half a mind to call down to his mother and warn her trouble was on the way. If he did, the gates would be closed and the execution could proceed as planned. He could stop everything from happening, all with a single word.

But it would be more fun to watch.

He cocked a half smile and stepped away from the railing. He wanted to see what would happen, see how things would play out. But not from here. He wanted a closer view of the disaster he knew was coming.

He left his perch and went back into the castle, heading for the stairs that would take him down to the ground level.


Maren was losing control of the crowd, and she knew it. Their faces bore the look of an angry mob marching upon the den of a beast. They were shouting and yelling curses, some pumping their fists in the air as they pressed closer and closer to the stage. Tobias waved his arms trying to calm them, but none of his words could be heard over the din of their fury. Someone threw a shoe and it connected with Tobias' forehead, sending him stumbling backward and then falling, sitting down hard on the stage. He scrambled back to his feet but a barrage of items came flying at him: rocks, pocket watches, more shoes, canes. Tobias cowered under the onslaught, crouching low and covering his head with his arms. He waited for the objects to stop flying but they continued and he was driven off the stage and sent scrambling into the castle.

"STOOOOOOOP!"

Maren's voice was so terrifyingly loud that it echoed off the walls and seemed to shake the entire courtyard with its intensity. The crowd went silent at once, some of them dropping items they clutched in their hands, others lowering arms which were raised over their heads, prepared to throw something. A single boot launched itself through the air and landed on the stage, coming to rest near a pile of projectiles collected in a misshapen mound.

Maren was livid as she scowled down at the people.

"The next person who throws something on this stage will be executed for treason!"

"You don't have the authority to execute anyone," someone replied, and the people resounded their agreement in angry shouts.

"Wrong! I have all the authority I need to charge and execute anyone who threatens Arendelle or its people, and I'll start right now."

She turned toward the guards who were standing on either side of Elsa.

"Kill the queen!"

Elsa didn't even flinch when the order came, her body hanging limp from the pole. Karl turned and drew his sword. He put one hand on her shoulder and pulled back his arm, the tip of his weapon pointed at her navel. His muscles tensed.

"DON'T TOUCH HER!"

Kristoff's voice boomed like thunder from behind him.


Kristoff stood between Anna and Sven, the three of them forming a line near the mouth of the gates. They'd just entered the courtyard and Kristoff had his sword raised and pointed at Karl. Sven's face was to the ground as he brandished his antlers and pawed at the cobblestone. Anna had her dagger in one hand and a torch in the other.

Karl and Jakob turned in surprise and Maren whirled around to face this new threat. When the crowd saw them they split down the middle, acting as one mind as they formed a path between the gates and the stage.

Although the trio now had an unobstructed passage to Elsa, Kristoff knew they'd never make it before Maren had her killed. He needed to create a distraction, something that would keep her focus off Elsa. But how could they distract her?

Then it struck him. Maren craved an audience, either to fuel her ego or to make her actions legitimate in the eyes of the people; probably both. He whispered something to Anna and she nodded.

"This woman means you harm," Anna said. "Everyone, please go back to your homes; leave now before you get hurt."

"No!" Maren said. "I command you to stay!"

A few responded to Anna's order and flowed out through the gates. Most, however, hesitated, some of them turning back to Maren, curious to see what she'd do.

"Your princess has spoken!" Kristoff shouted with all the authority he could muster. "NOW GO!"

Then the people responded, flooding out the gates, some of them walking and others running.

"No!" Maren's voice cracked and strained, laced with panic as she stared in disbelief at the fleeing citizens. "No, no, no, NO!" Jakob and Karl went to their queen, standing at guard on either side. Tobias must've been watching from the castle for he returned to the stage, taking up a position behind them.

Though many people stopped on the bridge to watch what would happen, the courtyard was now empty, and Maren turned her attention to the invaders, the flush of anger rising in her cheeks.

"That was a foolish thing to do."

Kristoff and Anna approached, wary to go slow, wanting to bridge the distance without alarming the group on the stage. Kristoff extended his arms when they were about halfway, signaling for them to stop. They stood upon the epicenter of the fissures that spidered out from the center of the cobblestone floor.

"I'll make you pay," Maren said. "You'll all pay dearly for your interference."

"The only one who will pay is you!" Anna said. Then she pointed her dagger at the men beside Maren. "Drop your weapons!"

Karl and Jakob exchanged an incredulous look and then broke into laughter. Maren smiled.

"You expect me to be afraid of a little girl with a knife and a bumbling mountain man with a sword?"

"No," Anna said, "I expect you to be afraid of the guards standing behind you."

"Nice try, but I don't fall for such simple minded trickery."

"Your Majesty," Karl said, "I think you better look."

She turned to see three guards of Arendelle standing in a line near the empty church.

They were just in time, Kristoff thought. As expected, the portcullis over the southwest entrance hadn't been closed and they were able to slip into the courtyard unnoticed. They advanced upon the four intruders with swords drawn, their steps cautious and deliberate. Tobias squealed like a frightened pig and Karl and Jakob turned to face the new threat, raising their swords. Maren spun back to Anna and Kristoff, her dress whipping about her.

"So, you think you have the upper hand? Well, you've forgotten one minor detail. I have the queen. Take another step and she dies!"

At that moment every torch sputtered, coughing up a gout of flames before burning out in a shower of sparks. The courtyard was plunged into an unnatural darkness that even the moonlight couldn't penetrate.

"The darkness will be complete, Kristoff," Grand Pabbie had told them as they planned their rescue of Elsa. "I cannot give you sight and take it away from the others. You will have to save Elsa in complete darkness."

But Kristoff was prepared. While Anna and Maren were engaged in a war of words he'd been memorizing the layout of the courtyard and counting the steps between himself and the stage. He worked out the distance from the front of the stage to where Elsa was chained, and he made careful note of everyone's position. When he completed his evaluation he calculated everything again. There was no room for error; he'd make no mistake.

Maren, however, didn't have the luxury of preparation, and her frantic screaming filled the courtyard.

"Get them! Get them!"

But Karl and Jakob were disoriented by the darkness and afraid of stumbling off the stage. Tobias was dizzy with fear and he fell into a sitting position, burying his face in his knees.

Kristoff ran forward, counting his steps and jumping at the perfect moment, rolling onto the stage and up to his feet, reaching Elsa in an instant of time. With a swing of his sword he chopped through the rope which held Elsa's hands to the post, then he scooped her into his arms and bounded off the stage, falling to his knee which struck the stone hard, before leaping up and running to where he left Anna.

"Kristoff?" Elsa breathed, barely able to form the words, "Is that you?"

"Yes, Elsa, it's me. I've got you now."

A burst of light exploded from the stage, a bright flash which illuminated the entire courtyard followed by a deafening BOOM! that shook the ground. The force of the explosion slammed into Kristoff's back, picking him up and flinging him forward. His only thought was to protect Elsa, and he turned to his side, covering her head with his arm as his shoulder slammed into the unforgiving stone. His head ricocheted off the ground sending a burst of stars scrambling before his eyes, and his ribs smashed into the cobblestone with such force that he was left without breath.

But he didn't lose his hold on Elsa.