George Travers hurried through the well-lit tunnel, his footsteps echoing in the underground passage. It wasn't often that there was a mechanical emergency on one of Disneyland's many automated rides, but when there was a problem, he was the guy they invariably called. Travers had been working at the park since he was a teenager, all the way back to 1955 and had even had the pleasure of meeting Disney himself a number of times. From a fresh faced assistant with a penchant for machines, it hadn't been long before he was riding shotgun with some of the senior mechanics. He had a knack for fixing things that almost bordered on magical. It was as if whatever had malfunctioned would suddenly sense his presence, say to itself "crap, I know the guests can't tear me apart, but this guy can!" and then start working again.
Travers was a behind the scenes kind of guy, despite the park's philosophy that everyone employed at Disneyland was a cast member. Normally everyone had a role. Hell, even the street sweepers had costumes instead of uniforms and were trained to be able to draw Mickey's face in water on the cobblestones and concrete. Travers, on the other hand, was uncomfortable in front of the guests and used his prodigious knowledge of the back alleys, tunnels, and passages located behind the scenes to move around with relative ease, avoiding the congestion and choke points. It was a good thing too. He emerged out near the "Small World" attraction to find a mulling crowd, all craning their necks to see the spectacle in front of them.
For a moment, he thought someone might have been injured. It was a rare occurrence for the family park, but something rubbernecking Californians might be expected to linger around. They were a strange people, Californians, as weird and unexpectedly odd as any you might find. He began to push his way forward and then paused, feeling odd, as if he'd just received a low voltage shock. A chill crept up through his spine and he glanced around curiously. His radio squawked and he heard a tinny voice say in a panicked tone, "Travers, we need you at Small World NOW!" He shook his head and started to move forward when his eyes fell upon two women hurrying away from the crowd. It caught his attention because it looked suspicious. Most people don't hurry away from a spectacle. Both women were drop dead gorgeous and had Travers been just twenty years younger and encountered one of them in a bar, and possibly had a few beers already in him, he'd have asked at least one of them out. But then again, there are times when a man knows that a lady is out of his league. Both of these women didn't spare Travers a glance.
The taller and slightly older of the two women wore the hint of a smirk upon her perfectly crafted face. Her long hair was white as snow and fell in a perfect straight lines half way down her back. Her face was almost elfin, with a complexion so smooth that only professional models could even get close. Travers noticed that she was also dressed strangely for someone visiting the park. She wore an alabaster colored blouse that seemed to have bluish tints, as if it were made of ice, and a light gray business skirt that came down to her knees. Travers' couldn't help admiring the woman's curves. She wore high heels as well, which certainly made her fashionable, but hardly attired for a day's hiking around a theme park.
The other girl was clearly younger, though not by very much. She too was beautiful beyond belief, but her darker hair, a thick chocolate brown, and rosy cheeks made her seem more tropical, than her more white-washed companion. She seemed very Californian, wearing a pair of white capris, a Mickey Mouse shirt, and a pair of canvas boat shoes. And yet despite all the differences there was a similarity – in poise, in structure, that Travers could sense. For half a second the older woman's eyes fell on him and he suddenly felt cold.
"Mother! Please! Come on!" the younger woman urged. Mother and daughter. How could Travers have missed it? He stared at them as the daughter pulled on her mother's sleeve. Then they disappeared into the crowd and the feeling of cold that permeated Travers' body was gone.
He glanced back at them as they melted into the crowd, seeming to flow through the flood of people with inhuman ease. But then Travers shook his head. Mother? But they were so close in age! He had to put them out of his mind. Instead of thinking about it, he hurried forward, sometimes pushing his way through the crowd with a muttered, "Park Maintenance, excuse me please."
The white gold towers and turrets of the Small World ride rose above him and as he got to the queue line his eyes widened in shock. He stood there totally flummoxed as the ride attendant hurried up to him.
"What…. How did this happen?" Travers stammered, staring out across the ice.
The ride attendant was a little wild-eyed. "I've got no idea! It just did!" he exclaimed.
Travers looked down at the waterway. The Small World ride was nothing more than a slow moving motorized ride that took guests through a musical doll tour of the various cultures of the world. But now? Now the entire canal looked like the frozen north. Ice four inches thick spanned the waterway and cracks had appeared in the canal walls as the expanding pressure of the frozen water pressed outward. A few boats, still filled with startled guests, totally bewildered at their sudden predicament, were just a few feet away from the disembarkation point and Travers could see a family in a boat just a bit farther down turning to look back at the ride attendant.
"But… I don't understand. It's eighty degrees out!" Travers exclaimed. "There are thousands of gallons of water in there! How do they just freeze like that?" He stood there bewildered, all thoughts of the strange women leaving the scene gone from his mind.
The ride attendant nodded. "I know. It's like… winter just came by for a ride."
o0O0o
Two days before the "It's A Small World" ride at Disneyland froze solid, a very educated, very beautiful, halfling woman had applied her prodigious intelligence, analyzed possible motives, evaluated outcomes, only to end up completely and utterly confused. And it had all begun with a simple, abrupt statement from her mother.
"I see my Disney project has proven highly lucrative in both popularity and profits," observed Mab, the Queen of Air and Darkness and Monarch of the Winter Court of the Sidhe. "You will accompany me. It would be ideal for the two of us to survey the results of my efforts by taking a trip to the new amusement park the morn after next."
Sarissa's eyebrow went up and she looked toward her mother with a calculating, but skeptical look. She was well aware of her mother's subtle meddling with the flourishing mortal business and its creator, Walt Disney. It had been going on for decades. Sarissa had watched Mab carefully pluck an inspired man from the flock, usher him through proxies to seize opportunity, painstakingly grease the wheels of success and finally tweak his budding corporation to produce popular animations of faerie tales.
Snow White was the first and Sarissa remembered what it had been like when the movie had come to the screen. She had felt obligated by her ancestry and even a morbid curiosity to visit the motion picture theatre and view the production. She knew this clever scheme of Mab's would coax mortals into knowledge of Faerie without even realizing it, thus powering the realm with their subconscious belief. Sarissa had found her seat, sitting primly and tensely as she waited for the familiar and gruesome tale to come to life on the silver screen.
Five minutes in, her mouth fell open.
"Singing…?" she had breathed to herself, scarcely giving volume to the words. "Singing dwarves…? Happily ever after?" She knew a few dwarves and they never sang. Hell, every dwarf she knew would have been called Grumpy, or Nasty, or Vicious.
It was all wrong and Sarissa was too shocked to find it amusing. Disney's film was nothing like the factual and historical horror story she had been told as a child. What was the man thinking? But as the years went by, Sarissa watched it happen again and again with each new movie. Pinocchio, Cinderella, Sleeping Beauty - and she could restrain neither her uncontrollable laughter, nor her delight. Everything was so innocent. Innocent, playful, gentle and completely, ridiculously inaccurate. A part of her felt injured by the beautiful lie. If only…
Thus, upon being presented with two plane tickets to California - because apparently, Mab actually wanted to fly there like a mortal instead of taking the Ways - Sarissa seized the chance to discover why her ruthless, cold-hearted mother had allowed Faerie's history to be so blatantly misrepresented and corrupted. Even the Brothers Grimm hadn't dared to do what Disney had done. And so they'd gone to Disneyland, as tourists.
Mother had not been pleased.
"Well," Mab said quietly, watching her daughter the way a sadistic entomologist watched a live butterfly dying in a jar of alcohol. "What did you think of the ride?"
Sarissa forced herself not to shrink beneath her mother's cool, unreadable stare. The mortal half of her was always terrified of the Sidhe queen and the fae half of her was only a little better; still - a lifetime of surviving, hiding, and desperately trying to reconcile herself with a mother who was more likely to rip out hearts than smile affectionately had taught her not to show fear. She kept her back straight, her lips smiling and her feet hurrying quickly away from the crowd behind them. "Before or after you froze it, Mother?" she inquired neutrally.
A hint of a smile ghosted around Mab's frozen raspberry lips, but she said nothing.
Sarissa drew in a careful breath, looking around them at the sun-touched pavement and festive decorations. "It was an interesting contraption," she speculated cautiously, endeavoring to neither imply pleasure nor dislike. "I haven't spent a great deal of time with theme park rides, but it was quite creative to put the boat on a track, thus maximizing efficiency and equalizing the total time of each circuit. The presentation was also set up with human psychology in mind, the visuals guiding the eye from one entertainment to the next. The music was," she paused for a moment. "A bit repetitive." Mab's expression did not change throughout the brainy ramble. Sarissa gave her mother a studied look. "But again, a repetitive song plays into human psychology; the park guests will be far more likely to remember it and sing it to themselves."
Mab stared at her.
For all her extensive education and career experience, Sarissa felt like an idiot. These mother-daughter get-togethers were so much easier to get through when Mab came over to watch TV or when Mab took her for coffee and inquired about school, wanting to know more of the mortals Sarissa surrounded herself with. Now Sarissa was trying and failing to understand why the Winter Queen had insisted on riding a contraption that had nothing to do with faerie tales and then wordlessly froze the damn thing solid. 'What did you think of the ride?' indeed!
"How clever of you, my daughter," Mab praised Sarissa, "to catch me with my careless words. I asked of you what you thought and as usual, you think so many things. Cornered, I must clarify." There was a subtly sarcastic undertone in her cold, precise voice that implied she knew very well of Sarissa's mental floundering. "Did you like the ride, my snowflake child? Did you enjoy it?"
Sarissa did not dare to lie. She bowed her head. "Before you froze it, no," she answered meekly, but honestly. "The music was annoying and all the colors made my head hurt. After you froze it," a helpless smile snuck unconsciously onto her lips. "The looks on everyone's faces…" The memory made her close her eyes, covering her mouth with her hand to stifle a laugh. "I enjoyed it."
Satisfaction flitted through Mab's deep green eyes.
Sarissa caught herself. "A question for a question, Mother," she said. "Why did you freeze the ride?"
Mab's face once more became statuesque and impassive. "I did already bestow upon thee the means to discern my reasons," she stated, switching back into the archaic dialect of her realm. The queen had tasked herself with speaking like a modern mortal whenever she met with Sarissa but occasionally, she slipped up. "I predicted thy inquiry and answered it e'en as I asked mine of thee," Mab continued. "I owe thee nothing."
"Yes, Mother," Sarissa acquiesced at once. If Mab said 'I owe thee nothing', then Mab owed thee nothing. That was just as true in Disneyland as it was in the Nevernever.
Mab turned and looked over at the train station. "What is that?"
Sarissa blinked, having half expected punishment for audaciously implying a debt, and then consulted her pamphlet map of the park. "It's the train station, Mother. The track goes around the park. Would you like to ride?"
"Would that not be nice?" Mab replied idly.
Sarissa's eye twitched as her mother deftly avoided answering a yes or no question. The halfling herself could have easily induced a contest, asking yet another question instead of answering. If she did, however, Mab would just ask back and they would evade each other's words like writhing tadpoles until Sarissa was cornered and Mab won. Thus, acknowledging the futility of reindeer games, so to speak, Sarissa picked the wiser option of answering concisely.
"Yes, it would be nice," she smiled, handing her mother an easy victory in a pretty gift basket with ribbons. "The train won't arrive for another fifteen minutes or so though. Where should we wait?"
She realized she'd asked another question to late. Here it came. "Are you hungry?" Mab queried.
Sarissa stifled a groan. She had walked right into that. "No, Mother." That made two pretty gift baskets. She did not shove her foot in her mouth by asking another question this time.
"Then restaurants are off our list of options," Mab concluded, absently smoothing the glacier colored silk blouse she wore above her gray business skirt. She glanced around. "That tent appears to have a variety of spectacles within. Let's go there."
When Sarissa saw the object of Mab's interest, her heartbeat quickened. It was a character tent, specifically one that housed princesses. Inside, actresses wore elaborate costumes, smiled blindingly, and hugged children so that a parents could record the magical moment with their VHS video cameras. Sarissa realized this was the perfect opportunity to get Mab to tell her why the movies had come out so idealized, if not actually neutered.
They walked side by side, something they only ever did in the mortal world. Having a bad view of Mab's profile, rather than a distant one of her back, never failed to strike Sarissa as strange. The halfling was used to being far away, unable to reach her mother either physically or emotionally.
Inside the brightly colored tent children were numerous, each dragging an indulgent parent along behind them for a closer look at the many characters about. There were lines for pictures but some 'princesses' stood in corners, telling stories and giving hugs.
Sarissa was mortal enough to notice that she and Mab were the only solely-adult pair but she retreated to the fae part of her mind to dodge embarrassment. Mab, of course, looked so completely at ease that one could believe she owned the entire park instead of just a significant portion of its stock. Ironically, the only real queen in the tent seemed to be gradually drawing more attention from the children than the lovable actors. The Fairest of Them All was not a giggly, teenage, Snow White in make-up and garish yellow and blue, not while Queen Mab was wandering lethally and gracefully through the crowd.
A mother nearby whispered haltingly, "Annie, it's rude to stare."
The dark-haired little girl smiled bashfully, dragged her eyes away from Mab and threw her arms around her mother in a tight hug. The mother sighed and placed a gentle hand on her child's back. Sarissa dragged her eyes away from them both, hastily suppressing a powerful and poisonous wave of envy.
"It is rare to see such cruel things in your eyes, daughter mine," Mab murmured and in the din of chatter around them, her voice reached only Sarissa's ears. "If you wish to delay our outing and twist the fates of those young mortals, I will be most patient and attentive."
"No," Sarissa refused, a cold wave of fear replacing the jealousy of before. "I… I'm not…" her voice trailed off as the thoughts whirled in her mind. She longed to say it. I'm not a faerie. I'm not Maeve. But Sarissa knew that Mab would never accept such a declaration. Sarissa swallowed hard and looked back up at her mother. Mab said nothing, waiting for Sarissa to finish, daring her to say the words. The halfling shook her head. "I want to see Sleeping Beauty," she said finally.
"Then let us proceed," said the queen, ignoring Sarissa's internal conflict.
It was not difficult to draw the attention of the actress playing Sleeping Beauty when they approached. She was a fairly pretty woman in her early twenties with highly processed and curled blond hair. Her smile was white, her lips painted red and her dress matched the animated princess' pink gown. A flicker of intimidation marred her practiced smile as she took in Mab's unquestionably superior beauty. Perhaps Sarissa possessed an unearthly loveliness as well but she could never compare to the simply striking appearance of Mab or the cold presence the queen carried around with her.
"Hello, I'm Princess Aurora," said the actress in an incredible display of situational irony. "How are you enjoying the park?" All the children and parents around them were watching Mab. There was actually a crowd gathering.
"It's lovely," Sarissa replied quickly. This was the opportunity she was looking for. "I have seen Sleeping Beauty, but my mother hasn't. Will you tell her what the story is about?" Sarissa eyed her mother, watching for a reaction.
"Of course," said the actress and to her credit, she didn't let any of her discomfort show on her faces. She did glance at Mab in surprise when Sarissa said 'mother'. "Sleeping Beauty is about how an evil fairy named Maleficent put a spell on me when I was a baby. At sixteen years of age, I was cursed to prick my finger on a spindle and fall into an eternal sleep. Some good fairies tried to protect me by hiding me away in a forest but I still ended up pricking my finger. Luckily, my true love, Prince Philip, fought off Maleficent and saved me with True Love's kiss."
"Come to think of it," Sarissa said to Mab, utilizing her acting experience to make the words sound unplanned and casual, "you told me a different version, didn't you, Mother?"
Mab's eyes were keen and bright and her expression was unreadable. "There are many different versions of that tale," she said, her voice seeming to leech the noisiness out of the crowd around them.
"How does your version go?" a little girl of perhaps twelve years old spoke up, her eyes fixed on the queen's face. "Will you tell us?"
"I will if you give me your name," said Mab. Sarissa's eyes widened in alarm. She stepped forward, with every intention of stopping the girl before it was too late.
"Tracy Johnson," the girl replied at once. Sarissa groaned and looked away.
"Very well then, Tracy Johnson," said Mab, repeating the name with an eerily perfect replication of the girl's intonation. "In the version I know, the princess was named Talia and her parents had dealt one of the most powerful faeries in all of fae a grievous insult. Unforgiving was the fairy lady, the closest to death and coldest winter, and she changed the child's fate for ill. Talia was cursed that should she lay a finger upon a single strand of flax, she'd fall into a death sleep. So the king and queen ordered all flax from their kingdom. Talia grew up lovely and kind but one day, she came across an old woman spinning flax." Mab cast one hand through the air in a leisurely gesture. "Having never seen someone spinning, she naturally wanted to try it herself. Of course, the moment the old woman obliged her, a splinter of flax slid under her fingernail and she fell into a deep sleep."
"What's flax?" one child asked, but was immediately shushed by the other children.
"Was the old woman the evil fairy in disguise?" another little girl queried.
"The encounter strikes me as unusual were that not the case," Mab agreed cryptically. "For how could an old woman, one who knew not of the kingdom's law, draw so close to a sheltered princess? Nevertheless, the king could not bear to see his daughter entombed and placed her in one of his estates. There she slept on a pedestal, alone in the silence. This changed when another monarch riding by wandered inside. Upon seeing Talia, he was deeply besotted with her looks but could not wake her. So, he ripped off her garments and raped her in her sleep."
"Jesus Christ!" one of the parents exclaimed and quickly pulled his daughter away. Tracy's mother did not seem to be in close proximity and thus the child remained, looking perplexed.
"Um, that's… um…" the Sleeping Beauty actress stammered, "that's probably enough…"
"I have agreed to tell the whole tale and so I shall," Mab stated simply.
"There's more?!" 'Aurora' squeaked, her eyes bulging.
"Indeed," said Mab. "Still asleep, Talia soon became pregnant and after nine months, twins were born of her- a boy and a girl. One of them suckled at Talia's finger and the splinter was removed. Talia awoke and named them for the sun and the moon. When the hedonistic monarch returned, he found Talia awake and he agreed to care for her. Unfortunately, he was already married and his queen swiftly discovered the existence of his new heirs. The jilted queen tricked Talia and her children into coming to court and ordered the castle cook to put the babes into a stew."
"I think we've heard enough…" another parent said in shock, pulling her child away. Mab continued as if she hadn't noticed.
"She served the stew to her husband that night. Then she took Talia before the court and made to throw her into a fire and revealed the king's feasting upon his own children. The King saved Talia and ordered that the queen and the cook be thrown into the fire instead. The cook however, quickly explained that he had not cooked the children but a pair of lambs; the twins were safely hidden inside the pantry. Thus, Talia was reunited with her children and the murderous queen was thrown into the fire instead. Talia married to the king and the cook was made the royal chamberlain. So it ends."
Tracy frowned, her brow knitting as she struggled with the flurry of concepts Mab had just poured into her brain. "I wonder why they're so different; I mean, the only things that were the same was the sleeping curse, the evil fairy and the spinning."
"I know why," one of the other girls listening said, sounding more than a bit proud of herself. Sarissa noticed that most of the little girls had left or been pulled away.
"The movie makers dumbed the real version down so that little kids could understand it. I mean, who knows what flax is these days?" The little girl said authoritatively.
The older girl who had originally asked about flax fixed her wide eyes on 'Aurora'. "So you got raped?"
The actress stared speechlessly for a moment, blinked rapidly a few times then turned on one heel and fled out of the tent.
"Well," Sarissa said conclusively, feeling slightly guilty at the turn of events and more than a little eager to leave before security escorted them out. "It's about time for the train to arrive, Mother. We should be on our way," she said earnestly, almost reaching out to take Mab's arm.
"Of course," Mab agreed indulgently and they left the tent.
As Sarissa had predicted, they soon saw the train chugging slowly up the tracks towards the station. They found a good pair of seats in a middle car. Around them, other people boarded in the din made by their cheerful chattering and the conductor's booming voice. Unconsciously it seemed, they avoided Mab and Sarissa as they chose their seats, leaving a fair amount of free space both before and behind the pair. The odd behavior was certainly not Sarissa's doing, so it had to be Mab's; the queen wanted privacy.
"So, child," Mab said as the train began to move, "did you glean the answers you seek from our encounters with the young mortals?"
Sarissa made her lips twist into a frown. "The Disney fairytales are completely inaccurate," she stated. "That much is certain."
"And certain it has been since before we arrived," Mab added, leaning an elbow on the arm of the train bench and looking out at the scenery, "but it seems you still do not know why."
Sarissa froze. Of course she hadn't fooled Mab. Looking back on her words in the tent, her motive for instigating the exchange of tales was painfully obvious. She decided just to come clean and hope the queen took no offense.
"Grandmother is of the opinion that mortals should be reminded of why they should fear the fangs and the claws, the cold and the dark," Sarissa said.
Mab stayed silent, waiting for her daughter to finish.
"She asked me of what value is something so easily kept," Sarissa explained. "I presume she meant mortal life."
The cold stare of her mother made Sarissa flinch. Finally the Queen spoke.
"Mother Winter's perspective is accurate but harsh. She has much knowledge, but has rarely left her place to venture into the world. She ignores logic in favor of hate. There is enough in this world to terrify mortals without the truth of faerie being made known to them."
Sarissa blinked. "She called you a romantic," she wryly.
That seemed to amuse Mab but elicited nothing but a raised eyebrow. Sarissa continued. "As for me, I just assumed that your realm would benefit more from truth. The more of Faerie's history that is known to the mortal realm, the more power will come to it from belief."
"And do mortals generally believe what they see in motion pictures?" Mab mused socratically.
Sarissa blinked in confusion. "You're saying that even if people were given the full story, they would not believe it?"
"Who in this cynical new world would believe that a story is real?"
Realization hit the halfling like a clay brick. "Children," she answered.
Mab cast her hand through the air in a leisurely gesture. "And thus it is so," she told her daughter.
Now that Sarissa thought about it, she could think of a dozen more reasons for the way Disney had changed the stories of the Sidhe. Putting Faerie's history in theatres would have roused the attention of the Venatori, requiring Mab to expend resources to keep them from disrupting her activities. Additionally, if the motion pictures were lovable, mortals would revisit them again and again in years to come because they were brought pleasure and not fear. Decades from now, children would watch the same movies and open their innocent little hearts to magic just as their parents had. Mab's creation was flawless. It was brilliant. It was self-perpetuating.
A breathless laugh escaped Sarissa's lips. She was awed by both her mother's cleverness and the irony of a monstrously, savage realm providing warm childhood memories to mortals everywhere. "Then Disney's movies are supposed to be innocent. Disneyland is just a place for parents to take their children."
Mab watched her silently and Sarissa reviewed her conclusions for a moment, satisfied that the mystery was solved and even more satisfied that the only kids traumatized by the truth of Faerie were the ones they had left behind in the tent. Then she replayed her own words in her mind.
Disneyland is just a place for parents to take their children.
Sarissa paused. She looked down at the bench. She looked out of the train at the beautifully designed theme park, the bright colors, the twisting roller coasters and the endless stream of human families having a fantastic time together. She looked at Mab. Mab's eyes softened just ever so slightly.
Oh.
Suddenly, it was all Sarissa could do not to cry. She hunched inward, frightened that the painfully warm emotion kindling in her heart would be snuffed out by even the faintest breath of ice. When she looked down, her dark hair fell in her face and created a curtain between her and the Winter Queen.
Cool, dry fingers reached out, gently brushed Sarissa's hair back behind her ear then returned to their owner's lap- as if it was really so easy, as if Sarissa could just extend her hand and-
"Mother," the halfling whispered, "did you freeze It's a Small World because you wanted me to enjoy it?"
Mab, Queen of Air and Darkness and Monarch to the Winter Court of the Sidhe, replied with a question. "Is that your latest theory?"
Sarissa sank back in her seat, closing her eyes. Mab had created Disney's success over the course of decades with more ulterior motives than her daughter could possibly imagine- but one of them, one of them, had been to subtly imply to her children, 'I love you'. She would never say it. Mab was Mab. It had to be enough.
Sarissa opened her eyes, turning to Mab with a genuine smile as she pointed down at a roller coaster they passed. "Let's ride that next."
.o0o.
Tracy Johnson sat comfortably in the office chair and checked her boss' calendar. He was a busy man, with multiple projects, hundreds of artists, writers, and animators working for him. Tracy's boss was the Chief Creative Officer of both Disney's Animation Studios and Pixar, and sometimes Tracey had to juggle things in order to fit all his commitments in. She was just in the process of rescheduling a meeting when the office door opened and a cold draft slipped into the room, chilling Tracy to the bone. She let out a gasp, not even slightly amazed that she could see her breath. In seconds she slid from her desk chair and knelt, eyes down, frightened of the woman who had entered.
"Rise child. I wish to see him," Mab said softly, laying icy fingers on the girl's cheek.
Tracy Johnson stood immediately, trying to suppress the shiver that wasn't entirely due to the cold. "Yes, your Majesty." Tracy moved forward quickly, heading toward the door that lead to John's office. Mab followed gracefully, the white linen and silk suit she wore so crisp and sharp that it looked as if it had been made of ice itself.
"Know that I am pleased with you. Your efforts to sway him on the Tinkerbell tale were quite sufficient," Mab said as Tracy reached for the door. A soft blush filled the girl's cheeks and she bowed her head.
"Thank you, your Majesty. Is there anything else I can do for you?"
Mab looked away from the adult woman. "No. But stay attentive. John and I have much to discuss."
Tracy Johnson nodded and again bowed. "Of course, your Majesty." Then she opened the door.
The room Mab stepped into looked more like a toy store than the executive office of one of the most powerful men in the film and entertainment industry. Hundreds of resin casts, plush dolls, and metal figurines filled the shelves behind the desk and there were various toys scattered around every work surface. A massive computer screen took up one corner of the desk, along with a phone. Behind it all sat a bright eyed, somewhat dumpy looking man with thinning hair. The massive windows along the side of the office suddenly dimmed as frost began forming almost immediately.
The man was on the phone, but his eyes widened in shock as Mab moved into the center of his office. He interrupted the person on the other end of the line.
"Bob, something's come up. I've got to go. I'll call you back," John said sharply, not even waiting for an answer as he hung up. He watched Mab warily as she picked up a tiny sculpture of a platinum blonde in a blue dress standing on a snowflake. The statue looked disturbingly like Mab herself. He licked his lips nervously and ran his hand across his scalp before pushing his spectacles back up over his nose.
"Your Majesty," he said quickly. "To what do I owe this honor?"
Mab, the Queen of Air and Darkness, Monarch of the Winter Court, sat down in the chair opposite the man's desk, crossing her long, shapely legs. She was dressed in a white business suit that was totally respectable, but still seemed to accentuate her unearthly beauty. She held onto the small statue in her hand, toying with it idly. She was beyond beautiful, beyond elegant, but the very sight of her froze the man's blood.
"I think an explanation is in order, John. Walt and I had an arrangement, and while I granted him a certain latitude, you have not done as I asked," she said, her voice cold and hard. The temperature in the office dropped five degrees in as few seconds.
The man swallowed, holding up his hands. "Look, I know that you and Walt had a thing, but there were mitigating circumstances in my case. First of all, a story about a girl who gets winter's magic and becomes a villain, only to have her little sister search out a sorceress and get summer's magic so they can fight until the end of eternity wasn't something I could sell." He frowned. "Besides, once the producers heard "Let it Go," no one would have believed Elsa was a villain anyway. I had to change it." He waved his hands in the air. "And no one believed me when I said the story was based on Anderson's 'The Snow Queen'."
Mab stared at him for a moment. "I am well aware of your difficulties, John. And while I am displeased that you took such liberties with the story that I gave you, it has served winter in some small way. It is why you are not dead," the Queen said firmly.
John bobbed his head. "You said that I needed to show the power of winter…"
Mab raised her hand and he went silent. "I did indeed and you have done that well. Winter's power is on every human child's lips. But this will be the last time you disobey me or I will freeze your heart and shatter it with a single word."
John shivered and ran his hands quickly up and down his bare forearms. Finally he looked up at her. "Did it change you? The magic?"
Mab looked off into the distance, out the window, taking a moment. "What does magic change in any of us?"
"I would have liked to think that it can make us better than what we were," he said sadly.
Mab's eyes hardened as she looked back at him. "That is not the nature of magic, mortal. It is a force of nature on its own, warping and forcing the bearer of the mantle for a predetermined purpose." The temperature dropped another five degrees in the little office. Little fingers of frost began appearing on the computer monitor. She put the tiny sculpture of herself down on John's desk.
John stiffened. "My apologies, your Majesty. I didn't mean to pry. But please understand that today's children are about self-actualization, hope, and love. Not about a girl who embraces a magic that that makes her into a villain."
"Is that how you see me? A villain?" Mab asked coldly.
John swallowed rethinking his comment. "Not exactly."
"Then how do you see me?" She asked, looking at him with icy, blue eyes.
"Cold and beautiful. Hard and..." his voice cracked.
"Heartless?" Mab queried.
John cleared his throat and looked away from her direct gaze. "You told me that I had artistic license."
"I did. Rest assured I will not grant such a wide latitude again," Mab said, inclining her head. "And provided you serve my purpose."
The man nodded. "Thank you," he said, then reached out and picked up the tiny miniature of Mab. He held it up and stared at it thoughtfully as Mab rose and turned toward the door. "Your Majesty, I have to ask. Did you like 'Frozen'?"
The Queen of Air and Darkness stood in the chilly office and looked out the window. Her silence was heavy and John felt a chill slide up his spine.
She looked back at him for half a second, the tiniest smile upon her lips.
"The cold never bothered me anyway." Then she left. She didn't go through the door. She just disappeared into a cloud of frozen mist that left a light sheen of snow across half of John office. He sat back and stared at the sculpture of Elsa and set it back down in the corner of his desk. Finally he picked up his phone with shaking fingers.
"Tracy? Can you please get me a hot coffee? I could use something to warm me up. I'm afraid I'm just a touch frozen.