The medic had gently set down a litter in a long row of others. The wounded and maimed quickly filling up the field where a bloody battle is taking place. One final effort is all that remains to retake Arendelle from the tyrant that rules from the spiraling icy castle. Either they would win here, or be completely destroyed. The general leading the forces had greatly underestimated how much support Queen Elsa really had. Now, they were all paying for it.
Thousands upon thousands of troops giving their lives to slowly retake the kingdom from a bloodthirsty tyrant. The only silver lining being that the losses on the queen's side were just as bad, and they wouldn't be able to hold out long. Or so they hoped. It's just so hard to believe when surveying scenes like this that the war could be even be won.
So much carnageā¦
Kristoff's attention had been interrupted by the booming of a nearby cannon. For hours, the entire line of cannons had been hammering away at the walls surrounding the capital city. Each hit sent chucks of ice flying everywhere. But just as quickly as the damage was done, it was replaced by new layers of magical ice. Kristoff feared they would run out of ammunition long before Queen Elsa ever ran out of ice. No small problem.
Kristoff shakes his head, focusing on the task at hand. He bandages the soldier's wounds, praying that this man wouldn't have to lose his leg. Just another one of many. Ever since the war heated up, Kristoff had been stuck working the front lines. 12, 14, 16, even 20 hour shifts at a time. Yet, it never seemed like enough. The work never stopped; wounds that always needed healed, and life-saving surgeries always being performed.
For every life saved, there seemed to be 3 or 4 right behind. Even then, those deemed healthy enough were sent right back to the front lines. Even those with wounds that were still healing, and wearing their bandages. So great was the need for more men. More men. More guns. More bullets. More artillery. More losses. Even if Queen Elsa was deposed, would it have been worth it? Was one woman worth such misery, suffering, and death? Kristoff wasn't so sure. His father had been a medic in Arendelle's army. His father before him. And his father before him. Now, here Kristoff was fighting against the very kingdom he swore an oath to serve. He was exhausted, and he knew it. Between the constant pounding of the cannons, the screams of the wounded and dying, the non-stop fighting, and the howling cold. He felt the exhaustion deep in his bones, and wondered how much longer he, and the war, could go on.
When a chill wind blows through, he pulls his thick coat tighter around him. There's no way it should be this cold in the middle of July. The hastily erected tents certainly weren't helping keep the cold out. Having helped the soldier as much as he cold, Kristoff headed back out into the cold and driving snow to retrieve the next wounded man, and to start the process all over again. The other medics with him plodding wordlessly through the several inches deep snow to carry on with their grim task.
MANY, MANY YEARS AGO
Young Elsa had woken way too early. The sun hadn't even come out yet. Not that it mattered. The storm had come on strong, dumping almost a foot of snow overnight. Elsa had anxiously waited for the first snowfall of the year. After all, where there's snow, Santa couldn't be too far behind, right? Even as fall slowly passed, Elsa could sense the storm coming. Like a feeling of excitement and anticipation deep in her chest. She had gone to bed the previous night, thrilling at having spotting a snowflake as her eyes drifted closed, and sleep overtook her. Even so, she swore she would be the first of her family to enjoy it.
Elsa quickly changed into her winter clothing, which she had set out a week before. Her boots. Her scarf. Her coat. She sprinted through the castle, and out the door. Stepping outside, she inhaled the icy cold air, letting out a sigh of satisfaction. She threw herself into a particularly deep snowdrift, content to just lay in the snow. She felt just as much home here as in her own bed. She knew what she needed to do. She headed back inside, leaving her own winter gear in a wet pile by the door.
Anna, on the other hand, had been sleeping peacefully when she was so rudely awakened. "What, Elsa?" Elsa shook her hard enough to make her younger sister groan in protest. Elsa had gone to the closet to retrieve Anna's winter gear, and carelessly chucks it all onto the bed. "Come on, Anna!" Elsa pleads, yanking the blankets off of her. "The snow is finally here!"
Anna tries in vain to curl up under the blankets again, to no avail. She knew Elsa wouldn't give up so easily. "Wake up! Wake up! Wake up!" Elsa took to jumping on the bed. "We have to go! Don't you want to build a snowman?" That got Anna's attention. Within minutes, the girls are dashing through the castle, out the door Elsa had left open. Iduna woke when she heard the girls running around. She went to the window to watch the girls hastily assemble a snowman. They would roll the snow into balls, and stack them up. A few pieces of coal for a face, and a carrot for a nose.
"What shall we call him?" Anna asks.
Elsa thinks for a moment, then the answer comes to her. "Olaf!"
"Olaf! Yay!"
Agnarr joins his wife at the window. They both smile, watching their children joyfully enjoy the snow. Even when the girls built simple snow forts opposite each other, and started chucking snowballs at each other. Except their joy very quickly turned to horror. All Elsa had to do was imagine it. She could see it. Several snowballs. All at once. Levitating in the air.
Then, it happened.
All squarely aimed at Anna. Instinctively, she tried to duck behind her snow fort. It didn't help. The snowballs viciously blasted through the flimsy wall, pelting Anna, knocking her unconscious. Elsa's jaw dropped. Had she done that? HOW had she done that? "Anna!" She screamed. "Mom! Help!" She runs to check on Anna. Too slow. Agnarr gets there first, furiously digging to unbury the little girl.
Iduna turns on her oldest daughter. "What did you do?!"
"I didn't mean to! It was an accident!"
Iduna isn't listening. She's turned her attention to her other daughter, as Agnarr carries her into the house. "I'll get the doctor." He says. "I'm sure she'll be fine though." Even he didn't find that very reassuring. He was sure Iduna wasn't comforted either.
Elsa could only look on as her family went back in the castle. She had stood rooted in her spot, not knowing what to do. When her mother shot her a dirty look, she didn't even want to go back inside either. She mindlessly kicks at a snowball when the door slams, leaving Elsa out in the cold.
