"How dare you!"

Ravian's rage seeped into the atmosphere, and Hans could have sworn the entire forest caved in on him, that Ravian grew more than a few feet taller, but that was because the spirit was now standing in front of him, tears running down his cheeks as his crimson eyes blazed with insurmountable fury. "How dare you!"

Hans gulped as hesitantly met Ravian's gaze, but he could only hold his stare for a second. Ravian's presence was simply too overwhelming. He had to look away. "You do it all the time," Hans mumbled. "I don't see the problem."

Ravian's hand grasped around the collar of Hans's tunic, and the two were suddenly inches apart from one another. Hans had gotten used to situations like this, staring up in fear at a being who could incinerate him whenever he pleased. "Because you let me see it!" Ravian shouted. "You let me!" Hans was forced to look into the spirit's angry eyes, but there was sadness behind the mad facade, and that sadness quickly overpowered the anger. The powerful spirit had been reduced to a broken man right before his eyes. "There are some things you just don't get to see." His sadness faded, and there was nothing shown in his eyes. No emotion. No more smugness that normally adorned Ravian's face whenever he looked at Hans.

Ravian let go of Hans's shirt, and the former prince let out a breath he wasn't aware he was holding. The spirit turned his back to Hans, his fist clenched as he took step after step away from the ginger. "Where are you going?" Hans jogged after the spirit who didn't respond. "Ravian, answer me."

It wasn't after more than a few steps that Ravian turned around, housing the same blank look on his face. Without even a shrug, the spirit turned his head, continuing forward and leaving the former prince behind. Hans snarled as he watched Ravian walk away. "I asked you a question, dammit!"

No response.

"So..." Hans mumbled. "This is how it's going to be..." Hans closed his eyes. If he wouldn't receive and answer, then he'd get one himself. Hans closed his eyes and searched the atmosphere. He was suddenly aware of everything all at once. His own body, the sounds of the birds and the rustling of the trees, the wind gently blowing the fabric of his clothes every which way.

Through it all, there was an overwhelming presence. Ravian's presence. Hans reached out for it. He could feel it drawing nearer.

And then there was pain. Every crevice of Hans's body became paralyzed and stung all at once. His eyes shot open sharply, and he met Ravian's stare from mere feet away. His heart beat fast, the fear he thought he'd pushed down suddenly came to the surface like a tsunami wave.

"Try that again and you'll regret it, I promise you."

Ravian's words resonated with Hans who only found the resolve to nod his head. He watched as Ravian disappeared into the vastness of the forest, and when he was no longer visible, Hans could finally move again. He began a trudge back into town. Maybe it wasn't smart, but he still had one more night left at the inn. Why not use it?

It took him mere minutes to return to the crowded streets of the Arendellian market. The smells of spices, bread, and body odors of all kinds made Hans want to swoon and vomit all at once. The inn lobby was just as crowded as it was earlier that day. Good. He could slip by unnoticed. He scanned the room once, sighing in relief to see he hadn't drawn any attention.

"Excuse me."

Or so he thought.

Hans turned his head, raising a brow when he saw Hannah walking towards him. "Do you have a moment?" Hans nodded. "I wanted to say thank you."

Hans's other brow raised. "For what, exactly?"

Hannah smiled. "For getting my heirloom back."

She reached into her dress pocket, revealing a necklace that she held out to Hans. "It was my father's before he passed away. I don't know what I would have done if I never saw it again."

Hans reached for the necklace which Hannah handed over to him. The chain was pure gold, and at the bottom rested a pendant in the shape of a shield with a script 'N' engraved inside. "Your father lived in Northern Isles?"

Hans's gaze shifted back to Hannah who nodded. "Yes, he was in the military there. Everyone in the military receives one of these pins, but he gave his to me. To remember him by."

Hans smiled and placed the necklace back into her hand. "Well, you're very welcome for retrieving it for you."

Hannah returned his grin before her eyes widened. "Before I forget, something came for you." She hurried off, scurrying behind the desk and proceeded to shuffle around for something in particular. She came back with an envelope sealed with the Arendelle crocus. "For you. From her Majesty."

Hans took the envelope, although he wished Ravian were there so he could burn it. "Thank you." He tried not to sound spiteful.

"You're very welcome. Enjoy the rest of your day."

The woman's green eyes were brighter than anything he'd ever seen as she tucked a strand of her brown hair behind her ear to tend to a customer who was a little too drunk for the time of day. Hans chuckled to himself and headed back to his room, his eyes never leaving the envelope all the while. "What else could she possibly want?" He muttered as he trudged into to his room.

The bed was made, and everything had been cleaned thankfully. Now he could ruin it again. He flopped down on the mattress, grimacing slightly at the sturdiness of the mattress (It would take a while to get used to that), and opened the sealed envelope. Like the previous letter, it unfolded, revealing the same impeccable handwriting.

Corin,

Considering the ball is in three days time, I was wondering if you would have time to make my sister and I cloaks similar to the one you had worn when you first arrived. We were both taken by it, and we could even provide materials if you'd like.

Queen Elsa of Arendelle

The ball.

Shit.

Hans sighed as he threw the letter to the side and let his head fall onto the pillow as he stared up at the dull, beige ceiling. The ball was in a few days, and he had nothing to wear.

/

The chair at Jehan's desk had always been precarious. One leg had always been broken, but that didn't matter according to his father. They would be getting him a new one soon. That was what he said ten years ago and still continued to say to this very day. The precarious wooden chair was where Jehan sat, his fingers curled around a silver coin. He spun the coin around with both hands, watching it twirl around and around until it eventually fell flat, and then he would do it all over again.

His eyes shifted from the coin that laid on the wood of his desk to the side where a mirror was placed. He reluctantly stood and stood in front of the reflective glass, reflecting his very image back at him. His stubbles of red hair on his face that he needed to shave sooner or later. His figure which was slender, but he still should do more exercise than he did. His hair on top that was thick and swept to one side. His jaw which he couldn't believe had gotten so defined. His nose was too small though, and his blue eyes... well, they were fine.

He shifted his attention to his clothing, his white suit jacket lined with red and golden epaulets with a green vest with gold buttons going straight down. The matching white trousers made him look like he was going to a ball.

He audibly sighed and turned around, looking over his bed where a picture lay. A tall man in a white military outfit stood, one hand in a salute at his forehead while the other was stiff at his side. His blue eyes were so determined, so strong.

"That is the umpteenth time you've looked at that picture in the last five minutes." Jehan stepped back, startled as he turned to see a man standing by the door. His hair was pure white, and his skin was pale. His eyes were a piercing violet that could cut through steel. He wore nothing but black, his jacket was lack lined with silver whorls, and the vest he wore underneath had silver buttons going straight down the middle, and matching black trousers. On his fingers were rings and jewels the likes of which Jehan had rarely seen. The man, on the outside, was the epitome of suave, but Jehan knew to replace that word with arrogance. "You just go from that desk to that mirror and then to that picture, and then you do it aaaalllll over again."

Jehan's gaze shifted to the picture up on the wall. "I thought I told you to go and scout ahead to see if the servants were coming."

"That's just boring." The man purred, and before he knew it, he felt fingers tracing the back of his neck. The man's white hair came into view, and then his violet eyes were right in front of Jehan's blue ones, and the man's hand was on Jehan's cheek. "This is more fun."

Before Jehan could say a thing, the man's lips were on his own. Although they were soft, and Jehan had gone numb to the man's kisses long ago, something sinister still seeped through it all. Jehan hadn't realized his eyes had been closed until he opened them to find violet eyes staring at him. "You never told me who was in that picture."

Jehan broke away from the intimacy and took a step closer to the picture. "Did you ever think I didn't want you to know?"

A suave chuckle sent shivers down Jehan's spine as something trailed down his back. He turned around to see the man with a black and purple aura around himself, dark tendrils seeped from his being and crawled towards Jehan, caressing him. "You know I want to know everything about you, Jehan."

The prince shook his head. "I don't have time for this. Melody will be here today and I can't-"

"You can't what? Revel in my power for a moment longer?" The prince fell silent and simply closed his eyes. He would never admit it out loud, but having the darkness around him did feel nice. It made him feel at ease, safe. "Isn't this why you chose me in the first place?"

Jehan's breath hitched as the tendrils ran down his back. "I didn't choose you." He corrected. "I chose your power."

The man's chuckle was enough to send shivers down Jehan's spine. "Jehan, I am power. Without me, you're just the son of a king who favors his dead firstborn."

Knock.

Knock.

Knock.

Jehan's eyes shot open and he glared at the man dressed all in black. He rolled his eyes and dissolved into shadow, merging with Jehan who looked in the mirror once again, sighing as he watched his eyes turn to the piercing violet he'd never admit he'd come to love. "Enter."

The door creaked open, and a servant appeared, dressed in a plain white dress, her blonde hair cascading down her back. "Your father requests your presence in his study, your Highness."

Jehan simply nodded and pushed past the servant, beginning a quick descent down the hall. He had been expecting Melody. Not his father.

I swear to god if it's another one of those meetings.

Jehan scoffed. "What do you know? You don't have to bare with sitting through them."

Jehan caught glances of servants as he walked. To everyone else, it seemed as if he was just talking to himself. He could have sworn they all thought he was crazy.

I'm with you most of the time. I have to deal with whatever you do and then some.

The prince sighed as he turned the corner, the architecture of the castle had lost its wonder long ago. Bits and pieces of it were charred, blackened and flaking off the wall. It was barely holding itself together.

What do you suppose he wants?

Jehan simply shrugged. "I can't read minds like you. How should I know?"

Chatter disrupted Jehan's thoughts, giggling that was too familiar to him could be heard just around the corner. A smile crept up his lips as he picked up his pace, sighing as he turned the corner to meet the most gorgeous pair of chocolate brown eyes. The plain crimson floor-length dress she wore fitted her figure to a tee, and her hair was done in a half up half down style, framing her face like the most well-painted portrait. Jehan practically ran to the woman, chuckling as he held her waist picking her up off the ground, causing a small squeal to escape her lips.

He set her down gently, looking into her eyes. "I missed you, Mel." He mused.

His heart fluttered every time their eyes met, he couldn't bring himself to look away from her. The castle seemed brighter when she was around, everything seemed brighter when she was around. "It's certainly been a while, Jehan."

Her voice was so smooth, so pure and innocent. The prince leaned in, placing a loving kiss on her lips as she met him halfway. He felt the exchange of words that hadn't said to each other in months. What they had was real, it seemed strange to him. Normally, arranged marriages weren't known to work out, but he'd gotten too lucky. He pulled away ever so slightly, sighing dreamily, and he was met with a look.

"Don't tell anyone I did that." Jehan grinned, and a laugh escaped Melody's lips.

She nudged him playfully with her shoulder, and the two began to walk side by side. "So, how did things go in Sylvia?" Jehan raised a brow as he looked at his wife.

"Well, they went the same as all annual check-ups on our relationship go. My father gives me the old protective father speech, he asks how you are, and that's really it. It's quite uneventful."

Jehan shrugged. "Well, your father isn't exactly known to be the most... entertaining."

Melody scowled playfully at him. "Neither is yours."

The retort had Jehan laughing. "Point taken." Jehan met her gaze once more. "And Abigail?"

Melody turned to face Jehan, wrapping her arms around his neck, stopping the both of them from taking another step. "She's with Jaqueline back in Sylvia. Safe and sound." She hummed and placed a gentle kiss on Jehan's lips. "Buuuut she does miss her father, you know."

Jehan hummed in understanding before taking the time to place his own kiss on Melody's lips. "I miss her too. God, it's like I'm missing every one of her milestones."

Melody rolled her eyes. "You were jousting. You couldn't hear a thing underneath that helmet let alone the crowd." The two laughed, lingering in each other's holds. "Now, I hear you have to go and speak with your father?"

Jehan rolled his eyes. "Don't remind me."

Melody shrugged. "Well, good luck. I hear that your father isn't exactly known to be the most... entertaining."

"I can't believe you."

"I love you too."

The two smiled, sharing another loving kiss before Jehan broke away, holding Melody's hands. "I'll meet you in our chambers when I'm done?"

The woman nodded, tilting her head ever so slightly to look up at her husband. "I'll meet you in our chambers."

Jehan held onto her hands for as long as he possibly could before he had to break away from her. It had been months, and for her to be here was nothing short of a miracle. He walked through the halls smiling brightly, he couldn't have been happier.

The hall that harbored his father's study was darker than the rest of the castle. There were no windows, and the only door was the door that belonged to his father in the whole wing. The rest of the walls were adorned with paintings, and the door to his father's study was pure white, not tainted in any way. Innocent.

It was the most ironic thing Jehan had ever seen. He took one last breath before pushing open the door, but instead of seeing his brother, he saw another man standing in front of his father's desk, his hands on his hips.

The man's head turned to face Jehan, his brown eyes met the prince's with an emotion he couldn't quite place. He was dressed in a regal suit similar to Jehan's. He was cleanly shaved, no stubbles on his face whatsoever, although his build was much lankier than Jehan's who's form was more toned. "What are you doing here?" The man questioned. "Where's father?"

Jehan rolled his eyes and shrugged. "I was going to ask you the same thing. He summoned me."

"Well, he summoned me too."

"Quiet. The both of you."

Both men's heads turned to the doorway where King Charlemagne emerged. His face was set in annoyance as he circled the room to sit in the velvet chair to face his sons.

"Do you need something from us, father?" Jehan inquired.

Charles scoffed. "If I didn't need something from you, Jehan, I wouldn't have called you in here, now would I?"

Jehan clenched the inside of his jaw, and the boy next to him spoke up. "What do you need, father?"

"I'm glad someone is finally asking the right questions." He grumbled, reaching into his desk drawer, and revealed a piece of parchment paper sealed with the crocus of Arendelle. "This is an invitation to Arendelle's summer festival. The invitation specifies you, Jehan." The prince nodded, but he knew there was more. "But I'm sending you with a plus one."

Both boys spoke in unison. "What?"

"I don't need a plus one." Jehan growled. "I am perfectly capable of going on my own."

"He's not capable of doing anything." The other protested. "Send me. I-"

"Let. Me. Finish." Charles flared at the both of them. "Both of you should understand. After the mess that disgrace made over there, I will not take chances. As the two oldest of this family, you will both represent your kingdom. Do you understand?"

"Yes."

"No."

Charles and Jehan both looked to the other boy. "No?" The king chuckled softly. "My dear Roger, are you defying me?"

Roger stepped towards his father, placing his hand firmly on the desk. "I'm nobody's second." He hissed. "Especially not his." Roger glared at Jehan. "

Charles rolled his eyes. "I'm not asking you to be his second, I am asking you to accompany your older brother on a diplomatic mission."

"So you're asking me to be his second." Roger corrected. "Absolutely not. Unlike him, I still have dignity."

"And what in the world is that supposed to mean?" Jehan snarled.

"You know exactly what it means." The two boys faced each other, anger clear in both of their eyes. "You power hungry, conniving little snake."

"Jealous brat."

"I wish you'd end up dead just as he did."

"Enough!" Charles's dominant voice quieted the bickering of the two boys immediately. Began had never seen such fury in his father's eyes. "Roger, get. Out."

The boy left without hesitation, knocking into Jehan's shoulder. Jehan shook his head and turned leave. He knew what he had to do. They were done there.

"Jehan, stay for a minute." The Prince turned back towards his father who had pulled out a large stack of papers and a fountain pen, and with diligence, he began signing every single one. "Do you know why I threw Hans into the ocean, Jehan?"

The prince clenched his jaw as he watched his father. "No." He answered. "No, I don't."

"I did it because I could."

Jehan's expression remained emotionless, but the king's words had lit something inside of him. Anger. Sadness. Confusion. "What do you mean?"

Charles didn't take his eyes away from the papers in front of him. "He was weak." He said simply. "He was a disgrace and he was weak, so over the side of the boat he went."

Jehan crosses his arms, digging his nails into his arms. "And you don't care?"

Charles stopped his writing, looking into Jehan's eyes. "Why should I?"

"Because." Jehan spat. "He's your son."

"He is not my son. He is a disgrace. A problem."

Jehan watched his father go back to his work until a thought crossed his mind. His father didn't seem bothered at all. "What if it was me, father?" He spoke through gritted teeth. "What if it was me? Would you have thrown me overboard too?"

Charles barely acknowledged him. "It wasn't you. That answer is frivolous."

Jehan simply chuckled. "You are unbelievable, father." Jehan hissed. "You don't even care."

Charles visibly stiffened, but kept on writing, moving all of his signed papers to one side. "Leave, Jehan."

"No. You really, really don't care, do you?" Anger seeped into Jehan's voice. "You would leave your own sons to die just because thy disgraced you?"

Charles heaved a frustrated sigh. "Jehan..."

"In all honesty, father, what kind of example did you think you were trying to set for the rest of us? What did you hope to accomplish?!"

"I did what I had to do to remove a stubborn stain on our family. And why are you so quick to defend that traitor? I don't recall you having any attatchment to him. Quite the opposite, in fact."

"I don't have to have an attachment to him, but he's still my brother, and he's still your son."

"That disgrace is not my son."

Jehan's brows furrowed in anger. "You didn't used to be like this."

Charles stopped his pen in its tracks. "Out, Jehan. Now."

Jehan didn't move an inch. "You didn't used to be like this before he died." With that, the prince took the invitation from his father's desk and walked quickly to the door, reaching for the handle before his father's words cut through the silence.

"If you want it to be you, then fail." Charles hissed. "Fail in you mission to reconcile with the Queen, then com back home and I'll let you suffer the same fate he did."

Jehan looked over his shoulder, meeting his father's firey eyes. Jehan scoffed once before pushing open the door, slamming it shut behind him, and leaving the room and his father behind.

He felt another presence inside of him. A wave of fatigue washed over him, and the next thing he knew, the man dressed in black was walking at his side, his hands clasped regally behind his back. "Well, didn't that go marvelously well?" Jehan shot him a glare, and the white-haired man chuckled. "Just trying to find a little humor in things."

Jehan scoffed. "There's no humor in throwing your own son off a boat."

The man circled around to Jehan's front, taking both of his shoulders. His touch was soothing, yet there was that underlying darkness Jehan couldn't shake. "What is going through your head?"

Jehan stayed stoic but raised a brow. "Don't you already know that?"

The man shrugged. "I wanted to see if you would tell me first, but I guess that was out of the question."

The man's face inched closer to Jehan who closed his eyes, praying that there was no one else around as he felt the man's soft lips on his own. The softness pressed itself against him again and again in an almost loving way, until Jehan pulled back slightly, looking into the man's violet eyes. "Are you all like this?"

The man raised a brow. "Whatever do you mean?"

Jehan gave the man a once-over. "I mean..."

The man hummed softly and broke away, beginning to walk alongside the Prince. "Yes." He answered. "It's common to prefer our masters if that's what you're asking."

The two went back to simply walking side by side in silence until they reached the door to Jehan's chambers. "Go and entertain yourself. The market has some fine jewels I think."

The man sighed dramatically and ran a hand through his hair. "If you say so." He purred. "I'll be back soon." His voice was sing-song as darkness and shadow surrounded him, when the dark dispersed, the man was nowhere to be found.

Jehan let his gaze linger on where the man had been for a moment before entering his room again, relief washing over him as he saw Melody sitting patiently on the bed. "How did it go?" She asked softly, rising from the mattress.

Jehan ran a hand through his hair and leaned against the door, his eyes closed. "It's my father." He murmured. "It went as well as you would expect it to."

The woman made a small noise, and Jehan felt her fingers begin to creep up his arm, to his shoulder, his neck, then his cheek. He opened his eyes to see her face mere inches in front of him, and subconsciously, his hands fell to her waist. "Well, maybe I can make you feel better." She cooed.

Jehan was the one that closed the gap between the two of them. His eyes shut as her fingers began to rake through his hair, massaging his scalp. It was as relaxing as it was pleasure-inducing. Erotic, addicting, and innocent all at once. Jehan felt his hand press a bit harder into the small of her back. A soft noise came from Melody as their bodies came closer, and their lips pressed harder, passionately against one another. "I'm supposed to go to Arendelle." He murmured as he began to trail kisses along her neck. Melody's only reply was another soft moan. "My father wants me to bring a plus one." He lifted his head slightly, their lips meeting again for a moment before he pulled away, only to see her smile, beaming at him. Nothing could have made him happier.

"Of course." She breathed.

Jehan smiled softly, leaning in to kiss her before he jolted slightly, gasping as he felt her hand, massaging, squeezing between his legs. He swallowed once as her face came closer to his. "Now," She cooed, her voice seductively sweet. "Where were we?"

/

"I always forget how c-c-c-cold it is u-u-up here somet-t-t-times." Anna chattered, rubbing her hands against her arms for heat. Even with Kristoff's arm around her, she still couldn't find a way to warm herself up.

Kristoff chuckled softly. "Well, maybe next time, you should bring a coat." He advised. "Just a friendly suggestion."

Elsa covered her mouth with her hand, fighting a snicker, an Anna gave her a playful scowl. "Yeah, laugh it up, person who can never get cold."

Elsa shrugged as she looked toward her sister. "Well, Kristoff is right. You really should have brought a coat."

Anna rolled her eyes. "Stinker.."

Kristoff smiled at the interaction between the two while Elsa seemed to be off in her own world. She looked at the ground and her hands. There was someone like her, and that person had to be Hans. Had he always had that power? Had he just kept it hidden all this time? She looked up at the sky, where the multicolored lights shimmered brightly, looking down upon her, guiding her towards the answers she needed so desperately. She faced forward, taking a breath. Although the surrounding rocks, dirt, and mud wasn't necessarily where she enjoyed spending most of her time, it was beautiful in its own way that she'd come to appreciate. Kristoff's family was helpful, and they'd help plenty before.

They passed geysers sprouting steam, warm steam that was too warm for Elsa, which was why she stayed far away from them, and Hans's flame. She wanted nothing to do with it heat. With warmth. She jolted slightly when she felt a hand on her shoulder, turning her head to see her sister smiling softly at her. "Hey, it's going to be alright." She reassured her. "Pabbie is going to give us some answers, and everything is going to be fine. We'll have it all settled before the ball happens."

Elsa gave her a look. "How can you be so optimistic? He's dangerous, Anna. He wants to kill us."

"And he'll have to go through me." The redhead declared. "He's not going to kill you. Or me. Or Kristoff. Or Olaf." Anna blinked. "Well, Olaf technically can't die unless you make him... that's a bad thought... but still." She forced herself back on track. "I'm telling you it's going to be okay."

Elsa gave her a warm smile, gently placing a hand on top of her sister's. A rock rolled towards them, and both sister's and Kristoff grinned as it popped open, revealing two eyes and a nose, hair seemingly made of straw, and a magenta necklace of glowing stones around her neck. Her front was covered by a shirt made of moss, and Elsa was simply glad it wasn't her wearing the piece of fabric. "Kristoff's home!" She called in a sweet voice before she bowed. "Your Majesties." The rock troll looked back once at the collection of other rocks around her. "It's nap time for most of them."

Anna giggled and shook her head. "That's fine, Bulda. We're sorry for interrupting." She said. "Where's Pabbie?"

A second rock rolled, cruising against the gravel underneath before its circular figure expanded into another troll-like figure. It was older, this one, walking with a slightly hunched back, or rock, and a necklace of glowing green-yellow around it. It also had a mos-covered front, along with a cape made of grass. "Princess Anna, Kristoff." Pabbie turned to Elsa, giving her a warm smile. "Queen Elsa."

Elsa knelt down to the troll's eyes level, and the troll took her hands in his own. it brought back memories, certainly not fond ones, but his hands were still as smooth as ever. "Pabbie." She said almost nostalgically.

The troll chuckled. "You've grown so much my dear." He mused, and Elsa shook her head.

"We can catch up later, but I have some questions for you."

The troll's face instantly fell. "I'm aware, my child." He rasped. "And I'm sad to say that I cannot tell you."

Kristoff stiffened, Elsa raised a brow, and Anna knelt down in front of the troll. "What do you mean you don't know?" She asked. "You're supposed to know everything."

Pabbie shook his head. "I know many things, my dear, but I cannot tell you why, or how Hans received the power he did."

Elsa frowned, nodding slightly. Her hope had just been dashed, thrown away. The only source of knowledge they had didn't know-

"But," The troll continued. "If you brought him to me, then maybe I could tell you."

Elsa's eyes went slightly wide, and she shook her head. "No, that's alright." She replied quickly. "We'll find another way." She rose from her kneeling position, turning, but she didn't get far as she felt a hand clench around her wrist.

"What are you talking about?" Anna's voice. "He's telling us he can figure it out."

Elsa shook her head, turning to face her sister. "It's a maybe, Anna. And I don't want to risk their lives because I have questions."

Pabbie shook his head. "We have precautions, Queen Elsa." He informed her. "You don't have to worry about us." Elsa bit her lip. She couldn't bring Hans here. She didn't want to. Dread rose up inside of her as she replayed the day in her head. The fire. The flames. "And you don't have to be scared."

Elsa's head turned towards Pabbie who gave her a sympathetic smile. He always seemed to know what he was thinking, and if he didn't have anything to worry about, then why should she? "We'll bring him to you." She said. "Hopefully soon."

Pabbie nodded. "We're not going anywhere." the troll replied.

Elsa smiled and looked to Anna who was now standing, gazing at Elsa with a goofy grin on her face. "We should just bring Pabbie to the castle." the redhead suggested. "He could convince you to do anything." Elsa gave her a look, and Anna corrected herself. "Well, almost anything."

"Thank you, Pabbie." Kristoff said, bending down and scooping the troll into his arms.

"Thank you for coming, my boy. I'll see you soon." Kristoff stood to his full height and waved, turning his back to his home.

"Kristoff!" Bulda called, causing the tall blonde to turn around. "Don't forget to shower!"

Red crept up Kristoff's cheeks, and he quickly turned his head away to Bulda's howling laughter. He buried his face in his hands before he felt someone nudge at his shoulder. He looked up just slightly to see Anna grinning at him. "I know you shower." She said, pecking his cheek quickly.

Kristoff turned crimson, and Elsa laughed. "You'll have a room soon, you two."

This time, it was Anna's turn to blush and Elsa shook her head, smiling up at the lights in the sky.

Let me out!

Pain suddenly swept through her, stinging and sharp. It burned, but she fought against it, suppressing it. Whatever it was.

Let me out!

The pain continued through her, making her arms numb, her chest. it kept seeping downwards until she'd had enough. With the strength she had left, she froze it. THe feeling, the voice. Put a cage around it, trapping it within her mind, a frozen cage that no one could escape from, and the pain stopped. The feeling returned in her arms and in her chest, and she let out a breath of relief.

Until the voice spoke again.

You're going to pay.

A/N: Hey, guys! I know it's been a while. I've barely had any time to write at all, but I really wanted to get this one out. I don't know when the next chapter will be out since I have school, but I'm alive, and I am going to continue this story and see it through until the end, don't worry. I hope you enjoyed it, tell me what you thought in a review, and I'll see you guys next time. :)