Chapter Two: The Dream
There were days -most days, to be precise- when Princess Anna was nothing short of joyful and exuberant. On those days, she felt as though she were the most blessed person in the world. She had the love of Arendelle's populace, a castle full of things she enjoyed, and a good friend who, she hoped, might one day become more than just a friend, officially speaking. What's more, she had a family again; for all the ups and downs of the past year and a half, the bond she had forged with Elsa had held firm. On those days, the mere knowledge of this might be enough to make her smile. If she was in an especially good mood, she might even grin triumphantly- perhaps slide down the balustrade like a giddy little girl. She supposed she might be overdoing it, but there was no denying that she really was that happy.
And then there were days when she felt a gnawing emptiness in a corner of her mind, as though she were forgetting something. Something important, but distant- a puff on the wind that was there and gone. On those days, she would take to the library, devouring books in an effort to distract herself. But the romances she had once considered her bread and butter no longer held the same attraction for her that they once had; whenever she read them now, they were little more than time-filler, a desperate attempt to stave off nagging feeling that something was…missing.
As far back as Anna could recall, she had had the white streak in her hair. She had been born with it, or so she had been told by her parents. She had taken to it fondly, had considered it a badge of uniqueness. And yet, it was gone now, a casualty of the thawing of her heart.
Which is precisely why she had since become more curious about it.
She remembered the dream she had once had not long after her sixth birthday. She had been playing in the snow with Elsa when, predictably, a snowball fight had broken out. She had then suddenly found herself unconscious, without any explanation at all. After some hours she had woken up within the dream to the pressure of lips on her forehead. A troll had been bending over her.
"She'll be just fine," the troll had been saying as it straightened itself. "No harm done…at least that she's done to herself."
She had only just managed to catch a glimpse of the troll. Like Grand Pabbie, the patriarchal figure of Kristoff's adopted family, this troll had sported a green beard and eyebrows. But his voice had been very different somehow, and not just in the sense that it was even more gravelly. Anna had been unable to place exactly how, but there had been a strong hint of anger behind that voice which she had never once heard from Pabbie. His robes were likewise very different, being a frosty white. And eyes, too, had been unique- a solid, bright green.
He had looked at her again, then. She had known she was safe, but there had been something about the troll's gaze that was…sad? Angry? Bitter? Frustrated? Perhaps it had been all of those things at once. Whatever the case, she had been drawn to his eyes, so much so that they were the last thing Anna remembered seeing before she had woken up.
After, she had woken up, the next thing she remembered was being in her own bed, with her father and mother sitting on chairs to her left. The questions had come instantly: what had happened? What was she doing here? Hadn't she been in a snowball fight with her sister?
And then had come the answers, the calm reassurances. She had just been dreaming, they said.
"But it seemed so real," Anna had said.
"Dreams often do," Queen Idun had replied. "But they're not. They're just weird mixtures of things we've seen, or done, or read, or…you know."
"You've read all about trolls in your books, remember?" Adgar had added. "And the snowball fight is something that happened a year ago."
At that moment, Anna had shaken her head, allowing some of her hair to fall in front of her face.
"My…my white streak."
She had pushed the group of hairs in question aside.
"Your lucky streak," Adgar had said, smiling. "Must've been what kept that snowball from hitting you harder."
Anna tossed aside the book she was holding and glanced about the castle's ornate library at nothing in particular. She blew a frustrated sigh; it was clearly going to be one of those days.
It shouldn't be a problem. I asked Kristoff about the other time he saw Grand Pabbie remove ice from a girl, and he told me it was some other kid. That should've settled it. But if mom and dad lied about Elsa…
…Where am I even getting these thoughts? Why haven't I had them before so strongly? And why now?
Her gaze fell upon a hunky looking man with a shock of blonde hair.
"Kristoff!"
She bolted upright- at least, she tried to. She wound up toppling backwards, along with the chair she had been sitting in. As she did so, one of her legs shot into the air, striking short stack of books on the table she had been sitting at and sending the volumes earthwards, onto the ebony-carpeted floor.
His expression unperturbed, and perhaps a little longsuffering, Kristoff stepped away from the pillar he had been leaning against. Arriving beside the flustered princess, he stretched one hand towards her
"Thought I'd find you here," he said as she pulled herself upright on his arm.
"Yeah. You would." Anna's eyes strayed everywhere but at Kristoff. "I was just…um...I was just…"
Spotting the book she had been reading, she snatched it from the table. "I was just reading one of my favorite books."
"May I see?"
Anna clutched the book protectively to her chest. "No."
"I want to see."
His tone was calm, steady, reassuring; Anna relented. "Well, alright," she said. "But no teasing."
Kristoff took the book in his hands and read the title in a steady voice.
"A Bestiary of Arendelle."
A cloth bookmark marked one page. Opening the volume to that point, Kristoff read the title at its top:
"Trolls and their Magical Abilities."
He glanced up at Anna. "The dream back in your head again?
Anna nodded. "Yeah."
Kristoff shook his head. "I can't tell you anything I didn't already tell you a year ago, when you first told me about it."
"I know. And I know you wouldn't lie to me. But my thoughts, my doubts, are back something fierce."
"It was just a dream. Didn't mean a thing."
"You're probably right. But something in my head, it just seems like it's, you know, gone."
Kristoff arched an eyebrow. He set down the book on the table. "Gone? You mentioned this once before, I think."
"I don't think about it too much, but it came back to me just now –I mean today- and..."
Anna stopped. Her eyes widened. "I think there's a connection between the dream and my old lucky streak, and…Elsa?" She shook her head, and then blinked. "Elsa? Where's Elsa?"
"She's in her office- hey, wait? Where're you going?"
Anna had already started to race off when she heard Kristoff's inquiry. She spun about on one heel, holding up both hands.
"Wait here!" she cried. "I've gotta talk to Elsa!"
She spun again and headed straight for the door, almost crashing into Gerda, who was entering the library at that moment.
"Whoops, sorry!" she cried. Not pausing to hear whatever Gerda had said in reply, Anna dashed away in the direction of the royal office.