When Elsa was eleven years old, she used to be fascinated with the illustrated Bible on her bookshelf. It was written in Latin, so she could not read it by herself, but she would spend hours looking at the gorgeous drawings that went around the borders of each page with text, and filled up the pages without text. Her favorite page had a picture of a man sleeping on the ground, while a golden staircase glowed beside him. No house, just a staircase that seemed to lead into the sky.

"That is Jacob," her father had explained. "He is running away from his brother. They had a terrible fight."

"Is he going to go up that staircase?"

Her father had shook his head. "The staircase is for angels, not humans. It's how God gave Jacob a sign that He was watching over him."

Elsa had been confused. She was a practical child, so she wondered, what was the point of a staircase that you didn't climb?

The next page showed Jacob meeting a beautiful lady by a well. The first time she was looking through it, Elsa had hoped that Jacob and the lady would go back to the staircase and climb it together...but they never did. On the next page, they took care of sheep and had a baby. Elsa had always felt a bit disappointed when she reached that page.

Now, the story of Jacob came to mind again. She had run away from home, just like him. Just like him, she had lost everything. Except Jacob had already hurt his brother. She had left had before Anna could get hurt. Perhaps, that made her wiser?

Anna stared at the icy trail left over the fjord. Her eyes burned.

I couldn't stop her.

"Did you know?" Hans asked, helping her up.

"No," Anna said quietly.

It was beginning to snow.

The duke was shouting behind them, his face burgundy. "The queen has cursed this land!"

"What?" Anna said. "Elsa wouldn't – "

"Is there sorcery in you too?" The duke pointed his finger into Anna's face. "Are you a monster too?"

Anna rememembered her mother's lessons on etiquette and took a deep breath. "I'm completely ordinary," she snapped. "And my sister is not a monster!"

Marta, the castle housekeeper, approached, handing Anna her shawl. "It's getting chilly, Anna." She fluffed her graying blond hair. She glanced at the duke. "Would you like to come inside?" she said pointedly.

The duke wasn't finished. "She nearly killed me!"

"You slipped on ice," Hans said reasonably.

Anna turned to Hans. She was so grateful for his presence right then. It was clear he was a person who did not panic even when things went horribly wrong. She tried to take on his logical tone and explain things calmly. "It was an accident. She was scared. She didn't mean it. She didn't mean any of this!"

The group of people that had gathered looked back at her, unbelieving.

Anna turned to Marta. "You talked to the other servants regularly. Did you know?"

"Her chambermaid is mute. She had no other servants."

"Naturally!" the duke said.

Hans put a firm arm on the duke's shoulder. "Go inside," he ordered.

"But - "

"Princess Anna is upset and you're contributing. Go inside."

The duke went.

Anna couldn't help but smile. It was pleasant to be protected like that.

Meanwhile, Marta was saying, "I knew there was somethin' odd about her. Queen Elsa wasn't using coal in her fireplace, you see. Her servant Helga always took coal for her room in the winter but then, Helga always went home to her family on the weekends, carryin' somethin' heavy in a sack. Tried to keep it a secret too. I suspected it might have been all of that unused coal."

"The queen didn't get cold?" Hans asked, amazed.

"And you never told me about it?" Anna felt bitter tears in her eyes. Everyone had lied to her with their silence.

"It seemed odd, that's all. I didn't know what to make of it. I knew nothin' about magical powers. Had I known, I don't know if I would have stayed at the palace." Marta sighed. "Maybe I would stay for your sake, Anna. You've been through so much already..."

Anna stared and clearly saw the separation. She was 'Anna'. Elsa was 'her majesty.' Servants would stay for her, but nobody would stay for Elsa. She had never given them a reason to love her.

Nobody loved Elsa. And yet, she had been the one with the burden of preparing to be queen. And the burden of keeping her powers secret. And the same burden that Anna had carried for three years, the grief of losing mother and father. Who was Elsa really? Anna wondered. How had she managed all these years? Was there any way to find out?

"Tonight was my fault," Anna said. "I pushed her. So I'm the one that needs to go after her."

Marta's eyes narrowed. "That's ridiculous! Send a search party. Write an apology letter and have them take it. It will take awhile but they'll find her eventually. You know she won't freeze out there. On the other hand, you might."

A letter? Just like the one Elsa had passed to her after the funeral? I love you. Go away. Don't knock on my door again. The memory still stung. It had been so much and still so far from enough.

"It has to be me," Anna said. She swallowed hard. "Nobody else cares like I do."

Hans put his hands on her shoulders and looked into her eyes. "It's too dangerous."

"Elsa isn't dangerous," Anna said. "Please, saddle my horse!" she called. "And put some hot cider in the saddlebag!"

"Let me come with you!"

Anna hesitated, tempted. It would be lovely. But who would rule with her and Elsa gone? Hans was calm and intelligent and rational. Exactly, the sort of person that was needed.

"I need you to stay here and take care of Arendale until I...until we return."

Hans stared. A blush of pleasure colored his face. "On my honor."

I love you, Anna thought. But the words felt odd and thick on her tongue. She didn't say them.

She took the saddlebag, gave the weeping Marta a brief hug and rode into the woods.

Elsa decided to make a snowman.

She did not know why she started with that in particular. Perhaps, as a warm up for the staircase. A cold warm-up, she thought, smiling.

She let the snow zip through her fingers and into the air. It didn't fly randomly when she was choosing to let it fly. It landed almost exactly where she meant it to. The feeling in her fingers was...silvery. She didn't know how else to describe it. Silvery and strong. When she was finished, she stepped back and studied her handiwork. It was a wonderful snowman, jolly and plump.

It hurt to look at it.

Elsa turned away. She couldn't have Anna as a friend no matter what choices she made. Not behind a closed door, not on a high mountain. At least, now, she could have herself. Herself and a staircase to her own personal heaven.

She let the silvery feeling gather in her hands and then she let it go.