Sorry for the wait, guys! Here is chapter two. Hope you like it!

Chapter two: Ice Queen and Viking
Elsa's POV

As soon as I'm close enough, I'm doing everything I can to keep this ship from sinking. I'm freezing everything in sight. But it's going to take more than a little ice to stop this storm...

Suddenly, I panic and I lose control. Something snaps inside of me and the world turns white. I feel a searing pain in my head and I'm aware of my voice screaming. And then everything goes black, and I'm done.

Only when I open my eyes do I realize that I must have passed out.

I take a moment to remember what is happening, then stand up. I'm a little dizzy, and nearly fall over. I grip the rail, and realize that the ship is suspended in a globe of ice.

"Nice one, Elsa. Freeze the ship Elsa. That won't freak anyone out!" I berate myself, frustrated that I lost control of my powers. That hasn't happened all year. Then I realize that there is no one to freak out...

The ship seems deserted.

I'm hoping the sailors survived, but it seems unlikely. I didn't make it in time. They're gone.

I'm beginning to feel pretty sick to my stomach, when I hear a low groan coming from near the front of the ship.

There is a man tied to the helm. When I say tied, I mean he was half tied- half frozen to the wheel, but either way, he was stuck.

He was also unconscious. Since he was unconscious, I decided to take a look at him. I mean, it's not everyday I get the chance to examine a real Viking.

There is no doubt in my mind that this man is a Viking. Everything about him screams Viking. His long reddish-brown hair is hanging down to his shoulders in a very messy tangled mess that most likely used to be a braid. His leather armor was tattered and worn, and the plain green and brown clothes he wore were for practical use: warm coverage was all they provided. They were not fashionable at all.

"I guess Vikings don't care much about fashion," I say softly, for some reason a smile appearing on my face as I look at this mountain of a man. He has strong, chiseled features, a small hooked nose, fair skin, and a cleft chin. That and the tangled mess of copper-colored hair. He's quite handsome, actually.

I shake myself, mortified. This man could be dying! And I'm thinking about how handsome he is. I can feel my face burning- a funny sensation for me, the Queen of Cold.

"Hey," I say softly, gently shaking his shoulder. "Wake up..." He groaned again, and rolled his head from one shoulder to the other. Reminds me of trying to wake up Anna. She'd roll over and beg for five more minutes. "No, no, no! Come on now, Viking. Wake up for me. Please."

He slowly opened his eyes, blinking in the brilliant light. The sun shining through the ice dome I made creates a dazzling effect. Maybe it's a but much for him right now... Oh, well.

"Welcome to the land of the living. I'm Queen Elsa of Arendelle. And you are...?" Shoot. He's just been through a near-death experience and I'm sounding like an insensitive jerk. He stared at me for a moment, then smirked.

"Dirk Dagursson the Berserker." I have chills running up and down my spine just from hearing his voice. It's so deep and rich! If I didn't have any self control, I might swoon.

"Well, Dirk Dagursson the Berserker," I say, managing to keep my voice from shaking, "Let's get you out of the cold." I untie him, and he falls forward. I catch him by the arms- they are so thick and hard, he's so powerful- and I'm struggling to keep him upright.

"I can stand on my own, Princess!" He snaps. Offended by his harsh tone, I immediately let go and step away. He immediately falls to his knees. I smile at him sweetly and take a step forward.

"Actually, I'm the Queen. But you really don't need to kneel; it's quite unnecessary." I hold out my hand, and wait for him to take it. He scowls at me and lets me help him up.

"Thanks," he grumbles. He's still very uneasy in his feet, even with my arm around his waist. I'm not exactly doing so well in the walking department either: it's hard to even think straight when I'm this close to such a... a man.

"I'll help you back to the castle and then come back and search for any more survivors," I say, trying to sound reassuring. He tenses up and turns to look me straight in the eyes. His eyes are the palest, bluest eyes I've ever seen. They're beautiful, and the deep sorrow mirrored in them makes them even more beautiful.

"There are no more survivors," he says. "I'm the only one. They're all dead."

And with that, he fell in a crumpled heap to the deck.

All of his men, his friends, maybe some of them were even his family... All dead.

And I know exactly how he feels.

Before anyone asks: YES, Dirk is the son of Dagur the Deranged. I hope no one kills me. I just love him so much! Eehhhh, Dirk, not Dagur. Dagur is awesome, but Dirk is awesomer. Someday you will understand!

Anywaaayyy, stay tuned for the next chapter! READ AND REVIEW, PLEASE! :)

Seriously, Review. I love reviews. And when people review I check out their profiles and read their stories. And leave reviews. So yeah. Reviewwww. Please.

Goodbye :) Hope you liked it!