Monotony. Tedium. Repetition. These were the words Elsa would use to describe the current proceedings. She thought she'd be more excited about the prospect of doing something of actual meaning and usefulness since becoming Queen. Her motivation certainly hadn't waned, yet sitting here overlooking the Chancellor and other advisors she felt a distinct lack of interest. The tax on imported wood- whether it should be raised by a half a percent. Whether to rename the roads exiting Arendelle. When to order new coats for the guards in the winter. She glanced at the clock, hoping some substantial time had gone by. She'd be certain it was standing still if it wasn't for the persistent swinging of the pendulum. She was still staring at the clock when she finally heard one of the advisors attempting to get her attention.

"Your majesty? Your majesty, would you care to offer your valuable opinion on the matter?" He tread carefully, his tone innocent. The Queen wasn't paying attention, which was inconvenient and also something that could not be addressed directly.

Elsa tore her eyes away from the clock, which she was certain had stopped completely. A punishment of purgatory she was sure she deserved for any number of reasons. Her head felt numb from two hours of discussion and debate about matters she couldn't be sure were relevant or important. She supposed that's what advisors were for. She raised her eyebrows at the one before her and attempted to look thoughtful and focused.

"Yes, of course. I trust your judgement."

The advisor, Andor, sighed. It wasn't a yes or no question that he was asking, but clearly the monarch's mind was elsewhere. The two hours he'd spent with her were follow-up to three hours spent in meetings with citizens of Arendelle. Discontented citizens that felt owed compensation from a Queen that had introduced her reign with a destructive demonstration of her power. Even he was all too aware of the potential consequences of an unhappy Queen. Best to leave things be and avoid being the cause of frustration. Frustration leads to anger, which Andor knew had a unique manifestation in this context.

"Of course, your majesty." He did not point out the difficulty of choosing between two options of trade route repairs with a royal declaration of 'yes'. He pursed his lips, "Thank you for your guidance in the matter."

Elsa had a vague sense that 'yes' was not an appropriate answer, but she couldn't recall what the question was to begin with. After a morning of harsh appraisals it was all she could do to feign even some façade of attention. She had faith that the advisors she surrounded herself with had Arendelle's best intentions as the top priority. They had been hand-picked by her father, who cared more about the safety of the kingdom than anything else. A fact Elsa was all too aware of. He always put kingdom first, she reflected bitterly, for better or worse.

That cursed clock, she thought, her mind instantly drawn back to what she'd come to believe was the ultimate manifestation of evil. Before her advisors could proceed any further she drew a deep breath, straightened herself up and regarded the group before her.

"I think that is enough for the morning." She considered giving some explanation about having other vital duties to attend to but remembered it was unnecessary and probably inappropriate for a Queen to make excuses. One of the perks of being ruler.

"Leave the rest of the papers in my study, I will look them over and we will resume this discussion tomorrow. You're dismissed." She said, with a tone of finality.

"Of course your majesty." Andor sighed and rose with the rest of the advisors. They exited the room murmuring to one another.

Probably about the unproductivity of the meeting, Elsa sighed. Not the best way to end the assembly, but the only option she could tolerate at the moment. After everyone had exited she turned to one of the staff standing nearby. She tried to sound impassionate and not in any way desperate as she as she addressed the worker.

"Have someone take a look at that clock." She gestured toward the instrument of darkness, "It seems to be broken."

The servant raised her eyebrows in surprise. The clock matched every other in the castle.

"Is your majesty sure? I believe it is in sync with all the-"

"Yes, I am certain." Elsa's eyes widened in distress, but she quickly collected herself, "I am…quite positive it is malfunctioning."

"Yes your majesty, as you wish."

"And please have someone summon Princess Anna." Elsa added, "Tell her I will meet her in the library."

"Right away your majesty." The servant bowed and exited the room.

Alone at last Elsa sank back in her chair, exhausted. Her head and heart ached as the faces of angry, hurt and scared citizens flashed through her mind. The arms of her chair frosted over, a ring of ice forming beneath her. This was her world now, like it or not. She briefly thought wistfully of her frozen palace atop the North Mountain. The ring of ice expanded as her thoughts turned to the freedom she'd felt, uninhibited and able to express herself and her powers without the burden of hurting others. She was ashamed for missing any part of the ice palace, but nevertheless there it was. Perhaps she could find a reason, some excuse to visit…but no. She shook her head. I have to believe it will get better, she told herself. Make the repairs, earn their trust, their respect, their loyalty. In some ways those were the responsibilities of any ruler. I am not so terminally unique, and I am not alone, she reminded herself. She drew in a deep breath and squinted her eyes tightly shut, turning her hands so her palms faced up. The ice briefly expanded, reaching toward the walls, toward freedom, before finally reluctantly retreating. Elsa at last finished pulling the ice back to her core. Cautiously opening her eyes she glanced down and saw no trace of snow or ice.

Is this my greatest gift to offer? Elsa's shoulders slumped. She bit her lip as her eyes wandered from the carpet, dry and unremarkable, to her hands, lying quiet and motionless. What if it was? The most important step she'd made with her powers was her ability to reverse them. Love will thaw. She contemplated the meaning behind such words. Love. Love had undone the damage of her powers; what if it truly was the antithesis of her abilities? She believed her powers could be used for good or evil, but whatever their origin in Elsa they didn't come from a place of love. Love was their undoing, and grateful as she was to have gained some measure of control, Elsa was terrified of what the true source of her powers could be. There was so much to learn about herself, and such introspection had never come naturally to her. She was afraid of where it could lead, or what truths she could uncover. She rose to leave the room and paused at the door, glancing back. The room looked empty, the chairs pushed in, the carpet dry and the windows clear. Not a trace of winter to be seen.