More singing! At this rate I'll have a song in nearly every chapter.

Chapter 4

Elsa

Was

EVERWHERE.

She had never conceived of such a breadth and depth of existence. The cold winds and winter storms of the world- of the Earth- blew across the thousands and millions of miles, and every gust, every hail piece, every snowflake was an eye and ear. Yet somehow this brush with omniscience didn't drive her mad. Why? She didn't care. All she knew is that, wherever there was snow and ice, there she was. And what she saw! What she heard!

She was on the icy peaks of great Kilimanjaro in Africa, where below her lions and hyenas warred for space. She looked out from the Harz range in Corona, festooned with castles and forts of every shape. She swept over the sea, over the ancient towers of Atlantica, gold and sunken. She blew over deserts, she swirled over forests. She whipped across the polar caps. In the North, handfuls of lonely settlements sent up light against the endless darkness. In the South, beneath glaciers, weird and elder things tended great cities in the gloom.

Yet still Elsa kept her own mind. And she wondered... could she do more than see? Maybe I can... shape it, she thought in her ubiquitousness. Maybe she could exert her will upon Winter.

So she drove herself into the heart of the North Pole, made herself the center of the top of the world. All cold, all snow, all ice seemed to emanate from this apex of the North, and Elsa perched her spirit upon its surface. She rose her being into the Arctic sky, and threw apart her influence like a billowing cloak. She willed the cold and snow and ice to follow her command.

And they did. Storms swirled into being. Blizzards twirled into the air across the entire northern hemisphere. It astounded Elsa how easy it all was. She shouldn't have been able to command the storms so effortlessly... should she? But then, she knew nothing about the workings of the seasons and their strange, elder gods. Maybe she was the only influence on the cold that there was. Maybe all the Winter had to listen to... was her.

But her trillion eyes and ears saw so many things. Parents hurried their children inside. Cattle lowed furiously as they struggled to avoid the snowflakes. Cries went up from cities and towns, coal plants were shut down. All things moved in united terror of her sudden, vicious storms.

No!, thought Elsa. I don't want to hurt anyone!

So with much reluctance, she withdrew her might. She rolled back the storms and pulled away the flurries. She dumped them all where they were meant to be- on Arendelle, on Russia, on Sweden, on the furthest northern ice caps. She knew what she was capable of, at least in part. There was something in her soul- she would have said her heart, but she didn't really have one any more- that told her she could have done so much more. But she had at least a basic idea of her strength.

And now it was time to really see things. So she burst apart. She saw lovers consummating in the moonlight. She saw families huddled close against snowstorms. She saw animals scurrying through silent, wintry forests. She saw lonely vagabonds, soldiers on the march, weary laborers, royal dignitaries on a mission. She beheld all of this, and she saw it in a single glance. In one moment, everything happening in range of the cold and snow was hers to see. And still she stayed sane! It was almost baffling how she could comprehend everything. But she chose not to question it for now. She chose, rather, to be thrilled. It was time to explore.

Through all the day, Elsa watched and listened. She swirled through great cities, she froze into great canyons. She crept into the leaky windows of houses, she snuck into barns between gaps in the framing. Wherever there was cold and shivering, there was she. She heard a billion secrets, she saw a million heartbreaks, she watched a thousand kisses of true love. And it made her feel strangely, vaguely lonely, which surprised her. She wasn't even a person any more, not really. But she still felt like one.

As darkness fell over Arendelle, Elsa swirled back into being atop the North Mountain. She conjured a mirror, a sheet of ice, and examined herself. Same glacial-ice-blue skin. Same snow-white hair. This was her now, she was forced to admit. There was a tinge of sadness in reflecting on her lost humanity, but it was drowned in the rush of delight that came from the Winter around her and in her and above her and through her. She breathed and the snowflakes shuddered. She flicked her wrist and a blizzard came storming down the mountain. She had always commanded the cold and the snow, but now she felt the snow when it moved. Every flake was an extension of herself.

And yet, still she didn't fully comprehend the change that had taken place. There was so much more, so much more to understand, to see, to learn. Elsa was eager to get started- too eager, in fact, to wait patiently while she discovered her capabilities on her own. I wish there was someone with me, she thought. Someone else, someone who understands better than I could.

And she heard something at the edge of the snow's expanse. Scraping, sliding, schiff schiffng down one of the slopes far below her. Elsa burst into flakes and swirled down the mountain, where she reformed at its base.

Someone was skiing down the mountain, a light shape that was barely visible against the whiteness of the snow, glowing in the darkness of the night. Elsa noted that the figure seemed unusually large, and her instincts were confirmed as the figure grew closer. It was a human-shaped thing, though its stature dwarfed the average man, and certainly the average woman, which was important because the figure coming close was female.

She was of huge size, but comely shape, her body sturdy yet feminine. Her skin was the same cold, icy blue as Elsa's, but it was firm and sturdy where Elsa was slim and light. Her hair was deep, dark blue, and billowed behind her as she slid down the slope. Her torso was wrapped in bushy white fur; as she drew closer, Elsa saw that she was actually wearing a polar bear skin, the dead beast's great head propped up on the woman's broad shoulder. She skied without poles, using her legs alone. She drew closer and closer until she banked hard to the right and slid to a stop barely a dozen feet from Elsa. This close, Elsa could see her face. It was beautiful, but severe, and more than a little cruel.

Her skis were made of ice, and as she lifted her feet they vanished in swirls of water. Her feet- her bare feet- tramped across the snow toward Elsa, who shrank back a little at her approach. She was truly enormous, towering over Elsa and making almost two of her in width. She stopped just before Elsa, peering down her elegant nose at the smaller ice elemental.

Elsa raised a hand. "Are you... who are you?"

"I am the one you summoned," said the giantess. "You wished for a guide? Here I am. You plucked me from the depths of Winter." Her voice was thick and firm. She smiled, though it did not reach her eyes. "I thank you for that, by the way. Too long have I been trapped in Winter, stuck in the space between the flakes. It is good to stretch myself again, to move and feel and think as I did of old when Odin ruled in Asgard."

Odin? Asgard? Elsa's eyes went wide. Those were names from the ancient days of Arendelle, when the unchurched worshiped gods of things and times and places, wild gods who were cruel and barbaric. "Are you of the Aesir?" Elsa asked. She had read plenty of treatises on the old faiths.

"Ha!" the giantess laughed, a deep rumble. "Ha ha ha! No, little iceling, the Aesir would never have me, though all their men craved my beauty. I am a jötunn, one of those who came before. I am the Lady of Winter, the Queen of the Mountains, the Master of the Hunt. You might call me Skadi."

"I know your name," Elsa said. "I've read it before in the records that survive. You were married to..." she tilted her head, trying to recall her research on the eddas, "... Freyr, yes?"

"The less said about my husband, the better," Skadi rumbled. She crossed her powerful arms over her chest. "He is not relevant now. What is relevant is you, My Queen."

"Queen?" Elsa repeated. "I'm not your queen. You're a goddess, aren't you? I should take orders from you."

"You would think that," said Skadi, turning and walking toward the bank of snowy trees nearby. Elsa followed, having to jog to keep up with Skadi's long strides. "But the times are not what they once were. Mortal men do not listen to the old gods any longer. No, all I can do is instruct you, little iceling, as I have before to those who called me."

Elsa stopped in her tracks. "Before?" she repeated. "This has happened... before?"

"Do you think you are the only one born to command the weather? The elements? The seasons?" Skadi asked. "And of those, do you think you are the only one to surrender to the season's call? I tell you, you are not the first, and you will not be the last." Skadi smiled bitterly. "Or perhaps you will be the last? There are so few of your kind any more."

"I admit, I've never heard of anyone else like me," said Elsa.

"But I must tell you," Skadi said, turning around to look more completely at Elsa, "you are more... intact, at this point, than those I have previously mentored. You have more of your shape, and far more of your mind. I felt you in the snow and ice today, noted the way you stretched around the world." Her eyebrows rose. "For you to have exerted yourself as you did and to still possess so much of your own sanity is impressive. You must have great control."

"I... I suppose," Elsa said. "I've spent nearly my entire life suppressing my magic. It's only been in the last year that I've truly unleashed it."

Skadi's expression changed suddenly. A hungry look crossed her face that had not before been present. "Have you now?" she asked. "So... you have spent much of your life keeping your power restrained?"

"Yes," Elsa said.

"Interesting," Skadi glanced shiftily to the side. "So different than those I have met before. And perhaps a blessing in disguise." She put fingers to her chin and dipped that in thought. Elsa wandered around her, hoping desperately that she hadn't angered Skadi. Regardless of her claims of powerlessness, she was still a goddess, and it wouldn't be wise to upset her. But when Skadi looked on her again, it was with an expression of delight. "I should like to test you, Elsa of Arendelle. I should like to see how much you are capable of."

Elsa felt a thrill go up her icy spine- or where her spine would be if she still had one. "I'm ready."

"Your first test is to follow me," said Skadi. "Keep up!" she burst into snowflakes and was swept away by the wind.

Elsa blew herself apart and swirled around, trying to find Skadi. She once again peered through millions of flakes, using them all as eyes, until she detected the swirl of the goddess. Occasionally the snowflakes would come together just so to make a perfect likeness of her, and this was what Elsa followed, her own body occasionally coming together in ideal swirls of snow. Elsa chased Skadi up and up, past Arendelle, into the wilderness, up distant mountains, further and further until the ground became covered in ice and ice fog lay across the barren expanses. Whales breached in the cold waters below. Ice flows floated in the sea.

At last, Skadi stepped back into solid form on the polar ice. Elsa followed shortly after, her bare blue feet padding on the ice. Of course she felt no cold. She didn't feel much of anything, really; it was like a veil of numbness had passed over her body, and she only really experienced touch when snowflakes around her came into contact with ice, the ground, or each other.

"The North Pole," Skadi said. "The apex of Winter, where ice and snow live eternally. Its heart is old, its power is strong. Let me see if you can wield it." She swept her hand across the ice caps, and they began to shift and rise. Huge legs grew up out of the ice, uniting into thick torsos and splitting out again into long arms. Spiked heads emerged, and three great colossi began to lumber toward Elsa.

She raised her eyebrow and turned toward Skadi. "What are those for?"

"They carry the spirit of the polar ice within them," Skadi said. "Take command of them now, if you can."

"What?" Elsa asked. "That's your test?"

"Try if you can," said Skadi, "but doubtless you will find the task- oh!"

Elsa had already stretched out her icy blue hand. The golems' walking began to slow, then came entirely to a halt. A shudder went through them, and they stood a little straighter, stood a little firmer. Elsa twisted her hand, and the colossi began to sway back and forth. In a few moments her silent commands to them were clear: they were dancing.

"How did you do that?" Skadi asked. "I put so much willpower into them!"

"Was it supposed to be difficult?" Elsa asked, unable to keep a little arrogance out of her voice. "I didn't have to try."

Skadi's face lit up in an entirely unsettling way. "Command the ice more," she said, "the polar ice. It's one thing to create it- it's another to destroy it. Melt the ice with your mind."

"Is this another test?"

"Just do it!" Skadi said, all traces of her stateliness gone.

"Ugh, fine," Elsa said. She flicked her wrist and the polar ice evaporated, melting into water whose sudden change in temperature caused the frigid sea to steam.

Skadi gazed over her shoulder, bewilderment on her stern features. "You're still not trying, are you?"

"A little," Elsa admitted.

"Try," Skadi said. "Freeze more of the sea, and really try. Exert yourself!"

"All right, all right," Elsa said, thrills racing through her icy body. She stretched out her hands over the sea. She lowered her eyebrows in intense focus. And she let her power go.

With huge, roaring cracks, the sea began to freeze. The ice grew thick, and it grew long, stretching far in front of her. Spikes of ice began to sprout from the sea, swirling twists and warps of frozen shapes. Still Elsa exerted herself, and the ice grew thicker, the ice spread further. It spread and spread and spread until it stretched into the horizon, hundreds of miles of salt water going solid and still.

"Magnificent," Skadi said, hunger on her face. "Absolutely magnificent!"

"I assume I pass the test, then?" Elsa asked.

"I never thought there would be one like you!" Skadi crowed, pulling away from Elsa, pacing back and forth across the ice. "You're so unlike the rest! They're always so weak, so uncontrolled, and by this point in their first or second day they're gibbering fools ready to blast themselves into oblivion-"

"What exactly do you mean?" Elsa said.

"Elsa," said Skadi, "my dear, dear iceling. I told you you were not the first... but perhaps I was wrong. Maybe you are the first and only one of your kind. So many of those gifted with the magic of winter have been unable to maintain their own strength against its influence. They don't control the ice and snow- it controls them, and eventually it gobbles them up until they cease to exist." She smiled wickedly. "But you're not like them, My Queen. You're different. You're better. I don't know why, exactly- maybe it was all your years of suppression- but the Winter bends to you in ways I've never seen it do before."

"And that's... good?" Elsa asked.

"It's perfect!" Skadi crowed. "You can be what I have craved for so long, what Winter has so long needed. This Winter- your Winter- can be one like no other."

"I don't understand," Elsa said.

"Come with me," said Skadi. She billowed up into the sky. Elsa rapidly followed.

They at last came to a stop high in the air. They weren't solid bodies at this height; they were clusters of snow, flickering in the wind like glinting black-and-white photos. It was nighttime still, and when Elsa looked down she saw the huge land, the continent of Europe, dark save for some blocks of light in cities and towns. But she could also see everything within range of snowflakes, so her vision of hamlets and communes and cities and villages was more than mortal.

"Elsa," said Skadi, "what do you see, when you look down?"

Elsa peered through all her snowy eyes, listened through all her snowy ears. "I see all the kingdoms of Europe."

"So you do," said Skadi, sweeping her hand across the sky. "And they can all be yours. They deserve all to be yours."

"They do?" Elsa asked.

"My Queen," said Skadi, "do you know what I see?" She scowled down. "I see arrogance. I see insolence. I see foolishness." And Skadi began to sing.

Don't you feel it?

Don't you see it?

Don't you know it in your bones?

Well, not bones- you don't need

Those any more.

Can't you tell it?

Don't you know it?

Do I have to flatly show it?

You're so much more than

Just an ice witch now.

"Elsa," Skadi said, "humans used to fear the Winter. Used to cower from it, used to crawl into their caves and huts and shudder at it. You are Winter now, so you remember... don't you?"

Elsa remembered. Elsa remembered primitive man fleeing the snowstorms. Remembered them huddled pathetically around their fires. Remembered the deaths of those foolish enough to be caught outside amongst the ice. It was so strange and sudden, but she felt a yearning for those days. How quickly her temperament had changed.

"But now they don't," said Skadi. "They think they've beaten you, Elsa. They think with their brick and mortar, with their furnaces and factories, they have driven you away. They think they have mastered you, Elsa, and that you are no longer of concern."

Something came over Elsa at this. Something sharp and cold filled her spirit. When she really thought about it, Skadi was right. Christmastime was proof enough- humans considered Winter a time of celebration, a time of merriment. They no longer respected it. No longer respected her. But what about Anna? No, didn't Anna laugh at Winter like the rest?

And wasn't she tired of never being respected? Nobody had ever listened to her, and always tried to order her about, tell her what to do. Even when she was queen, she had never been free until her magic had been unleashed. Now she was freer than ever, and there was still so much insolence. Her sympathies, her consideration of circumstances, all the tiny subtle things that humans did were blowing away from her as the Winter in her- the Winter she was- manifested its infinite coldness. Elsa sang softly.

I can see it, I can feel it,

Every person wears a smile,

They crack and jape when

My storms tumble down.

Shall I stand it?

Shall I bear it?

Shall let them get away?

Or shall I remind them just who wears the crown?

"Yes! Yes!" Skadi cackled. "They've forgotten about Winter, Elsa. They've forgotten about you."

Elsa's lip curled in a sneer, filled with an icy disgust that would have appalled her just twenty-four hours ago. She stretched out one swirling snowflake arm. "Perhaps it's time I reminded them."

Skadi could not suppress her grin.