The night had passed Anna by and she'd gotten, at most, a few hours of sleep. She tried to fall back asleep after the last dream. Normally it was no challenge for her to doze off into deep slumber from which even the most persistent of servants had trouble waking her.

She blamed her restlessness on the dreams. They made her wonder.

As a child, whenever she'd had nightmares, her father suggested that it came from her subconscious mind; he called them "sleeping worries". But could that apply to odd dreams as well?

More likely, the king had just been trying to get his daughter to face her fears so she could go back to sleep.

Anna clacked her feet together under the covers, staring through the window at the glowing dawn as she sorted through her thoughts. There was plenty bothering her that she was conscious of. Was there anything less obvious?

She could...although she was uncomfortable admitting it, she could relate to the Ice Maiden in the disappointment of first love. But she hadn't placed a curse on Hans or anything. She didn't have the power to—not that she would even if she could.

She kicked her blankets off and dangled her legs over the bedside, her hands clenching into fists. That cursed Hans just kept slithering back into her thoughts. For all she knew, he was out there leading slaughter upon the trolls while she sat pondering over peculiar dreams.

Her shoulders sank as she sighed.

No. She knew better. Hans, he...

He wasn't one for mindless slaughter. He acted with purpose, always. To wage war on the trolls would invite a counterattack upon Arendelle. Whatever else he'd done, Hans did seem to care about the kingdom.

He cared so much, he tried to steal it.

She gasped at a sudden thought. She pictured Hans and the king's men surrounded by the Stallos. Suddenly, the Hans of her imagination turned his sword on Hansel, smirking and making some undoubtedly cocky speech about how he'd planned to betray the king's men all along. Then he would lead the Stallos stomping and roaring with the trees off their backs as weapons against Arendelle. That way, he could take the throne from King Olaf.

Anna shook her head. Not a chance! According to what she'd heard, Volco would never work with a human.

"No way," she assured herself.

She looked around her room, but all she could see were Hans's green eyes.

She wished now that she hadn't gotten so blubbery when they were first put in the dungeons. Then she might have seen his face when he'd comforted her. That is what he'd done, wasn't it? She wrinkled her forehead, trying to relive a particular conversation. Had she told him she wouldn't leave without him?

She laughed bitterly over the fact that Hans had been the one to leave, not her.

In a sudden burst of agitation, Anna sprung off of her bed and stretched out the last of her morning grogginess.

"That's enough, Anna," she warned herself. "Time to spend more...time doing something productive.'

Preferably something to distract her from thinking about a certain scheming redheaded enigma.

Anna sighed through closed lips, making an unflattering noise as she mulled over what to do next. Then she went to the wardrobe where she had stuffed the lady's dresses given to her by one of the servants.

Thanks to Hans's fib about me losing my luggage.

Anna scowled. Now it was just getting ridiculous. Did the prince have to turn up in every single thought of hers?!

She examined the fabrics within, quickly sliding the wooden hangers to the right. Each dress was uglier than the next, reminding her of fashions favored by women like Lady Cathrine. Worse, even!

But she had offered up her traveling dress for washing. It'd started smelling funny after her swim in the river beneath the troll caves.

Anna felt her cheeks flare up at the memory of sleeping with Hans—sleeping beside him, wrapped up in him, but strictly sleeping.

Borderline furious with herself, Anna picked the ugliest dress available. She spent the next five minutes figuring out how to manage the panier. Once she got the dress on, she was certain her skirt looked crooked or made her posterior look ridiculous. She stood in front of the tall mirror, turning from side to side to try to persuade herself that it wasn't that bad.

The dress was an emerald damask brocade with lace trimmings. The shape was hideous, but Anna admired the color. It was just a shade darker than—

Don't even think about it.

She re-focused on her reflection once more, trying to tame her hair. When she finally got it to stop sticking up and sideways, she wove two front sections into lose braids and pinned them to the rest of her hair in a bun. It was very out of fashion for the times, but she wasn't about to borrow a wig or powder.

Before she left the room, she glanced over her shoulder. That mirror... it had shown her something strange once. She'd forgotten all about the monstrous eyes that had stared back at her from it.

She shrugged it off for now. She could just have been exhausted at the time, after all.

A servant greeted her in passing out in the guest wing. Anna smiled and waved.

Where to go now? She couldn't leave. But she couldn't just sit back and hope that an answer for returning home would fall into her lap. Grand Pabbie, Bulda and Cliff had sent her through time by the power of that odd mirror fragment.

Anna stopped in place.

The mirror fragment! Was it like the ones the Ice Maiden collected in her dreams? Would Anna be able to go home if she herself found such an object?

But she wouldn't know where to look for one. There was no telling if the Ice Maiden was still alive. Even if she was, she did not seem likely to part with something that powerful.

Anna thought of Mattheus next. What became of him after the curse placed on his unborn child? Did he go after Nissa to try and make her reverse the curse?

If that were the case, he obviously didn't succeed.

She dashed the rest of the way to the library, eager to find answers. Even if she didn't know what to look for, there had to be something there. The doors came into sight when she turned out of the guest wing. She grew excited, now moving with purpose. Why hadn't she thought of it sooner? She could look at books on folklore and genealogy. There had to be something.

Anna threw the library door open, freezing when she heard a surprised squawk. Kirsten sat staring at Anna from the sofa with an open book in her lap.

"Anna!"

"Your Highness... sorry if I scared you."

"Were you looking for me?" Kirsten asked.

"Y-yeah!"

Anna glanced down guiltily. She wouldn't be able to explain why she wanted to see the family tree. She looked sideways, spotting snowfall outside.

"Do you want to build a snowman?"

Kirsten frowned in confusion. "A snowman?"

Kristoff woke up on his side in a stiff bed. He sat up, momentarily confused by his grisly surroundings. Then, scratching his head and permitting himself to yawn, he recalled that the Ice Maiden had led him to his own room. His eyes wandered over to the fireplace where the lively flames had calmed to dim embers and charred logs.

The lone window was completely blocked by snow on the outside, but it still managed to let a little light in. It was hard to tell the time of day from that, however.

As he climbed out of bed, Kristoff's bones creaked in protest. His neck ached too, but there were bigger things to worry about.

He went to the open doorway, counting himself lucky that one of the ice minions hadn't paid him a visit while he slept—not that he was in any danger so long as the Ice Maiden believed he was working on her mirror.

He stuck his head out into the hall, glancing left and then right. No one was in sight. He knew there had to be at least a dozen ice minions lurking around the fortress halls somewhere. But for now, with the coast clear, he left his room.

He turned right as he knew that would lead him away from the entrance hall, where he would've been certain to encounter one of the Ice Maiden's creatures. The doors on both sides of him were identical to his own. Perhaps they were all "guest rooms".

Gripped by the sudden hope that he might not be the sole prisoner at the ice fortress, Kristoff knocked on one of the closed doors. He waited ten seconds for someone to open the door. Then he waited another five. Even a knock from the other side, should the person be locked in, would be a comfort. Quickly, he ran up to each door, knocking a few times before he moved on to the next. Then he waited and listened, standing still as a statue in the center of the hall.

His heart sank when no one answered. But before he could dwell too long over the certainty that he was alone, he pressed on.

The end of the hall bent to the right into a similar corridor of closed doors. Although he didn't let his hopes get up this time, he knocked on each one as he passed. But the only sounds between his attempts were his own footsteps.

Halfway down the corridor, a dark space on the left caught his eye and he turned his head, pausing.

That's different, he thought. Instead of the single doors he had seen thus far, he was staring at an arched pair of wooden double doors set in the back of an alcove. Whatever was on the other side of the doors could be no mere guest room.

Kristoff stepped into the alcove in spite of the likelihood that these doors were also locked. It was only then that he noticed the doors had wrought iron ring pull handles. He reached for one, scowling to find that it was frozen stuck to the door by a layer of ice.

"Well, that's one way to keep people out," Kristoff muttered, drawing his fingertips over the ring covered in ice.

Then, an idea struck him. He peeked out of the alcove to make sure the coast was clear before he made a mad dash back to his room. There he began a desperate search—for what, he wasn't sure yet. He'd know when he found it: something to help him open those double doors. First he tried under the bed, finding nothing. Next he did a rushed search through the dresser, pulling each drawer to find them all empty.

Something important was being kept in that room, if it was a room. Maybe it was another hall or exit, or a hall leading to the exit!

He ran a hand through his hair, letting out a sigh as he tried to think if there was anything he could use already out in the open. When his gaze passed over the glowing embers, Kristoff nearly tripped over himself as he jumped toward the fireplace. He knelt and automatically reached in for one of the smaller logs, stopping himself just in time with a question. First he poked at the log. He hissed and pulled his hand back as the hot log crackled and glowed in response.

Of course. He was in a hurry, but the embers were still too hot! How long before someone passed through either hall? Either he'd be caught out of his room or caught trying to break into an area that was clearly off-limits.

Kristoff looked down at his summer clothes.

Not wool, no good.

His socks were wool, but not quite large enough. He glanced over his shoulder at the bed he'd slept in. He was too tired earlier to take notice, so now he stood and lifted away the layers of pelts on the mattress. He had hoped to find a woolen blanket beneath, thinking to wrap it around one of the logs so he could carry it to the doors and melt off the ice blocking the handles. He made no such discovery, though.

Now running out of ideas, Kristoff sat down on the bed and grumbled to himself. The situation finally seemed hopeless. What had he been thinking, searching for the Ice Maiden by himself? It was a wonder he was still alive! Who was he? He didn't have magic like Elsa; nor did he have Anna's dumb luck. The best he could come up with was getting captured—twice—and poking at fire.

Poking at...fire.

Kristoff paused.

Then he suddenly shot up off of the bed and gawked at the fireplace, daring to check next to it.

Sure enough, dangling from two nails in the wall to the left of the fireplace were the very tools he was hoping for. Not only had his hostess left him with a fire iron. There were tongs hanging just next to the iron!

Although Kristoff mentally kicked himself for not having noticed sooner, he wasted no time. Instead, he grabbed the tools, carefully picking up a brightly burning ember before he hurried back out into the hall. He only glanced behind him as an afterthought. Luckily, none of the ice minions were in sight as he dashed down toward the connecting corridor.

Almost as soon as he'd stepped out of the room, Kristoff knew he was in a race against time. Not only did he need to worry about being spotted, but the ember started fading in the frigid air of the open halls. Nevertheless, he sprinted around the corner and charged full-speed toward the alcove. Once, he nearly dropped the ember. Luckily, he was quick enough to catch it with the tongs.

He relaxed once he was out of sight after stepping into the alcove. Then he remembered the cooling ember and whirled towards the door handles. Careful not to hold the ember too close to bare wood, Kristoff ran it across the sheet of ice.

He grinned as steam curled up from the ice. He repeated the motion, listening as the ember hissed and spat. Kristoff glanced down, watching a puddle form at the base of the doors as the ice melted and dripped.

But after a moment, the ember went silent. Kristoff lifted the tongs to check, confirming that the ember had died. Despite himself, he brought his fingertips up to double check. It was cold to the touch, but that was all right. He almost dropped the now useless ember, but thought better of it and stuffed it into his pants pocket instead. It wouldn't do to have the Ice Maiden or her creatures stumble upon it.

Next, he took the fire iron and cracked through the last of the ice, watching it fall to the floor. At last, he freed the door handles. He peeked back into the hall, checking both directions one last time before he dared pull the doors open. Inside was a room about ten times the size of his bedroom but still smaller than the mirror hall. Kristoff shrank back in a panic, staring at a crowd within.

...a crowd of ice sculptures, he realized when there was no outcry over his sudden intrusion.

Kristoff swallowed and paused at the entrance even though none before him could react to his presence. It took him a moment to find his courage before he ventured in.

The random placement of each statue made it difficult to count. But he supposed there had to be several dozen frozen still all around him.

Each one held a different story. The statues were made up of men, women, children and other creatures. The Ice Maiden did not appear to discriminate. Kristoff thought he even spotted a half-man, half-horse in a far corner.

Was Sven in this room somewhere?

He glanced up toward the source that was lighting the room and found chandeliers glinting from the ceiling like magnificent snowflakes. They were lit by orbs of shimmering silver rather than golden flames.

He thought for a moment over how it was possible for the Ice Maiden to wield such magic without being present. It'd be a question for Grand Pabbie if he ever made it home.

Of course I will.

But he wasn't so sure...

He stepped on something and yelped in surprise. He covered his mouth and glanced all over the room as his echo bounced off each wall. He stilled his breathing and looked down, expecting to find something unpleasant.

Instead, he had literally stumbled upon a familiar pair of red boots.

"Your Majesty?"

Elsa looked up to find Lord Jorn staring at her with some concern. He sat forward, his dark eyes sharp and alert.

They were seated in mahogany chairs with ornately carved backs at a small table in Lord Jorn's private study. The room was darker than the rest of the bright windowed household. Jorn kept the thick brown curtains on the windows here closed in order to protect his many books.

Elsa appreciated that now. It had grown too hot for her liking out under the midday sun.

"Yes. Excuse me, I was thinking."

He looked expectant, but she didn't want to tell him that her visit with Lady Linn that morning had gone poorly. The lady herself was all smiles and reverence when she welcomed the queen's surprise visit. Elsa had even felt a little hope at first. But as soon as she broached the topic of loyalties and inappropriate ideas from certain nobles—not her, of course—Lady Linn had grown visibly uncomfortable before shutting down altogether.

"My husband can follow all these politics. I'm sure I know nothing about what's good for Arendelle." The message was subtle, but it was there all right. She may as well have excused herself for not having a mind of her own. The conversation quickly dwindled to how lovely the palace had looked at the coronation.

Things only got more awkward when Lord Martin joined them. Lady Linn instantly quieted, refraining from speech unless spoken to.

In the end, Elsa found herself having to mask her visit as a gesture of appreciation for their council. Then, feeling unsure and unsuccessful, she had taken her leave.

"I understand you don't want to rush an engagement," Lord Jorn suddenly said.

Elsa blinked several times. Is that what he thought was—?

Come to think of it, he had been on board with that idea. Perhaps now he sees it was an impetuous suggestion.

"I don't feel that now is the time to consider it," Elsa replied. "With my sister gone, with Prince Hans missing too—I don't want such distractions when considering something of equal importance."

Lord Jorn nodded his head and murmured his sympathies.

"It's not necessarily a poor suggestion," she added. She was the queen. Of course they expected her to wed and make heirs. "But the timing—"

"I understand, Your Majesty."

She knew it to be true when he smiled. Although he was old enough to be her grandfather, there was something about the old noble that reminded her of her late father. He was even a little bit like Kai. Perhaps that why she felt so at ease.

"But I know I... don't want to marry Lord Harald."

Lord Jorn chuckled. "Is he too old for you?" He dropped the smile when Elsa looked at him.

"I'm prepared to make a political match when the time comes. But I won't marry that man."

The noble looked a little startled by her proclamation. Truth be told, she surprised herself a little.

Jorn looked like he was considering his next words. He muttered something and leaned back in his chair, studying the young woman in front of him. When at last he reached some inward conclusion, he spoke.

"So it's not that you have someone else in mind?"

"W-what?"

"I mean no insult. I'm merely asking."

Elsa averted his crow-like gaze and looked instead at the wall-length bookshelves. She recalled the urge to leaf through those books long ago. It had been when she was just a girl accompanying her parents to give their condolences for the passing of Lord Jorn's wife.

"Have you ever heard of the Ice Maiden?" she asked.

Lord Jorn looked taken aback by the turn of topics.

"You mean the creature you told us about at the meeting?"

Elsa hesitated.

"Do you also think she's just a fairytale?" she asked, recalling Lord Stein's disbelief.

She feared the worst when Lord Jorn cleared his throat. He looked thoughtful.

"I don't discount anything these days," he answered with a smile. "Not with our own Snow Queen of Arendelle. But... no, I've never heard of the Ice Maiden. Although—well, probably not."

The queen raised her eyebrow. Lord Jorn looked up at her and half-scowled at himself as if he had drawn her attention to nothing.

"Not me. My great-aunt—oh, but I was very young and we children used to think she was demented."

Elsa said nothing as she waited for the old gentleman to make up his mind about telling her.

"She used to talk about an attack on a palace ball she attended when she was still unmarried," he explained.

"An attack?"

"Broken windows, chandeliers snuffed out, screaming ladies. No one's around now who would remember. Even Lord Albin's not that old." He laughed at his little joke about the other noble.

"What was it...? Unhappy rebels? Another kingdom?"

At that, Lord Jorn shrugged. "She wouldn't say... and there's nothing in the Arendelle archives about it. Perhaps just an accident that she perceived as something more?"

"What happened? Was anyone hurt?"

"I'm sorry, she didn't say," he answered. "She'd only repeat how cold it was, over and over. I just assumed it was winter!"

Elsa frowned. Well, maybe it had been winter.

"But she used to talk about trolls too," Lord Jorn added, looking off into the empty space of the room. "They were all very superstitious back then." He chuckled to himself.

Oh, if he only knew, Elsa thought as she laughed along with him.

"Would you like to stay for dinner, Your Majesty? My grandson and his family will be here this afternoon. His girls love ice skating, you know."

Elsa brightened at the opportunity to get to know more of her subjects. She could use some fun for a change!

"I would love to! Oh, but... won't I be a burden in the meantime?"

"Nonsense!" He grinned. "I saw you eyeing my collection here. I have a little work to see to before the mob arrives. Please, help yourself." He gestured toward the walls of books.

Elsa's enthusiasm must have burned through her usual composure, for Lord Jorn chuckled again.

"I suspect my guests will be here within the next couple of hours. I'm sure my granddaughters would love to show you the entire estate."

"I'll be looking forward to it," Elsa said.

Lord Jorn bowed before excusing himself, leaving Elsa wide-eyed. She was sure many of the books would be duplicates of titles in her own library. But she could already spot a few unfamiliar book spines.

She could hardly remember the last time she let herself relax like this. Lord Jorn must have sensed that she needed it.

Now Volco could tell the other trolls he'd told them so; the humans could not be trusted.

It's us or them.

Ametha was the first one to catch the first whiff of the king's men. Attuned to the forest through her earth crystal, she had sensed them creeping up from the southern border. Not that there was an actual border. It was more of an invisible line mutually uncrossed, except for the intended attack on the lumber cabin.

Rage splintered through Volco as he recalled the incident. The humans started it by destroying the trees. Every day, they pushed their evil saws just a little farther north. Volco had no doubt that the foul creatures would obliterate the entire forest unless someone stopped them.

Then, they dared to invade his valley. It didn't matter that he never saw them; he had smelled their stink all the way from the empty cabin to the valley. And if that bumbling Pabbie had not delayed him, he would have caught them. He could only hope they drowned or froze in the stream beneath the caves.

Pabbie...

Volco couldn't prove it, but he was sure that Pabbie had been to the lumber cabin that day. The very idea that one of his own may have brought humans to the valley was enough to—

His vision flickered red and grey as the savage thoughts took hold again. He braced himself against the nearest spruce, feeling its needles brush his face as he buckled over in the effort to maintain control. It was getting harder these days, thanks to Arendelle.

But he couldn't lose control all the time. Eventually, it would just frighten the other trolls. As much as he'd like to make Pabbie admit his involvement with the humans, the other trolls liked Pabbie.

Of course, if they were to talk in private...

He heard a low whistle—Saph's signal. Volco stared down through the trees and spotted the humans. Fury threatened to take hold again. This time he let it.

He gurgled and growled as the transformation took over, his skin stretching to fit the snapping muscles, tendons and bones as they grew to monstrous proportions. White hair grew atop his head as trees sprung up out of his back. He ripped through the trees, leading the others to the band of screaming humans. Then, the slaughter began.

What a reward it was to pick them up by their fragile heads and fling them against the very trees they loved to cut down. He was somewhat aware that he was the only one going this far. The others just swatted swords and axes away as the humans tried to defend themselves. There were about thirty of them, half of whom fled through the trees when they saw what they were up against.

An arrow pricked Volco's cheek, making him laugh. The noise shook both the surrounding trees and the ground beneath them all. How maddeningly foolish! Did they really think they could take him down this way?

He flicked the archer, watching him fly over the heads of the other soldiers. Then he ripped a branch off one of the trees on his shoulder and play-dueled with one man. The shouts and roars all around him were like music to his ears as he let the human parry a few of his attacks. Finally, when he grew bored, he swung the branch over the little man's head and watched him sink into an unconscious mass in the snow.

"Volco!"

He turned his head, eyeing Saph with a man in each of his fists. The men struggled to climb out of the troll's grasp, but to no avail.

"What are you waiting for?" Volco asked. Then he stopped and sniffed the air, a certain scent tickling his nose. It was... familiar. "You!"

He stomped forward, addressing the redhaired human in Saph's right hand.

"It was you in the caves."

The man gazed at Volco with piercing green eyes. But he gave away nothing.

"If you were smart, you'd keep us for bargaining," the man said.

Volco snorted. "I don't bargain with humans." But he thought of Pabbie, suddenly seeing an opportunity.

"Take them back to the valley," he ordered.

"What—?! Are you—"

Volco roared in Saph's face, the wind from it blowing the other troll's bristly hair up.

"Have Pabbie kill them. And tell him that if he doesn't, I'll do away with them myself... and him with them."

Saph stared open-mouthed as Volco strode off in pursuit of the men who ran away.

Anna shuddered and almost retched when she woke. She gripped the armrests of her chair, her eyes darting all over the room until she remembered. She and Kirsten had returned to the library after playing out in the snow. She'd dozed off in a chair by the fire, content and warm, only to fall into a dark and violent nightmare.

"What is it?" Kirsten asked, seeing the other girl was awake.

Anna jumped out of her chair and ran to the princess, grabbing her by the shoulders as it dawned on her how little time they had. But at first, she wasn't sure how to phrase it in a way Kirsten could believe. The princess knew nothing of Anna's strange dreams. Even so, she had to try.

"It's Hans... and all the men he and Hansel took to find the trolls. They're in danger!"

Kirsten gently freed herself to return a book to its shelf. Then she gave Anna a wary look.

"But of course they are. The trolls, or at least the one you said, hate humans."

Anna shook her head. "No. I mean, they already lost. They have Hans and Hansel now. We have to do something."

"How do you know this?"

Anna bit her lip.

"I can't explain right now. I just need you to believe me. Please, we have to help them."

"I—I do believe you, but my father..."

"If we don't leave now, it will be too late. With your magic, we might be able to get there in time before..."

Anna didn't have to finish her thought. Kirsten could see the start of her tears.

"Okay. But where are we going?"

A/N: Thanks for reading! Sorry if you received two notifications. I accidentally posted this before separating all the scenes...