Tick, tock, tick, tock, tick, tock...
Mary hated that sound. At first she'd been only mildly annoyed by it, but five hours had been plenty of time for her feelings to blossom into outright hatred. During the day, it was barely audible, but in the dead of night, when you could hear a pin drop from the far end of the hallway, the clock was earsplitting.
Here Mary was again, hunched over her bedroom desk, struggling to see in the dying candlelight. On the carpet nearby were some books Mary hadn't felt like reading and some scattered pieces and a board from Mary's failed attempt to learn chess. Every so often, Mary would dip her pen into the inkwell and scrawl another couple lines in her journal. If one were standing over her shoulder and squinting in the failing light, they would make out nothing but disjointed words and phrases like "useless," "lonely," and "keep screwing up."
Tick, tock, tick...
Mary looked upwards. From the shelf, a stuffed bear wearing a dress and French braid looked back at her.
Mary watched the trees speed past, the sun on her face. She bet trees never questioned themselves. Never felt sad or purposeless. They just sucked in water and sunlight like they were supposed to, and every fall they dropped their leaves on schedule, and nobody ever gave them a hard time about it. Mary wondered who'd created trees. Clearly, they'd done a good job.
The point was, Mary was thinking about deep, philosophical, important things. She definitely wasn't obsessing over some silly breakup. That would be shallow.
"Hey, Mary?" A stick-arm poked Mary's thigh. She turned in the sled to find Olaf peering up at her, a handkerchief in his outstretched stick-arm.
Mary wordlessly accepted it and blew her nose. Snowmen didn't produce snot, of course, but Mary had recently discovered that their nostrils trickled water after intense crying.
"I knew packing a hanky was a good idea!" said Olaf proudly. "I wasn't going to at first, but then I thought to myself, 'Y'know what Olaf? Mary might not be crying right now, but she was sobbing all of last night and all of this morning, so she's probably gonna-'"
"Thank you, Olaf," cut in Mary. "I'm fine." She returned to watching the trees zoom by.
"Hey, Mary?" A minute later, the stick-arm poked her thigh once again.
"What?" said Mary, her eyes fixed on the trees.
"It's gonna be okay." Olaf gave her a bucktoothed smile. "I know Fritz breaking up with you is bad, but it could've been a lot worse. Sometimes boyfriends break up with their girlfriends by locking them in a room to freeze to death."
Mary folded her arms. "I'm fine. You're the one who's way too happy all the time."
"I'm not happy all the time," said Olaf, waddling towards her. "I can get pretty dark and brooding. Ooh, ooh, do you want a warm hug? I love those!"
Mary rolled her eyes and reluctantly accepted the hug. "But doesn't it bother you that you're this- this inanimate object brought to life? Don't people treat you differently?"
"They do sometimes," shrugged Olaf, "but that doesn't mean anything. Anna and Kristoff freaked out and kicked off my head when they first met me, and now they're my bestest buddies." He leaned into Mary's ear and whispered, "If you ask me, their people skills could use a little work. You don't decapitate someone you've just met."
Mary snorted and turned away.
Suddenly, the trees came to a halt. "We made it." Kristoff climbed out, grabbed his ice-harvesting gear, and unhitched Sven from the sled.
"Why are Olaf and I here again?" asked Mary.
"Because we're the Official Substitute Ice Masters!" said Olaf, hopping out onto the frozen lake.
"Because I promised Olaf I'd let him tag along once a month," said Kristoff. "And Anna thought it'd be a good idea for you to come, too. Just to see if ice-harvesting catches your interest, I guess."
Mary rolled her eyes. "And I'm sure the fact that you're the 'love expert' had nothing to do with her request?"
"Hey, I never said I was an expert," smirked Kristoff, turning towards the lake. "I've just got friends who are."
"Friends like me!" added Olaf. "I'm a love expert! Ooh, ooh, Mary, have you tried going to Fritz's bedroom window and holding a gramophone over your head?"
"Hey, Olaf, why don't you go play with Sven for a minute?" Kristoff gave Olaf a look that made it clear this was not a suggestion.
"Sure." Olaf shrugged and scurried off into the shrubbery. Sven followed after him – or, more specifically, after his nose.
Now Mary and Kristoff were alone. Mary let out a huff, which, given her lack of lungs, was done solely for the sake of making an annoyed sound.
Kristoff's eyes skimmed over the surrounding scenery. "Beautiful out here, isn't it?"
Mary nodded slowly. She was hardly in the mood to appreciate them, but she had to admit Arendelle's fjords were breathtaking. A river poured from one end of the frozen lake into the ocean, which loomed over the horizon. Birds and rabbits scurrying about the bushes, and the air smelled nice and felt crisp and cold against Mary's skin – though given the layers of clothing Kristoff was wearing, she assumed that part was a bit less pleasant to non-snowmen.
It should've been tranquil, but somehow, looking at the endless body of water made Mary feel uneasy. She'd never been this far from the castle before. Or from Elsa.
"Mary?" said Kristoff.
Mary scowled. Oh no, here it came. The real reason Anna had insisted Mary come here.
"All this stuff you're going through with Fritz... I know it feels like it's a huge deal, but you can't let yourself get so upset about it."
"I know that," said Mary dryly. "I'm not just upset because Fritz won't date me. It's the reason he won't date me. You think Fritz is going to spend his life in a chaste relationship with some... some stray thought Elsa had when she was eight? Fritz doesn't want to date a snowwoman. Nobody would."
For a moment, Kristoff pondered this in silence. Mary was about to return her attention to the fjords when he suddenly said, "A couple years back, there was this girl named Amethyst, and let me tell you, she had the biggest crush on me."
"What?" Mary had been planning on tuning Kristoff out, but somehow, she found her head turning his way.
"And at first I freaked out about it because, hey, I was pretty close with the trolls, but I didn't want to get that close, you know what I'm saying?" Kristoff let out an anxious laugh.
Mary gaped at him. "Amethyst was a-?"
"That's right," sighed Kristoff. "My ex-girlfriend is a troll."
"Ex-girlfriend?" Mary raised an eyebrow. "You mean you actually dated her?"
Kristoff shifted in place. "For a little while, but it didn't work out. We had more than a few problems."
"Yeah!" spoke up a goofy, high-pitched voice. "Like how could you have-?"
"Sven!" Kristoff shot a dirty look towards his reindeer over by the shrubbery. "Don't be inappropriate!"
Mary's gaping did not cease. A couple questions came to mind, such as, "Was that supposed to be ventriloquism?" or "Why is Anna dating a crazy person?"
"Sure, I was raised by the trolls, and they're pretty much family, but there's so many of them, y'know?" said Kristoff. "I never met Amethyst until we were older."
Mary's brow creased. "But you didn't stay together. How is that supposed to make me feel any better?"
"Yeah, we broke up, but that's not the point. The important thing is that we dated at all." Kristoff hesitated slightly before patting Mary's shoulder. "I managed to look past who Amethyst was on the outside and like her for who she was on the inside."
"Why did you break up with her?" asked Mary.
"Oh, she was insane," said Kristoff. "I like a little craziness in a girlfriend, but there's a difference between being quirky and being nuts. At least with Anna, I never have to worry that she'll hunt down the next girl who makes eyes at me and knife her in her sleep."
"What?"
"In fact, come to think of it, Anna should probably keep her windows locked at night..." Kristoff stared off into space for a moment.
"I don't see how that helps me," said Mary flatly.
Kristoff shrugged. "All I'm saying is it is possible for humans and non-humans to date."
"I keep telling you, we're just friends!" said the goofy voice.
"Shut up, Sven!" Kristoff hissed, then turned back to Mary. "So when you told Fritz he only wanted to have sex and didn't love you, you weren't being fair. If he really loves you, he won't care what you can and can't do. There could be other reasons he doesn't want to date you anymore."
Mary grunted and rolled over in the sled, hiding her face.
"Mary, heads up." Kristoff tossed her his ice-pick. "C'mon, lake's not gonna cut itself."
Mary reluctantly climbed out the sled, struggling to lift the pick. She was much weaker in her humanoid form, but Mary had no intention of morphing back into her attack form ever again.
"Kristoff?" Mary stared at the ice at her feet. It seemed much cloudier than Elsa's. Something about it made Mary think of phantoms. "You have a purpose, don't you? Harvesting ice, I mean?"
"Yep. It's what I do best."
"How did you figure out that was your purpose?"
"Well, me and Sven always hung out with the other ice-cutters when we were kids." As he spoke, Kristoff retrieved a handsaw from his tool-sack. "I wouldn't call it my 'purpose,' though. I just tried it and liked it, and, hey, it stopped me from being completely penniless, so that was a plus."
"Just tried it and liked it..." Mary repeated to herself.
"Hey, y'know what I've been thinking, Mary?" As he spoke, Kristoff heaved a giant ice-cube out of the lake. "Maybe this breakup can be a good thing for you. I mean, to be honest, if I were you, Fritz wouldn't be my first pick. The guy's a little, uh..."
"Waaaaaaaah! I'm a h-h-horrible person!"
"Shh, Fritz, it's okay..."
Elsa conjured up an ice-hanky and handed it to Fritz, who accepted it with trembling hands.
"What if- What if Mary was right?" Fritz blew his nose with a noise not unlike a volcanic eruption. "What if I did brake up with her because I, I don't know, subconsciously don't want to date someone who can't have... have..." He glanced away, then said in the quietest possible voice, "...sex?"
Elsa straightened Fritz's emerald servant uniform. "That's not true, Fritz. Mary only said that because she was upset. If she was making you uncomfortable, you had every right to end things with her. Now try and pull yourself together. You have a job to do."
"That's- That's right." Fritz took a deep breath, then went for Elsa's bedroom door. "I need to go see if you've got a council meeting today." He hurried off without another word.
As soon as he was gone, Elsa turned towards the other end of the bedroom, where Anna was leaned against the far wall. "Did I handle that well?"
"You did great," Anna assured her. "Fritz worships the ground you walk on. He'll listen to you. And as for Mary, well, if Kristoff can't get her to see straight, no one can."
"I hope this relationship drama gets settled soon," sighed Elsa. "Fritz and Mary both seem so fragile... They were good influences on each other."
"Hey, Elsa?" Anna stepped towards her sister. She seemed to be examining her carefully. "Between the way you've been disciplining your snowmen and the impromptu sex ed and stuff... maybe I'm just crazy, but are you.. are you trying to act like Mom?"
"Like our mother?" Elsa laughed. "I don't know what you're talking about."
"Mama?" Mary stuck her head in the doorway.
"Mary!" Elsa spun around, her eyes shooting towards the snowwoman's bare feet. "You lost your shoes again?"
Mary bowed her head, wincing. "I'm sorry, Mama."
"You can't keep doing this, Mary!" Elsa flicked her wrist, causing a new pair of ice-heels to sprout over Mary's toes. "You need to learn personal responsibility for your possessions. Understand?" Mary nodded. "Good, good." Elsa smoothed Mary's snowy hair, then kissed her forehead. "Now, how did the ice-cutting with Kristoff go?"
"You mean the excuse to get me alone with him so he could talk about my relationship problems?" smirked Mary. "It went fine."
"Your Majesty, I- Oh." Just then, Fritz started to return to the bedroom, but he froze in the hall when he caught sight of Mary. "Uh... hi."
Mary stared at the wall behind Fritz. "Hi."
There was a long silence.
"I, uh, I, uh, I-" Fritz only bit his tongue once or twice before he managed to look at Elsa and say, "I went to the council. There's a message for you. It sounded important."
"A message?" repeated Elsa. "From who?"
"Apparently, a ship pulled into harbor this morning flying the flags of some other country. Probably a diplomatic thing."
"Yuck, politics." Anna made a face, then pushed past Fritz out the door. "I'm outta here."
"I'll be right there." Elsa shut the door, leaving Fritz out in the hall, then went for her dresser. "Mary, could you hand me the brush?" As she spoke, Elsa absently morphed her ice-nightgown into a dress and searched through the drawers for her makeup.
"Mama?" Mary said, skimming the shelves for the hairbrush. "Could I come with you to the council meeting? I promise I won't get in the way."
"You want to come?" Elsa frowned at her. "Why?"
Mary shrank back, blushing with frost. "I've been reading up on Arendelle politics. It sounds interesting."
Elsa laughed. "It's really not. But if you have nothing else to do, I guess you can come find that out for yourself..."
In retrospect, accompanying Elsa on her council meeting might not have been the wisest idea. The council was predominantly filled by wrinkly old men who didn't look the least bit open to the idea of talking snowmen. Some of them didn't even try to hide the fact that they were staring. Worst of all was Anders, who wasn't just staring, but giving her a downright sour look. Mary wished for the umpteenth time that snowwomen could hyperventilate. She felt like a shaken soda bottle that was sealed way too securely.
Mary shut her eyes and wished very hard that she could turn invisible. Elsa had made Mary a little ice-chair right next to her own icy throne, meaning Mary was trapped at the table in plain sight of everyone.
"I understand a diplomatic message has arrived from overseas?" In the council chamber, Elsa's voice sounded stronger, almost echoing.
"It's a show of good faith from the nation of Pagania," said Anders. "They're offering to become trade partners with Arendelle."
"Really?" said Elsa. "I thought every other country was scared I'd put them into eternal winter?"
"Pagania's always been more accepting of magic," shrugged Anders. "Your parents had actually considered evacuating you there if word of your powers ever got out."
"So they must have trusted this nation, right?" A smile spread across Elsa's face. "This is great news. If all goes well, other countries could start to follow Pagania's example." She looked over the assortment of decrepit old men present. "Where's the Paganian diplomat? Why isn't he here already?"
"Err... That's the catch," said Anders. "They didn't send a diplomat. They're only going to trade with us on one condition."
"What is it?"
"They..." Anders took a breath. "They want you to sail over to Pagania and show off your magic."
Elsa raised an eyebrow. "'Show off?'"
"The Paganians have always been... fond of magic," said Anders slowly.
"How fond?" asked Elsa.
At that exact moment, a fight was breaking out at a Paganian marketplace:
"Hand over the Limited Edition Sparkle Snow Goddess doll! I need that for my altar, you heathen!"
"They enjoy it in moderation," said Anders. "They'll treat you well. You should be fine."
"That's settled, then." Elsa rose to her feet. "The more people who accept my magic, the better. I'll have Fritz pack my things. We'll need a ship prepared, along with some servants, guards, and diplomats."
"Mama, wait!" Suddenly, Mary grabbed Elsa's arm. "You're leaving? When?"
"As soon as I can," said Elsa. "There's no reason to put it off."
"How long will you be gone?" asked Mary.
"Well..." Elsa turned to Anders.
"They only asked for a couple days," he said. "Add in the time sailing there and back, and I'd say you'll be gone three weeks. Maybe two if you're quick about it."
"Two weeks?" Mary repeated faintly.
"Yes. Arendelle might not get another chance like this, so we need to seize the opportunity while we can." Elsa made for the exit.
Her hand was around the doorknob when Mary cried out, "Wait!"
Elsa paused and turned back. "What's wrong?"
Mary's entire body looked like an over-coiled spring. Her hands were starting to tremble. "You- You can't leave."
"Why not?"
"You can't go!" Mary said louder. "You can't go!"
If any council members hadn't been staring at Mary before, they definitely were now. Mary had never felt pain before, but she imagined it was something like the way her chest felt right now – so tight she could hardly move it.
Elsa stepped towards her. "Mary, are you alright?"
Something inside Mary snapped, and the next thing she knew, she was shrieking at the top of her voice: "No! No! Mama, please! Please! You can't go! You can't-!"
'Your Majesty!" Suddenly, a handful of guards burst into the council chamber, followed by a flock of curious servants and maids. A certain feisty princess pushed her way to the front of the crowd.
"What's going on?" asked Anna. "Someone was screaming bloody murder in here!"
Before Elsa could react, Mary pinned her to the floor with a hug. "Don't go! Don't go! Please! Please!"
Mary was dimly aware that flailing around and sobbing hysterically wasn't normal behavior, but she couldn't make herself stop until Elsa hugged her back and frantically whispered, "Shh, shh, it's alright, Mary. I've got you, I've got you."
The entire palace staff waited with baited breath for Mary's sobbing to cease. Eventually, her crying lowered itself to somewhere in the "indoor voice" range.
"Elsa?" Anna ran to her side. "What happened?"
"I... I..." Mary grasped for words. Her eyes flickered towards the council members, every last one of whom were staring at her.
"Mary..." Elsa hesitated before saying, "Please don't take this the wrong way, but... Well, it's a little had to judge exactly how old my snowmen are mentally, but Anna and I had assumed you were mentally a teenager. But... with how you've been acting lately..." She shifted in place. "...it's possible you're more akin to a child than a teenager."
"What?" Mary's jaw hung open. "Are you joking? Do you have any idea how many books I read per night?"
"I'm not saying you're not smart!" said Elsa hurriedly, raising her hands soothingly.
"I'm getting tired of this!" snapped Mary. "Tired of being patronized and ignored and- and treated like your pretty bauble!"
"I'm sorry, I'm not trying to patronize you," said Elsa, almost pleadingly. "I'm only trying to account for how other people see you-"
"I'm not your dress-up doll, Elsa!" yelled Mary. "I'm not your pet or your toy or your imaginary friend! I'm real. You can't forget about me and abandon me like before. I'm not like Olaf. I'm not blissfully happy. I need more from life. I can't figure out what to- what to do with myself! " She threw her arms in the air. "I need a purpose!"
"A purpose?" repeated Elsa.
Mary scowled at her. "Yes, a purpose."
"You..." Elsa took a breath. "You don't have one, really."
The scowl vanished. "What?"
Elsa hung her head. "When I first dreamed you up, I was a little girl playing with my toys – You were no different from my dolls or my stuffed animals or Olaf. I didn't know you'd ever be real. I made you by complete accident. You've all been accidents – I would never bring a snowman to life on purpose. The whole idea's kind of disturbing, honestly." She met Mary's eyes. "I'm sorry I made you introverted enough that you can't be blissfully happy like Olaf and the others."
"You're- You're sorry I'm not like Olaf?" said Mary, dazed.
"I'm sorry you exist, alright?" There was nothing calm or controlled about Elsa's voice anymore. It was shaking, and not from anger. "You're a product of my powers being out of control, and I hate it! All I've ever wanted is to not hurt people, and now it's like my magic made someone out of thin air just so I could hurt them."
"You're sorry I exist?" Mary repeated.
"What?" Elsa gave a start. "Wait, no, I didn't mean it like that-"
"Your Majesty." One of the councilmen cleared his throat.
Elsa sighed, then turned back to Mary. "Go to your bedroom. I'll be with you in a minute, I promise."
Mary wordlessly made for the door. The crowd parting at her approach, giving her a wide girth.
With Mary gone, Elsa turned to the flood of onlookers and said, "Show's over. Now back to work, everyone." The mob gave their queen some hurried excuses and dispersed, allowing Elsa to lead her sister into the hallway.
"You okay?" frowned Anna.
"Just embarrassed." Elsa hid her eyes in her hand. "Between this and Mary attacking that man, the entire council must think I can't control my snowmen at all."
"Is it just me, or has Mary been kind of a brat lately?" said Anna. "You've been mollycoddling her, that's the problem. Whatever this trip to Pogo-land is, don't cancel it."
"Pagania," said Elsa. "I was invited there as part of a diplomatic mission." She glanced at a nearby grandfather clock. "I only have a few hours before I board the ship. I need to get some sleep." Elsa turned for the doorway. "I should apologize to Mary. I don't want us to be on bad terms before I leave her for weeks."
"Sounds like a plan," said Anna, following after her.
The sisters ventured out into the bedchambers hallway, but as it turned out, Mary's door was locked tight.
"Looks like she's picking up some bad habits from you," muttered Anna.
Elsa gave the door a gentle rap. "Mary, can you hear me?" No reply. "Mary, listen, I wanted to tell you I'm sorry for what I said. I love you no matter what, and I'm glad you exist. You're part of my family."
Elsa paused, but she received no reply.
"Alright, Mary," said Elsa, bowing her head. "I'll give you some time alone. I know I upset you. I'll be gone in the morning, so if you have anything to say to me..." Still no reply. "Alright. I understand. Goodbye, Mary. I love you."
Elsa reluctantly left the door and turned to Anna. "Take care of her while I'm gone."
"I will." Anna smiled. "Don't worry, Elsa, everything's gonna be fine."
A cold wind blew through Mary's bedroom window. Elsa's words would've been touching if Mary had actually been around to hear them.
A pair of guards stood, same posture, facing the same way, horizontally aligned, on opposite sides of the palace gates, staring ahead, stone still. From now on, the gates were always to remain open, even in the dead of night.
Minutes passed.
"I miss you," spoke up the one on the left.
The guard on the right rolled his eyes. "I thought I told you never to speak to me again."
"It feels like we've grown so far apart..."
"That's because I don't love you anymore."
If they'd been less entwined in their own drama, they might have noticed the walking bundle of drama sneaking past them out the gates.
Mary didn't know how far she ran. Her body was powered purely by magic. With no muscles, she couldn't grow tired. Couldn't ache. At least, not physically.
I'm sorry you exist. The words rang in her icy ears.
Mary's bare feet pounded over the cobblestone, her personal flurry leaving a dusting of snow behind her. She'd left her ice-high heels behind somewhere, along with her glasses. She'd never wear them. Never again.
At some point, Mary reached the far edge of town and collapsed into a dead end alleyway. It wasn't that she was exhausted – She couldn't get exhausted – but with nowhere left to run, Mary honestly had no idea what to do with herself. She supposed this was the inevitable conclusion of her life. Mary was worse than a phantom. She'd never been alive in the first place. Never had a purpose. Never been wanted, only tolerated. Nothing but a pretty bauble to be admired when it caught the regular people's fancy. Mary wasn't even supposed to have the self-awareness to realize it. If Elsa had her way, Mary would be a drooling mouthbreather like Olaf or Marshmallow.
A fluke. That was all Mary was. Some quirk of Elsa's powers set off when she got upset. Heck, Elsa had wanted that stupid cat alive more than she'd wanted Mary. All this time, Mary had been fooling herself.
Lifting her head off the pavement was difficult, but Mary managed it once the sound of footsteps sparked her curiosity. In the darkness, she could make out a group of five burly, rugged men coming towards her down the alley. One of them was lagging behind the rest, hobbling on some wooden crutches.
"I'm surprised you were stupid enough to show your face here again, especially all alone." The crippled man pulled himself into the moonlight. A pair of identical, jagged scars ran down either side of his cheeks, one a bit pinker and fresher than the other.
Mary gently returned her head to the pavement. She noticed idly that each of the four thugs surrounding the crippled man was wielding something in their hands – ice-picks, steel poles, and other blunt objects.
"I'm afraid I don't know the anatomy of the queen's snow-monsters," said the crippled man, "so we'll just have to break everything at once."
Mary shut her eyes.
The face was the first thing hit. One second, it was a pristine, gorgeous, otherworldly woman, and the next, it was shards crinkling into the dirt. Next, one of the boys kicked the thing over onto its stomach and planted the ice-pick right in its chest with an earsplitting crack.
The creature didn't scream. It stayed perfectly silent the entire time, offering no resistance. The crippled man wasn't sure if he was impressed or disappointed.
Crack. Crack. Crack.
After a while, there wasn't much left that could pass for a girl. Nothing but pieces, none bigger than his fist.
One of men picked up a stray pinky. "Look at this!" Every couple seconds, the finger would twitch. The man howled with laughter and stowed it away in his pocket.
The crippled man hobbled his way through the wreckage. With a bit of effort, he managed to kneel down and sift through the ice-creature's pieces. Luckily, one of the eyes was still intact. He held it in his palm, staring into its icy iris.
"You think it can still see us?" asked one of the men.
The crippled man pulled himself back onto his crutches. "I hope so."
"Well, that had better have been worth it to you," said one of the older men. "Now hand over the money so we can get out of here before the queen finds out. I'm not eager to freeze to death."
"Fine, fine." The crippled man tossed the other four some sacks of money, along with some larger, empty sacks.
"Holy crap, where'd you get all this?" One of the boys let out an impressed whistle.
"Would you believe that sorceress actually tried to pay me to keep quiet?" The crippled man chuckled to himself. "Now, if you don't want her to find out, each of you need to scoop up some ice and get out of here."
The boys readily complied, filling their empty bags with about a fourth of the snow-monster apiece. The flurry cloud that always hovered above the creature seemed to flutter around in circles, like it was confused on where to go. It couldn't stop the creature from melting if its pieces were scattered to the far corners of town, now could it?
Putting all his weight against one crutch, the crippled man used his free hand to hold the ice-eye up to his face. "Find some nice, open spots to dump the pieces," he said. "Look for places that get plenty of sun."
Somehow, the eyeball felt damp in the crippled man's hand, almost as if water was trickling off it.