"'You're a fine one for tramping around,' the bandit girl said to Kai. 'I'd like to know—do you really deserve to have someone run to the end of the world just for your sake?'"

—Hans Christian Andersen, The Snow Queen


August 8, 1848—Ahtohallan

Elsa stood in the domed chamber at Ahtohallan's heart and breathed in deep, filling her lungs with cold air. No matter how many times she'd come here, it always felt a little like coming home, and she allowed herself a moment to bask in the feeling.

She let out her breath and looked up into the dark blue of the ceiling and said, as clearly as she could, "I want to see Kristoff Bjorgman."

Slowly, like a sunrise, the blue shifted into white, and snow fell like a fine mist all around her. Gathering her power from deep inside herself, she made a sweeping motion with her hands and brushed the mist away. Shapes formed all around her—moving, speaking, icy statues—and the chamber filled with the sounds of thousands of conversations overlapping each other.

Elsa could easily pick out the steady cadence of Kristoff's voice among the din, and she followed him from scene to scene as his entire life was laid out before her. She knew from experience that not every moment was shown (the chamber just didn't have the space) but special ones were—moments that defined a person or lead up to important events.

There was always a pattern in how the scenes were laid out, even if it wasn't obvious at a glance, and as Elsa walked she discovered Kristoff's were a spiral. She followed the scenes around and around and watched as Kristoff grew progressively younger and younger.

She did her best not to pry any more than necessary, averting her eyes whenever the scenes showed private moments between Kristoff and her sister, or when he was alone. But, the further she moved into his past, the clearer it became that Kristoff was often alone, and, while this wasn't news to her, seeing it played out made her heart ache for him all the same.

She was near the center of the room now, having followed the spiral all the way around. Two little statues ran in slow motion before her—a young Kristoff, maybe nine years old, and a baby Sven, chasing each other.

Her brow furrowed.

"No…it should go back further than this," she said aloud. When she'd experimented with her own past, and (with permission) Anna's, she'd been able to go all the way back to the very moment of their births—and then further, into the individual pasts of both their parents.

So, to have Kristoff's end here, as if he didn't exist before this moment…

A chill raced down her spine. She waved her hands again, and all the statues crumbled into clumps of snow.

For several minutes, Elsa paced the floor of the empty chamber, deep in thought. She wished now that she'd brought the letter with her—what was that man's name again?

Finally, it came to her.

"I want to see Balder Larsen of Hamar."

The fine mist fell and the statues rose up. This life was laid out more haphazardly than Kristoff's: almost like a tree's root system, with scenes branching out from each other. It was then that Elsa got her first look at Balder, the root of all their trouble.

As a younger man, he looked nothing like Kristoff, with much shorter hair and a full beard. But his face was open, his eyes were bright. Many of the early memories showed him laughing and joking with friends. But as the scenes shifted forward in time, he lost much of his joviality, and became more reserved and guarded.

"What happened to you, Balder Larsen?" she wondered aloud.

Suddenly, Elsa felt like an intruder, barging in on a stranger's life without their knowledge or permission. With that in mind, she did her best to sift through each scene as fast as possible, flicking her fingers and collapsing the ones unnecessary to her search.

Finally, she found something. As she watched, a boy ran past her, giggling, and Balder scooped him up and swung him around, a broad smile on his face. As the statues' scene ended, they slowed to a crawl, and Elsa stepped closer to inspect the child's face.

She gasped. It was Kristoff—a much younger Kristoff than she'd seen in even his own past, possibly no older than four.

"Balder was telling the truth," she murmured, brushing her fingertips against the child-Kristoff's cheek.

With reluctance, Elsa left the scene and followed its branching path. The next few scenes were irrelevant—Balder ice harvesting, Balder eating a meal with his crew—but then, Balder, standing with his hand on another man's shoulder.

And this other man looked startlingly like the Kristoff she knew, if Kristoff had a full beard.

As she drew closer, the conversation became audible, and she realized Balder was pleading with him:

"Jens," this Balder whispered wretchedly. "I swear to you, I didn't take my eyes off him for more than a—than a minute to load the sled—he—he was right behind us with Sven, I swear it—"

Elsa breathed in sharply. This was it.

The other man, Jens, wrenched his arm away from Balder. "I don't—I can't—I…I need to go," he said. He turned away from Balder and Elsa could see the tears in his eyes. "I need to…to tell Eir that her son is—that he's not coming home."

Then Jens walked away and disappeared into the thick ice wall, leaving Balder to sob bitterly into his palms.

Elsa didn't bother following him. She waved her hands to dissolve all the remaining statues as her own vision blurred with tears, and Balder's sobs echoed through the chamber even after his statue was gone.

Elsa hunched her shoulders, hugging herself. So it was true then—all of it. Balder was Kristoff's uncle, and that man, Jens, his father. His mother's name was Eir. They'd thought he died, they'd grieved.

"I need to know what happened to him," she whispered. She looked up and said, louder, "How was Kristoff separated?"

Nothing happened. Elsa swiped a hand over her eyes and frowned up at the white ceiling.

"I want to see Kristoff…Jens—Jensen. Show me Kristoff Jensen."

As the snowy mist fell and the statues rose up once more, Elsa steeled herself for what she'd find.


August 8, 1848—Arendelle Castle Town

Anna stared at the thick stack of documents on her desk. But the longer she stared, the more the words swam on the page, so she closed her eyes and leaned forward until her forehead hit the desk with a solid thump.

All week, she'd been pouring over current and pending trade agreements while simultaneously attempting to handle every minuscule detail of the wedding preparations herself. These last few days, whenever she found time to rest, all she could see were numbers, names, seating charts, and flower arrangements dancing across her closed eyelids.

Gerda had approached her more than once about relinquishing a few duties, but every time Anna refused.

Elsa never delegated anything, she'd think to herself.

Yes, but Elsa also gave up being queen to go live in the woods, her traitorous mind would answer. Yet still, she held firm.

She didn't regret becoming Queen of Arendelle, not for a second. She was honored to serve the people and kingdom she loved so much. But, sometimes, at the end of a long day, she missed the inherent freedom that came with the title of Princess.

The clock on the wall chimed—11 o'clock.

Anna perked up almost immediately, sending a few papers flying to the floor. She pushed away from her desk and stood, stretching her arms and neck.

11 o'clock meant lunch and lunch was her favorite part of the day because of one very important reason (well, okay, two):

One, delicious sandwiches.

Two, she got to see Kristoff for a whole, uninterrupted hour.

Sure, they saw each other in the evenings for dinner and before bed, but those times were usually spent with other people—Sven, Olaf, and sometimes Elsa, when she visited. But lunchtime was reserved solely for them. And when the weather was nice, like it was today, they would steal off into the gardens with a blanket and a picnic basket, and lay in the sun and eat and talk until they were inevitably interrupted and shooed off to meetings or tutoring sessions.

(That was the worst part of the day.)

But when she went down to the kitchens to pick up their basket for lunch, Kristoff wasn't there waiting for her.

She wasn't all that surprised. He'd snuck off for the occasional break here and there before. He was probably waiting for her in the gardens.

But he wasn't in the gardens. Or with his tutor—that happened sometimes too when Kristoff struggled with some topic or another and wanted extra time with it.

When she checked his chambers, she was a little taken aback at the mess she found inside. Kristoff had always kept his space very organized, but now his bed was unmade and his clothes lay in piles beside his wardrobe.

His desk was by far the worst of it, stacked high with books and scattered notes. Her fingers trailed along the spines, and she spotted several familiar history texts, as well as books on economy and trade and etiquette. She even spotted Machiavelli's The Prince among them.

Sitting in the middle of the mess was a half-crumpled piece of paper that looked like it had fought an inkwell and lost. She carefully unfolded it and read, in Kristoff's smudged, cramped handwriting:

A Good King (Consort)

He is centered.

He is decisive.

He has integrity.

He is brave.

He is wise.

He protects.

"Oh, Kristoff," she murmured. No wonder you've been so stressed.

Carefully, she refolded the list and slipped it into the pocket of her dress before leaving to continue her search.

It was only after she checked the stables and found no Kristoff or Sven that a slow wave of dread hit her.

Anna returned to the courtyard and immediately spotted General Mattias, standing on the wall above the castle gates, talking to someone she couldn't see.

She called to him: "General Mattias!"

He paused in his conversation and looked down. "Yes, your Majesty!"

"Have you seen Kristoff today?"

Mattias frowned and called back, "I'll be right down!"

"No, no, I'll come to you!" Anna said. Gathering her skirts, she climbed the wooden staircase up to the battlements.

Olaf greeted her on the top step.

"Anna!" he cried, throwing his stick arms out for a hug.

Anna acquiesced easily, wrapping her arms around the snowman and giving him a squeeze.

"Olaf, have you seen Kristoff or Sven today?" she asked as she released him.

Olaf shook his head. "Nope! The general over here just said they left early this morning and haven't come back yet."

"What?" A jolt of panic lanced through her. "Kristoff left?"

"So my guards tell me," Mattias said, joining them. "I was on my way to tell you, ma'am."

"Just Anna," Anna corrected automatically. "When did he leave?"

"Very early, ma'am. Before dawn or just about."

"Did he say why?" Anna asked. She frowned as a thought occurred to her. "Did…did a Balder Larsen go with him?"

Mattias shook his head. "Balder Larsen left yesterday shortly after your meeting. I…trust it didn't go well?"

"You could say that again. He claimed to be Kristoff's uncle."

Mattias let out a low whistle. "Pretty bold for a farmer. Did Kristoff believe him?"

Anna shook her head. "No, but his memories of his family have always been…fuzzy. All he really remembers are the trolls."

"Ah," Mattias said, uncertain.

Not many people knew about Kristoff's strange family on purpose. Anna, with Kristoff's permission, had filled Mattias in when she put him in charge of the castle's defenses last year. She'd meant it as a gesture of trust and good faith, but, apparently, even after living in an Enchanted Forest for over thirty years, the idea of trolls was still a nasty tonic to swallow.

"I wrote to Elsa and asked her if she could check into it at Ahtohallan," Anna said. "If she agrees to look, it should clear things up once and for all."

"Yeah, we wouldn't want anything weird to happen around here," Olaf said with a solemn nod.

Mattias and Anna looked at him, then at each other. Anna pressed her lips together to hide a smile while Mattias (unsuccessfully) tried to turn his laugh into a cough.

But Anna's smile quickly faded. "How long is too long for him to be gone?"

She leaned against the wall to look out over town. "Should we send a search party? Or maybe—"

Mattias placed a gentle hand on her shoulder. "Whoa, your Majesty, let's not get too hasty. Kristoff most likely just needed a long ride to think. Hearing you may or may not have a family out there when you thought you didn't would be a shock to anyone."

"It's not just that." The list she'd found felt like a boulder in her pocket. "I—I feel like I'm maybe asking too much of him? I mean, getting married is already a lot of pressure but then to just throw him into the deep end of politics and court and–and stupid rules of etiquette—"

She cut herself off with a sigh. "I just…don't want to mess everything up."

Mattias leaned against the stone wall beside her.

"Kristoff is a good man," he said after a moment. "Who…may be in a little over his head, it's true. But he's smart; he'll figure it out. And it's obvious to anyone who looks at him that he loves you very much. I doubt he'd let something as ridiculous as etiquette get in the way of that."

Anna laughed. "Thank you, General."

Mattias gave her a warm smile. "Any time, your Majesty."

"Hey!" Olaf called. He was leaning over the wall and squinting into the distance. "I can see Sven—they're coming back!"

Anna nearly wilted as relief flooded her. Kristoff had just gone for a long ride after all; he'd come back and they could talk and things would go back to normal—

"Wait…"

Olaf looked at Anna and she could see uncertainty in his bright eyes. "Kristoff's not with him."

Anna's face drained of all color. Without another word, she bolted down the battlement.

"Your Majesty—Anna, wait!" Mattias called after her, but she was already halfway down the stairs.

"Open the gates!" she shouted and her guards leaped to obey.

Sven clattered through the half-open gates and skidded to a stop at Anna's feet. He was, indeed, alone. His eyes were huge in his face and he was panting from exertion. When she touched his sweat-damp fur, she could feel him trembling.

He collapsed onto the cobblestones and Anna went down with him. She pulled the reindeer's head into her lap as her skirts pooled around them.

"What happened, Sven? Where's Kristoff?" Anna asked, hating how her voice wavered.

Sven let out a low groan.

A white blur whizzed past her. "Sven!" Olaf cried, throwing himself onto the reindeer's back. "Oh Sven, we were so worried!"

Sven grunted. Anna ran her fingers through the fur between his antlers and slowly his trembling stopped.

She felt a warm presence by her shoulder.

"Your Majesty?" Mattias asked, crouching beside her.

Anna straightened her shoulders. She looked down at Sven. "Can you take me to him?" she whispered.

Sven grunted again. Olaf slid off his back as the reindeer, with visible effort, got to his feet. Olaf immediately leaned into Sven's side, trying to help him stand.

Mattias extended a hand and helped Anna up.

"Does he know where Kristoff is?"

Anna nodded.

"You there!" Mattias called, and a guard closest to them jumped to attention. "Ready our horses!"

The guard rushed to obey.

"I'm coming too," Mattias said to Anna's questioning look.

"Thank you," she said. She ran a comforting hand through Sven's fur. "Let's get you some water."

"I'll get it!" Olaf said, dashing away.

The guard returned with their horses and Kai appeared with their cloaks. Mattias easily swung himself up and settled onto his horse.

But when Anna made to do the same, Sven put up a huge racket, chuffing and grunting, nuzzling his nose under Anna's arm. After several seconds, it dawned on her that the reindeer wanted her to ride on him instead.

"Oof, okay! Okay, Sven," she said, rubbing Sven's nose.

"My lady," Kai said, holding her cloak out to her.

"Thank you," she said, slipping it over her shoulders. "I'll be back as soon as I can."

Kai nodded, though his face was troubled. "Be safe, Anna."

"I will."

Olaf returned with a sloshing bucket of water. Sven drank deeply from it before nudging Anna's arm again.

Anna climbed up onto his back and reached out a hand to help Olaf up behind her. Before she could say anything else, Sven began to run. Mattias urged his horse after them and, in a clatter of hooves, they were off.


August 8, 1848—The Valley of the Living Rock

They were a few miles into their journey before Anna realized where Sven was taking them. She'd traveled this path into the woods many times before, though never without Kristoff to lead the way.

Olaf recognized where they were around the same time she did.

"The trolls?" he asked over the steady pounding of Sven's hooves. "Why would Kristoff be in trouble here?"

"I don't know," Anna said. She gripped Sven's harness tighter.

Only when the forest began to blend into stone did Sven start to slow. Rocky walls towered over them on either side, covered with moss and tree roots. Only the gentle hiss of the steam vents could be heard—there were no bird calls. Despite the time of year, it was strangely cold.

Sven came to a stop at the entrance to the rocky valley where Anna knew the trolls lived. He grunted low in his throat and stomped his hooves on the ground but refused to take another step.

Anna slid off his back and helped Olaf down. Mattias dismounted behind her to stand at her side, one hand resting on the hilt of his sword.

"Is this it?" he asked quietly.

"They live just through there," Anna said, pointing. The path was curved, but she could still see a sliver of the gathering place, and the round, mossy stones that told her trolls were within, just sleeping.

There was no sign of Kristoff though, and that worried her. Surely, if he was able, he would've come to greet them?

"Sven?" she asked. "Where's Kristoff?"

Sven chuffed and gestured his head toward the valley.

"Well, what are we waiting for?" Olaf asked. He strolled forward and disappeared around the bend in the road—

Only to reappear again. But this time, he was walking toward them.

When he saw them there, staring at him, he stopped.

"Huh? How did you guys get in here before me?"

Anna blinked. "We haven't moved. Why'd you turn around?"

Olaf twisted to look behind him, a confused frown on his face. "I didn't?"

"Oh, come on," Anna said, walking forward to head down the path herself. "You must've just—"

Her whole body tingled and, suddenly, she was facing the wrong way. She couldn't see the trolls' gathering place anymore, just Mattias and Olaf and Sven staring at her.

Sven grunted, shaking his head. And Anna knew that if Kristoff were here, he could translate that to say, see?

"But…this doesn't make any sense," Anna said, looking back at the path behind her.

"My guess is it's some form of…magical defense," Mattias said, hand on his chin. "To keep intruders out."

"But I'm not an intruder!" Anna cried, resisting the urge to stomp her foot. "I was just here with Kristoff to drop off invitations last week!"

Oh god, she thought. Kristoff.

Her head was spinning. Were—were the trolls behind this? Were they…holding him hostage? But why would they do that; Kristoff, he was—they were his family.

A chill crept up her spine. Unless…unless they weren't

Olaf held up one finger.

"I'm going to try again," he said.

And he walked down the path and immediately came back out again.

He let out a full-body shiver. "Oh, that's so strange."

Sven nodded.

"There's gotta be a way in," Anna said desperately. "Maybe if I run—"

"No, nope, that's a no," Mattias said. "I'm not just going to let the queen run headfirst into danger, thank you."

"It's not like I haven't before—"

"Wait," Mattias said, cutting her off. He turned around, his eyes scanning the rocks. "I hear something."

Anna and Olaf exchanged glances but didn't move.

Mattias withdrew his sword an inch but didn't unsheathe it fully. "Show yourself!"

"Stand down, General," came a voice. "It's just me."

Anna instantly brightened. "Elsa?"

Elsa stepped out from behind a large boulder and smiled at them. Behind her, the Nokk whinnied in greeting.

Anna wasted no time in closing the distance and throwing herself into Elsa's open arms. Mattias slowly released his grip on his sword.

"You got my letter," Anna said, pulling back to take Elsa's hands in her own.

"I did," Elsa said. "Anna, what are you doing out here?"

For the first time since this all began, Anna wanted to cry. "Kristoff's missing."

Elsa sucked in a breath. Her hands were so cold in Anna's grip.

Anna gestured behind her. "Sven brought us here, to the trolls' valley, but we—we can't get in."

"Yeah, it just sends us right back out like some kind of terrible merry-go-round," Olaf added as the reindeer grunted in agreement. He waved. "Hi, Elsa!"

"Hi, Olaf," Elsa said. She smiled at him but it didn't reach her eyes.

"Did you look?" Anna asked, searching Elsa's face.

Elsa squeezed Anna's hands. "I did," she said softly. "Balder Larsen was telling the truth."

Anna drew in a shaky breath and nodded. "Okay," she said. "So, what do we do now?" She paused. "Wait, what are you doing here? How did you even know where we were?"

"I…didn't," Elsa admitted. "I saw some things in Ahtohallan—things that didn't make any sense. I was coming to ask Pabbie about it before I came to you."

"What was it?"

"Remember that night?" Elsa asked before stopping and shaking her head. "Wait, no, sorry, you wouldn't. Do you remember when I told you about that night, and the accident, and how Mother and Father brought you to the trolls for healing?"

Anna nodded.

"Well, after, when we were riding away, I remember…there was a child with the trolls," Elsa said.

"Kristoff?" Olaf guessed.

Elsa nodded. "He was there that night. And the troll, Bulda, she took him and Sven in, and raised them as her own."

"But why would she do that?" Anna asked, bewildered. "If she knew he already had a family?"

"I've heard of fae that take people—and children, sometimes," Mattias said. "There's never a reason for it other than they want to."

"I've heard of that too," Elsa said. "I just didn't think the ones we knew were capable of such a thing."

"No fae can truly be trusted," Mattias said with a little shake of his head. "Their desires can change on a whim."

Twin tears rolled down Anna's cheeks even as she furiously blinked them back. "Pabbie changed Kristoff's memories, didn't he? That's what you saw."

Elsa hesitated. "I couldn't see it clearly," she said. "It was too deep."

Anna shuddered. Elsa squeezed her hands again.

"But…" Elsa continued, full of sorrow. "I think that's a safe assumption. Yes."

Olaf wrapped his thin arms around Anna's legs.

"He must've figured it out," Anna whispered. "And came here to ask them. And…and then—"

Sven let out a low, mournful sound.

Elsa drew herself up, putting her shoulders back. Her fingertips sparkled.

"Come on," she said, angry determination in her voice. "We are getting into that valley."

As a group, they returned to the entrance of the Valley of the Living Rock.

And, same as before, they walked in and immediately found themselves walking back out.

"See? Terrible merry-go-round," Olaf muttered. Beside him, Sven nodded.

"What a strange feeling," Elsa said, flexing her fingers.

Anna opened her mouth to speak, but before she could, a lilting voice behind them called, "The way is shut, Fifth Spirit. You won't be able to find him that way."

In one fluid motion, Mattias pushed Anna and Olaf behind him and drew his sword. Elsa whirled around at the same time, her hands raised and shimmering with barely contained magic.

A beautiful woman stood before them. Long, golden hair trailed down around her face and shoulders, nearly touching the forest floor. Resting on her head was a crown of pale purple moss campions, pointed like stars. Her face was smooth and young and fair. She wore a simple white dress and no shoes.

And, gently sweeping back and forth beneath her skirt, was a long tail with a tuft of stiff black hair at the end, like a cow's.

"Who are you?" Elsa demanded.

The woman tilted her chin. "I would've expected the Fifth Spirit to recognize a huldra when she saw one," she said stiffly. "This forest is mine, as it has always been mine, and will always continue to be mine. You travel here only with my permission—permission easily given"—her tail thrashed—"or revoked."

Elsa ground her teeth together; Anna glared; Olaf curled his stick fingers into Anna's skirt; Mattias' sword flashed.

But the huldra only smiled. "The trolls you called friends only lay claim to the rocky valley. They have your Kristoff."

"How do we get him back?" Anna asked.

"You don't," the huldra replied. "He was not yours when he was taken, so he is not yours to claim. Only those to whom he originally belonged can."

Olaf tugged at Anna's skirt. "I think she's talking about Kristoff's family," he whispered, just a little too loud. The huldra's gaze zeroed in on him, and he shrank back behind Anna.

Anna smiled weakly at him and patted his head.

"Why are you telling us this?" Elsa asked. "What do you stand to gain?"

"The rest of my forest," came the huldra's easy reply.

"How do we know you're telling the truth?" Anna asked, her eyes narrowing.

The huldra raised one perfect eyebrow. "Found a way into the valley, have you?"

Anna opened her mouth to reply, frowned, then closed it again.

The huldra laughed. "Good luck, little Queen, Fifth Spirit," she said as she stepped back, disappearing between the stones. "You are going to need it."

And then, she was gone.

"Wow, was she creepy," Olaf said, wiping non-existent sweat away from his forehead. He looked up at Anna expectantly. "So, what do we do now?"

"I guess…we go find Kristoff's family?" she asked, looking to her sister.

Elsa set her jaw. "I know where their home is," she said. "Follow me."

Olaf followed her easily, reaching for her hand. Elsa took it with a smile and led him to where the Nokk was waiting.

Mattias returned his sword to its sheath. He rested his hand on Anna's shoulder for a brief moment before striding off to his own horse.

Anna took a deep breath and let it out again.

She reached for Sven's harness and gave it a little tug. But he didn't move—just stared at the sliver of the valley they could still see.

"C'mon, Sven," Anna said. "We'll come back. He's–he's fine."

He has to be, she thought. She couldn't afford to think any other way.

The reindeer let out a low, mournful cry.

Anna wrapped her arms around his neck, pressing her face into his fur.

"I know, Sven," she whispered. "We'll get him back, I know it."

We have to.

I have to.


August 8, 1848—Nowhere and Everywhere

Kristoff awoke to a splitting headache.

He sat up with a groan, cradling his head in his hands. Black spots peppered his vision. He swayed in place and nearly lay down again.

Hands pressed against his back, holding him upright. Something was thrust under his nose, and as he breathed in, the heavy scent of mushrooms and lichen nearly overwhelmed him.

"Here, drink," a soothing voice said in his ear. "You'll feel better."

Kristoff blindly reached out and grabbed the cup, raising it to his lips.

Wait, he thought, hesitating. This isn't…where…

He blinked and the black spots slowly receded. He sat on a bed of moss and leaves, and in his hands was a small clay cup filled with a brackish, steaming liquid. All around him were towering stone walls covered in damp moss. Hovering over them was a thick, white mist so like the magical mist of the Enchanted Forest it made his stomach twist.

And, beside him, Bulda was there, smiling.

Kristoff flung the cup away. It shattered, its contents splattering against the stone wall.

Bulda clucked her tongue. "That wasn't very polite, Kristoff. I raised you better."

"Where am I?" Kristoff demanded, his voice hoarse. "Where's Sven?"

"Gone," Bulda said, standing.

Kristoff swallowed hard and did his best to squash down any outward sign of panic. Gone could mean anything, it didn't have to mean...maybe—maybe Sven escaped, and ran for help—

He is brave.

"Where am I?" he repeated. "This isn't the Valley."

"That's my Kristoff," Bulda said. "Always so perceptive."

She bent to pick up the pieces of the broken cup. "We are nowhere and everywhere, and here we'll remain until the proper time."

"What–what does that mean?"

The black spots were returning, and Kristoff strained to keep his eyes open.

"You'll see," Bulda said.

She turned to go. "I'll make us some more tea. Try to get some sleep, Kristoff."

Kristoff shook his head. He struggled to stand but only managed to get one foot under him before he was forced back down to his knees.

"Let me—let me go," he mumbled.

"Not yet. Sleep…"

And Kristoff slept.

And dreamed.


Notes:

1. An alternate quote for this chapter could be; "Trolls suck." —Betty White

2. I always have to laugh at how easily this kingdom just lets its royalty run off on daring adventures. I mean, it's not like they can exactly stop them but like, you'd think they'd learn, right? At least this time they've got Mattias (and an actual sword this time lol).

3. I tend to think of Elsa's role as the Fifth Spirit as similar to The Giver from the Lois Lowry book of the same name: someone with access to/knowledge of the past who advises others in making decisions about the future. I'd imagine she doesn't have to do this all that often though, so who knows what she does on a daily basis (I certainly don't lol).

4. Kristoff's "real" last name comes from the old patronymic naming method: the father's name + "sen" (son)/"dotter" (daughter).

5. A huldra, a creature from Norse folklore, takes the shape of a beautiful woman with long blonde hair and a crown of flowers. Her only non-human feature is the tail of a cow. A huldra would seduce unmarried men and take them away to the mountains, but if a man were to marry her in a Christian church, her tail would fall off and she'd become an ugly woman with the strength of ten men. They're just so weird, I had to include one.