by Jen Calonita
She couldn’t fall asleep right away. Her mind wandered back to the cake. She pictured the Larsens raving about it to their guests. Guests who had traveled from Arendelle and would go back to the kingdom talking about Anna’s work. Soon the king and queen would hear of her baking. Maybe they’d request she bake for them at the castle. Wouldn’t her parents and Freya be proud? There was no way they’d hold her back from moving to Arendelle if they knew the king and queen were requesting her work. She could just see herself making snowman cookies for the royal family. The cookies immediately made her think of her aunt.
Anna hoped Freya would be back from her travels soon and that when she returned, she’d convince Ma and Papa to let Anna visit Arendelle. Her mother kept stressing that it wasn’t a definite. “Freya works a great deal. We have to find the right time for you to go, if you can go at all.” Her mother never stopped worrying! Neither did Papa. He talked about driving her down the mountain himself and waiting nearby in case she wanted to leave early. She couldn’t remember the last time Papa had left Harmon. She tried convincing them that they should close the shop and all go together for a few days, but Papa wouldn’t hear of it. “We don’t even know if you will be able to go,” he’d said. But Anna knew in her heart of hearts that Arendelle was in her future. She could feel it in every inch of her being.
When Anna finally drifted off, she didn’t dream of snowmen. This dream was unpleasant. Anna felt cold, like she was sitting in a block of ice, and she couldn’t see her hand in front of her face. Snow was swirling all around as if she were in a blizzard, but the weather didn’t seem like a regular storm. It was filled with a darkness that threatened to swallow her whole. Even worse, she sensed that someone out there desperately needed her to find them.
Anna tried to fight the weather to get to them, turning into the pelting ice and wind to search, but she couldn’t see the person. She could hear wailing, but it was so far in the distance she didn’t know where it was coming from. All she knew was that she needed to find this person before it was too late. Something told her if she followed her heart and trusted her instincts, she would.
“Is anyone there?” Anna cried over the wind, but no one answered her. She had never felt more alone. She took a step forward and plunged off the edge of a snowy cliff.
Anna woke up gasping for air. “Help! She needs help!” She clutched her chest as if it hurt. “It was just a dream,” she repeated over and over. But it hadn’t felt like a dream. It felt real.
She needed to get out of that room.
Anna threw back the covers and slid into her shoes. The sun was lower in the sky than it had been earlier. Her parents would soon be finishing up for the day. Maybe a walk would do her good.
She slipped out the front door without saying goodbye and began to wander the village aimlessly. For once, she didn’t stop and talk to every person she saw. Instead, she kept her head down and hugged her arms to her chest, trying to smother the cold that seemed to permeate her body. It was a dream, yet it had felt so real.
Someone had been in terrible pain, but all wasn’t lost. If she trusted her instincts, Anna knew she could help. How strange…
She rubbed her arms to keep warm, walking aimlessly. Suddenly, a carriage roared down the road, startling her. Anna watched as it came to a halt in front of the church and a palace guard jumped out. Anna had never seen an official royal carriage in Harmon before. The guard nailed a proclamation to the church door, spoke to the bishop who came out to greet him, then got in the carriage and raced away. The bishop started talking to anyone who approached, and people began to run back to their homes with the news. Others flooded out of their houses, making their way to the proclamation to see what was written. Anna drifted closer and watched a woman read the news and gasp. Someone next to her burst into tears. There was commotion and wailing. Suddenly, the church bells began to toll. Anna tried to get through the crowd to see what was written, but people were pushing and shoving in an effort to get a closer look. Still she hugged her arms to her chest, struggling to get warm. It was silly, but she almost felt like she was still dreaming.
“Excuse me,” Anna said to a man who had just been standing near the front steps. “Can you tell me what the guard posted on the church?”
He wiped his eyes. “The king and queen, rest their souls, have been lost at sea. Their ship never reached its destination.”
“What?” Anna clutched her chest. “No!”
“Yes,” he said, pushing farther into the crowd. “The proclamation says we are entering a period of mourning.”
“And Princess Elsa?” Anna said, afraid to hear his response.
“She lives,” he said. “Spread the word and pray for Arendelle and our future queen. She is on her own now.”
I must tell Ma and Papa, Anna thought. She ran all the way to the bakery and found Papa sweeping the shop floor. When she flew through the door, slamming it behind her, he looked up, startled.
“What’s wrong?” Papa dropped the broom and moved toward her. “Anna Bear, are you all right? I heard the carriage. Someone said it was royal, but I didn’t go out to see. Is something the matter?”
Anna nodded, trying hard not to cry. “Where is Ma?”
“Here.” Ma came from the entry to their house, wiping her hands on her apron. She, too, saw Anna’s face, and her own fell. “What’s the matter?”
“I think you should both sit down,” Anna said. “Come into the living room.”
Her parents followed her inside, but they wouldn’t sit. They were holding hands. Anna took a deep breath. “There’s been a terrible tragedy. The king and queen have been lost at sea.” She closed her eyes; the news was almost too much even to think about.
“No!” her mother wailed so loud Anna began to shake. “That’s impossible! What happened?”
Anna’s lower lip trembled. “The castle just posted a proclamation. We are to enter a period of mourning. The king and queen’s ship never made it to its destination.” She bowed her head. “King Agnarr and Queen Iduna, may they rest in peace.” It was so tragic she couldn’t bear it, and both her parents were inconsolable. Her mother fell into a chair in a heap while her father rocked back and forth.
“No, why? Why?” he called to the heavens.
Anna tried to comfort her mother. “It’s terrible, I know. But all is not lost. The princess is safe. We will have a queen again.”
Her mother cried harder. Papa put his arm around Anna. “When she turns twenty-one, she will take her place at the throne. But for now…”
“That poor girl,” Anna whispered. She imagined her all alone in that big castle. She rubbed her chest. She couldn’t get warm. “I can’t believe the princess lost her parents.”
There was silence in the room. Finally, Papa spoke. “Tomally, we must tell her,” he said.
Anna looked from her mother to her father. “Tell me what?”
“Yes,” her mother agreed, and reached for Anna’s hands. “There is something you don’t know.” She sighed heavily. “Anna Bear, the queen had several ladies of the court with her on the ship. One of those ladies was Freya.” Ma burst into tears again, and Papa put his arm around her shoulders.
“Freya? No! Freya?” Anna immediately started to cry. “Are you sure? What about her family? Were they with her?”
Ma looked at Papa. “Her husband would be lost as well, but Freya told us their daughter was staying home.”
“Should we send for her? Does she have other family?” Anna whispered, her grief overwhelming her. “Will she be all right?”
“She will be fine,” Ma said, but she couldn’t stop crying.
“Papa, this can’t be true, can it? Are you sure Freya was on that ship?” Anna asked.
Her father hesitated. “Yes.” His jaw shook. “This was the trip Freya spoke of on her last visit. She didn’t like to boast, but she traveled with the king and queen.” His eyes filled with tears. “Our dear friend is gone.”
Yes, Anna was sad the king
and queen had perished, but Freya was family. Anna felt weak in the knees. Her father reached out with his free arm to steady her. She sank to the floor, reaching for her mother to comfort her. “Not Freya. No!” She buried her head in her mother’s chest.
Her mother stroked her hair. “Anna Bear, I’m so sorry. So terribly sorry,” she choked out. She pulled her daughter away from her so she could look her in the eyes. “There’s something else you should know, too.”
“Tomally!” Papa’s voice was sharp. “You made a vow. You cannot break it now.”
Anna winced. She’d never heard her father raise his voice to her mother before.
“I have to, Johan! She deserves to know the truth! If not now, when?”
“It’s not your truth to tell!” he argued.
What truth? “I’m fifteen. If there is more, I want to hear it.”
Ma smiled sadly. “Nothing, darling. I’m sorry. I’m just terribly upset. Freya was my oldest and dearest friend.”
Anna reached for her mother again, and they clung to each other. Papa put an arm around each of them.
They were grieving; it made sense their emotions were high. She could feel the tears coming harder now. Freya wasn’t coming back. Their king and queen were gone. The walls seemed like they were closing in, but Anna refused to let them.
Her eyes searched for a comforting sight. Over her mother’s shoulder, she found the living room window. The image was hard to see with her eyes filled with tears, but Anna knew it was there. If she peered out between two rows of houses and looked toward the bottom of the mountain, Arendelle was still there, calling for her. She couldn’t help wondering what was happening inside the castle walls at that very moment. Who was comforting Princess Elsa?
Anna clung tighter to her parents. More than anything, Anna hoped Elsa wasn’t alone.
Elsa stared up at the ice-covered ceiling while snow fell around her.
It had been three days since she had learned her parents’ ship was lost at sea. She hadn’t left her room. She didn’t sleep in her bed. She hardly touched the food left outside her door. She refused to see anyone, including Lord Peterssen, who was the closest thing she had left to family. All she wanted was to be left alone.
Snowflakes fell onto her nose and cheeks as she stared at the icicles hanging from the ceiling. Icicles she had somehow created.
How ironic that she had been given these strange powers at the exact moment she no longer had anyone to share them with.
She lifted her hand, fingers trembling, and felt the ice slipping loose again. The ice formed a frosty path across the ceiling. Elsa still wasn’t sure how it worked, but at least she could sense when it was about to happen now. She would feel tingling in her fingers and her heart would speed up. She noticed it always happened when she was thinking about her parents. Did she even think about anything else now? No.
She was not getting up off the floor anytime soon.
There was a quiet knock at the door. She knew who it was without asking.
“I am leaving soon for the memorial. Please consider coming with me, Elsa.”
It was Lord Peterssen. Even though she hadn’t left her room, she knew what he was talking about. Kai, Gerda, Olina, and Lord Peterssen had been talking to her through her closed door for days.
Nothing they could tell her was of importance. She already knew who would run the kingdom. Papa had told her before his trip that if anything ever happened to him, Lord Peterssen would handle affairs until Elsa came of age at twenty-one and could be coronated. Anything else they had to say didn’t matter.
It upset her to think she didn’t know her parents as well as she had thought she did. When she considered the argument she had overheard before they left, the trunk in the attic with the mysterious letter A, and her strange powers, she had to wonder. There were so many questions she wished she could ask her parents. Did you know I was capable of magic? If you did, why didn’t you tell me? Were you ashamed I was born with this power? Scared? Worried about what our people would think? I’ll never know. You’ve taken your secrets to the grave and left me alone to figure things out.
“Elsa, please? Your parents would want you to be there. Open the door.”
She closed her eyes tight. The memorial service for her parents was being held high above the fjord. Even though Papa and Mama had perished at sea, markers were being placed up there in their honor. Hundreds of subjects were expected to turn out. They’d want to offer their condolences and sympathy, but she knew she wouldn’t be able to handle the situation. Ice would shoot out uncontrollably. They’d brand her a witch or a monster. They’d demand she abdicate the throne. Her parents’ legacy would be gone in a moment.
No, she couldn’t go to her parents’ memorial. She couldn’t go anywhere in public till she got a handle on her magic.
Until then, she would stay locked in her room. She’d never leave the castle. She would avoid contact with most of the staff. Her sole purpose would be to conceal her powers. Don’t feel it, she reminded herself. Don’t let it show.
Her parents had loved her so much. She still needed them—she was desperate to tell them what had happened. What if she couldn’t handle the power on her own? She couldn’t tell Lord Peterssen for fear of frightening him. The throne was at stake. She had no choice but to suffer in silence.
“Elsa? Can you hear me?”
“What is she saying?” said a second voice, much more insistent than the first.
Elsa heard Lord Peterssen patiently trying to explain the situation.
“I know she’s upset,” said the second voice, “but it won’t look right for the future queen not to be at her parents’ memorial. What will the people think?”
It was cleary the Duke of Weselton. He had no say in their kingdom, but he seemed to feel that being a close trade partner allowed him to weigh in on things. He had raced back to Arendelle when news broke of the king’s and queen’s demises. As much as his presence frustrated her, she knew he was right. She should honor her parents and be at the service. But that would mean she’d have to pick herself up off the floor and risk everyone’s finding out what she was capable of.
“Please leave,” Elsa croaked.
Silence.
“She isn’t coming,” Elsa heard Lord Peterssen tell the Duke. He didn’t argue. Moments later, she heard them walk away.
Elsa sat up and looked at Sir JorgenBjorgen lying on her bed. He had been there since she’d thrown him days before. Now he was covered in ice. She suddenly wished she could reach him. When she was a child, she had truly loved that toy. Not just because the doll had been such a good listener, but because he was her constant companion. She had liked to imagine that the doll loved her in return.
For a split second, Elsa recalled a new memory of her younger self. She was building a snowman with another girl. They pulled the snowman around the room laughing. It was clear they loved each other. Her hands started to tingle in an unfamiliar way—they were warm—then the sensation was gone and she was left with a sharp headache.
What was that? she wondered. The girl had to be in her imagination. She had never used magic before that week. Had she?
Elsa stood up, her legs shaking. She held on to her bed frame to keep from falling. Heart pounding, fingers aching, she closed her eyes again and tried to remember the love she had just felt coursing through her veins. The emotion was stronger than fear. This feeling had come from building something out of love—a snowman for the two girls to enjoy. If only she could capture that in a bottle and hold it close. Especially now, when she was more alone than she ever had been before.
It couldn’t hurt to try.
Swirling her arms right and left, Elsa allowed the ice and snow to burst forth, but this time, she tried to focus on the love and leave the fear out of it. She thought again of the vision of her and the girl laughing and building a snowman. When she opened her eyes, the snow was swirling like a cyclone in front of her. It funneled up from the ground, creating snowballs
that were pulled into the air and formed into a snowman. He had a wide bottom and two stubby snowball feet, a modest middle section, and an oval head with a large mouth and prominent front teeth. Elsa stumbled back in disbelief at her creation. Had she really just controlled her powers to build a snowman? She almost laughed at the absurdity of it. But Elsa pushed forward and focused on the snowman in front of her, grabbing kindling from the fire for his arms and hair, some coal from the ashes for buttons, and a carrot from last night’s dinner plate for his nose. When she stepped back to admire her work, she noticed something strange. The snowman suddenly glowed with the same blue haze her powers had. When the glow faded, the snowman blinked his big eyes. Elsa jumped back in surprise.
“Hi! I’m Olaf, and I like warm hugs.”
Wait, the snowman was alive? Her powers could do more than create snow—they could make a real being? Elsa’s breath was shallow as she watched the snowman begin to walk—walk!—around her room. She stared at her hands in wonder. How was this even possible? “Did you just talk?” Elsa whispered, not believing her eyes or ears.
“Yes! I’m Olaf,” the snowman repeated. He picked up Sir JorgenBjorgen. “Ooh! What’s this? Hi,” he said to her doll. “I’m Olaf!”
“Olaf,” she repeated, trying to calm down. Why did the snowman’s name sound so familiar?
“Elsa, you built me,” the snowman said. “Remember?”
“You know who I am?”
“Yeah, why?” Olaf toddled away to examine the window seat.
Elsa was stunned by what was happening, but what was more, for a split second she’d forgotten her sorrow. A memory of love had led her to create a walking, talking snowman.
