A Frozen Heart

by Elizabeth Rudnick

  As soon as Sven’s hooves touched down on the other side, Anna slipped off the reindeer’s back and turned to look at Kristoff. Just a few more feet. Just a few more feet, she thought, watching the sleigh arc through the air. And then it began to lose momentum. Anna watched helplessly as Kristoff raced to the front of the sleigh and jumped.

  Arms and legs flailing, he flew through the air. And then, with a loud thud, he slammed into the snowy edge of the cliff. Anna let out her breath. Behind him, the front of the sleigh nosed down and plummeted to the ground far below. A moment later there was a loud bang as what was left of the sleigh went up in flames.

  Kristoff looked down and let out a loud groan. “But I just paid it off!” he said.

  Anna didn’t care. A sleigh was replaceable. Annoying as he was, she was beginning to suspect that Kristoff was not.

  Looking at Kristoff, Anna realized that his fingers were beginning to slip. If I don’t do something fast, he’ll be following his sleigh, Anna thought. Quickly, she opened the bag that was still clutched in her hands. Rummaging around, her fingers closed on something metal. Something metal with sharp points at the end. Pulling the item out, she let out a happy cry. It was exactly what she needed—an ax. Anna’s smile broadened as the bag of goodies revealed another prize—a long piece of thick rope. Kjekk had been a master escape artist when he was younger, and after his twentieth escape, she had asked Old Narn, the stable hand, how to make the tightest knot possible.

  “Thank you, Narn,” she whispered under her breath now as she began to attach the rope to the ax.

  Anna’s fingers were trembling by the time she completed the knot and checked that it was tight. Satisfied, she ran over to Sven. “Okay, buddy,” she said, trying to sound confident. “I’m going to need your help here. I’m going to tie one end of this rope to you.” As she spoke, she began to do just that. “And the other end I’m going to throw to Kristoff. Sound good?” The reindeer appeared to nod. “Okay then, let’s do this.”

  Slipping and sliding her way as close to the edge as she could, Anna took a deep breath. “Kristoff!” she shouted. A muffled groan sounded from below the cliff’s edge. That was all she needed to hear. Pulling back her arm, she began to swing the rope in a circle. The ax whizzed by her ear, narrowly missing her. With each rotation of her arm it went faster and faster. Finally, with a shout, she let it go.

  The ax flew through the air and began to fall, the rope ripping through her gloved hands. Anna held her breath as it flew right at Kristoff. There was a ping as the ax made contact with the snow-covered rock, and then the rope went taught.

  “Now, Sven!” Anna shouted. Behind her, the reindeer began to pull. And pull. And pull harder. With each step he took, the pit of worry that had formed in the bottom of her stomach grew larger. What if the rope wasn’t strong enough to pull Kristoff back to safety? What if her knot wasn’t tight enough after all?

  But Anna and Sven made a good team. With the help of a few pulls on the rope, Kristoff clawed his way back over the cliff and onto level ground.

  With Kristoff safe, Anna peeked over the edge of the cliff to check on the sled. It was completely smashed to pieces. And on fire.

  Everything Kristoff owned was going up in smoke.

  Anna waited for a moment, not sure what to say. The ice harvester seemed heartbroken, as if he had lost a friend, not an inanimate object. “I’ll replace your sled. And everything in it,” she finally said apologetically. “I understand if you don’t want to help me anymore….”

  Anna waited for Kristoff to respond. When he didn’t, she nodded. It looked like she was on her own. Turning, she began to walk away from Kristoff and Sven.

  So I don’t know where I’m going, she thought as she walked. I didn’t know where I was going before, and I managed to find Oaken’s. And so I probably won’t see Kristoff again. No big deal. I was getting tired of all his questions. I’m sure I’ll be just fine without him. I’m sure I won’t get lost or run into those wolves again or—

  “Hold up!”

  Anna spun around at the sound of Kristoff’s voice. He and Sven were making their way to her. “We’re coming!”

  “You are?” Anna shouted, relief washing over her. She took an excited step toward the pair, and then stopped herself. She had gotten Kristoff to agree to take her up the North Mountain by seeming strong and in charge. She needed to keep up that bravado now. No reason to let him know how much she actually needed him. Anna tamped down her smile and waited for them to reach her. “I mean, sure,” she said, trying not to show her relief. “I’ll let you tag along.”

  But as soon as her back was to Kristoff, she smiled wide. For as much as he pretended to be a tough guy, she was beginning to think Kristoff was just a big softy. Which was fine by her, especially if it meant getting back on track and finding her sister.

  ANNA WAS MISSING. Her horse had returned but she, the princess of Arendelle, had not.

  Hans plastered a look of concern on his face as he stood holding the reins of Anna’s horse. He keenly felt the eyes of Arendelle’s people upon him and knew his every movement and every expression was being watched—closely.

  Of course, it wasn’t hard to look concerned. When the horse had first returned, Hans had been genuinely frightened. His heart had lurched and his palms had grown sweaty. Letting Anna race up into the mountains unaccompanied had not felt right to him in the first place. With her out of his sight, he had no control over the one person he needed the most control of. If Anna was missing—or worse, hurt—everything was in jeopardy. He couldn’t become king without a princess to become queen.

  Taking a deep breath, Hans took in the reactions of those around him. The villagers who still remained in the square looked concerned. That he had expected. But he was pleased to note they were looking to him for help. The dignitaries, too, were watching him process this sudden turn of events. Some, like his new allies, wore expressions of concern, while others, such as the Duke, looked far too pleased for Hans’s liking. The Duke was busily whispering to one of his men, who in turn looked Hans up and down before nodding. Saying something back to the Duke, the two men smirked.

  “Princess Anna’s horse,” he heard someone shout.

  “What happened to her?” another villager cried out. “Where is she?”

  Then another, older voice called out shakily. “Why hasn’t she stopped the winter?”

  The words chilled Hans to the core. The thought had not crossed his mind until that very moment. So focused on what Anna’s disappearance might mean for his chance at the crown, he had failed to think of the bigger picture. If Anna was gone, there was a very good chance that their ability to end the winter was gone as well. Elsa felt no warmth for Hans, that was clear. Even if he was to go after her himself, what incentive would she have to listen to him when he begged her to end the winter? The only reason he had felt comfortable letting Anna go in the first place was because he believed she was the only one capable of putting an end to this winter. And now that chance might have slipped through his fingers. His stomach dropped.

  Raising his eyes, he saw that while he had been lost in thought, the crowd had been silent, waiting to see what he would say. Looking out over the sea of faces, the knot in his stomach began to ease. They were all looking to him—Prince Hans—to fix this. From the oldest man to the youngest girl, they all had hope and trust written across their faces. If they thought him responsible and brave, he would have to act responsible and brave. He would deal with the issue of winter as it came. First he needed to find Anna.

  “Princess Anna is in trouble!” he announced to the people. “I need volunteers to go with me to find her!”

  Instantly, a flood of people rushed forward, offering their services. Some were farmers, others castle staff. Some were old while others looked like they had only just left their mothers’ sides.

  Hans couldn’t help wondering: if the situation were different and it were Hans who had disappeared somewhere in the Southern Isles, w
ould there would be such an outpouring of love? Probably not. Yet here these people are, offering to risk their lives for a princess they have hardly seen for years.

  Focusing on the crowd, Hans quickly sized up who he thought would be the most help. “You,” he said, pointing to a young man who looked roughly his age. “I’ll take you. And you, sir,” he added, pointing to a slightly older farmer with strong arms. “You can come as well.” As he continued to handpick a group, he was met with some resistance.

  “Why won’t you take me, Prince Hans?” a boy who looked no more than ten asked, looking up at him with big weepy eyes. “I want to help.”

  “I do, too,” a little girl said, stepping up. She clutched a tattered blanket in her hand and had to take her thumb out of her mouth to speak. “I love Princess Anna. She’s so brave.”

  Hans knew he was being watched, his every move scrutinized. This was his moment to impress the people of Arendelle. To win them over. He crouched down so he was at eye level with the little girl. “I wish I could take you with me,” he said, trying to be as kind as he knew Anna would be in this situation. “But I need you to stay here and be my eyes and ears in case she returns. I’ll need you to tell her I love her very much and that I’ll be back soon. Can you do that?”

  The little girl nodded shyly.

  “Thank you,” Hans said, pinching her cheek gently.

  Then, standing up, he addressed the rest of the crowd. “Princess Anna would be touched by your concern, and as her representative, I thank you for your willingness to join me. But I cannot take everyone. The mountains are treacherous and a large group would only slow us down. I ask that those of you who stay behind continue to keep the fires going as best you can and wait for my return. I promise, I’ll bring the princess back.”

  Hans turned to the visiting dignitaries and raised an eyebrow. They had been surprisingly quiet when the townsfolk stepped up to the task. Where has their support gone? Hans wondered. Only a short time ago, some of them had been pledging their loyalty and making vows to support Arendelle under its new leadership. Now they were acting like schoolchildren hiding in the back of the class, hoping not to be called upon.

  “Lords? Sirs?” Hans implored. “Will none of you offer help?”

  Hans could hear the creaking of the ice underfoot in the silence that followed. Finally, the lord of Kongsberg spoke up. “I have with me only a few men, Prince Hans. If I were to send them with you…” His voice trailed off, the excuse weak even to his ears.

  “I, too,” said Prince Wils, “would love to help, but do we really believe the princess can be saved? Look at the mountain.” All eyes turned to view the monster looming in the distance. “A soldier would have a hard enough time traversing the terrain. I doubt the princess could.” He lowered his eyes. “I’m sorry, Prince Hans, but I don’t believe in wasting time or lives on a fool’s errand.”

  Hans narrowed his eyes. “I appreciate your candor. But I’m not quite as willing as you to just give up.”

  “Prince Hans,” the Eldoran dignitary said hesitantly. “I think what Prince Wils is trying to say is that you should not be leaving at a time like this. Arendelle is holding on by a thread, and as you were quick to tell us earlier, you were chosen to lead in the princess’s absence. If you were to go now…”

  Instantly, the men around him began to mumble. Some agreed, while others thought the right thing to do was for Hans to go after the princess. As their voices began to increase in volume, the townsfolk took notice and began to nervously shift on their feet. Soon Hans could hear them murmuring words of doubt over his leaving.

  Hans loved every minute of it.

  “That’s enough!” Hans shouted, silencing the men. “I realize that leaving now is not the best of options. But I have no choice. I must go after my fiancée and return her to her people. And I expect all of you, in my absence, to stay strong. Do not mistake this decision as a sign of weakness on my part. See it for what it is, the act of a man in love with both the princess and this kingdom. I must get to the stables and be on my way—immediately.”

  Hans was turning to go when he heard the Duke’s little voice. Up until then, the Duke had been silent, watching Hans and the other dignitaries closely but not adding to the debate. Now he stepped forward. “I volunteer two men, my lord!” he said.

  As the Duke ushered his two men forward, Hans sized them up. They looked like thugs, with deep-set eyes and frowns on their lined faces. Hans carefully noted that each of them rested a hand on a long, sharp sword.

  Keeping an eye on the Duke’s obvious spies was hardly a distraction Hans needed at the moment. But he couldn’t say no to the Duke’s offer without raising suspicion. With a nod, Hans welcomed the men to his group.

  Telling the others he would meet them at the stables, Hans made his way over to the Blavenian dignitary. He was the only one Hans completely trusted, and Hans was going to need his help. Pulling him aside, Hans made sure no one was listening. Then, lowering his voice, he whispered into the man’s ear. “Keep an eye on the Duke,” he said. “I don’t trust him. I think he is trying to undermine me. If he does anything, you will let me know as soon as I return, yes?”

  “Of course, Prince Hans,” the man replied.

  “Good,” Hans said back. “Because I have enough problems to deal with without adding a weasel to the mix.”

  WHILE SHE WASN’T quite willing to admit it out loud, Anna was happy to have Kristoff and Sven for company. For one thing, the woods were kind of scary, and for another, she honestly didn’t know where she was going. Having Kristoff as a guide was turning out to be rather helpful. And Sven was doing a good job taking the scary out of the forest. He reminds me of a puppy, she thought as she watched the reindeer prance through a particularly high snowdrift.

  Since leaving the gorge, Anna and Kristoff had kept up a steady pace despite the deep snow, dark skies, and icy temperatures. But now the sky was turning from dark blue to soft yellow as the sun began to rise over the horizon.

  “How long have you had Sven?” Anna asked, catching Kristoff watching his reindeer play. She hadn’t failed to notice the intense bond between the two or the way Kristoff’s expression softened every time he looked at the reindeer.

  “We’ve been together since he was a calf,” Kristoff said. “Well, since we were both calves, really. I was just a kid when we found each other.”

  Anna smiled. “It must have been nice to have someone to count on, even if he’s just a reindeer,” she said. Sven looked up and grunted at her. “I’m sorry, Sven. You’re a wonderful reindeer.”

  Looking pleased, Sven went back to chasing shadows thrown by the trees around them.

  “Yeah, I don’t know what I would have done without him. Most times, it was just the two of us.” Kristoff paused and looked over at Anna. “I’m sure you don’t know what that’s like, what with living in the castle and all.”

  Anna didn’t respond right away. Images of sitting in front of Elsa’s door, hoping it would open and Elsa would be her friend again, flashed through her mind. “I would have loved to have a friend like Sven,” she finally said. “I wasn’t exactly surrounded by people growing up.”

  “What about your sister?” Kristoff asked.

  Anna shook her head. “She isn’t quite the warm and fuzzy type, if you couldn’t tell,” she said, gesturing at the winter wonderland around them. “But you know, having a lot of me time wasn’t such a bad thing.” When she saw Kristoff’s skeptical look she added, “No, seriously. Like, I’m really good at playing solitaire. Really, really good. And I’m a mean knitter. I can make a scarf in less than a day. Well, usually. Sometimes the yarn gives me trouble. It gets all tangled together and then when I give it a yank…” She stopped speaking when she realized Kristoff was laughing. “What?” she asked.

  “Nothing,” he said, still chuckling. “It’s just…well, has anyone ever told you that you have a tendency to ramble?”

  Anna shrugged. “Not until now,” she said. “I to
ld you, not a whole lot of people for me to talk to growing up. Guess I’m making up for lost time.”

  “Well, don’t let me stop you,” Kristoff said, gesturing for her to continue. “Tell me more about what a young princess does growing up in a castle without too many friends.”

  “Only if you really want to hear it,” she replied.

  “I’m on pins and needles,” he said.

  Anna let out a laugh. She hadn’t realized how funny Kristoff could be. She also hadn’t realized he had a dimple in his right cheek when he smiled. Looking away from the ice harvester, Anna went on.

  “I read—a lot. Which can be super fun if you have the right book. It wasn’t entirely terrible. So I didn’t get to play games with Elsa or share secrets or any of that sister stuff. Who needs that, anyway…?” As her voice trailed off, Anna realized this whole time she had been trying to convince herself more than Kristoff. The smile faded from her face and she felt tears well up in her eyes. She turned away, hoping Kristoff wouldn’t notice.

  But he had. “Yeah, that sister stuff isn’t all it’s cracked up to be,” he said gently. “I don’t have a sister, either, and I think you and I are both doing just fine.”

  Anna smiled. It was sweet of Kristoff to try to make her feel better.

  For a moment, they were both silent. Kristoff kicked at a ball-shaped piece of ice while Anna fiddled with the streak of white in her hair. She didn’t know what to say. She wasn’t used to opening herself up to someone this much. It felt nice, and she realized with a jolt that it felt nice because she was sharing it with Kristoff. The ice harvester might have teased her earlier, but he seemed to understand what it was like not to have the most normal of upbringings.

  “You don’t have any sisters?” Anna finally asked.