But, he thought now as he peered around at the men looking to him for definitive action, sometimes exceptions had to be made. A declaration of treason and an execution, while a bold course of action, seemed to be the move he had to make. Besides, Hans reasoned, how else are we going to stop this winter if not by putting an end to its source?
No. It was clear he had no choice. There was no other way for Hans to get what he wanted. When the time came, he would do what had to be done.
Turning a corner, Hans saw the two guards he had posted outside Elsa’s cell. He had picked the strongest of the castle guards and equipped them with sharp swords and, more importantly, fire. Large torches stood in metal holders on either side of the guards. It seemed to him that the only thing an ice queen might fear was heat. While not a tested theory, Hans had figured it wouldn’t hurt. Hearing Hans’s approach, the guards came to attention and bowed. “Your Highness,” they said in unison.
“Men,” Hans acknowledged. “How’s our prisoner doing?”
The larger of the two guards stepped forward. “She has been crying, sir,” he reported. “And she was pulling at her chains, but that stopped a short while ago.”
Looking over his shoulder at the men who had joined him, he saw a few disturbed looks at the news that Elsa had been chained. “It was for her own protection,” he explained. “And yours. You were not with me on the North Mountain. I cannot stress enough how powerful and—”
As if on cue, the floor beneath their feet shuddered violently. Thrown off-balance, Hans reached out and clung to the wall beside him, trying to steady himself. There was another shudder, this time followed by a loud groaning noise. Then, through the small window in the cell door, wind began to blow, carrying snowflakes into the hall.
Instantly, the guards grabbed their weapons. Shouting to the others to stay back, Hans moved in right behind them. He needed to get in that cell before the others had a chance to see what had happened. He had a feeling it was going to be nothing good.
“She’s dangerous,” one of the guards said, pausing with his hand on the doorknob. “Move quickly and with resolve.”
Oh, good god, man, Hans fumed silently. As if I need to be told that. I know exactly what Elsa is capable of when angry.
Pushing open the door, the guards stepped inside. Hans followed hesitantly. Instantly, he wished he hadn’t. Where there had once been a solid wall of stone, now nothing remained but a few broken rocks. The whole wall was gone—as though blasted from the inside out. Snow had already begun to cover the floor, but where it hadn’t, Hans saw that the tiles had been frozen solid. In the middle of the room, shattered to pieces, was all that remained of the manacles Hans had placed on Elsa’s hands.
Hans’s vision went red as fury flooded through him. She had escaped. Despite his guards and despite her shackles, the queen had gotten away. Now she was out there somewhere, ready to do who knew what to the kingdom and—Hans gulped—him.
Walking over to the edge of the room, Hans looked out into the blinding snow. Almost nothing was visible through the storm, which seemed to be growing stronger by the second. Soon any tracks Elsa might have left would be swallowed up.
Hans shivered—both with cold and anger. Elsa had ruined everything. He had just been about to tie his plan up in a neat and tidy bow and then she had gone and messed it all up. Now he was going to have to go after her or risk looking weak, and then he was going to have to kill her. She had given him no choice. Despite his best efforts to keep the blood off his hands, he saw no alternative. It was her or him. And he hadn’t gone through the past few days to not come out the winner. He was going to kill her, put an end to winter, and get himself on that throne.
WITH THE LAST of her strength, Anna rubbed her hands up and down her arms, hoping the motion would make her feel warmer. It didn’t. The energy required was too much, and her hands were basically just bricks of ice at that point anyway. As her body was racked with another spasm of shivers, Anna let out a pained cry. The spasms were coming harder and faster now.
Anna knew it was futile to think about the future. It was only a matter of time now before her body, like the room around her, froze over completely. After Hans’s sudden revelation and subsequent departure, anger had fueled a small fire in Anna’s belly. Fantasies of finding the slimy beast and calling him out in front of everybody warmed her heart.
And then there had been the fantasy where Elsa returned to Arendelle to avenge her sister’s death. In a billow of snow and ice, she came down from the North Mountain and found Hans, shivering and quivering in the corner of the courtyard. His hands would be held up in front of his face, tears falling down his cheeks and snot pouring from his nose as he realized just how much trouble he was in. Elsa would stare down at him, no sympathy on her beautiful face. “You are a sad, sad excuse for a man, Hans,” she would say. “Do you honestly think you are special? That Anna didn’t see through your act? My sister was amazing. She was wonderful and kind and I loved her. I loved her so much. And you destroyed her. So now I’m going to destroy you.”
Her favorite fantasy, though, was far less vengeful. In that one, Anna made it out of the room and found her way back to the North Mountain. There, she found Elsa waiting, arms outstretched. “I’ve missed you so much,” her sister would say, pulling her close. They would stay that way for a long, long time, and when they finally drew apart, Elsa would vow to return. “Together,” she would say. “We will save Arendelle together.” Then Elsa would end the winter, and the sisters would open the door to the rest of their lives—together.
Overcome by the sudden emotion, Anna closed her eyes. Her breath slowed. She just needed to sleep for a few minutes. Then she would feel better. “Just for a minute,” she said softly. “Just need to rest my eyes…”
Above her, the door handle jiggled.
Anna’s eyes flew open. Had she imagined it?
The door jiggled again. No! This was real! “Help,” she said, her voice barely a whisper.
The handle jiggled one last time and then—with a loud groan—the door swung open. From her prone position on the floor, the first thing Anna saw was a carrot sticking out of the lock. A moment later, Olaf, minus his nose, wobbled into view. Seeing Anna, the little snowman let out a cry.
“Anna!” he said happily, grabbing his nose and shoving it back in place. Then he saw the state she was in. “Oh, no!”
Anna tried to smile, but a fresh wave of shivering made it impossible. She could only watch helplessly as Olaf tried to figure out what to do. She had no idea how he had gotten inside the castle, but she didn’t care. Just seeing him made her feel better. Unfortunately, it didn’t make her feel any warmer.
But Olaf was on it. Spotting the fireplace, the snowman wobbled over as fast as his little snow legs would let him and began to put fresh wood in the hearth. When there was a rather significant pile in place, Olaf grabbed a match, lit it, and then tossed it into the kindling underneath. Instantly, the fire roared to life.
Even from her spot by the door, Anna could feel the first fingers of heat flickering across her face. It felt better than eating chocolate fondue or dancing in her slippers. It felt better than the first time she had jumped Kjekk over a fence or when she had seen her first shooting star.
Unfortunately, Olaf seemed to think the fire was pretty amazing, too, and was standing directly in front of it. “Whoa!” he said, watching the flames flickering higher and higher. “So this is heat….I love it!”
Anna watched in horror as the snowman reached for the fire—with his twig finger. “Oooh! But don’t touch it!” he added, as his finger caught on fire. Laughing, he shook out the flame and then focused his attention back on Anna. “So, where’s Hans?” he asked, wobbling over and helping Anna to her feet. “What happened to your kiss?”
“I was wrong about him,” Anna said sadly. “It wasn’t true love.” Gingerly, she lowered herself down on the couch. Letting out a sigh, she closed her eyes and let the fire warm her. But even with the
flames roaring, she still felt chilled to the bone.
“But…we ran all the way here!”
Anna’s eyes opened, and she looked down at the little snowman. He had not left her side and was now staring at her with big, confused eyes. Anna sighed. He was right. Olaf, Kristoff, and Sven had raced her back to the castle. The three had done everything in their power to get her safely home to Hans. But it had been for nothing.
“Please, Olaf,” Anna pleaded, gently maneuvering the snowman away from the fire. “You can’t stay here; you’ll melt.”
Olaf crossed his stick arms and shook his head. “I am not leaving here until we find some other act of true love to save you,” he said stubbornly. He did, however, move away from the heat slightly. Taking a seat on the ground behind her, he put a twig finger to his mouth, thinking. “Do you happen to have any ideas?” he asked after a minute.
Anna didn’t respond right away. All this time, she thought she had known what love was. She had been sure she knew better than Bulda back in Troll Valley. She had been convinced what she felt for Hans the moment she first saw him was true love. She had even laughed when Kristoff had questioned her ability to recognize love, choosing instead to believe her foolish heart. Yet as it turned out, she really hadn’t had a clue. Looking over at the sweet snowman, she couldn’t even pretend anymore. What was the point? “I don’t even know what love is,” she said to Olaf.
“That’s okay. I do,” Olaf said, standing up and putting a hand on her shoulder. “Love is…” he began, oddly confident. “Love is putting someone else’s needs before yours, like, you know, how Kristoff brought you back here to Hans and left you forever.”
Anna raised an eyebrow. “Kristoff loves me?” she asked, bewildered.
“Wow,” Olaf said. “You really don’t know anything about love, do you?” As he had been talking, Olaf had once again moved closer to the fire. Now he was practically right on top of it, and the heat from the flames had begun to melt his face.
“Olaf!” Anna cried, watching in horror as his eyes began to sink toward his mouth. “You’re melting!”
“Some people are worth melting for,” the snowman said. He tried to smile at Anna, but his mouth had begun to drip and so it came out crooked. Realizing what was happening, he panicked and moved away from the fire. “Just maybe not right this second,” he added.
As Olaf began to push his face back into place, Anna stared at him, her mind racing and her heart pounding. Olaf was a genius. This, she realized, watching the snowman struggle, was love. Olaf had been willing to put himself in danger because he didn’t want to see her get hurt. Love wasn’t the canned romantic declarations. That was nothing but fluff. That was what Hans had thrown at her and what she had mistaken for love. Pure, true love was what Olaf was showing her right now—sacrifice. And, she realized, that was exactly what Kristoff had been showing her all along. She had just been too blind to see it.
Love was telling someone the truth even when they didn’t want to hear it, like Kristoff had done when he pointed out that she didn’t know Hans as well as she thought she did. It was putting others before yourself, like Olaf had just done, or like she had done when she went up the North Mountain to find Elsa. It was Kristoff racing back to the castle because he thought that what Anna needed was Hans. When, all along, she just needed Kristoff!
Kristoff loves me! The thought burst inside her like a volcano. She smiled, warmth flooding her body and filling up her heart. How had she not seen it? Kristoff, she thought again. Kristoff loves me. And I…
Just then, a gust of wind blew open one of the windows. Instantly, the flames began to flicker, and the small bit of warmth Anna had felt returning to her fingers and toes vanished.
“Don’t worry, I’ve got it!” Olaf shouted, weaving and wobbling his way over to the window. He managed to pull one panel shut, but when he tried to close the second one, it wouldn’t budge. “We’re going to get through…”
The snowman’s voice trailed off, and Anna craned her neck to see what had gotten his attention. All she could make out was snow. Breaking off an icicle hanging from the window, Olaf held it up to his eye. Then he gave a shout. “It’s Kristoff! And Sven! They’re coming back this way!”
“They…they are?” Anna asked. She was shaking even harder now, but she wasn’t sure if it was the cold or the fact that Kristoff was coming back. To her! At least she hoped that was why he was coming back.
Olaf nodded. “He’s really moving fast. I guess I was wrong,” he said over his shoulder. “I guess Kristoff doesn’t love you enough to leave you behind.”
But she knew that wasn’t true. Kristoff loved her enough to risk coming back even if it meant facing Hans or being rejected by her. She struggled, trying to get to her feet. “Help me up, Olaf,” she said when she couldn’t do it on her own. “Please.”
“No, no, no, no, no!” Olaf said, wobbling back over and pushing her down on the couch. “You need to stay by the fire and keep warm.”
She shook her head. “I need to get to Kristoff.”
“Why?” Olaf asked, unaware of the impact his words had had on Anna.
She smiled and shrugged sheepishly.
Olaf’s eyes lit up and he clasped his hands together. “Oh! I know why!” he cried happily. He began to hop around the room excitedly. Then he pointed out the window. “There’s your act of true love! Right there! Riding across the fjords like a valiant, pungent reindeer king!”
Anna looked over at Olaf and smiled. She hoped the little snowman was right and that Kristoff’s kiss would be the one to save her. But she wouldn’t know that until she got to him. Which I need to do—she shivered again, more violently this time—before it’s too late.
THERE WAS NO denying it—the weather, which he hadn’t thought could get worse—was definitely getting much, much worse. If the increasing winds and blinding snow were any indication, Elsa was running scared. Hans knew enough about her strange powers to know they were tied to her emotions, and ever since she had broken free of her cell, her emotions had been in overdrive.
And I had to go and make a big show of going after her, Hans thought as he ducked his head against another blast of arctic air. And so here I am, out in this godforsaken storm, blind and freezing and with no clue where I’m going.
Hans let out a groan. This was not what he had envisioned happening when he led the men to Elsa’s cell. His plan had been so simple, and with Anna taken care of, it had been far less complicated as well. Now he didn’t know what he was doing or what he would do when, or if, he found Elsa.
Stopping to catch his breath, Hans tried to get a sense of his surroundings. It wasn’t easy. The whiteout conditions made everything look the same. The ground right in front of him was no easier to discern than the mountain he knew loomed miles in the distance. Through the howling wind he could hear the occasional groan of wood being pressed by ice, so he knew that he hadn’t made it past the harbor. Occasionally, when the wind relented slightly, Hans could even see small patches of blue in the sky above.
Suddenly, he saw the faintest of shadows flash a short distance ahead. The shadow flitted in and out among the snow, but as the day grew brighter, the shadow began to take on a clearer form. To Hans’s delight, he saw that it was Elsa. Opening his mouth to let out a shout of victory, he quickly clamped it shut. It would do no good to give away his presence. Not yet, at least.
As quietly as possible, which luckily wasn’t hard on the soft, snow-covered ground, Hans began to close the distance between him and Elsa. When he was only a few feet away, he slowed his pace. Observing the queen, he saw that she was struggling as much as he was against the weather. The flight from the cell must have exhausted her, and she no longer seemed as in control of the storm as she had been before. That was just what Hans wanted to see. In her weakened state, Elsa would be far easier to kill.
“Elsa!” he shouted, pleased when he saw her startle. “You can’t run from this!” Taking a few steps forward, he stepped right in f
ront of the queen.
Seeing Hans, Elsa stepped back nervously. “Just take care of my sister,” she begged as another gust of wind violently whipped the bottom of her dress around her ankles.
Hans bit back a cruel laugh. Did Elsa honestly think she was in any position to ask him for favors? He was the one in control. He alone knew all that had transpired. The queen had no idea. She didn’t know that he had locked Anna in a room and left her to die. She didn’t know that he wasn’t the lovesick prince he had made himself out to be or that he had plotted and planned his way to her throne. He could pretend, for just a few minutes longer, that he cared about Anna. He could use that to bring Elsa down. “Your sister?” he said, trying to sound distraught. “She returned from the mountain weak and cold. She said you froze her heart.”
“What?” Elsa said, shaking her head. “No.”
Hans watched in delight as Elsa’s face crumpled. Love, he thought bitterly. It only serves to make one weak—even one as powerful as Elsa.
As he readied himself to deliver his final blow, Hans put a hand on the hilt of his sword. “I tried to save her, but it was too late,” he said. “Her skin was ice. Her hair turned white…” As he detailed Anna’s physical deterioration, Elsa sunk to her knees. Each word seemed to stab at her more painfully than the sword he held at his side ever could. “Your sister is dead,” Hans finished. “Because of you.”
As the words left his mouth, Elsa let out a moan and dropped her head into her hands. Watching her, Hans felt a surge of pride. Once again, he had taken a situation that seemed out of his control and molded it until he came out the victor.
I honestly couldn’t have made that turn out any better. Unless, of course, I figured out a way to make the snow…
A Frozen Heart Page 20