Frozen

A Melody from the Past

Chapter 6: The Girl Who Could Fly

With one last roar and one final impact, the beam holding the throne room door finally snapped. The bronze doors flew open, the thunderous slam of them hitting the walls echoing alongside the sound of the Captain's boots on the stone. His narrowed eyes drifted from one end of the room to the other and his hand gripped his sword so tight that he could feel his knuckles popping as he adjusted his hold. A glimmer of dark light caught his attention, but only for a moment; it was quickly snatched again by the sound of sobbing and urgent whispers.

"Please wake up...please, please, please, Anna," the Captain stormed through the ice and snow to find the source of the cries. The old man's harsh gaze softened, his mouth falling open when he finally arrived at the scene.

Elsa was on her knees, hunched over her sister's fallen form. The air around them was filled with snowflakes that simply hung in the air, as though the wind itself refused to intrude on the Queen's despair. A spiral of ice had sprung from the ground around them, its razor sharp edges a warning to anyone who might approach them. As he got a better look at the two, the Captain's hand slid away from his sword to his chest.

Anna was unmoving, her skin reddening from the cold, her lips a pale shade of blue. As he drew closer, the Captain craned his neck to get a better look at the fallen princess. Grunting as he bumped into one of the icicles protecting the pair, he cleared his throat.

"Elsa-" the word escaped his lips as little more than a cracked whisper. Clearing his throat louder, he spoke up once more, "Your Majesty."

The Queen went abruptly silent; the throne room fell into a similar stillness. Furrowing his brow, his gaze drifting from Elsa to Anna's unmoving form, the Captain cleared his throat one final time.

"Your Majesty, permission to approach?" the unfamiliar formality in the Captain's tone hung heavy in the air. When Elsa made no further movement, the Captain began to reach for his sword. However strong the Queen's magic may be, not even the cold of Niflheim could stay his hand, or keep him away from his charges.

Before the Captain could take further action, the icy spiral retracted back into the ground and the snow that had been hanging in the air around him began to drift to the floor. The final nail in the stillness was the sound of his niece sobbing. He rushed over to the pair, sliding to his knees as he reached Anna's side. He reached out, his fingers trembling slightly as his hand settled on the Queen's shoulder.

"Elsa, are you alright? Your Majesty?" keeping his voice low, Captain Haile threw a brief look toward the entrance, then turned to face his Queen. His bushy beard hid his frown when he finally managed to look the young woman in the eyes, their blue a darker shade than he recalled.

"Please, help her...I tried to stop the bleeding, but I...I'm just...I'm fr...freezing h-" Another sob interrupted the Queen's explanation as she collapsed once more against her sister.

Captain Haile gave her shoulder a light tug, motioning with a tilt of his head for her to sit back. Finally able to get a good look at his new protege, the corner of his mouth flicked downward, his nose scrunching. Whatever had struck Anna had done so with incredible force. Peeling back the cotton of her shirt, pausing and shushing Elsa when the Queen began to protest, the Captain took a closer look at her wounds.

"You need to bring the temperature back up, Your Majesty," he said. Nodding, his mouth a firm line, the Captain tore off part of his own training shirt and glanced back at his Queen, "And you need to unfreeze the wound. I'll get the bleeding under control, and we've got Lamont on the way to look over the pair of you…" the Captain's words trailed off as Elsa's shifting posture finally allowed him a clear look at her.

Though she was trembling, her eyelids heavy and her breaths coming in ragged gasps, at first she'd seemed none the worse for wear save for a nasty cut across her cheek. However, at this angle, the Captain could see her left arm hanging at her side, her right hand reaching up to grip the black arrow embedded in her shoulder. The Queen jumped when a heavy hand suddenly gripped hers and pulled it back.

"Don't try to take it out, you'll only make it worse. Leave that to Lamont and Espen...can you move your arm?"

Elsa closed her eyes, a tremble running through her as her lips pulled back in a grimace. Her left arm twitched, her fingers, wrapped in an unfamiliar navy blue glove, spread and then closed again. Taking a deep breath and slowly letting it out, she managed to raise her left arm, but only a few inches before it fell limp at her side again.

"It...h-hurts t-too m...much," her words were becoming slurred as she began to waver. The Queen swallowed and slid forward, caressing Anna's face. She bit her lip as fresh tears began to roll down her cheeks, "I c-could...c-couldn't s-sav…"

The Captain wrapped an arm around her shoulder, pulling her into a warm embrace. He kissed her head and shushed her.

"She's fine, she'll be fine. I just need you to get this room back to normal. Can you do that for me?"

It took a moment for Elsa to respond, but eventually she nodded and held out her bare right hand. The wind whipped into a swirl around them, the piles of snow and pillars of ice melting into a storm of glitter and sparkles, all gathering in the palm of the Queen's hand. Elsa tightened her hand into a fist, causing the remnants of her frigid outburst to collapse into a shimmering sphere of cold wind. Then, opening her palm, she released it, the magic disappearing into the ether, the room returning to its normal temperature.

Captain Haile nodded, giving her another kiss as he focused his attention on Anna's re-opened chest wound.

"You'll be fine, Your Majesty. So will she, you'll see." The Captain looked up as he heard footsteps approaching, "It's about time! Get your arses in here!"

His bellow echoed off the walls, the sound quickly drowned by rapid falling footsteps as a slew of newcomers rushed into the throne room.

"I need Lamont or Espen now!" Again the Captain's bellow drowned out the din of activity. A lanky young man in a dressing gown, a satchel far too big for him hanging on his shoulder, shoved his way through the crowd and hurried toward the fallen monarch and her sister.

"Oh my, oh my, oh my, that's qu-qu-qu-quite an amount of blood," Espen's voice trembled as he fumbled toward the fallen princess. "Three...long, deep...lots of b-b-blood, dear me, dear me…" his stumbling words offset the precision his fingers employed as they set to work cleaning and treating Anna's wounds. Every so often, his nervous eyes would flick toward the Queen.

"D-d-d-do we know wh-wh-what cau-cau-caused all this co-commotion?" Espen pursed his lips into a thin line when his question went unanswered.

"Still working that out, keep your mind on your work, Espen," Nodding to himself and giving Espen a pat on the back, the Captain turned to Elsa and began to rise to his feet, "Come on, Your Majesty. We'll give Espen room to work and we'll get you fixed up. Come, I won't take no for an answer," The Captain helped Elsa to her feet, keeping an arm around her shoulders to keep her steady as they made their way toward the guards gathering. Captain Haile frowned, an arm snaking around Elsa's waist to keep her steady when her knees gave out.

"At ease, don't crowd her!" The Captain gently lowered Elsa back to the ground, eyes drawn to her hand reaching up to grip the arrow once again, "Let one of the experts take it out, you'll just hurt yourself." His voice raising once more, he turned to the others, "Seven Hells, where is Lamont?" Captain Haile's eyes flicked back toward the Queen when he felt her flinch in his embrace. She hadn't blinked in some time, and he could feel her tremors getting worse with every breath she took. Sighing, he lowered his voice and leaned his head against hers, "It's alright, you're safe now...just try to breathe, alright?"

"Captain Haile! We found something you might want to see, sir!" One of the guards called, hunched over the source of dark light the Captain had ignored earlier.

"Bring it here, Roland," refusing to separate from his niece before the head physician arrived, the Captain kept his attention on Elsa, rubbing her shoulder as he held her close. He flinched when an unfamiliar voice cried out.

"Don't touch that!" The raspy old shout was followed by the resounding snap of wood colliding with metal and Roland cursing.

"Tyr's Hand, watch where you're swinging that cane, old man!"

Captain Haile narrowed his eyes, keeping his wary gaze focused on the newcomer. It was the scholar, Sapphire or something, who had been visiting the castle the last couple days. The old man spent all of his time in the library, so the Captain had only been briefly introduced to him. He'd seemed like a nice enough fellow, but as he shoved one of the Captain's men aside, there was a liveliness to him that unsettled the Captain.

"You fool, do you have any idea what you could have done?! Do you have a family? A wife? Children? If you'd so much as laid a finger on this artifact...you can't even imagine the horror you'd have unleashed," Safiya finally succeeded in getting the guards to back away from the object, swinging his cane as if he were attempting some kind of spell. Breathing a tired sigh, the old man crouched down, using the tip of his cane to push the object around, "Sun, moon, and stars...I never imagined one would be here…"

Before anyone could question the scholar further, a much-welcomed figure hurried into the throne room. Panting, Lamont paused for a second to catch his breath.

"My apologies for my lateness, I was - Allfather's mercy! Your Majesty!" The head physician hurried to the fallen Queen's side, his fatigue forgotten and his attention zeroed in on the arrow embedded in her shoulder. With gentle hands, he lifted Elsa's chin, turning her face as he tried to look her in the eye. He frowned and sighed, "Poor thing...that damned arrow's poison, no doubt. Let me have a look. Come on now, there's not much time."

While Lamont fussed over her shoulder and Captain Haile fussed over Lamont, Elsa's gaze drifted through the people surrounding her. She watched the scholar fiddle around with the object on the ground, pausing every so often to chase away anyone who got close. Elsa's stomach churned and a tremor - one powerful enough to force her to double over - radiated from her chest. As she pushed herself up off the ground, she stared at her left hand, at the quickly conjured glove into which she'd forced it. Another tremor hit her, this one causing her head to throb and her vision to blur, becoming a mix of black and white.

"What...what di-did you fi-find, Scholar Safiya?" her voice surprised everyone. Elsa clenched her eyes shut, waiting for the room to stop spinning before she dared open them again. Though, as she kept them closed, she found herself being drawn into sleep's sweet embrace. Another tremor forced her eyes open and her legs to move. With some help from whoever was holding her hand, Elsa shuffled through the line cleared for her, until she reached where the scholar was hunched over.

She slid to her knees, breathing in ragged breaths as she stared at the object. It was a small, sharp piece of rock or gemstone, its black surface somehow shifting between transparent and opaque. She couldn't quite look directly at it, as her eyes unfocused and blurred the longer she peered into the deep, dark light - light that resembled thin fingers of sunlight just barely visible from the bottom of the ocean - that radiated from within the stone.

Another tremor hit her, causing her to double over once again, clutching her chest.

"Your Majesty...Queen Elsa," The scholar's voice was softer now, just loud enough to pierce the stillness that had filled the young Queen's thoughts, "This is an artifact of immense, malicious power. You must seal it away. Use your magic."

"She's in no condition to be using her magic, Scholar. Give her time to recover," a rough voice at her side - her uncle, she realized - spoke up. Another, much softer - the royal physician - chimed in to agree.

"She's in shock, she needs immediate medical treatment. If I don't…"

Elsa sat up, reaching out with her bare right hand. A swirl of snowflakes and arctic wind rose up from the ground, surrounding the black stone. Her fingers trembled as the magic began to solidify, until it became a crudely conjured ice sphere, the light blue texture quickly darkening as it was exposed to the dark light within. Despite its fragile appearance, the ice kept the light within contained, even after it fell to the floor.

The sound of the orb colliding with the stone was muffled by the sound of its creator's body hitting the floor first. The scholar turned his worried gaze away from the Queen, his fingers trembling as he leaned down and plucked the sphere from the ground. While the others began to treat the Queen's wounds, the scholar's brow furrowed.

He was right to come to Arendelle.

XXXX

"Sofia!"

A little girl groaned and rubbed her eyes, sticking her tongue out as she brushed the powdery snow from her face. That afternoon's snowfall was much gentler than anyone had expected, making it the perfect time to sneak away from her chores, lie back, and watch the cloud-covered sky. Sitting up, the girl coughed and brushed away the snow that had been piling up on her. It had been too perfect an afternoon; the chilly wind and peaceful silence the snow brought must have lulled her into a nap.

"Sofia, where are you? Come on, you're gonna get me in trouble!"

The little girl grinned, slipping to her feet and shuffling to the edge of her perch, peering down at the older boy below. Keeping her eyes locked on her prey, her hands fumbled around at her feet, packing in a handful of snow until it was the size of an apple. Pulling her scarf tighter around her mouth to muffle her own giggles, she crept across her hiding spot, inching closer and closer to where the boy was searching.

Drawing her hand back, she gave a loud whistle and called out at him:

"Olle! Head's up!" The boy's head whipped toward the sound of the voice, just in time for the snowball to slap him right on the nose. Sputtering and cursing, he brushed the snow from his face, glaring up at his attacker.

The little girl was sitting on the edge of the roof, two stories off the ground, her legs dangling off the edge as she continued laughing at her brother's frustration.

"Cute, thanks, Sister. What did Mom say about climbing on things?" Olle shivered and crossed his arms, turning and marching back in the direction he'd come from, "Whatever, just get down already, Dad's looking for you." He paused and rolled his eyes when he heard a thump behind him. He cursed again when his sister charged passed him, elbowing him in the side, "Argh! Why are you such a pain in my ass?"

"Papa says that's what little sisters are supposed to be!" Without waiting for his response, she giggled again and hurried off toward home. Her smile grew when she caught sight of her father, his looming frame wrapped in a fur cloak that she'd borrowed on more than one occasion for her cloud gazing, talking to Sir Colin, the town's head guard. "Volunteer Guard," Sofia mumbled in a tone mimicking her father's voice, her grin full to bursting as she tackled him from behind.

The seven-year-old squealed as she found herself suddenly snatched from the ground and flipped into the air before landing safely in a strong embrace that she'd been missing for weeks now.

"Papa! You're finally home!"

"I am...have you been up to no good while I was away?" Though he spoke in a stern voice, Sofia couldn't miss the way the corner of his eyes crinkled as he fought to hide his smile. He finally allowed himself to laugh when his daughter threw her arms back, proudly exclaiming:

"You know it!" She squealed again when he leaned in, giving her a rough kiss, his unkempt stubble tickling her cheek, before lifting her to his shoulders. She was all too eager to reclaim her favorite perch.

"Sounds like a good time. You'll have to tell me more about it later," A quickly forgotten figure cleared his throat, interrupting the reunion.

"Vincent, remember what we discussed. I need an answer, the sooner, the better," Sir Colin, his expression stern and unfriendly, threw a glance at Sofia. He forced a smile to his face and offered her a curt nod before returning his glare to her father.

Vincent gave a mirthless chuckle, clicking his tongue as he lowered his head.

"I'll think about it, that's all I'll say for now," his tone left no more room for discussion. Flashing him a final warning glance, Sir Colin said his goodbyes and took his leave. Sofia watched him go, waiting with bated breath for someone to say anything to break the silence. Her wish was granted when her father gave a big sigh.

"Sorry about that, Little Bird. Part of being a grown-up is putting up with boring chats like that one." Vincent glanced to his side as Olle came around the corner. He gave his son a pat on the shoulder, "Thanks for finding her, Son. We'll be back in a bit, take care of your mother for me."

"I will. Don't keep her out too late, she needs a bath tonight," Olle grinned and gave Sofia's leg a tug as she stuck her tongue out and tried to kick him. Chuckling, he slid inside, breathing a sigh as he stepped into the hearth's gentle warmth.

Once the door was shut, Vincent tilted his head back, meeting his daughter's curious gaze.

"I bet you're wondering what we're going to do tonight, huh?" He chuckled when she nodded eagerly, "It's a nice afternoon, should be a reasonable evening," Vincent could feel his daughter's excitement growing as she kicked her legs a bit more forcefully with each moment he went without revealing their plans. He turned toward the house, gesturing toward what was leaning up against the wall.

Sofia squealed and flung herself from her father's shoulders, pausing and staring wide-eyed at the pair of bows leaning against the side of the house. One she immediately recognized as her father's. It was big, bigger than she was, and had been his tool of choice for her entire life. The second one, though, was smaller and carefully crafted to look near identical to its much larger counterpart. Fingers trembling, she glanced back at her father, her mouth falling open when he nodded.

She picked up the bow, her hands still shaking. Then, carefully she held it out as she'd seen her father do a thousand times before. Her hazel eyes narrowed as she imagined herself pulling an arrow back. It felt perfect, more perfect than she'd dreamed.

"Someone has to teach you to hunt, Little Bird, why shouldn't it be me?" Vincent grinned as he squatted down beside his daughter, roughly tousling her already messy black hair. He was caught off guard when his little girl tackled him with another hug. His grin becoming a softer smile, he returned the embrace and kissed her head.

Sofia could hear his voice get softer, becoming serious as he repeated to himself, "Why shouldn't it be me?" She peered up at her father, his gaze staring off into the distance, to where the Sir Colin had retreated.

"Papa?" Her voice, soft, but with just enough whine to get his attention, snapped him out of his daze. Vincent snapped his fingers, motioning for Sofia to hold still.

"One last thing…" Working with a tenderness and precision that belied a man of his gruff exterior, Vincent bit his tongue as he finished up his work. He motioned toward the window, "Take a look."

Sofia peered into her reflection, gasping and grinning. She gently touched the braid now dangling on the right side of her face. It matched her father's perfectly.

XXXX

Why shouldn't it be me?

Hearing commotion coming from the south side of the village, Sofia sat up, coughing and brushing the snow out of her eyes. Slipping to her feet, walking across the pointed roof of the house with absolute confidence, she craned her neck to find the source of the noise: a crowd gathering around a gaudy looking wagon.

Sofia pursed her lips, her curiosity piqued. The recent illness that had swept through the village had kept most people locked in doors, with the few still healthy enough to work doing two, three, sometimes even four times as much work as they had before. She slid down the side of the roof, her knees bending slightly before sending her flying through the air, easily landing on the neighboring roof. If so many people were getting out of bed, or skipping work, it must have been for good reason.

She continued her little journey to the wagon, leaping from rooftop to treetop, back to rooftop, before finally reaching the roof of the general store. She spied her brother amongst the crowd and frowned. Their Mama was sick at home, Olle was supposed to be taking care of her while she was out. Sofia dropped from the rooftop, landing lightly before pushing her way through the crowd toward Olle.

"Hey, what's going on?" The ten-year-old frowned when she heard an overly smooth voice speak up over the crowd.

"I understand your frustrations, my friends, but I simply cannot afford to lower my price any further than I already have. You have to understand, these ingredients are quite perilous to come by."

"This guy's supposed to be some bigshot apothecary from Valoran," Olle explained, slipping an arm around his sister to keep her from being bumped by the adults around them, "Says he has a cure for the sickness."

Sofia perked up, tugging on Olle's arm, her eyes sparkling as she tried to tug him toward the wagon.

"That's great, right? We can help Mama get better!" Her smile began to fade when she saw the way her brother refused to look at her. She winced, feeling his hold on her shoulder getting tighter, "Olle, what's wrong? If he has medicine, that's good, right?"

"We can't afford it, Sofi. No one can, he's asking for more money than the entire village makes in a year," With every word, Sofia's smile became a frown, and then a scowl, until finally she was tearing herself away from her brother's protective grip and forcing her way to the front of the crowd.

"Sir, please, we'll find some way to pay you back. You have to make an exception...we're talking about over half our people!" the Mayor implored, his forehead pressed into the snow as he prostrated himself before the Apothecary, his walking cane discarded on the ground beside him.

The Apothecary pulled his heavy furs tighter around him, turning a warning eye toward one of his two guards before clearing his throat. He tightened his grip on his own walking cane, a masterfully crafted oak staff crowned with a glass sphere.

"My friend, please, pick yourself up. I won't sleep well tonight knowing someone's grandpa hurt themselves for my sake," Sighing and stroking his chin, the Apothecary glanced at his other guard. His gaze briefly fell on the crowd, where he spied a little girl forcing her way to the front of the crowd.

"Then give him the medicine! People are dying! My Mama's dying!" Tearing herself away from the adult trying to quiet her, she marched up to the Apothecary. She stopped when one of his guards, a giant man, his face hidden behind a beard and his bald head barely covered by his fur hat, stepped up to her.

"Back off, kid. If you don't have the coin, you can't have the medicine." The guard backed off, releasing his grip on his sword when the Apothecary stepped forward, patting his arm.

"Relax, friend, it's just a child." Squatting down, he sighed and offered the little girl a sad smile, "I apologize, little girl. My men are quite dedicated to their jobs. As am I." His smile faltered, his nose scrunching when she cut him off.

"Then let us buy the medicine! You could help everyone if you stopped being so greedy!" Sofia shrugged off a hand grabbing at her shoulder. She grunted when she felt a pair of familiar arms wrap around her waist and tug her off the ground. She glared at Olle for a moment before fixing the Apothecary with the nastiest snarl she could muster.

The Apothecary's expression was neutral as he slid back to his feet, brushing off his thick fur coat. He cleared his throat before finally replying in a solemn tone.

"Greedy am I? Child, if you knew the sacrifices that had to be made to create a single flask of this tonic, you'd not be so quick to throw out such accusations," With a flourish, the Apothecary turned and began walking to his cart, "We're leaving, my friends. I can see I'm not wanted here."

As the crowd dissolved into a panic, Sofia watched the Apothecary with narrowed eyes, ignoring her brother's scolding. Her lips twitched as she felt hateful eyes glaring at her back as they left the crowd. She let Olle grab her by the arm and drag her back to their house. She stared at her feet, focusing on the crunch of the snow beneath her shoes. Slowly, her other hand clenched into a fist at her side.

It wasn't until much later that night, after the sky had turned black and the gently falling snow had grown into a fierce snowstorm, that Sofia snuck from her room. Dressed in black, she paused to peek into her mother's room. Her expression softened, listening to her mother cough and wheeze, watching as she tossed and turned, mumbling nonsense. Her fever had only grown worse as the night stretched on. Something had to be done tonight; tomorrow would be too late.

Steeling her nerves, she nodded and slipped away, heading for the front door. As she paused to tug on her boots, her eyes drifted to her bow, resting against the wall and waiting patiently for its owner. Climbing to her feet, she reached for her bow. A hand suddenly snatched her wrist, another reaching around her to muffle her surprised shriek.

"Quiet, Sofi, it's just me," Olle held her for a moment longer to give her time to calm down before finally releasing her. He glanced back over his shoulder, then focused the sternest look he could muster on his little sister, "What were you thinking? Are you seriously planning to steal that medicine?" When she refused to respond, Olle groaned and pinched the bridge of his nose, "Sofi, that bodyguard was ready to fight you in front of a crowd of people. What do you think will happen if you show up in the middle of the night swinging your bow around? Do you think they'll think twice just because you're a little girl?"

Sofia bit the inside of her cheek, fists clenched at her sides and her gaze locked on her bow. She closed her eyes as she felt pressure building in her chest. She kept biting her cheek, anything to keep from letting out the scream she was holding back.

When Olle finally quit scolding her, she spoke up, her voice a ghost of a whisper.

"Then why don't you go?"

Olle was taken back, "What do you mean?" He flinched again when Sofia spun around, tears sparkling in the corners of her eyes.

"Papa is gone and Mama is dying! Someone has to do something, so if you won't let me, then why won't you go, you coward?!" Sofia's lips quivered and one of her tears slipped through her defenses as she turned away from Olle again. Her fists were starting to hurt; she could taste blood as she bit down again.

"Sofi…"

"Do you remember what Papa said before he left?" Without waiting for Olle to answer, Sofia choked back a sob and continued, "He said...someone," Sofia sniffled and rubbed her eyes, once again staring at her bow, "Someone has to take a stand against evil…why shouldn't it be me?" After a moment of silence, she heard footsteps retreating behind her. She lowered her head, her entire body shaking.

The little girl finally let another sob escape, her hand flying to her mouth to keep from disturbing her mother. At first, she refused to turn when she felt a hand on her shoulder. When he persisted, she finally turned, her eyes widening as she watched Olle wrap a dark wool cloak around her, securing it around her neck. He refused to look at her as he adjusted it until it fit perfectly.

"Wait here," without waiting for her answer, he disappeared again. Sofia tugged the cloak tighter around herself. Sniffling, she rubbed her eyes furiously, swallowing the lump forming in her throat. She looked up when Olle returned, kneeling down in front of her once again. He took her chin, "Don't move," to the surprise of both of them, she obeyed, staying still as Olle took black paint, outlining her eyes. Satisfied, he tugged the hood of the cloak up and over her head.

He sighed, offering her the weakest of smiles as he gave her shoulder a pat.

"You're right, I am a coward," He kept going, even when Sofia opened her mouth to apologize, "I'm not like Dad, but, you are. If anyone can pull this off, it's you, Sofi. Just promise me you'll make it home, I can't lose you too, Little Bird."

Biting her lip and blinking her eyes to keep from tearing up again, she nodded, returning his embrace, her arms snaking around his neck.

"I'll come back...and I'll save Mama, I promise." No more words were spoken as the two sat in their embrace for a minute longer. Olle finally sighed and gestured toward the door. Nodding, Sofia snatched her bow and quiver, taking a moment to count her arrows before tugging the door open. Outside the wind was howling as the Snow Queen's wrath ravaged the night. Throwing one last glance at her brother, she stepped outside, leaping from the ground to the roof of their neighbor's home in a single bound.

XXXX

The medicine was a lie.

The rumbling sound of wheels rolling across the stones and sticks she'd put in the road before woke Sofia out of her daze. Groaning and stretching her neck, she carefully rose up onto her toes, peeking out from her perch to the approaching carriage below.

The driver was shivering as he tugged his warm furs around him, cracking the reins and shouting at the horse to pick up the pace. The horse was well-groomed, rich chocolate brown with a healthy mane. Faintly, Sofia could make out the faint metal glitter of its fresh shoes. And, finally, the covered carriage itself was gaudy, but seemed well made: crafted from sturdy wood, painted white, and lined with gold; whether it was real gold or not, Sofia couldn't quite tell.

A small smile tugged at her lips as she pulled her hood up. These types spent all their money on appearances and rarely had the money to afford competent protection.

Reaching to her quiver, her fingers brushing the feathered tips as her lips moved to count their number, she braced herself, tightening her hold on her bow. As the carriage passed below, Sofia shot from the tree, landing atop the carriage, an arrow already nocked and drawn, its deadly point leveled with the back of the driver's head.

"Stop the carriage, drop your money, and get on the ground," her voice startled the driver before he'd even had time to register her landing behind him. Sofia narrowed her eyes as the driver drew the carriage to a halt, "Hands in the air, I'm not asking again."

The driver began to rise from his seat, one hand rising a bit quicker than the other. With a shout, he spun on her, unsheathing a dagger. The moment he caught sight of the attacker, an arrow hit his shoulder, causing him to drop his weapon. Grunting, grabbing at the wound, he peered up, his eyes widening as he came nose to tip with another drawn arrow. Swallowing nervously, trying to hold back his moans of pain, the driver, quickly nodded and scrambled off of the carriage.

"I said drop your money," the girl's voice caused the driver to flinch again. Nodding once more, he quickly emptied his pockets before dropping to his knees, "All the way on the ground." The old man complied, lying on his side to avoid further agitating the arrow in his shoulder.

Finally satisfied, Sofia jumped from the carriage and approached the horse. The animal reared back in fear at first, but a calming shush from the young girl settled his nerves.

"Easy, I'm not here to hurt you. Time to let you go, boy," with a precision honed over years of similar robberies, Sofia was able to quickly untether the horse from the carriage. Giving it a sharp slap on the leg, she sent it fleeing to safety.

"Th-that was my horse…" the driver spoke up with a groan. He cried out, flinching away from the arrow now embedded in the ground inches from where his head had been laying. Taking the hint, he clamped his mouth shut and focused on stemming the bleeding.

Her lip twitching upward slightly, Sofia leaped back on top of the carriage. She gave it two hard stomps then jumped down again, readying another arrow as she turned to the carriage door. After a moment of silence, she loosed the arrow, a pair of screams echoing from within as it smashed through the window.

"The next one won't miss. Get out here." Sofia kept another arrow at the ready, listening to the brief sound of arguing within, then the scrambling of shoes against wood as the door opened and the occupants exited, hands in the air, backs up against their carriage. Her nose scrunched, her lips pulling into a frown when she caught sight of the numerous rings that both husband and wife were wearing. Her eyes drifted to the woman's jewelry, her garish earrings and the gold pendant around her neck. Next they drifted to her husband's poorly fitting suit jacket, an emblem - the house emblem likely - sewed on the lapel in golden thread.

Her grip on her bow tightened, her arm drawing the arrow back a bit further as she let a growl escape her lips.

"All of your valuables, all of your money, on the ground. Now."

The pair hesitated, their eyes sizing up their young attacker. The wife glanced at the husband, biting her lip. He glanced back at her, clearing his throat and loosening his collar.

"She's...she's just a child," the wife's whisper didn't go unheard. Sofia snarled and loosed her arrow, nicking the older woman's ear before piercing the carriage side.

"That's your last warning shot, the next one is going in your eye. All of your money, now!" Sofia's eyes darted back and forth between the pair as they traded another quiet exchange. The young girl's attention suddenly shot to the carriage, her ears perking up hearing sound still coming from within.

Spotting her momentary distraction, the man shouted at the carriage.

"Are you going to help us or not!? What am I paying you for?!" his desperate cry was met with a chuckle and the sound of boots scuffing against wood.

The door slid open again, a lanky man exiting, ducking to fit through the doorway. He dropped from the carriage with a grace that belied his clumsy appearance. He turned to the man, a long smile stretching across his painted black lips.

"My good sir, there is a world of difference between the supporting cast and the star. The star simply must make a dramatic entrance." His voice was like warm honey, spoken with an extravagant accent that Sofia had never heard before. When the woman started to speak up, the man brought a single finger, his fingernails also painted black, to his lips and shushed her, "Shh...my good madam, there's no more need for audience participation."

Sofia kept her arrow trained on this man. She'd faced countless bounty hunters and bodyguards in the past, but none had struck her so profoundly as he. While most bodyguards were big and clumsy, dressed in iron and steel, this man was quite the opposite, tall and lithe, dressed in form-fitting, colorful clothing, black on one side, red on the other, split right down the middle, his only defense against the cold the black scarf wrapped around his neck. His shaggy red hair framed his long face like a mane, his dangerous gray eyes, outlined in black paint that trailed down his cheeks like tears, the only tell that filled the young archer with unease.

She felt a single bead of sweat trickling down the side of her face and quickly re-adjusted her hold on both her bow and her arrow. She couldn't see any weapon on the man, no dagger or sword on his side, but she found her gaze constantly drawn back to the silver gauntlets he was wearing. They were thin, ran halfway up his forearms, and left his fingers unguarded.

The man turned to Sofia at last, his smile somehow growing even wider.

"Here she is...the one I've heard so much about. The Phantom who haunts these woods…" His hand slid to his hip and he laughed, "It's no wonder my compatriots are so terrified of these woods. What swordsman could ever admit having lost to such a little girl. How old are you, dear? Eleven? Twelve?"

Without thinking, Sofia spat back, "I'm thirteen, and I've beaten scarier men than you," Despite the cold, Sofia could feel her cheeks heating up as the man laughed again.

"Ah! So young, and so talented! I am in awe of you, Phantom," the man began to pace, his hips swaying as he sauntered passed his employers, "I must ask-"

"I'm not paying you to interrogate her! Just get rid of her already!" The nobleman gasped and pressed his back up against the carriage when the lanky man's arm shot out, his outstretched finger pressing against his employer's throat, lifting his chin until his eyes were locked on the canopy above.

"Good sir, the audience is not to speak during the performance," the playfulness from before was gone from the man's voice, replaced with such venom that even Sofia felt her skin crawl. The lanky man kept his steel gaze focused on his employer, unblinking, until the older man nodded and made a show of pressing his lips closed. With a smile, the lanky man turned his attention back to the bandit.

"Tell me, little Phantom. Are the rumors true? Can you really fly?" There was a noticeable twinge of excitement in the lanky man's tone. His lips pulled back into a grin, his hand snaking out to catch the arrow that Sofia had fired, the tip stopping a hair's breadth from his left eye.

Sofia's grip on her bow tightened, her fingers fumbling at her quiver for her next arrow.

"How did you do that?" She kicked herself for asking, but the words escaped before she could rein them back in. She felt her cheeks heating up once more when the man laughed again, twirling the arrow between his fingers.

"My line of work requires extraordinary talent, and, where talent is lacking, extraordinary dedication to practice with bloody hands and broken bones until the impossible becomes possible. I must admit...you are the best shot I've ever encountered." The man flung the arrow back at Sofia, his grin growing when she caught it in return, "Were you a lesser marksman, I'd have caught it with my teeth. A perilous trick, that one. Even if you succeed, you'll often find your tongue quite bloodied."

"You're not a bodyguard...who are you?" Despite herself, Sofia refused to nock another arrow. She kept the one the man had returned held tight in her hand, her eyes unblinking as she gazed into his gray eyes. The corner of her lip twitched upward as the man took an extravagant bow, his head nearly touching his knee as he swept his arms outward.

"They call me...the Beast."

XXXX

He called me the Hawk.

The Hawk hunkered down, her entire body trembling as the storm around them raged harder, the howling wind almost drowning out the blood curdling screams of rage from the one they'd come to destroy. She nodded, muttering a thanks to the Bear as he wrapped his massive arms around her to shield her from the cold. Her gaze drifted to the long gash across his left arm, the blood that had been seeping out already frozen. She peered up at his face, but he wasn't looking at her, his gaze was locked on the others. The Hawk turned to the others, grimacing when she caught sight of the Stag.

She'd never seen the old man falter, or even lose his temper. But, face-to-face with the Winter Witch, the demon responsible for the pain and loss he'd suffered, he had lost himself and lashed out in a fury. He was powerful, but the Snow Queen was a Goddess. Her stomach churned as she noticed that the snow around him had turned a deep shade of red, his wound too severe for the cold to freeze it shut just yet.

The Viper noticed her worried glance and spoke up.

"What are we going to do, Beast? We can't get to her, and Stag is…" she refused to continue, biting her lip as the Stag grabbed her hand and gave it a tight squeeze.

"Don't worry about me, Viper...j-just worry about...finishing what we started," He groaned and quickly closed his mouth, biting back bile as his stomach churned. He was getting paler by the minute, his lips turning blue. Coughing, he glared up at the sky, trying to look passed the massive boulder they'd taken refuge behind, "The damned witch, running and hiding just when we were starting to win!"

The Hawk turned to where their leader was kneeling, peering around the boulder. He jumped back as a wave of ice erupted from the ground, nearly taking his head off. The Beast growled and glanced back at the others.

"We're so close...I can taste it...this is the final act, we need only stick the landing…" He trailed off. They'd managed to deal some damage, but now, with the Snow Queen retreating to the top of a mountain of ice, her fury unleashed in a hellstorm of biting wind and razor sharp icicles, they'd reached an impasse.

There was no way to reach her; no way to finish what they started.

"How though? That...mountain she made, there's no way we can get up there. Not in this storm," the Viper pointed out, gesturing to the icy walls around them, "Even if we tried to climb up, this entire cave is made out of her magic. The second we're on the ice, we'd be dead. The only way up there…" the assassin trailed off, shaking her head, "It's impossible."

The Hawk felt a chill colder than the Snow Queen's power as she heard the defeat in the Viper's voice, a tone she was certain the woman had never spoke with before. Her eyes opened wide and her mouth fell open when the Bear spoke up.

"We'd need to fly." His simple response echoed in the Hawk's ears. She felt her blood starting to run hot, feeling returning to her fingers and toes. She looked up at the Bear, then turned her attention to the Beast. When she tried to speak, no words escaped. Clearing her throat, steeling her nerves, she spoke up again.

"I can do it," despite the din of the storm and the Snow Queen's wrath, those four words drowned out everything else. The older members turned to face her: the Stag's mouth moving, his head shaking, the Viper's eyes wide, her hand covering her mouth, the Bear's grip on her tightening. Finally, the Beast's mouth agape, his head already shaking.

"No! No, no, no, no, no! It's too dangerous, Hawk. You'd be eviscerated by the ice before you even made it halfway. No, I'm not letting you-" the Beast trailed off as the Hawk forced her way out of the Bear's embrace.

"If I don't, we're all going to die!" her voice cracked, but her fear was quickly fading as a new warmth surged through her: burning, righteous anger. She quickly cut off the Viper when she started to speak up, "No! No, none of you get to tell me I'm wrong because you know I'm right! I'm the only one who can get to her!"

"It's a fool's errand, Hawk. We'll ugh...we'll think of something else," the Stag groaned, his hand rushing back to his side. The blood had finally frozen, the cold spreading up his side.

"Sofi," the use of her real name almost broke through Hawk's fury. She turned to face the Beast, biting her lip as he knelt beside her, lightly touching her cheek, "I...I know how much this means to you, but, I can't...I can't let you throw yourself away like this. You're just a kid, this isn't even the end of your first act, darling. You can't rob the world of your possibilities."

The Hawk pursed her lips, holding back tears as, for a moment, she heard Olle's voice - one she hadn't heard in years - instead of the Beast's. She reached up, taking the Beast's hand and took a shallow breath, shaking her head.

"My dad died...trying to bring back the Sun," She turned to look the Beast in the eye, "I can't let his death be in vain. I…" the Hawk clenched her eyes shut, a few tears escaping before quickly freezing to her cheeks, "I will do whatever it takes to see the Sun just one time...j-just one time, Beast," the Hawk looked up again, "Do you remember what you asked me...the day we met?"

The Beast slowly nodded, his lips trembling as a tear slid through his defenses, "I asked if you could fly…" Nodding again, this time with certainty, the Beast let go of the breath he was holding and pulled the Hawk close, kissing her head and hugging her tight. "You're right...you are so right...right now, in this moment, you are the star, darling," the Beast pulled back, holding the Hawk at arm's length, caressing her cheek, "Hawk, it's time for your grand finale...time to bring this tragedy to a close at last."

"Hawk," the Hawk looked up, gasping when the Viper threw herself at her, pulling her into tight hug, "You can do this, baby girl, I know you can do this…" The Viper lowered her voice, whispering in the Hawk's ear, "You'll only get one shot...you can't miss."

The Hawk nodded and returned the Viper's embrace, a shiver running through her body. As she turned to accept the Bear's embrace, she felt her mind drifting back to when she was seven years old. Standing outside her home, sobbing as she held onto her father, refusing to let him go. He gave his life to try to stop the Snow Queen.

"Hawk," The fourteen-year-old shuffled over to the old man's side, a tiny smile finding its way to her lips as he reached out and playfully tapped the bridge of her long nose, "Give that bitch one right between the eyes for me. Make me proud, kid." The Hawk nodded and smiled as the Stag pulled her closer and kissed her head.

With nothing left to say, and no more time left to kill, the Hawk picked up her bow, the same bow her father had given her all those years ago. Taking a deep breath, she closed her eyes, visions of her mother, her father, and her brother flashing through her mind. As those images faded, she saw the image of the Beast, the Bear, the Stag, and the Viper. She wanted to remember them how they were, a bunch of misfits and outcasts who had found each other and...for a time, found happiness. Eyes still closed, she reached for her quiver, fingers brushing the feathered tips of her arrows, counting them carefully.

She took one last, deep breath, sucking in air until her lungs felt ready to burst. Then, slowly opening her eyes, she turned her gaze skyward. As she let the breath go, she rose into a kneeling pose. Then, like a bolt of lightning, she shot from the ground, toward the wall of the cave.

A scream of fury from above let her know that her presence hadn't gone unnoticed. The wind suddenly changed direction, all of the Snow Queen's fury and ice heading straight for her. The Hawk quickly grabbed the edge of the wall, her foot instinctively fitting into an outcropping. The moment she felt solid ground beneath her, she launched herself again, her body twisting to avoid the more deadly icicles coming her way.

She managed to land on one of the ice pillars the Snow Queen had created earlier in the battle, eyes unblinking as she scanned the room quickly for her next perch. She felt the pillar beneath her suddenly shaking and quickly launched herself toward a massive ice stalagmite, twisting herself just enough for her feet to land first, allowing her to launch herself again. Her next perch, another ice pillar, crumbled the second her feet touched it.

Acting without hesitation, the Hawk loosed an arrow, firing it into the cave wall. Trusting her aim, she launched herself toward that wall, taking another arrow and using it as a pick to catch herself on the wall. The wind was getting more powerful, the icicles larger and more dangerous as she lifted herself up, balancing on her arrow for a moment, just long enough to send herself flying upward again, to land on the arrow she'd fired previously.

The wall behind her suddenly erupted, ice shards launching toward her, threatening to impale her as they grew. The Hawk jumped from her arrow, landing on the growing sheet of ice and launching herself toward another ice pillar. This one was already crumbling by the time she reached it, giving her only a second to launch herself again, without the time to look for a new perch. The Hawk snatched another arrow and fired it at the wall, giving her another foothold. She felt the arrow break the moment her foot touched it and quickly leaped to a small outcropping along the upper edge of the western wall.

She looked up, finally able to see the source of the snow and Winter that had started long before she was born. The Snow Queen, her glittering crystal blue skin, her raging dark blue eyes, was looking right at her. With a scream, her long, snow-white hair billowing in her own blizzard, the Snow Queen unleashed a barrage of ice and sleet unlike anything she'd summoned before. The Hawk was blown backward, hitting the wall, which quickly began to freeze to her.

With a grunt, she tore free and launched herself again, aiming for one last pillar that would give her the space she needed to reach the Snow Queen's platform. The world went upside down as the pillar turned to snow and collapsed before the Hawk could land on it. As she tumbled, it almost felt like time was slowing down around her. She could hear the Snow Queen's cries, but they were distant and muffled. She was certain she could hear her companions crying out as she fell, but even the storm was growing quiet as her eyes widened, staring through a hole in the ceiling of the cave, to the cloud covered sky above.

As she kept staring, she swore she could see the hint of a golden glow just behind the clouds.

"I saw it once, you know," her father had told her while they were hunting. Sofia hadn't known what he meant at the time, causing him to laugh and continue, "The Sun. I saw it once. Was on a hunt in the mountains, must have been...fourteen years ago now. Well before you and Olle were born."

What was it like, she'd asked, eyes wide and mouth agape. She felt a chill when her father had faltered for a moment, almost looking like he was going to cry.

"It was the most beautiful thing I'd ever seen…I was high up, hadn't found my man yet, so I decided to keep going up. Eventually, I managed to make it through the snow and the clouds...and there it was. The sky, brightest shade of blue I'd ever seen, covered in rays of golden light that went on forever from a fire that never went out. It was so warm...so peaceful..." Vincent paused to wipe his eyes. After a moment collecting himself, he chuckled and tousled her hair, "I'd do anything to see it one more time...and I'm gonna make sure you see it too, Little Bird."

The Hawk's eyes narrowed, her lips pulling back into a snarl as fresh tears spilled down her cheeks. With a grunt she spun herself around in the air, eyes locked on the pillar where the Snow Queen was waiting. As an icicle shot passed her, she lifted her leg and waited for just the right moment, before stomping down and sending herself flying into the air once more.

The icicles were coming faster than before, tiny ones like razors cutting at her cloak and skin, but the larger ones were her focus. They weren't weapons threatening to kill her: they were a staircase that would lead her to the sky. Moving without thinking, the Hawk launched herself from icicle to icicle, twisting and turning to avoid the Snow Queen's wrath, hand reaching back to her quiver, fingers brushing against her last arrow.

Higher and higher, she soared, leaping from icicle to icicle, arrow nocked, her fingers bleeding as she drew it back. As she rose up over the edge of the Snow Queen's platform, the Hawk looked her dead in the eye as she leveled her arrow with the demon's forehead. The Snow Queen reared back, the dark crystal between her breasts glowing with an unearthly dark light, and unleashed one final icy blast, spears of ice erupting from her pillar, a swirling cacophony of biting winds and cold rushing toward the teenager to blow her back and end her life.

But, in that moment, the Hawk saw her chance. One of the icy spears erupting from the platform was just low enough that she managed to plant her feet on it and launch herself spiraling into the air.

Upside down, hand coated in blood, her arm screaming in agony as she drew the arrow back as far as she could manage, the Hawk's eyes locked on that dark crystal and a scream escaped her lips as she let loose her final arrow.

XXXX

The air in the princess's room was heavy, as it had been for the four days since the assassination attempt. Following the fight, Princess Anna had been bedridden, refusing to wake up despite tossing and turning in what the castle physician had called a fever dream. Every so often, she would mutter or moan, but her eyes refused to open and as she settled, she fell back into a silent sleep.

Her sister, dutifully sitting on the edge of the bed, caressing her sister's hair as she slept, had suffered from quite the opposite. After having her wounds treated, she'd sequestered herself to Anna's room, refusing to leave her side, refusing to sleep until she passed out in bed beside her, for fear that if she looked away for even a moment, she might lose her again.

Elsa paused for a moment, her hand, both hands were now wrapped in gloves once more, trembling as she pulled away. She clutched her hand, shivering as she realized she couldn't feel her own touch. Taking a shallow breath, she released the magic that was covering her hands, revealing the crystal blue skin hiding beneath.

At first, it had only been her left hand, but, as Anna's condition refused to improve, the cold had spread. For now, it was only her hands, which were easy enough to hide given that she'd spent her entire life wearing gloves. But, in the back of her mind, when the night grew old and fatigue began to overtake her, her memories shifted back to that moment where she'd ceded control over to the cold. She hadn't been scared, or angry, or worried at all...she'd felt...nothing. That, how easily she'd let the cold take over after nearly losing Anna again, was what frightened her most.

"Please come back," Elsa's tired voice cracked as she resumed her watch. It had been days since she'd seen her sister's smile, a sight that chased away the fear that lingered in the back of her mind and kept the cold at bay. With every day that passed, she worried that warmth may never returned. Her chest hitched, a hand flying to her mouth to smother a sob as she felt herself begin to cry once more.

Her sob caught in her throat when she felt a warm hand brush against her cheek, fumbling to wipe away the tears. Elsa turned to her sister, a hesitant smile rushing to her lips.

"Anna?" Elsa leaned into her warm touch, her sister's soft hand caressing her cheek. Her smile faded slightly as she noticed the distant look in Anna's eyes; they seemed glassed over and unfocused, "Are you alright?"

"Hey...don't cry, Snow Fairy…" Anna's voice was weak, but music to Elsa's ears. The Queen slid closer as the Princess sat up. Before she could respond, the feeling of Anna's warm lips touching hers robbed her of any words she may have been considering. The touch lasted only for a moment, before Anna pulled away, "Everything is gonna be alright."

"Anna...wait, no, no, no! Wait, Anna, stay with me, please!" the brief comfort the Queen had begun to feel vanished as Anna's eyes rolled back and she collapsed back into her pillows. "Don't leave me…" Trembling, Elsa started to reach out to her, but paused, drawing her frozen hand back. Her fingers moved to touch her lips, her heart racing as she latched onto the memory of that kiss, refusing to let the feeling fade.

XXXX

"So...do you live out here by yourself?" The redhead asked as she and her new friend sat by the now thawed pond, shoes tossed aside, feet dangling in the water. She frowned when she noticed the way the Snow Fairy curled up, arms wrapping around her middle as she stared at some far off point, a few snowflakes beginning to fall around her. The two had been meeting for several months now, always in secret, sometimes brief, but sometimes late into the night. But, she'd never thought to ask about the fairy's parents, who seemed to never be around.

"Yeah...j-just me…" the Snow Fairy finally responded, her voice hitching as a tear slid down her cheek. She bit her lip as she felt the redhead brush the tear away, leaning into the touch, turning to face the younger girl.

"Hey...don't cry, Snow Fairy." The redhead's voice was soft, but sure. She pursed her lips for a moment, then, taking a chance, she leaned in close, her lips just barely brushing against the fairy's. The touch only lasted for a moment before the redhead pulled away.

The Snow Fairy's eyes widened and her hand reached up, fingers brushing against her lips. Her cheeks turned a light shade of pink as she stared into the redhead's eyes. She held her breath as the redhead reached up, tucking her long white hair behind her ear. That touch, however brief, was enough to bring a smile to the Snow Fairy's face.

"Everything is gonna be alright." The redhead grinned as the fairy nodded and returned her attention to the water. When the redhead's fingers brushed against the fairy's hand, there was no hesitation as she accepted the embrace. Holding her hand tight, the redhead began to sing.

After a moment, the soft, nervous sound of the fairy's voice joined her.