QUICK NOTES

Regarding dialogue: the characters' use of language, here, is in keeping with that of the movie, which is to say that it's pretty much modern in spite of the time frame

Also, I'm not a new writer but I am a new user of … this site. Or any site. I've never published before, so apologies for any technical snafus. I'll learn.

Arendelle and its peeps aren't mine.

Chapter 1

The summer days should have been long—exceedingly long—but this false season made it nearly impossible to measure time. As a little girl, Anna and her family had had to simulate night, during the warmer months, with dark curtains and heavy shutters. She'd learned that this was not the case at lower latitudes, but as she'd never known any different, the extreme divergence of light between summer and winter didn't really bother her. Now, on the other hand, the sky was almost uniformly grey for hours, until a slender line of pink slipped between the mountains and the clouds and an abbreviated darkness lay cold upon the world.

At least here, in this narrow shed somewhere on the flanks of the North Mountain, she was warm. She shared the space with a slightly over-affectionate reindeer and a rangy outdoorsman whose history was not entirely clear to her. The latter was temperamental, disinclined to make conversation, and forthright to the point of rudeness. Not that her sensibilities were all that delicate—it's just that she wasn't used to such plainspoken behavior. After all, she'd spent the majority of her existence up until this point alone in an echoing old castle, with only a small domestic crew to keep her company.

She knew her predicament was rather absurd: in a lovely castle surrounded by lovely people, she felt a gnawing loneliness that—try as she might—she could not shake off. And while some members of the staff were like family to her (namely, Gerda and Kai), there was no one her age with whom she could bond. Unless you counted her sister, which Anna did not. It was for this reason, in fact, that she had never in her life had an actual friend before.

Not that she'd call Kristoff a friend. At the moment, she could appreciate how he tried to restrain his limbs for her in their tight little niche. And he had spent the better part of three days guiding her through treacherous mountain terrain, though he certainly had something to gain from finding Elsa and putting an end to this extraordinary winter. He'd even taken her on a short detour to consult the trolls, who were wise in such matters. But the case remained that he was rather too … unfriendly. He taunted her for having engaged herself to Prince Hans in the time it took most people to plan a meal. And, regardless of the fact that they had a common goal, he didn't even try to hide his lack of enthusiasm for her company.

Anna stared at him over the flickering lantern light, partly because she was curious and partly because she knew it made him uncomfortable. He'd propped himself up in the corner and wrapped his arms around his knees. It looked terribly discommodious.

Next to him, Sven sprawled out and snored heartily.

"So," Anna ventured. "You were raised by trolls …"

"Mmm-hm."

She waited for him to elaborate, but he did not. Of course. "Didn't you have parents?" she asked.

"I assume so."

"What happened to them?"

He shrugged. "I don't remember."

Anna considered this. Would it be better to have never known your parents at all than to have felt their love and then lost it—and them—all at once? She wasn't sure. Looking at Kristoff, she was left feeling cross and perplexed. He was inscrutable.

"They seem very nice," she persisted. "Your ... family."

Kristoff shrugged again. This was apparently obvious to him and did not require a response. Still, she could tell that he'd been nervous to introduce her to them. They could be a little "inappropriate," he'd said beforehand, and they certainly let loose with their own … preposterous ... assumptions. But she'd been both heartened and amused by their pride in him. She had never witnessed such extravagance of feeling before. Not in her family. Ever.

"Do you think Pabbie's right?" she wondered aloud. "That fear can distort my sister's ... um ... powers?"

Kristoff's eyes glittered darkly in the scant glow of the lantern. He was staring, mesmerized by the flame in that way that happens when a person feels agreeably tired.

"Yeah," he said simply. "Pabbie's always right."

They were silent for a moment. Then Kristoff slouched further down the wall and sighed. "It'll be OK, Anna."

She wasn't convinced, but it was nice of him to say so. He had gotten a little more sociable—a little warmer, one might say—over the last few days, once he'd recovered a bit from the shock of human companionship. Sven, of course, had taken to Anna immediately. They made for an odd little alliance, these three, and that wasn't even including the live snowman that ran a constant narrative—even now—from the darkness outside.

Anna fidgeted. Then she risked another question.

"Can I say something crazy?"

Kristoff dragged his gaze from the lantern. "I don't want to marry you," he said archly. Then he smirked.

She narrowed her eyes at him. "Can you please just ... stop with that?"

"No."

"It's not important."

"All right."

She sighed. "Do you want Elsa to bring summer back or not?"

"Yes. OK."

"Because—supply and demand, right?"

He held up his hands. "Fine, Anna. Just … what's crazy?"

"Well—" She took a deep breath. "What if she can't bring the sun back? What if things are, I don't know, stuck like this? Forever? How can Elsa not be afraid of her powers?"

Kristoff didn't say anything right away, and when he did his words were blunt and comfortless.

"We can't afford to think like that."

In other words, they had to find Elsa and they had to restore summer. Because, otherwise, farmers couldn't grow food for sustenance, and their stock would eventually freeze or starve. The frozen harbor would damage both trade and industry—not to mention the livelihoods of people like Kristoff. And the villagers and settlers and migrant tradesmen of the fjords would slowly, slowly capitulate to the cold.

If they failed to save summer, Arendelle would die.