The Beginning.

Princess Anna was nervous.

She was beyond nervous; in little more than 10 hours she would have a sceptre in one hand and an orb in other; crown on her head. In short, she would be queen.

I am so not ready for this.

Whilst her ministers had wanted to wait until she turned 21 to take the throne, her parents death three years ago had sped the process up; quite simply, the kingdom couldn't wait another three years for its queen. She felt a pang at the memory of her parents; tears gathering at the corners of her off colour blue eyes. She blinked them away, trying to focus on remembering the old norse she had to recite at her coronation.

"Sehm hon hell-drr, in-um hell-gum, ayg-hum ok krund ee thes-um hel-gah stath, ehk the, frahm, fur ear, U-thear" she stumbled dismally over the words, the same ones she had been tripping over all night. She glanced out the window and saw, to her dismay, that dawn was breaking. She rested her elbows on her desk, head falling onto her hands before she sobbed.

The wind outside her window shook itself before travelling across the town, dancing across roof tops and window sills, out to the ocean where ships were starting to trickle into the port with the dawn. On one of these ships, was Prince Hans of the Southern Isles, who stared out at the ocean from the prow of his vessel, the salty wind ruffling his auburn hair, the spray rising from the sea speckling his white jacket.

Today's the day.

Today was the day he would arrive in Arendelle, the day his destiny would be set. My destiny as king. He had planned it all; he would marry Princess Anna after she had been crowned queen, arrange a little accident for her, and presto; he would be the sole ruler of the broken kingdom, besieged by tragedy ever since they're first born princess had died in a sledding accident when she was eight. Princess Elsa had been mourned by all; the nation wore black for months after her death. Then, the king and queen had died when their ship to Corona had sank, leaving Princess Anna all alone. And, Hans reflected, Vulnerable.

A girl lonely for so long, kept away from the evil in this world, from the evil in men like him, would be easy prey, he considered. Besides, word was the princess was a sweet, nice if clumsy girl, remarkably humble and modest for someone of her station…how utterly perfect.

Her coronation was that day; the Royal Family of the Southern Isles had all received an invitation, but Hans was the only one who bothered to attend; after all, who cares about the coronation of some princess in a tiny country?

"Princess Anna," he recalled his brother saying, "is nothing special."

That suited Hans right down to the ground. After all; the more ordinary, the more susceptible to his charms.

The wind watched him for a beat before it flew once more, away from the scheming prince, bored and undisturbed. After all, the wind had seen dynasties rise and fall; it had sent the King and Queen of Arendelle to the bottom of the ocean, it had tasted the gunpowder of a bullet that changed a kingdom. It did not care about just another ambitious prince. And so, it travelled on. Back across the wide ocean, past Arendelle's busy ports with its smiling faces and happy laughter, past the castle, its nervous princess inside, over the forests and the lakes, all blooming with the brush of spring. The wind grew cold, so very cold as it travelled further away from the safe, warm kingdom. It reached the base of the north mountain, but didn't stop there.

The wind does not stop for anyone.

The North Mountain sat, watching over the kingdom like a scar on the landscape, brooding and dark. And on the North Mountain, lay a palace. A palace made of ice, and hatred.

The wind, which had seen many evils across its weary years, turned on its tail and fled, fled from what was in that ice castle back to the happy, comforting kingdom with its light and laughter. For inside that cold, frozen palace, was a darkness it recognised. An evil inside a white haired woman in a crown of ice.

A woman that screamed.