Chapter 1: Morning Routines

The following fic is a crossover re-imagining of Beauty and the Beast

Special thanks to my co-author CharmedSkye92 for helping out!

The sun rose over the large stone wall that stood high over the small fjordside village of Krokus. The small homes with their peaked roofs and cozy wooden shutters were starting to stir as the dark sky lightened with the first rays of dawn. Ships were coming into the harbor to drop off their wares and sales. The flowers the kingdom was named for were just surfacing through the soil, their tips purple and yellow. The smells of fresh bread, cut flowers, fish just caught, and the pine trees that crested the very tops of the mountains.

Villagers were mingling through and thus began their rituals of the morning. Among them were two close friends. They had been close since childhood, listening to the stories told to them by one's doting nanny. Yet here they stood as young women, still side by side like little girls. It was always a pastime they both could enjoy, going into the village and seeing the fresh wares.

Anna was the younger of the two. Her ginger braids and bright teal-tinted eyes were as bright and warm as the summer season that Krokus was so far from. Yet everything from the half-skip in her step to the way she smiled and greeted everyone with a wave or how she slid down town stairwells was full of youthful energy. It was a wonder how the other girl kept up with her.

Elsa was three years older than Anna, and if Anna was the bright happy sun, then Elsa was the solemn moon. Her hair was platinum blonde, almost white. The style was expertly pulled into a bun with milkmaid braids flanking her ears. Her eyes, as blue as the harbor, were shrewd with scholarly knowledge but deep down, an insecurity about the world.

They had lived since they were children, having met through parental acquaintanceship. Anna's parents were travel writers, sailing the seas to fill their journals with wonderful pictures and tales of what lay beyond the mountain and the harbor. Elsa's father had been a wealthy merchant with ships sailing to different points throughout the world. Tragedy had befallen the latter. He, along with Elsa's mother, were lost at sea when one of his ships, the Corona, was sunk in a fierce winter storm. It had been three years from the present. Elsa still resided in the empty manor on the outskirts of the village, and Anna stayed with her nanny while her own parents continued to sail, sending mail with varying tokens of travel such as an unusual shell or the feather of an exotic bird. They weren't as grandiose as the oriental bowls or thick leather bound books Elsa's family had gifted her with, but they provided a sense of wonder to keep one from falling into a pit of mourning.

"Can I at least pull you in the big dance?" Anna begged. "It's so depressing watching you sit on the sidelines."

"I'll be fine," Elsa held up a hand and gave a small smile. "Besides, you no I have two left feet. I'd make one step and everyone would fall."

Anna groaned. "Elsa, we've got to get you someone to talk to besides me."

"I talk to people!" Elsa objected. "I say hello to everyone we stop by to every morning." On cue, the flower shop owner came out with her arms filled with spring time blooms. She waved, which prompted a small wave from Elsa and an exhuberent almost cartwheelish one from Anna. "Hello!" both women chorused to the brown haired, green eyed shopkeep.

Anna put her hands on her hips as they walked away. "That's different! You can't just live behind a closed door for the rest of your life!"

Elsa looked away. Her closest friend meant well, but at times she could become unintentionally invasive of her life. So, she preferred books and tea over her friends' idea of twirling around with a silk ribbon and draping herself to catch the attention of someone. Her gaze shifted up towards the mountains. For all she knew, the trolls Anna's nanny always spoke about were up there, along with their unusual magic. Stories echoed like someone calling out secrets in an empty cave. The echo would reverberate, sometimes changing how a story was told, or some times, the story would stay the same.

"…High in the mountains, where no footprints can be traced…"

Elsa's ears perked up. She was so used to hearing this particular tale be told to her by Anna's nanny with her voice cracked from aging. This story was being enthusiastically shared by a younger storyteller. Children were flocking to the colorful tablecloth spread out as the storyteller sat on a chair, hands waving as if casting some enchantment with his words.

"A castle stands proud and tall. Its bowers were carved from the crystals growing in the mountainside, looking remarkably like ice. Some times at the break of dawn, the sun catches the light, making it glitter against the dark stones. The castle has wings and countless rooms, and gardens flourishing in an eternal summer. Yet its lone inhabitant is not a human."

"So, who lives up there?" A child raised his hand.

The storyteller stroked his beard thoughtfully. "No one knows if he was born with his appearance or cursed. He stands like a man, but he is as strong as a bear and armed with claws and fangs that are just as sharp. The one thing they can agree on is darkness swarms around him like a black fire. Some times, you can hear his roars of rage reverberate through the mountains."

That had been the part of the story Elsa always hated hearing, even as a child. She pictured a hulking monster letting loose black fire with a howl. But even yelling didn't quench its desire to wreak havoc and attack. It had led to many nightmares for her where that monster would lunge for her.

"Has anyone tried to confront the monster?" another child asked.

"They say if enough light was shone, it would banish the darkness for good…"

Someone next to Elsa coughed, with a disdainful 'ridiculous' being masked amid the cough. She turned, startled by the voice, completely forgetting stories of monsters living in castles carved from crystal. Upon seeing the naysayer, Elsa's entire blood ran cold. Of the people in Krokus, none rubbed her the wrong way quite so much as Hans Wintergaard.

Hans was from a village south of Krokus. According to him, it was home to the warmest beaches and finest perfumes. He worked as a stablehand for hire, and with all the polish he put on, besides his boots, he could have been confused for a prince. His auburn hair was smoothed back, highlighting his hazel eyes. Almost every girl, save Elsa, was charmed by his outward appearance. Even Anna was smitten. In a little girl who found her first crush kind of way.

"Good morning, Elsa. Anna." Hans grinned at him.

"…Hello," Elsa responded in kind.

"Fancy seeing you here," Anna's smile was big. Despite the redhead grinning at him, he was staring at the blonde. Anna cleared her throat, stepping beside her friend. "So…how goes your morning?"

Hans dusted the front of his vest. "Well, the horses owned by the Corona family are properly shoed. I was about to check on your reindeer." By reindeer, he meant Sven. Sven had been a yearling when Anna had saved him from freezing one winter. The two made a connection thereafter and he would sometimes break out of his pen and follow Anna and Elsa like a well trained dog. Hans would groom the lovable steed when time came. Or when Anna batted her eyes enough.

"Oh, well, he's where he usually is," Anna stammered, playing with her skirt. "By that, I mean, he's not going after us."

"Anna forgot her carrots," Elsa chimed in with a forced smile.

Hans laughed, "Well, good."

Elsa glanced back towards the main part of the village. She wanted to stay by the storyteller and listen again. Yet errands were calling her. Errands she'd make on a whim, but still anything was better than the company of someone that disrespected her stories.

"I'll, uh leave you two to chat," Elsa stepped back. "I, um, have to go pick up some lefse from the baker."

"Oh, Elsa!" Hans called after her. "If you aren't doing anything tonight…"

Elsa hesitated. No. She wasn't doing anything. Yet something about Hans rubbed her the wrong way. She couldn't quite place it, yet being rude wasn't an option. Especially not if Anna was making goo goo eyes at him. Well, her and several other girls in Krokus. She folded her hands over her skirt, plucking at the powder blue cotton. "I'm afraid my father's will needs to be studied before I send it off. It'll be dreadfully boring, I assure you."

Hans shook his head. "Oh nonsense! We can make it a dinner date. I can bring the wine, you can make the…"

"No thank you." Elsa said with an edge in her voice. She locked eyes with him. "There are other fish in the sea. I suggest casting a wider net." Having said her piece, Elsa stepped away from him and Anna. She was skirting past the fishmonger when she paused. A few whispers were breaking out, and she knew they were whispers about her. The merchant's daughter who preferred life alone. The pale woman that could have passed as a ghost haunting the mansion. The ice queen who's heart was impossible to thaw.

Sometimes it was funny how just walking through the town by herself made Elsa realize how alone she was.