Summary

When Anna sacrifices her life for her sister, something goes terribly wrong—Elsa unleashes a wrathful vengeance, killing Hans, and inadvertently causes a catastrophic maelstrom. Years later they awaken, but in a world far in the future, where monsters and guardians take the skies. Will they adapt to this wonderful and frightening new world, or perish at its claws?

Frozen meets Rise of the Guardians and Hotel Transylvania in this action packed, romance filled story, where not even I can yet tell the end. Each chapter stretches from 2k-5k words, however this will be much shorter as it is just a kickoff. I cannot stress enough…Please review throughout the story! You have no idea how much motivation one measly review brings to this measly writer. Or ay writer, I assure you. ANY review is welcomed, ESPECIALLY criticism. In addition, if you request a certain character to appear more in the plot, or in the plot at all, just tell me, and if it is within the possibilities then I would be happy to oblige in order to enhance your experience as a reader.

Pairings

Elsa/Jack

Kristoff/Sophie

Anna/Mavis

Introduction

The moon shone across snow-graced streets, lamps hazy in the softly falling flakes. They touched the ground like icy kisses, slowly painting the scenery with more and pleasant whites. The sky's silver bathed each darkened rooftop, glancing off the windows and swirling past smoke in a mystic motion. And, where the flurries swirled strongest, there floated a boy with colorless hair and glowing skin. He seemed to radiate, a cold sun among the chill, staff in hand. His attire was rather ragtag—torn brown pants and an old hoodie. No shoes. No gloves. But the boy was not rigid. He was not uncomfortable or uncouth. Rather, a perfect air of eloquence surrounded him. Every motion was fluid, natural, and brilliant.

They called him Jack Frost.

Bringer of beautiful lights, frightless nights, and snowball fights…though he was known most of the later most feat. The certain mischief that came with snowball fights was after all his specialty; no day passed where fun and joy was not spread with his contagious delight. It was his sole purpose. His center.

Fun.

And boy did he enjoy it.

Leaping from the sky he seemingly stood in, Jack laughed lightly and skid past the sidewalks. An icy path was left in his wake, a mirror reflecting the whirling air. He flew past house after house, past street after street and then town after town, as if skating on the asphalt, until he jammed his staff into the ground. Swinging with it like a pole jump, Jack came to a weightless halt in front of one familiar door. Then, much slower, his body hovered up in the hands of the wind to the window. Inside was a light blue room, covered with doodles and toy parts and marbles and models. Little pieces of clay figurines were scattered here and there, drawing pads flipped open to random pages, arrays of paints and charcoals splayed out in chaotically organized trays. In the center, above the bed, hung a large model of a snowflake. It was made of glass, supported by a myriad of thin silver beams, but upon closer examination it could be seen that writing was etched into every inch of the artwork. At the very bottom, a signature was carved, but so cryptic and light that only he could decipher the illustrator.

Jack knocked on the window, little tendrils of frost creeping over the glass. The soft clinking was met with a rustle from the person in the bed, who first rolled over in annoyance, then froze, and tumbled out of bed in a heap of sheets and pajamas. The mass squirmed for a while, shoved off the covers, and dashed for the window.

It was a girl about 17—her hair was a train wreck of gold, each strand pointing a different direction. The front was long but the back short, side bands shadowing her right eye. She hurriedly brushed them away to reveal eyes bluer then the ocean and a smile brighter than the snow, before she slid open the window. It wasn't locked—they were accustomed to meeting suspiciously in the middle of the night—but for a matter of respect he never invited himself in.

"Jack!" She exclaimed, poking her head outside and wrapping her arms around his neck. He laughed heartily in response, returning the hug and ruffling her hair more than it already was. They were like family, like siblings, brother and sister. They filled the voids their own families left behind, a bond formed after years of knowing eachother.

"Geez Sophie, don't strangle me," he joked. "You've gotten stronger…you haven't gotten into any fights have you?" The last part was only half a joke. She was actually renowned for getting into fights; but not physical ones, mental ones. It was rare that anyone even tried to bother her anymore, even the bullies.

"Only every day," she replied, returning the jest. He made a dramatic sigh, hunching his shoulders.

"Oh man. Sooner or later you're gonna end up being more mischievous than me."

"Uh yeeeaaahhh….maybe in another thousand years."

He winked. "You know me so well. Here, let's go on inside. You might get a cold."

"Not from your snow I won't."

"Heh, don't be so sure about that kiddo. Get on North's naughty list again and I might bite."

"You wouldn't!"

"…Yeah, you're right, I won't."

He smirked. "I just won't bring snow."

She tackled him, bringing them both to the floor but cushioned by the fallen blankets. "Jerk!" She giggled, pounding his chest.

"Oh come on, don't be like that."

"But it's true, you're a big fat jerkface."

"Jerkface? We both know you can do better than that. That's a….that's a five year old insult."

"Is not!"

"You're right. It's a two year old insult."

She punched him again.

"Whatever, jerkface."

He rolled his eyes, helping them both up to lean on the bedframe. He was behind her, she resting on his chest, as he combed through her sun woven hair with his fingers.

"I wonder how you'd look with hair like mine," he wondered aloud.

"You mean messy hair?"

"Hey, yours is messier than main, smart Alec."

"That's just because It's, like, midnight."

"Uh huuuh. Well I didn't mean messy. I mean if it was white."

"That would be awesome," she grinned. "I'd be, like, albino."

He tilted his head to the side in contemplation. "Nah. You look much better blonde."

"Well what if you were blonde?"

He stopped, taking a moment to give her an incredulous stare. "No. You are not going there."

They laughed. And then they went quiet. This was why he loved her. He made her feel like a person, like a brother again. They talked like friends did, they treated eachother like siblings. After centuries of enduring loneliness, the simple interactions they shared were beyond precious. It was different than talking with the other guardians…She was a kid, but she also wasn't. She had all the innocence youth entailed, but she had a kind of intuitiveness and understanding he never would have guessed a kid could have.

Deep down he knew that one day her innocence would disappear and she would move on in life, away from him, just like her brother across the planet. Yes that saw eachother, but he was always so busy. As a councilor and psychologist renowned across the coast, he had no time for a childhood memory, no matter how pleasant. He was making a difference for the kids Jack could not bring joy to, and so he respected him. But he also missed him. The get togethers on Christmas and Easter were not enough, though eventually there wouldn't be any for them to share.

Humans aged.

He didn't.

And that was the worst thought of all.

He shoved it back into the corners of his mind. Just thinking about it brought anxiety and sorrow, along with the terrible fact that Sophie too would grow old and die. But not before then, he assured himself. He was a guardian, but also her guardian. Nothing would happen to his little sister under his watch.

A vibration shook the two from their mutual silence, a light slicing through the room. For a moment he thought that her mother walked in to see what the noise was about before, until he realized it was from his orb. He pulled a bright, wintery sphere from his pocket, letting the magic bleed energy into the room.

"Is it urgent?" Sophie asked with curiosity. Not only did she generally know the orb's purpose, but clearly recalled accidentally triggering it so many years ago and ending up in Bunnymund's domain.

Jack narrowed his eyes. Normally the orb would project some kind of image. But now it was completely blurred.

"I dunno," he muttered. "Something must be up with North if it's so…muddled." He hopped to his feet, hurling the contraption against her wall. It flashed into a blast of brightness, forming a swirling vortex of energy, a portal, against it.

"Sorry Soph, gotta run." He smiled at her, grabbing his staff. "I'll fill you in next time we meet."

Without waiting for a response, he jumped in.

The experience was a strange on. Normally it would just sweep him away, in and out. Instead, as soon as he got into the portal, he was thrashed around by the pure pressure. Something was very wrong. After a good two minutes of being swept around, keeping a deathgrip on his staff, he was thrown violently into North's control center. Before crashing to the ground he glimpsed Bunnymund, Tooth, and Sandman with the big guy around a pedestal.

His head spun and his side was sore from the impact. "Agh, dang North, heck was up with that? Your teleporters need maintenance or what?"

"No. Today is the day, Jack Frost. And so soon…"

He got to his feet, stepping between Bunnymund and Tooth.

"Day for what? What are you guys all serious about?"

Silence.

"Hey, hey! I'm out of the loop, so how about someone fill me in…?"

Tooth sighed softly. "Sorry Jack, we're all just surprised. None of us really know anything for sure…only the moon can tell."

"The moon…" He frowned. "But you said the last time the moon spoke up, it was to…"

"To choose the new guardian. To choose you," she finished.

"Guardians rarely get chosen, Jack," North added, a dire tone in his voice. "And it is usually under strange circumstances. For there to be two new guardians within fifteen years…even within the century…something very not right."

"And I guess it has more to do with your faulty teleporters."

"Shut it mates!" Bunnybund snapped. "And look."

The five of them stared at the pedestal, leaning in. Jack swore he could hear their collective heartbeats. Slowly the moon, full in his glory, bathed a beam of light upon it. As it came upon it, an image seemed to flicker. Then it was molded. The figure of a girl. She looked young and had a pretty face, choppy dark bangs and short hair over a thin figure. She was dressed rather strange, and sported a sinister looking cloak. She was smirking a quirky kind of smirk, two large fangs protruding from her lips. Something both innocent and corrupt possessed her eyes, enticing him.

"Impossible!" North roared, face the image of shock. Jack looked over to him, confused at the outburst.

"What? Do you know this girl?"

North ignored him completely. "This is a mistake, moon, there is no way you can allow this as a guardian!"

The moon flickered, the image disappearing. "You're sure you say? How can you be sure of such a strange and cruel thing?" He grit his teeth in frustration. "You're always right are you not, moon. But this will certainly not end well!"

The moon flashed brighter this time, another beam coming forth. North was instantly silenced, and grew still. Sandman looked on in wonder, an exclamation point glimmering over his head.

"Oh my," Tooth whispered. "A second one?"

"Now this is what you call impossible…" Bunndymund gasped.

This image came much faster. The light revealed a taller girl in a magnificent dress, long braided hair wild and disheveled, yet majestic. She glowed like the moon itself and possessed an aura of something like purity and grace, even as just an image. It seemed to trigger something inside of him, from both the icy shock in his fingers to the frost of his name.

The words escaped before he could stop them.

"She's beautiful."

It was fast.

Too fast.

But it was also too slow.

She could see every moment, as her sister ran harder than she could probably physically manage, and as her once fiancé poised to bring his sword down over her head. She saw it all. There was the demonized glimmer in Hans' eyes, swimming in pools of murderous intent. She knew that behind them there would be not light but a horrible, decaying, searing greed which drove him. A fuel that would gnaw at his humanity whether or not he ended up killing her with that sword. It would start with his mind, and then work its way to his heart, so easily corrupted, and make him a monster.

Or was he already a monster?

Maybe Anna could answer her question, but her eyes were so unlike his, filled with the mirth of kindness and kinship and care. From them bled desperation and fear, but not for herself as she withered to ice, but for her. And that was worse than if Hans' sword had just torn through her throat. Her sister's selflessness was dagger, slowly penetrating her chest, to lurch and twist the flesh from her bones.

She saw it all, but she could not move. Her lips would not open. Her voice would not call, scream or beg for Anna to stop, to turn away, to kiss her true love and save herself.

And to apologize.

No.

Instead, her body was rooted to the ground, chained as Anna stopped before her, skin melting to ice, hair glazing to frost, eyes bleak and glassy. The blizzard seemed to part around her now that it could no longer hinder, as if the snow did not dare to touch the girl's fragile stance.

Frozen.

Hans' sword crashed down, but broke as soon as it touched. Shards of metal flew every which way and scratched her cheeks, but it was nothing compared to the claws stabbing her heart.

This could not be happening.

The one thing.

The one thing she swore she would protect.

The one thing that gave her happiness in her lonely world.

The one thing which gave her hope her ice would melt.

Gone.

The confused, shocked, and slightly angry expression of the man's face was replaced with sheer terror. Past the cold statue of the girl he deceived and betrayed, a great creature rose. The blizzard grew dense and hard; seeing a foot in front of him was a challenge. If he had tried to move, he would have found that the wind would sweep him off his feet. Ice would grip his bones, snow would suffocate him. But fear gripped him tighter. The silhouette of the beast just stood there, the shadows of long claws and towering spikes glancing through the haze. Two fiery eyes blazed through, filled with more fury, hatred, animosity than he could ever hope to muster.

Monster, he wanted to scream. Get away. Get away from me!

The 'monster' took a step forward. His face was numb, but he was sure his lips were shaking.

This was a mistake. This was not part of the plan. It was simple, so simple.

Court the princess.

Kill the Queen.

Get the crown, and happily ever after.

Apparently he was a fool for thinking it would be easy. Because no, Queen Elsa of Arendelle was not just a queen. She had to be a witch, a monster, and something beyond his reach. Everything was always beyond his reach—his parents' favor, his brothers' respect, his kingdom's love.

But who could have anticipated this? He cried out inwardly in selfish regret, hoping for a miracle which could never come.

It roared. That alone may have killed him from the fear. Either way, the claws which sliced him clean in half most certainly did.

Kristoff heard no cry of pain, no scream of death, but felt, smelled and tasted his blood carried by the wind and snow. It splattered all over his face, on his hands, over his clothes, and for a moment he thought it was Anna's blood. He thought that maybe Hans did end up striking her, but no. He knew it couldn't have been her, for a low glow far through the storm could only be her chill locked presence. But he saw behind it, a figure that scared the wits out of him. He was not ashamed to admit that. It was large.

No.

That was an understatement.

It was huge.

The beast sported claws larger than its head, and touched the ground. What could only be a tail dragged behind it, wrapping around the glow that was Anna's statue. It seemed unaffected by the raging maelstrom surrounding it, but emanated such wrath that he couldn't muster the bravery to move.

And then it looked at him.

His stomach seemed to leap to his throat, and his eyes widened, an overwhelming feeling overcoming the stinging in his eyes. But the beast's own gaze was slightly familiar, if not wholly so, as they penetrated his soul. Then he remembered—this was a little like how he felt when he met Elsa, the Ice Queen, back at her lonely palace. Her stare seemed to cut through him, attempting and possibly succeeding in peeling back his skin and scrutinizing the character he was. He recalled it as analytical, observing, criticizing almost, but not quite judging.

Simply deducing and knowing. Deducing and knowing whether or not he could be trusted. But she never really knew.

But this…this couldn't be Elsa. Elsa was kinda scary, yeah, and she had hella scary body guards, but she wasn't a monster. He knew that from seeing how much she treasured her little sister, and how much she treasured her.

Gulping, mouth dry in contrast to his now soaked body, Kristoff took a step forward. For a moment he thought he would be tossed aside by the storm, but no, his boot met the crunch of snow and dug in. The beast's eyes flashed dangerously, but it made no move. For an eternity of bitter pressure they looked eachother down.

He took another step.

This one was harder than the first. He stumbled, hands and face in a cold burn as he forced himself up.

He took a third step, and remained stable. He wasn't sure if he was crying because of the pain, because if he was, then his tears were in the snow and in the air now. In the back of his mind he hoped that Sven was alright, and then that he probably wasn't, and took a fourth and fifth step.

Anna's warm glow and the shadow of the beast got ever closer. Desperately he wanted to be by her side, wrap his arm around her, and pray to whatever god toyed with them that she would be all right. And so a sixth step was made.

He was getting the hang of it.

Kristoff kept walking. It was more like, trudging, like clawing his way through, though. And the beast kept staring.

Then he could see them more clearly—the shining, crystal like form of his one true love. She was beautiful even devastated, an enchanting even though it pained him. And the beast…

Was no mere beast.

It was a nightmare.

What he imagined to be a powerful structure of muscle and claws was a thing of ice. Black ice. Ice enveloped in shadows, ice siphoned of its beauty and replaced with despair. His eyes widened and it loomed over him.

Kristoff reached for Anna. He was sure he would die. If not because of the beast, but because of the cold. He just wanted to touch her. Embrace her for the first and last time.

But the storm raged harder.

The cold breathed faster.

And the beast was upon him.

He was knocked into the ground, and he saw the claws, the tendrils of darkness, slick with blood. It was Hans' blood, spreading throughout the wind still but miraculously never being completely removed from the claws. He smelled it once again, and smelled his future.

"I love you, Anna," he gasped.

And the wind sucked away his words.

Past the lights of the cities and the hums of the rural, a dense forest of grand trees and wide lakes spread far. Under normal circumstances the forest would be soon overrun by greedy businessmen and men equipped with saws and bulldozers, but this was not a normal forest. Where the trees stretched tall, darkness clouded the trees. Where deer and bears roamed free, haunted entities live alongside them. Wicked creatures of which only fables could explain wove the feared threads which bound the forest's tale, giving anyone who came close a run for their money.

But that was the thing.

No one ever, ever came close.

Most were scared of the forest. Some even revered it. Others less fortunate who dared venture in fell prey to the fiends of fairy tales, and yet more fear would fester. It was the perfect place for secrets—where men would never stick their noses and could not explore. If anyone strong and brave enough were to try, they would find something beyond the sinister cloud, something beyond the illusion of fear and accidents made real.

They would find nature untouched.

Lush wildlife flourished in the forest that was. Thick clouds hid this, but the dark green foliage was the home to many creatures. Known…and unknown. There were meek fawns, sturdy elk and colorful fish. But there were also spiders made of skulls, wolves with devil horns, and simple darkness. But it was the simple things which scared men the most.

Today, however, was a less scary day. In the dark and empty night sky, hardly a cloud could be seen. The skeletons and monsters inhabiting the forest lay low, and but a sound could be heard save for joyous laughter. It echoed into the caves and canopies, uncharacteristic of the scene. And across the lake, a young bat sped along, the tip of its wing grazing the crystal clear water.

It was an ominous creature, with soft black fur and magnificent wings. Her large eyes were filled with wonder and happiness, betraying her otherwise mysterious nature, absorbing each passing fly and jumping fish as if it was a dream.

For her, it was.

This was the first time she had ever seen the outside world, for she was the daughter of perhaps the most powerful and protective entity a girl could wish or dread for. Her father was Count Dracula. No one ever believed her, of course, until she proved it. Naturally she possessed the ability to turn into a bat. All Draculas could. She also possessed mediocre mind controlling abilities, but hey, her father was still training her. She was destined for greatness, they would say. She would lead the monsters, they would say. She would be just like him, they would say.

But she really, really, didn't want to.

Because while the the werewolves, the zombies, the mummies, even Frankenstein feared and loathed man, Mavis Dracula wanted nothing more than to know them. People bad. People cruel. People mean. People should be hated and feared and attacked, because they not only steal your candy and bite your toes, but kill monsters. That's what they all said, and usually she believed them.

But she also wanted to see them for herself. She couldn't help but think that perhaps they were not all like that—evil, candy-stealing, murderous abominations. After all, most of them fear monsters too. Perhaps it's all one cycle of fear and misunderstandings? There would be no way to tell but figure it out for herself. But no. Until now, Dad had just cooped her into the hotel all day long for 118 years. She was suddenly extremely glad that she made him swear over their mouse pudding to allow her to go to the outside world when she was 118 those 30 years ago.

And boy was it awesome.

Her soft pelt rustled in the wind, her clumsily oversized ears sensitive to the world. They twitched and swerved with each cracking twig, each rustling bush, each splash in the water. Every natural experience was a new one to her, overwhelming her senses. The calming quiet of her room was the opposite of the bustling melody of the forest, like a thousand unique instruments strung together in a hymn of discovery—and this was just the neighborhood! There was so much out there from here to Haweewee, and here she was on her way to just one small town on the edge of it all.

To say she was excited would be calling an ocean a pond.

Her wings flapped harder, propelling her up to the stars. This was the best she had ever felt in her life, the openness all around her, the freshness in her lungs. It was more than she could wish for her birthday, and she was sure her entire life had just led up to this moment.

"Whoo-hooooo~!" She hollered, diving down again. She could hear her voice echo, and spiraled through the dark. The leaves were blurs of green until she swung onto the highest branch she could find. It was atop the tallest tree, the one creased with wrinkles of age and knowledge. From there she could see the whole forest and the faint lights of the cities beyond, so far her supernatural sight could only see colored spots. And above, she saw the moon, full and bright.

For a moment it felt like the moon was talking to her. It seemed as if its light bathed her beast form, called to her, whispered in her mind.

And then it was gone.

Mavis shook her head, blinking several times.

Nonsense. The moon did not talk.

The moon was just the moon.

Scanning the horizon, she glimpsed rooftops and streetlights. They gave of a kind of soft glow, illuminating the trees around in a kind of low orange color. She smiled, not hearing the human bustle she had envisioned but also not minding.

Okay Mavis, this is it. Humans are right over there. Real. Live. Humans!

She bit her lip anxiously, careful to not bite through her lip.

What if they were just like Dad said? What if they mobbed, grabbed pitchforks, and went after me? Or worse? Her stomach churned at the thought of garlic. She was quite allergic to it, not to mention it just taste flat out gross.

But…on the other hand…what if they were the opposite? What if they were nice, and didn't run around with torches looking for monsters and hiding under their beds? What if they…liked her?

Feeding off that thought, she stretched her wings and stared towards the little town.

Okay okay okay. I'm totally doing this, no backing out now. This is what I've been waiting for!

Three…..

Two…..

One….

Here I—

BOOM.

The ground shook. It rattled up the tree, almost toppling her off her perch. Mavis yelped in surprise and got a better grip, tearing her sight away from the town and towards the source of the explosion. To her left, far from the village, a cloud of white covered the trees. A couple had fallen over, and glistening like crystals. It was kind of…pretty.

But it was also the strangest thing she had ever seen. She should probably go back. Tell Dad. Get him to tell her what was wrong, as per usual. But she was 118 now. She took a deep breath and puffed out her chest, swooping towards the sight. The mist was already settling, and it was then she realized it was snow.

She had heard all about 'snow' from Uncle Wayne and Aunt Wanda. It was a light, cold substance. Frozen water which melted when you touched it. She had once played in snow when she was just a little girl, fifteen years old, but she hardly remembered. Since then it hadn't snowed, and she hadn't been allowed outside anyway.

Quickly she flew from branch to branch, letting the snow turn to water on her back and wings. It was an exhilarating feel, but she was more interested in the huge crater from which it came. Felled trees surrounded it, enveloped in what could only be ice. The cold wood had been crushed in a swirling motion, and in the middle of it lay a reindeer, a man, and two young women.

Her eyes widened.

"Humans."

Okay, so I completely changed this from my original draft. For sanity's sake I have removed a fourth party...Sooooo, what do yall think? Please Review, it really is a great ego boost. Ahem. I mean, it's really helpful. Also, I am accepting beta readers.

~U.A signing out.