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In the Grip of the Snow Queen	By : wannablessedbe Category: +1 through F > Frozen Views: 14882 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I do not own Frozen or any of the characters therein. I make no money off this it's just a hobby for fun.

Chapter List
- 1-Beware the Frozen Heart
- 1
Alternate Universe Fic: This story takes some liberties with the plot of Frozen, including several things that are blatantly different from the movie.
1. Elsa and Anna have a far more antagonistic and adversarial relationship than in the film, similar to the one exemplified in the deleted song “Life’s Too Short”. Elsa resented Anna’s freedom, Anna resented the sheer amount of time and energy her parents devoted to Elsa.
2. Elsa’s coronation happens on her 18^th birthday, not her 21^st. King Agnarr and Queen Iduna had still been dead for 3 years by that point though, meaning they died when Elsa was 15 and Anna merely 12. This also means that during the events of the movie/story, Anna is 15 and Elsa is, as mentioned, 18.
3. Though they never show one in the movie, there HAD to have been a Regent on the throne between Agnarr’s death and Elsa’s ascension. In my head-canon, he was some distant cousin of Iduna’s, chosen more for his relationship to the bloodline than any actual ability, and the only reason Arendelle was never invaded during the Regency is because of ancient treaties with some neighbours keeping other neighbours at bay.
4. Last, but certainly not least, Hans’ assault on the Ice Palace happened BEFORE Anna got there, so instead of being gutted by the events during “For The First Time In Forever (Reprise)” and fighting a rather ineffectual defensive fight, Elsa is still full of herself and mops the floor with them. Our story opens with Anna’s arrival at the Ice Palace.
Chapter 1: Beware the Frozen Heart

      The palace was simply beautiful, the sort of thing for which words like “Awesome” and “Majestic” had been created. Anna, Sven and Kristoff were forced to pause at the foot of the stairwell to the immense double doors leading into the place, just staring at it in wonder for several moments, while Olaf blundered ahead, oblivious.
      “Now that’s ice,” breathed Kristoff, “I may cry.”
      “Go ahead,” replied Anna, heading forward to follow the snowman up the stairs, “I won’t judge.”
      With that, she mounted the stairs, followed instantly by Sven. Sadly, the reindeer was far too large and clumsy, and the stairs too smooth and slick, for him to gain any traction, and after a few ridiculous seconds Kristoff was forced to intervene, leading him back down to the snow bank and murmuring reassurances before moving to follow the others.
      At the top of the stairs, Anna paused, hand raised, ready to knock on the door, but she hesitated.
      “Knock,” insisted Olaf, then after a pause, “Just knock.” As an aside to Kristoff, “Why isn’t she knocking? Do you think she knows how to knock?”
Before Kristoff could reply, the young redhead’s mitten-covered knuckles finally made contact with the smooth blue ice of the door. She rapped twice, and on the third impact the door swung open with the soft creak of snow on tree branches.
“Huh, it opened,” she murmured to herself, “That’s a first.” She seemed to realize something, and turned to her companions, “Oh! You… should probably wait out here.”
“What?!” Kristoff replied, startled.
“Last time I introduced her to a guy she froze everything,” she said sheepishly, ignoring the vast difference in circumstances between then and now.
“But,” sputtered the indignant young man. “Oh come on! It’s a palace made of ice! Ice is my life!”
“Bye Sven!” shouted the animate snowman as he started to waddle through the door.
Before he could make it very far, Anna stopped him, kneeling as she took his wooden “hand” in hers. “You too, Olaf.”
“Me?”
      “Just… give us a minute,” assured the princess.
“Okay,” replied Olaf, turning away from the door to sit on the steps, beginning to count quietly to himself, “One. Two.”
No member of the trio noticed that the doors swung shut once Anna was through them, their motion far quieter than when they had opened. Anna was once again awestruck, eyes wide and mouth agape at the sight of the raw, elemental beauty surrounding her: The frozen fountain, the sweeping staircases leading up to another set of doors. The… blood… on the railings? Mounting the stairs rapidly, she rushed up them as quickly as their slickness would allow, noting more bits of red here and there, frozen to the surfaces. None of them noticed as the huge entry portal froze quietly shut, locking out Olaf, Sven and Kristoff and trapping Anna within.
At the top of the stairs, the inner pair of doors swung open, revealing an opulent crystalline throne room. Unlike the outer chamber, this room was far less pristine, showing obvious signs of recent violence. At the top of the dais, in a throne whose beauty was matched only by its occupant, Elsa sat, watching the younger royal creep through the doors. A soft clearing of her throat drew the redhead’s attention to her sister and away from the room’s battle scars. Once Anna crossed the threshold, the doors swung closed again, with a loud crystalline tolling like a bell.
“Come to finish the job yourself, dear sister?” cooed the monarch, eyes narrowed.
Edging closer, Anna could see that her sister had been injured… no, that wasn’t the right word. She had been wounded. A gash on her right cheek still seeped blood, while her bright blue gown was marked here and there with red. Elsa rose from the throne to tower over her younger sister, blue eyes narrowed dangerously, her blonde hair in disarray around her face. An abrupt gesture and a flare of magic flew over the girl’s head to strike the door behind her, reinforcing it with a solid sheet of ice at least a foot thick.
“Fi-finish what j-job,” squeaked Anna, her voice and body quivering for reasons far beyond simple cold. “Wh-what happened to you, Elsa?” Her eyes slid briefly around the room, noting now the several jagged ice formations that littered the floor, some of the spikes having bright red blood frozen into them.
“I’ll thank you to address me properly, Princess Anna.” The venomous emphasis the queen put on Anna’s title made it sound like an insult most foul. “Or were you expecting to be hailed as Queen by your loyal subjects when you arrived?”
Tears began to roll down the redhead’s cheeks as she stared up at this woman who used to be her beloved sister. “I… I don’t know what you’re talking about, Your… Your Majesty…” She choked on the words, words she’d never spoken to anyone before; their father had always insisted they call him ‘papa’. “What subj-“ she broke off suddenly as her eyes suddenly found something she recognized… and dearly wished she hadn’t. There, at the foot of the throne was her beloved Hans, or what was left of him. His sword raised as if to deflect a blow, a look of murderous hatred mingled with deadly fear in his ‘dreamy’ green eyes, he had been encased in ice as thoroughly as the throne-room door had. A solid cube containing his entire unmoving body.
Noting where Anna was looking, Elsa sneered, “Yes, dear sister, your coup has failed.” Even in her rage, Elsa’s voice was beautiful, majestic and melodious. “The rest of your troops didn’t fare much better, but this is the one who mattered, no?”
“NO!” Anna cried out, though what exactly she was denying wasn’t clear as she threw herself at the feet of the frozen Prince. Her tears redoubled their flow as she sobbed bitterly, brokenly, pressing her hands against the ice as though she could somehow will it to melt.
The Snow Queen slowly descended the stairs from the throne dais to the floor, another gesture transforming her dress yet again, restoring it from its damaged state and deepening its blue hue. The wound on her cheek froze sealed at the same time, a pale blue scar all that remained of it.
By the time Elsa reached the floor, Anna knew what she had to do. This… this monster… this ice-hearted witch wasn’t her sister, she couldn’t be. Whatever power flowed through her veins had clearly frozen her soul as thoroughly as it had frozen the fjord. Her eyes found the prince’s main-gauche, discarded on the floor nearby, likely lost during the battle.
As soon as the queen’s leading foot hit the floor, Anna acted. She scooped up the sturdy parrying dagger and launched it with well-honed accuracy straight at the heart of the monster wearing her sister’s skin. The blade hurtled through the air, point-first… and embedded itself into a wall of ice that sprung up between the two women.
Stepping around the abruptly-conjured barrier, Elsa’s eyes glittered with amusement and fury. “So it comes to this, does it your highness?” Again, the familiar term of address twisted into a vile insult as the Snow Queen spit it at her. Another wave of the blonde’s hand and a wind whipped up, swirling around Anna. The whirlwind picked the slender redhead up off the floor, hanging her suspended and helpless, her feet several inches off the ice of the floor. “First, you give away your purity to the first man to show a glimmer of interest in you.” Elsa held up her left hand, the index finger raised. Her middle finger joined it as she continued to count off Anna’s ‘crimes’. “Then, you interrupt my coronation ball to insist you be allowed to marry the upstart.” A third finger raised, “You drive me out of my own court and rally the kingdom against me, appointing your would-be consort as your regent!” And a fourth finger, “And then you send him to assassinate me and clear your path to the throne, following along behind to finish the job yourself if he doesn’t, quite, measure up?”
“No! Oh God no, Elsa… I muh-mean Your muh-muh-Majesty! None of that is true!” Anna continued to blubber as she felt her body growing colder by the second. “Well, I guess… the… I guess I did interrupt… but… I never… with him… I would never… not unwed… and I never rallied anyone or sent anyone to kill you! He was still in Arendelle when I left to come find you! This had to have been his idea! Or… the Duke! The Duke of Weaseltown! He could be behind it!” The redhead found herself clutching at straws, trying to find anything to say to appease her sister, or the ice demoness who had stolen her form. She was only fifteen, she was too young to die… wasn’t she?
Queen Elsa paused a moment, considering. On the one hand, she knew someone had to have orchestrated this, but on the other hand she was certain her baby sister was far too simple and self-involved to have come up with this on her own. No… no, the more she thought about it, watching Anna dangle helplessly in her grasp, sobbing uselessly, the more she became certain that Hans and the Duke of Weselton were the true brains behind this coup attempt, her sister merely a pawn in their schemes. Still, pawn or mastermind, the Snow Queen could hardly let any of the perpetrators go unpunished, could she? Of course not.
Finally reaching a decision, Elsa waved her hand at her sister again, and Anna felt her wrists and ankles burn with cold. Glancing down, she saw she was now wearing shackles made of ice. Chains grew from shackle-to shackle, binding wrist to wrist and ankle to ankle. The chains were delicate, thin, almost like filigree, but Anna knew they were stronger than they appeared, though that didn’t stop her from pulling her wrists apart in a futile attempt to break the chain between them. She found herself lowered back to the floor as a new binding formed – this one around her delicate throat. As before a chain grew from the icy collar to reach the queen’s hand.
“Come along,” the queen commanded contemptuously. “I’ll work out what to do about you once I’ve taken care of the Duke and Our disloyal subjects.” Anna shuddered involuntarily as her sister adopted the Royal Plural, another habit their father had disdained.
The younger sister found herself led down a stairwell that seemed to form itself as Elsa walked down it, deep into the heart of the mountain, the Queen’s powers hollowing out a chamber as she went. Before long, she had herself a serviceable dungeon, half a dozen small cells, just barely large enough for an adult to lie down in. Elsa shoved Anna roughly through the door of the farthest cell and closed the door, which froze in place, the hinges and gaps closing up to make it an unbroken wall. The bars of ice might as well have been bars of steel but for their beauty. Finally, the chain connecting to Anna’s neck was pressed against the centermost bar, merging with it more seamlessly than any weld. She realized that, as short as the chain had become, she’d never be able to lie down… she’d barely be able to kneel without strangling herself.
“Please… Elsa… sis-sister… queen… I… this is all… so many misunderstandings… just… let me go… please? We-we can walk down this mountain together. Please don’t leave me here.” Her tears resumed, but this time they froze to her cheeks almost as soon as they were released, forming long stringers of ice down her face. “Please, dear God… please don’t leave me alone here. I’ll f-freeze to death!” Indeed, her teeth were already beginning to chatter and her body trembled.
“Oh, no, my dear Princess. That is the one thing you shall never do.” Elsa leaned in, placing her face between the bars. “No matter how cold you become, you will never, ever be permitted to die of it.” She smiled a vicious, humourless smile as she stepped back. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I have a throne to re-secure and a would-be usurper to execute.” And with that, the Queen swept her way up the stairs, leaving her sister to sob brokenly in the dark, for the only light had come with the Queen and gone with her as well.
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In the Grip of the Snow Queen