The cold never bothered me anyway

Elsa the snow queen has now been accepted by her kingdom but she soon realizes that the love she thought could keep her curse under control is now beginning to get out of control once again. Trying to find the answers might prove to be difficult, but Elsa is determined more then ever. How will she find true love? Is there a way? The only thing to help her is a small scroll that her parents had left inside the golden scepter, and the only thing that the scroll says is "Jack Frost" (c)o copyrighted by ☃Olaf Productions☃ A Fan-Fiction of Elsa the snow queen and Jack Frost in a modernized version. This is my first story so any feedback would be appreciated.


6. Footsteps

The smell of pine and smoke filled the air. Looking around myself, I now saw that I was back inside the castle. I heard a voice singing a soft, sweet song echoing from somewhere close. I was standing in the room where a fireplace was lit. It looked familiar but also unfamiliar at the same time. The floor was covered with boxes and baskets with pink ribbons and sashes. A birthday perhaps? Walking stealthily around the items, I passed the crackling fire and went towards the door. The singing was still ongoing and felt unsettling whilst listening to it. Curious to see who would be singing at this time of night, I squeezed past the last few presents and pushed through the door. As I entered the hall I turned left. I heard another voice this time but it was not singing. It sounded like whoever was making the noise was in a lot of pain. Worrying about what could be going on, I began to run at full pelt. I kept turning my head left and then right so that I would make sure that I wouldn’t miss the door. Just as I was about to reach the stairs, I halted at the third door from the stairs. Bright light leaked through the seam of the door. Walking slowly up to the door, I placed my hand on the doorhandle. Turning the handle slowly to the right I heard a faint click of the door unlocking. Pushing the door open, I stopped halfway. My eyes widened and I felt my jaw slightly open and hang in it’s place. A young lady with long brown hair was cradling a baby. The room was gloomy due to the lack of light emitting from the single candle stand perched next to the bed. The woman sniffled a little before continuing.


“Not a footprint to be seen. A kingdom of isolation, and it looks like im the queen.

Don’t let them in, don’t let them see, be the good girl you always have to be.”


“Conceal, don’t feel, don’t let them know…”


The lady choked up again before sobbing. The baby began to cry again.


The lady sat down on the bed. Removing one hand from underneath the baby, she placed her forehand on the baby’s cheek. Stroking the baby’s cheek gently, she continued humming the song.


Standing at the door stiff, I couldn’t move an inch of a muscle. I didn’t understand what was happening but the only thing that I was most certain of was that I had came up with the exact same song in the mountains. I didn’t know why I reacted in the way that I did but something about the woman seemed familiar. She reminded me of myself in a sense. Her hair was braided in a similar fashion mine was and her clothes were of the same style that I wore daily. Feeling confused, yet intrigued I realised that I hadn’t looked at the lady’s face. The lady was now rocking her child and humming the song. Abruptly stopping, the lady began loudly sobbing.


“Please forgive your mother Elsa” the lady sobbed.


Elsa? What did she mean by Elsa…


As the lady lifted her face up towards the ceiling I felt my heart stop. It was my mother. She looked like she was a few years older then me but her eyes looked tired and aged. Mother continued to look up at the ceiling. Tears ran down her cheeks before falling off the arch of her chin.


“Please” mother begged.


I felt my eyes begin to sting. I wanted to comfort her but my body wouldn’t allow it. Watching my mother cry was something that I had never seen her do whilst she was alive. When my mother was alive, she would scarcely shown affection or love. But this young mother was different. The way her eyes were puffing from sadness and the way that her body was trembling from crying made this version of my mother look more real.


“It’s going to be a big day tomorrow” mother said abruptly.


Hugging the baby tightly to her bosom, mother then stood up before making her way to the candle stand.


“Goodnight Elsa”





The first thing I felt was sticky and damp. Letting out a sigh, I felt my throat immediately burn. Coughing lightly, I felt my chest tighten and loosen.


“Pebbie she’s awake” I heard a voice nearby whisper.


Im pretty sure that voice belonged to…

”Bulda” I rasped


The next thing I heard was something hit the ground. The sound of scampering feet followed closely before hearing


“Pebbie get over here, Elsa’s awake” Bulda practically screamed.


Raising my hands to my face, I lightly brushed my fingers up the bridge of my nose only to feel bandages covering my eyes. The sound of scampering feet doubled and amplified. Why wasn’t Bulda answering me? I suddenly started to feel panic.


“What’s this” I croaked whilst grabbing the ends of the bandage.


“Don’t touch that just yet dear, you’ve been through a lot as it is” a voice replied.


I lay there for a few moments letting my hands hang in mid-air. Slowly lowering my hands back down, I let out a little sob. Then after that sob another one followed. I felt the bandage begin to soak up my tears before breaking down.


“Pebbie” I cried amongst the sobs

“What’s happened to me?”


“You’ve been unconscious for a month Elsa” Pebbie replied


“Everything will be alright” I heard Bulda cry.


I felt her little hands grab hold of mine and let out a sob. Her tiny hands were quivering as she firmly held unto mine.


“Im sorry Elsa” Bulda blubbered.


“It’s no ones fault” I said whilst sniffing.


At least that’s what I wanted to think. I knew it wasn’t Bulda’s fault but the dreams and somewhat “visions” that I had been having lately made me feel like I had something to solve. Feeling like I had better start off somewhere, I seized my crying as quickly as my heart would let me before clearing my throat.


“What happened to my mother?” I asked.


Bulda’s sniffling stopped as soon as I finished the question. Even though I could not see, I knew that Pebbie and Bulda were most likely sharing the same expression


“What do you mean, Elsa” Pebbie asked.


Clearing my throat, I began to let the dream sink in. Even though it was a dream, it felt like it had actually happened. It was too real to be a dream. The singing, the baby, the presents. All of which lead up to my mum rocking a baby while crying. A crying baby who had my name. I took in a little breath before letting the question loose.



“Why was my mum crying when I was born?”.

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