"I won't help you," said Grand Pabbie, and turned away.

Anna and Elsa had snuck out to the Troll Valley, to the one person – being – Anna could think of who could help them. She had insisted they bring Hans, so at the moment he was under a blanket, asleep, in the back of the modest wagon they had taken. Sven was in harness, the one animal comfortable with riding into that valley. Elsa had told Hans to relax, but he didn't remember how. Anna told him to go limp, and he soon fell asleep.

When they arrived, Anna asked Pabbie to help them, since she had the closest connection to Kristoff and thus to the trolls.

But Elsa stepped forward. "I'm the one to tell him what I've done. It's my responsibility." And she kneeled and told him about what she had done to Hans out of anger, then pleasure, then addiction. What had seemed so natural in the tiny dungeon had become shameful as she saw herself through Anna's eyes, and now that she was speaking it out loud she could see how dangerously corrupt she had become. She had confined the corruption to one small room and a single victim, but she was finding it hard to feel grateful for that.

She asked Pabbie to do for her what he had done for Anna, and extract this madness from her mind. In her nervousness she felt a sudden tug inside her, telling her to run to the cart, throw pretty boy back in his cage, and comfort herself with his pain and her pleasure. She could lose herself in having him please her, then watch him squirm as she abused him, and let that indulgence wash away the guilt and doubt. She didn't even have to wait to get back. She could bury his face under her dress as Sven took the wagon back to the castle's stables. Anna could walk.

She was a Queen and a Sorceress. She could do as she pleased.

But it had wounded her when she had been called a monster. She saw that she was becoming one, and she had to turn back.

And when she had finished her confession, Grand Pabbie had walked away from her.

Anna dashed around and stood in his path. "Not help her? Why not? Can't you see how important this is?"

"Indeed I can. This is dangerous and grave. But when I helped you as a child, you were a child, and you had been touched by magic. Magic did not bring her to this. This was not done to her. She is not a vulnerable child. Anna, this is human business, that you humans have brought on yourselves. It's nothing to do with us." He moved to step around her.

She shifted and blocked his path again. "What can we do?"

"You can learn to control your sister. Your sister can learn to control herself. You can learn to live with the consequences. Or you can ignore it and hope things don't get too far out of control. Whatever seems wise to you."

Anna sighed heavily. Just before she stepped out of his way she asked, "Could you at least do something for Hans? Could you help him? He's kind of…broken."

"I'll take a look." Pabbie climbed lightly into the cart and placed his hand on Hans' head, listening to what only he could hear. "Oh dear." He turned to Anna. "Are you sure you would want me to return him to who he was? The cunning liar and would-be murderer? Do you want that danger restored? Are you certain?"

"If that's what it means, yes."

"Your Majesty?"

Elsa stood up, paused for a moment. "Yes."

"I cannot help Hans. The shards of his mind are too broken and scattered to be gathered again. But I will help your sister, Anna. You have proven yourselves worthy."

She should've been grateful, but she was infuriated. "Really? All this was necessary? To prove ourselves to you? You couldn't just slap your hand on our foreheads and read our worthiness that way, and save us all some grief?"

And that's why Kristoff called her Feisty-Pants. "I'm not the only one who needs to know that you're worthy. Now, Elsa, come sit in the wagon. You're going to sleep, and I'd rather not have to lift you." They smiled weakly at each other as Elsa settled into the straw-lined cart.

"One moment," interrupted Anna. "Is there anything at all you can do for Hans?"

"Hans is dead. I can do something for this shell. I'll give you some herbs."

"What will they do?"

"They…are humane. He won't suffer."

Anna's shoulders sagged. "I see."

He turned back to Elsa. "I'll remove the memories, but not the lessons. You mustn't lose what you have learned about yourself and about your sister."

"My…" A flicker of surprise crossed her face as he placed his hand on her forehead. She slumped, and her breathing grew slow and regular.

A few days later, Queen Elsa was speaking with her advisors and with Anna, about the kingdom's affairs. "We have just a small bit of a scheduling problem," said the Councillor of the Exchequer. "A delegation arrives tomorrow from the Southern Isles to celebrate the normalization of diplomacy between our nations. Their king will be present. It's very important for trade, and it would be a breach of protocol if you, as our monarch, were not there."

"On the same day we receive representatives from Allemand," continued the Councillor of State. "There are border disputes, and rumours of war. It is potentially explosive."

"But you can't ignore a ruler to speak with mere diplomats."

"Or ignore the threat of war for ceremonies and trade treaties."

Elsa silenced them with a look. "I will meet with the delegation from the Southern Isles. Anna will negotiate with Allemand."

"Anna? With respect, Your Majesty – " said Exchequer.

"And with respect to the Princess – " said State.

"Let me tell you about the Princess Anna. One day we were out together, travelling through Troll Valley. I…" She became vague and uncertain. "I badly injured an animal. A fox, I think it was."

Anna hid her surprise. That never happened.

"Yes, a fox. I remember the colour of his…fur. And he was cunning. A fox. It was carelessness on my part. Nothing could be done for him. But as I sat and watched, it was Anna who had the strength to put him down." She sat up straight, and the clarity came back to her eyes. "Do not mistake compassion for weakness, gentlemen. Compassion does what needs to be done. Anna will speak for us."

Thank you, Pabbie, thought Anna.

After the meeting, Anna took her sister to a small reading room off the royal library. When they were inside she lit the swag lamps and closed the leather-upholstered door.

"Anna, what are we doing here? This was Papa's quiet room." And true to its name, the thick door and heavy tapestries deadened any sound entering or leaving.

"I want it to be our room now. We've been through a lot in our lives, you and I, and we have responsibilities ahead of us. Pressures to face."

Elsa sat in the armchair, and gestured for Anna to sit on the chaise longue. She smiled indulgently at her younger sister. "Anna! I've never seen you so serious. Are you well?"

"You respected me out there. Thank you. I need you to respect me in here, too, for at least a minute."

Indulgence was replaced by curiosity. "Of course. What is it?"

"We need a place to talk. Someplace private, where we can share the thoughts and feelings we don't want others to see, that make us feel guilty or ashamed or scared."

Elsa sat back pensively. "We had a fight about this. Not too long ago. I can't remember where."

"Exactly. I don't want it to come to that again. I think you need a place to come when you're bored, or cranky, or restless, where we can talk things out. No secrets. Where we can say anything, without shame or judgement. Or do anything. And what is said and done in here stays here."

Elsa felt the ghosts of memories brush against her mind. "A small, closed room. Private. Where I can take the thoughts and feelings that cannot live anywhere else." She felt ashamed, and excited, but she couldn't say why. "I think that would be a good idea. In fact, there was something you said during that fight. Why can't I remember where we were? Not important. Something about your being angry at Papa. I wanted to say you're not alone."

That first conversation went on for nearly an hour, but from outside the room no one could hear the shouting, crying, or laughter.

Late that night Anna slipped into the wine cellar, undid the new latch that Elsa didn't know about, and entered the little dungeon. She was glad Elsa's false memory hadn't actually happened. She wasn't sure she could put down an animal like that in real life.

"Mama Anna! Is Mama Elsa coming?" said Hans, or what was left of him.

"No, pretty boy. I told you before. She won't be coming again."

"I was supposed to make Mama happy. Was I bad?"

"She's happy enough that she doesn't need to come down here anymore." She put the tray of scraps in his cell. The door was left unlocked, but it didn't make a difference. Anna also carried an apple and a dinner roll. She took a small bite out of each, and tossed them on his tray. "I'm full. Take care of those." He wouldn't eat them unless they were "scraps".

"Thank you, Mama Anna. Thank you."

She watched him eat, and thought about how he was when they met. With a chuckle she realized that he had finally become what he had pretended to be: utterly devoted and dedicated to her. And still handsome. In the less-tattered clothes she had snuck down to him, he was just as attractive as ever. Maybe more so, now that his face had lost that hint of predatory sharpness. Maybe less so, because it was replaced by an uncanny blankness.

Without Elsa's presence, the automaton Little Shadow had melted away. Anna had replaced it with a sort of stuffed scarecrow. It kept pretty boy calm. The flurry in the corner of the cell seemed permanent, thought. It provided a stockpile of snow for Hans-that-was to slake his thirst, and to wash and wipe himself. Other than that, the ice and frost had retreated.

For a broken shell, pretty boy could be relaxing to be around. Not like Kristoff. Not today, anyway. That morning Kristoff and Anna had fought about whether she took his job seriously. She couldn't go with him on his delivery because she had important responsibilities as Princess. Kristoff had said, "You give a normal woman a choice between a block of ice to keep her food fresh or an export treaty, she's not going to choose a piece of paper and spoiled food."

"So I'm not normal, am I?" she had answered, and things went downhill from there. Kristoff had left on his delivery and wouldn't be hurrying back. But she had been right, after all. If she went with Kristoff she would've missed the meeting, and then who would negotiate with Allemand?

"So Mama Elsa is happy?" Anna came back to the present.

"Happy enough."

"Is Mama Anna happy?"

As he kneeled before her, she ran her fingers through his thick hair, and felt the softness of his handsome face. Then she slapped him hard across the cheek, the sound making the room ring like a chime.

"Honestly, Mama Anna is feeling a little restless."