DISCLAIMER: All of the places and characters in this story belong to Disney and are inspired by the work of Hans Christian Andersen. No profit is being made from this story. It only serves to (hopefully) entertain. Additionally, the title of this story is borrowed from the Switchfoot song of the same name.

Rated T for language and some sensuality.

-Dare You to Move-

Chapter One

It began as nothing more than a block of spruce, solid and smooth and tan, laced with subtle grains and only a couple dark knots. It had since been altered by Kristoff. He'd spent the past couple of weeks running his knife through it, curving it, puncturing it, shaping it. The clean, soothing scent of pine and winter wafted from the wood with each stroke of the blade, and the figure was finally beginning to take form, finally resembling something recognizable.

He wanted to stop, yet he kept going. He wasn't sure why. It's not as if Anna would ever see the finished product. Hell, even if she did, it's not as if she'd actually like it. Sure, she'd pretend to for the sake of his feelings, but Kristoff knew better. Anna was a princess, and princesses had no use for wood carvings. She was used to better, deserved better.

As Kristoff continued to carve, he blew the wooden shavings that fell from the block into his cabin's tiny fireplace. The shavings were engulfed by the flames, quickly giving in and bunching up before they greyed and turned to dust. Part of him wanted to know what would happen if he chucked the whole damn carving into the fire. How long would it take for it to disintegrate into nothing? It already felt like nothing, so surely it wouldn't take long for that to become reality.

He nearly tested the theory, but decided against it. Worthless or not, the wood was something to carve, and carving was therapeutic. It was one of few things he was good at.

But as the pattern became clear, he chucked both the carving and his knife to the side. It reminded him too much of Anna, and he missed her. He just wanted to forget.

He could've gone back; Kristoff knew that. Anna never asked him to leave. He'd done that on his own accord. Perhaps it had been selfish, and maybe a bit abrupt, but he had no choice. It was either stop it now or drag it out until the inevitable happened. Better get out before she had the chance to break his heart, he'd thought.

And she would break his heart, because in the end, when push came to shove, Anna would never choose him. Who would? He was a cranky, miserable person who smelled funny and spent all his time with a reindeer. He lived in a tiny, two-room cabin that he'd built a few months ago on land only acquired through the generosity of Queen Elsa. He worked all the time and had practically nothing to show for it. He was too big, too clumsy, too Kristoff.

So what if they had fun together? So what if he made her smile, made her laugh? That's what friends do, and that, he was certain, was something Anna would always see him as: a friend. But that wasn't enough for him. It never would be because he, Kristoff Bjorgman, was in love with the princess.

And ever since that single moment when he realized like had become love, he relentlessly worried about the day she'd announce her engagement to someone wealthier, someone royal, someone worthy. He'd attended several gatherings at the palace with Anna over the past couple of months. She was oblivious to the way every single bachelor sought her hand, and it was only a matter of time before one of them truly caught her eye and Kristoff would become nothing more than the dear friend who helped her that one time.

Since the Great Thaw, Anna had blushed whenever they were together. They'd kissed and snuggled beneath trees dancing in the wind. She'd held his hand as she'd excitedly pulled him from shop to shop in the square. But Kristoff knew it wouldn't last. It couldn't last. He had no claim over her, and she'd eventually find the one she truly belonged with.

As much as it had pained him to do so, Kristoff left the palace for good after the last party he attended. It had been a Yuletide gala, and the ballroom had been garnished from floor to ceiling in Christmas cheer, both in décor and in spirit. Anna had worn an evergreen dress that night; beautiful, as always.

He'd told her he had to leave because he had to head to the mountains early the next morning. It had been partially true; while work did await him at sunrise, he'd really just wanted to go out on a high note. Kristoff had enjoyed spending the last few months with the princess – loved it, actually, - and he didn't want to tarnish what they shared because of his stupid feelings. He left knowing that she'd eventually find her prince, her real prince, just like she'd always wanted.

That had been a week ago. Kristoff wondered if Anna even thought about him or where he'd run off to. Did she even miss him? Or, worse, did she not even notice he hadn't been around?

You idiot, Kristoff thought. Remember how much easier it was when you hated everyone? You were never in pain. Your heart never cried. But you just had to let her in, didn't you? Now look at yourself, you stupid, stupid fool.

The kettle hovering over the fire began to steam, whistling slightly as it did so, and Kristoff leaned forward to lift it off the steel hook nailed into the bricks. At first, he didn't notice the unusual sound just outside the cabin; it was a windy night, after all, and there were never people screaming for help at this time of evening, much less this deep into the woods. It had to have been just a trick of the senses.

But there it was again: a terrified cry. A young woman's voice. A familiar young woman's voice.

No, it couldn't be his name he was hearing... could it?

"Kristoff! Kristoff, help! Kristoff!"

He shook his head. I'm losing my damn mind, he thought. Nonetheless, Kristoff heaved himself off his chair and nonchalantly strolled over to the small window beside the door.

After wiping away the frost that accumulated on the glass over the past few frigid nights, Kristoff saw that the land outside his window looked perfectly normal. The ground was still covered in fresh, powdery snow, as were the giant spruce trees surrounding the clearing. The stack of logs he'd cut earlier was still there, his axe lodged in a thick slab of wood.

What was different was the panicked horse. And the footprints. And the skid mark on the slight slope near the frozen pond. And the hole in said frozen pond.

And in that gap in the ice, bobbing around and flailing her arms, was Anna.

For a millisecond, Kristoff wanted to smile at the sight of her. After all, he hadn't seen her for a whole week, and he'd missed her so much, and she even when she was drowning, she looked beautiful.

Oh my god, she's drowning!

"ANNA!"

Author's Note: Thanks for reading! Hope to see you soon for Chapter Two! :)