Queen Elsa sat in front of the dying fire in her private study with an empty glass in hand. Outside she could hear the winds howling and see the snow falling heavily. Winter had come once more to remind her what she was capable of, to remind her of who she was inside. With a tired sigh she raised herself and walked to the bottle of scotch she kept in her study for times such as these.
Things had been wonderful in Arendelle since she had learned to control her powers. Anna and Kristoff had gotten married and now lived in the castle. The kingdom was thriving, trade with neighboring powers had grown exponentially, laws had been drafted to ensure that people were at least given the same chances at a successful life as any other. Overall, Arendelle had become a shining beacon of prosperity.
That is to all but its Queen herself. While her people gave her warm praises and certainly respected her as a leader, they were still fearful of her, like she would snap and become the monster they so desperately had thought she was. Elsa had done what she could to create the perfect place for her subjects.
'Perfect huh? Only for them. This place is suffocating me.' Queen Elsa thought as she sipped from her glass and stared out the window. 'Out there is the real world. Out there is the place I'm meant to rule.'
"Soon, it'll be time for me to leave. I've done what I can to ensure the kingdom's survival."
"You're really leaving then?"
Elsa jumped slightly when she heard her sister's voice coming from the doorway. Without looking Elsa tried to comfort her sister.
"You know these walls make me feel dead inside. I plan on addressing everyone at the feast. Soon, you, Kristoff and your child will be in charge of keeping the place running."
"Where will you go Elsa?"
Anna heard a soft chuckle from her sister. "In all honesty, I haven't given it any thought. I suspect I'll look into these dreams I've been having. Every night it's the same thing, a tall man with bone white hair, heavy armor that glows an ice blue. He walks down the steps of a massive citadel that's covered in ice. Every night I have this dream, and every night, he walks in battle as if he were Death itself."
"You said you stopped having that dream..."
"And for a time I did. It only comes during the winter months it seems. But I'm convinced these dreams mean something. If Arendelle is in someone's sights, I'd like to find out who and deal with them before they become a threat to our home."
Anna remained quiet for several minutes while she thought about her older sister said. If Elsa thought Arendelle was really facing some sort of invasion, it would be best to investigate. But when would this invasion happen? Thanks to their trade system and relations with other kingdoms, they knew most of the going-ons in the world and its leaders. The man that Elsa described was no one that she had ever seen or heard of.
Finally the redhead released an exasperated sigh as she turned away from her platinum blonde sister. "Do as you will, I know that nothing I say will change this. Good night Elsa."
'Good night Anna. Thank you for letting this go.' Elsa mused as she drank the last of the amber liquid in her glass. "Olaf."
"Yes Elsa?" Answered the animated snowman as he walked around the corner from Elsa's bedroom into her study.
"I need you to begin packing in the morning for me while I take care of all the...paperwork, truly awful stuff. It seems I will be leaving after all, and I want to be gone as soon as I make the announcement to the court. Once I'm gone, I want you to help Anna and Kristoff and look after the town."
On the snow covered continent of Northrend, Arthas Menthil walked through the blinding snow fall. His long bone white hair billowing behind him, and his armor glowing ice blue. As he walked through the wasteland of his home he began reflecting on the life he lived and all the people who had betrayed him. His first love, Jiana Proudmoore, hero of 'The Alliance'. Who had left him and his men in his time of need at Stratholme. Uther Lightbringer, Paladin of the now disbanded 'Order of the Silver Hand'. The list went on and on, all of it bringing him to his current scenario.
He was the Lich King, commander of an entire continents worth of undead soldiers and the most powerful Death Knight. He'd slaughtered his own father and the people of his kingdom, only to deny them the peace of death as he raised them as his undead minions. Ghouls, skeletons, banshees, demons, everything that was dead or worshiped dark powers was his to control.
'It's nearly time Arthas. She will be here soon.'
With Frostmourne in his right hand and resting over his shoulder, Arthas climbed up the stairs leading back to Icecrown Citadel, Kel'Thuzad waiting for him at the top. "Indeed, it is nearly time."
'She will be the most powerful of the Death Knights, second only to yourself.'
"We should prepare to receive our honored guest."