Chapter One

Note: Crossover with The Princess and the Frog. The two chapters of this story were inspired by prompts given to me on Tumblr. A few nights back when I was lying in bed, weighed down by melancholy, the germ of inspiration grew and the story fleshed itself out in my mind's eye. I know it is bleak, but I hope it is fitting for Halloween.

Please review. Tell me what you think of it, how it affects you.

He likes to think of himself as a puppet master.

He lounges, gazes over the sprawl of the city in miniature, and fancies himself in control.

But he's as much a pawn in their game as anyone.

He knows them capable of many things, but he does know all the things within their power…

When they begin to whisper to him of a distant past, he frowns at first.

Their whispers turn to rumbles.

His frown turns topsy-turvy to a sniveling grin, and like a good lapdog, he cocks an ear…


At first, Elsa thinks she is imagining it.

In those moments when she has stolen away from everyone… alone with her thoughts in a crimson hallway, long as a scuttling centipede and narrow as a coffin… alone in the Portrait Room and gazing at two young lovers amid the flowers, her heart bleeding with guilt, the queen thinks she catches something out of the corner of her eye.

It is imagination, nothing more.

Guilt is bred of sin… guilt and dread and fear… She dreads the exposure of the sin in her heart and so she imagines eyes watching her.

Luminous, glowing eyes…

She imagines figures following her, but their footfalls are silent and when she wheels to face them, sees only her own shadow…

Did her shadow just twitch?

It surely did, for she did. Spasms come from fear.

She thinks of Anna, her hauntingly beautiful sister.

She was the light of Elsa's life, but the young queen could find no solace in that light. The sin in her heart made sure that she could gain no warmth and radiance from the thought of Anna – for with the thought of Anna came longings…

Lustful longings…

Longings a sister should never have…

Longings that repulsed Elsa, but were hers alone to claim…

Self-disgust ripples through Elsa – and as it does, a ripple passes through her shadow…

And in that ripple, it is almost as if…

Elsa's eyes widen.

Another's shadow stalks her own.

She turns and for the first time, she sees him there, grinning like a cocksure youth who descends from the rigging of a ship just arrived in Arendelle…

His violet eyes good-naturedly a-twinkle… and yet there is something underneath…

She brushes it from her mind.


He surveys her – this queen from another age, this prize already on the brink of damnation, who certainly doesn't know what to make of him.

He keeps grinning smugly. "Royalty, eh? You know, I'm a royal myself on my mother's side…"