A/N: So here is my "sequel" to Once upon a time in Arendelle. My plan is a series of short stories, but I'll break those into chapters because I am just not patient enough to write the whole damn thing at one. For those who might possibly be new to this premise, it's probably easier if you read Once upon a time ...

Family Matters

Fitzwilliam wasn't sure what noise woke her up, but the next thing she heard was someone jiggling the door handle. It wouldn't be a servant. It was the middle of the night, and they would knock until Elsa answered them even if it were an emergency.

"Elsa," she gently shook the sleeping body next to her.

"Mmmm, not time yet. Go asleep," Elsa muttered batting away her hand. The queen was not someone notably easy to waken.

Still there was an important question that needed answering, this time the shake was not so gentle. "Elsa, Elsa – did you lock the door?"

"Mmmm uh … too early. Go 'way."

Anna would knock too since she knew Fitzwilliam was staying the night. She had learned that lesson. Well, they had all learned that lesson, which was why Fitz hoped the door was locked. It was true that right now they were actually just sleeping, but still ... she waited and covered herself up fully with the sheet just in case.

The door handle jiggled again, but the door didn't open. Fitzwilliam sighed in relief and relaxed. She was settling in to wrap herself around the sleeping queen when she heard another noise. Someone was picking the lock.

Instantly Fitzwilliam was wide awake. She slid out of bed and grabbed her sword from where it stood near the bed, unsheathing it in one smooth motion.

The lock clicked as she crouched on the side of the door that would be opened first, her weapon poised. After she gutted this intruder she was going to have a long pointed conversation with the queen's guard about their duties.

The door opened.

Fitzwilliam thrust forward expecting to meet the resistance of clothing and flesh. She almost toppled over when her sword swished through … nothing. Her hand slammed into something cold.

"Oh look at that. I've been impaled. Again." This was not the reaction Fitzwilliam had been expecting.

She looked down to where the voice was coming from. In the dim light from the window she saw something … moving. It was small. Bloody hell! A child! she thought irrationally. Please don't let it be a child. Then whatever it was backed up off her sword, apparently none the worse for wear, and walked through a shaft of light into the room. It was … a snowman? Holding a carrot in its hand? With a cloud over its head? A cloud that was snowing?

"Hi, I'm Olaf, and I like warm hugs." The thing stuck the carrot back in its face and extended two twig arms at her.

"Elsaaaa!" she bellowed.

"What, what, what?!" Elsa sat bolt upright and looked frantically around the room, little snowflakes flying from her fingertips.

Olaf, however, continued on his original mission. "And you are?" He politely asked Fitzwilliam as if being being impaled in the middle of the night was a routine occurrence.

Through her muddled panic Elsa heard the familiar voice. It only took her a moment to place it. "Olaf?" she asked as she pulled the sheet up.

"No, I'm Olaf ..." the snowman pointed at himself and then looked at Fitzwilliam who had backed up to the bed and was groping unsuccessfully for her dressing gown. She had sheathed her sword, but her eyes were still locked on him. "Unless your name is Olaf, too? That would be kind of confusing, though," Olaf supposed.

"Olaf, would you please just give us a minute?" Elsa asked the snowman.

"Sure," he said with a nod and began counting, his eyes vaguely pointed at the ceiling. "One, two, three ..."

"Outside my bedroom, please."

"Oh, OK." He trundled out.

"What in bloody hell is that?" Fitzwilliam turned to Elsa, her eyes wide.

"Calm down and put something on," Elsa threw Fitz a sleeping shirt and got out of bed, slipping into her robe. She seemed remarkably unruffled for someone whose bedroom had just been invaded by animate snow.

Fitzwilliam was decidely ruffled. "That was a talking snowman? It was talking … and walking. With a snow cloud over its head!"

"That's Olaf." Elsa lit a candle.

"The talking snowman."

"Anna and I made him as kids … well him I made, but … it's complicated." She walked over and then lit a lamp on the dresser.

"It's alive?"

"Yes ..." Elsa shrugged apologetically, "I mean, I think so. He seems to be … right?"

"Sixty!" The snowman burst back through the door, as enthusiastic as a child. "Now, let's try that again." He waddled up to Fitzwilliam. "Hi, I'm Olaf, and I like warm hugs."

"Hello," she said warily, ignoring his outstretched arms.

"And you are … also Olaf?" he said gesturing for her to continue the conversation.

Elsa answered for her. "Olaf, that's …. call her Fitz. And didn't we discuss knocking before you come into my bedroom?"

"I knocked," he said with conviction.

"And waiting to be invited in?"

"Ooooh, I knew there was something else." He nodded as if now that made all the sense in the world. "But the door was locked. You never lock your door, Anna said so."

"Olaf." Elsa explained as if she were talking to a six-year-old, which apparently she was. "When I have my door locked it means I don't want anyone to just come in."

"But," he pointed his twig arm at Fitz. "She's in here."

"Well, yes ..." Elsa looked at Fitz for help.

Who just sat back on the bed and crossed her arms. "Oh, no. I'll wait for you to explain this one, honey."

Elsa decided, like most parents, that ignoring the question was the best tactic. "Olaf. It's the middle of the night. Is there something in particular you wanted?"

"I missed you," he said in a little voice.

Elsa's heart turned to mush, and she found herself with a bit of a lump in her throat. She crossed over to him and knelt down to his height. "And I missed you, too, little guy."

He trundled over to Elsa's open arms, and she gave him a big hug. It had been several weeks since he had been here at the castle. She, and, well, everyone else she had asked, had decided that a walking, talking snowman was probably not the best addition to her rather public birthday celebration. But she still felt more than a little guilty about sending him up to visit his "brother" at the ice palace for such an extended time. She felt she needed to make it up to him. And really, there was only one way to do that. "But you know what? Tomorrow, we can spend the whole day together, how about that?"

"The whole day?" His eyes lit up and he clapped his twigs together. "That's wonderful!"

The expression on Fitzwilliam's face was giving off a distinct impression of 'that's really not so wonderful.'

"So," Elsa gave Olaf a gentle push back to the door, "How about you let me go back to sleep, and I'll see you at breakfast."

"OK. I'll go see if Sven's up. I haven't talked to Sven in a long time." He looked over at Fitz and jerked his head toward the door. "Why don't you come with me to see Sven?"

"That's OK. Thanks for the offer, but I think I'll just stay right here," Fitz managed to answer. She was having a conversation. With a snowman. With a snowstorm over its head.

The snowman came over to her and whispered loudly, "I think Elsa wants to be alone. She had her door locked."

"Yeah, about that," she glanced over where Elsa was making frantic hand signals that clearly said, 'you're not going there.' "I don't think I'm … up for seeing Sven tonight. But thanks for the heads up on Elsa. I'll make sure I'm not disturbing her."

That seemed to satisfy Olaf and he nodded, "OK," and headed out the door.

Once the door was shut, Fitz leapt over to it and locked it again. Elsa turned off the lamp and then blew out the candle before she got out of her robe and back into bed, as if nothing had happened, as if this situation were absolutely mundane. Fitz sat down on the edge of the bed and got undressed thoroughly convinced both that something had indeed happened,and that it was not mundane.

"It's alive," she said.

"Yes," yawned Elsa, settling her head on to her pillow.

"It has a snowstorm over its head."

"Not a snowstorm, really, just a flurry. Keeps him from melting."

"You made it."

"Yes, I made him." Elsa sighed, hearing the unnerved tone in Fitzwilliam's voice."Would it make any difference if I said it wasn't entirely intentional?"

Fitzwilliam squeaked in an octave Elsa had never heard from her before. "You made a living being unintentionally?"

"I guess not, huh?"

Fitzwilliam made an unintelligible noise, and got into bed.

After about ten minutes Elsa asked, "Are you asleep?"

"I just met a talking snowman, that my lover made … 'not entirely intentionally.' What do you think?" Carolina answered quite clearly and quite awake.

"I promise, I'll explain it tomorrow. But right now … well, I don't think I can get back to sleep either." She rolled over to face Carolina.

"Cuddle time?" Carolina asked, snaking her arm around Elsa's waist.

"Well, I thought … maybe to start ..." Elsa gave her a kiss that said, "cuddle time" was not all that was on her mind.

Carolina kissed her back. Then a devious thought came to her, and she whispered in her ear. "Aren't you afraid your little … guy … will come back?"

Elsa tensed suddenly. When Carolina started to pull her closer she pushed back. "Oh no, you just really killed that mood."

Carolina giggled, "Talking snowman..." and ran her hands down Elsa's back.

"I am not doing this if you keep talking about Olaf," Elsa huffed.

Carolina just giggled again.