Daughter of Winter 1

She could remember warmth, an entire land of it even; filled with giant stone dwellings and people clothed in colorful, butterfly wing dresses. And a mother, a nameless dream filled with smiles and love and laughter. She never asked her father for her mother's name, never wanted to let that fantasy woman fall to flawed, human standards. It was an idea she cherished.

Seeing Malkyn shiver in the snowy wind, Elsa sighed and raised her hand, waving it in a small circle and creating a bubble of calm amidst the storm. Smiling tightly at the other woman's quiet word of thanks and wonder filled look at the winter magic, she turned back to look at the pale scenery before her. This was her home now, and while she was curious about where she had come from and wished for the anonymity that life would have provided, she didn't particularly want to leave. Except when the Free Folk treated her like a fallen deity. Her father might be an Old God, but she was not, not by a long shot, her mother had been just as human as the rest of them, just as fragile. The corners of her eyes tightening in remembrance, she missed the light gray skin and glowing eyes of an approaching White Walker until it was almost upon them, and whirled around when Malkyn shook her shoulder roughly, eyes grim.

"One of yer father's," She said, pointing at the approaching creatures, "Can ye get rid of it or should I alert the warriors?" Cracking her back as she stood up, the pale skinned girl appraised the unearthly figure approaching them.

"No, I think I can take care of it, my father's made sure none of them are a danger to me." After taking a step, she hesitated and turned around, "But just in case, be ready to run for it. If there's more than one I might have some problems." The dark-eyed woman nodded sharply and unsheathed her weapons, beginning to light a fire and watching as the pale haired girl with eyes just as ethereal as the monster she was going to confront walked off.

"Be careful Elsa, yer father'd be mighty displeased if ye came to harm under my watch." Fire was the only deadly to Wights, but it still caused the Walkers pain and would give her time to warn everyone else and try to protect the godchild.

Nearing the Walker, Elsa stopped and raised her arms, a thick wall of ice rising on either side of her to keep the creature from going around her small form.

"Stop." She commanded, sounding far more confident than she was, the undead of her father always seemed to unnerve her just as much as they empowered her, her humanity battling with her more divine nature. "This is my domain to protect. Terrorize the Wall or head farther north, but leave these people alone. Go." When the Walker stopped but made no move to leave, she gritted her teeth. "Your master's blood runs through my veins, do as I say or I'll call Frost here myself to punish you. We both know you can't hurt me, so unless you want an angry God to come down and deal with you, you had better return to wherever you came from." Taking a quick look around, the narrowed her eyes at the odd shadows along the tree line. "And take your Wights and any other Walkers with you, I'm in no mood to deal with one of your raids. Go find Wight bodies somewhere else." Finally, after narrowing its own eyes, the Walker turned to go, its shadow army disappearing along with it. Letting out a huff, Elsa dissolved the walls and jogged back to Malkyn, her thin, icy cloak trailing behind her.

"It went well?" The older woman questioned, not taking her eyes off the edge of the forest.

"They don't like listening to me, but usually all I have to do is threaten to call my father and they leave." She sat down a ways away from the small fire and twirled a conjured snowball between her hands and watching as it spun. "How did the wall look?" She questioned, taking hold of her creation and throwing it at where her father's minion had been. Malkyn shifted.

"Good as they usually are, godchild. You know I've no eye for yer magics."

"Oh you always say that. Can't you at least tell me if it looked sturdy or not?" Looking up at the sky suddenly, Elsa narrowed her eyes.

"Never mind, my father's almost here, you'd better go before he sticks your feet in a block of ice or freezes your hair; it took Ayleth forever to melt it and she ended up burning almost all of it off in the process." Nodding seriously, Malkyn got up and kicked snow over the fire she'd built. A pile of snow materialized over the pit and quickly put it out, after nodding her thanks she jogged out of the protective circle and into the powerful wind, making sure not to go too fast and offend the visiting God behind her. As vengeful as he was mischievous and playful, the last thing she wanted was to stir up his anger and end up a Wight.

Keeping her eyes on the figure dancing through the winds to get to her, Elsa let out a smile and braced herself, knowing what was about to happen. A moment later, an unseen force surrounded her circle of protective magic and swiftly crushed it, the wind slamming into her and sending her flying as it did so. Spinning head over heels into a drift of snow, Elsa mentally sighed; her father took much pleasure in magically humiliating her as often as he could.

"You've gotten rusty," He teased from where he was perched atop his staff while she dug her way out, "Last time it took almost twice as long for me to collapse your shield."

"Twice as much as nothing is still nothing." Elsa huffed, brushing her clothes off, "Shouldn't you be giving me help instead of mocking me? You've had millennia to perfect your powers; I've had barely a decade." Frost's bright eyes twinkled as his feet delicately touched down on the ground and pulled her into a hug,

"Yes, but where would the fun be in that?" He pulled back and held her out in front of him, kneeling as he scrutinized her face. "Has it really been almost a year? I could've sworn I left only a few weeks ago." His carefree smile slipped a bit, "At times I wish that I could take you with me," He said quietly, brushing a piece of hair behind her ear as a nostalgic smile played across his face, "You'd have loved seeing the Dothraki. They're as wild as the Free Folk, perhaps even more so. It's a shame my winters are so mild there, never a bit of snow in sight, the heat is too overpowering during the day even at the height of my season thanks to R'hllor and his blasted fires." A playful grin appeared on his face, making him look more like a man of five and twenty rather than a God, "I do my best to make up for it under the watchful eyes of the moon though," He laughed, "Chill them in their beds and make the winds howl like a great beast as they try to sleep." Elsa giggled softly,

"What does it look like if there's no snow?" She asked, sitting down and motioning for him to do the same.

"Their grasslands stretch as far as the eye can see, and the wind going through it makes it look like the ocean has risen and drowned the world." Squinting and leaning back as she stared upwards in thought, the God was struck with how much his daughter looked like her mother. Her lovely, nameless mother, who had a heart so warm it thawed even him.

"Have I ever been to the ocean, father?" She said, turning to him and waiting for an answer, "Did you bring me here by ship?" Reaching over and ruffling her hair, Frost chuckled,

"No, child, we rode the winds like respectable Gods." When he saw her pouting face, he barked out a laugh. "Still haven't tamed the sky, I see." He tweaked her nose, "How disappointing." Batting his hand away Elsa rolled her eyes,

"How could I? It's even more defiant than your Walkers." Upon seeing his suddenly serious face, she cursed herself inwardly for bringing it up, hating to sound weak in front of him.

"What do you mean?" He asked, "Have they been causing you trouble? You haven't been hurt have you?"

"No, they're just difficult. It's like ordering around one of the elders, they'll do what you say if you threaten them but make sure it's as slow and irritating as they can make it because they see it as being led by a child." The half-Goddess kicked at the snow halfheartedly, "Everyone fears me as much as they worship me, I love them, but I hate the looks in their eyes." Her voice turned bitter, "Even Malkyn is that way, I make a snowflake and she looks at me like I'm a Goddess come to either bless or curse her. And even when I'm not doing anything, people are still careful around me." A sigh escaped her. "Oh well, I'm not going to agonize about it, I just needed to talk. Tell me more about these Dothraki, father." The white-haired god looked a bit troubled but did as his daughter asked,

"The men have long, trailing hair, dark as night and covered with gold and bronze." He tugged at the end of her own white-blonde braid, "And they only ever cut it when they lose a battle, to show their disgrace. They seem like a boring lot, but then again I think that most men are." Frost chuckled, "And their god? I've never met anyone like him; angry, arrogant, and in need of a nice mare." His daughter looked perturbed,

"A mare?" She asked incredulously, "Why would-"

"Oh," Her father cut in, "He's a stallion. I forgot to mention that." Elsa sat up and smiled genuinely,

"A horse god? What does he look like? Did you really talk to him?" A confused look crossed her face, "And how did he talk with you?" Curiously, she squinted at him, "Do you speak horse? Or do the gods have a language I don't know about?"

"Maybe once you're old enough and you've learned to ride the sky I'll bring you across the Narrow Sea and you can see him for yourself." He laughed, pulling her to her feet, "In fact, he has the most interesting prophecy about a stallion that mounts the world." Hugging his daughter to his side, Frost set off towards the village Elsa was living in, "He has his prophecy child, R'hllor has his priests, I've got you. What do you say? Would you like to be my voice in the mortal world? I might even give you some tips on how to fly."

"I don't have a choice in this, do I? You're just pretending I do." At her father's pleased grin, she sighed, "Oh alright. What are the duties of a god's voice? I hope you're not expecting me to repeat everything you say." Frost rubbed his chin thoughtfully,

"I'm not quite sure. Whatever I tell you to, I suppose." As the pair reached the village, an impish smile crossed his face, "Observe." The winter god cleared his throat, "Voice of the Winter God, go freeze that man's shoes to the ground, he looks like he's much too boorish to be in our presence." He declared imperiously, waving his hand at short, round-faced man named Sadon. Elsa crossed her arms.

"No. Sadon's a nice man, that's cruel thing to do."

"You're a terrible follower." Her father sniffed, "You forget that you're supposed to be groveling and obeying." Without warning, a tall blonde boy roughly Elsa's age went jogging through the God and bumped into her shoulder.

"Hello Elsa, where have you been? Malkyn came by earlier grumbling about Walkers and Gods then disappeared in your home." A light blush crossed her face and the girl smiled,

"Oh, I was just talking with-" The boy nearly tripped then, brown eyes widening in surprise. "Kristoff? What's wrong?" As soon as the look appeared it was gone, Kristoff having snapped out of it, confused by what he'd seen but no longer entranced.

"I'm sorry, I just thought I saw a snowdrift in Sadon's tent, though I can't imagine how-" Elsa held up one hand as she turned to run back to the older man they had just passed, the heavy fur clothing she wore slowing her movements,

"One moment, I'm just going to go check on him."


"My father is visiting." The pale haired girl said with a wry smile as she made her way to the older Wildling, "So I'm obligated to free anyone caught up in his tricks. I know how you feel about his antics, you can leave if you like." When Kristoff looked around nervously, she sighed, "Go on, make sure Sven is staying out of trouble, we can talk again another day."

"I'm sorry Elsa," The blond haired boy began, but she cut him off.

"It's fine. I know how you folk feel about his visits. Like I said, we can catch up another day." With that she turned and made her way towards Sadon's tent, hoping that Kristoff had been imagining things so she wouldn't have to appease an irritated grump like Sadon.