Frosta fanfiction

A young girl, ten years old, stood at attention as the crowd watched. She had short dark blue hair and wore a dark blue dress with white fur covering her shoulders and her wrists. The front of her dress was decorated with seven short icicles carved into diamond shapes. Her round dark eyes met a dozen other eyes in front of her.

“Today,” announced Frigid, a blonde general of the guards, “is a day of both celebration, and mourning. His Majesty King Freeze led several of our strongest men into battle against the Horde on the edge of the Kingdom of Snows. Their leader, Hordak had attempted to invade our kingdom and steal our wealth and resources. King Freeze held Hordark off…but gravely, didn’t make it.”

The crowd muttered in low voices and several younger individuals gasped.

A tear threatened to fall from Frosta’s eyes, but she held it in. She couldn’t afford to be seen as a weak child during her coronation.

As an only child, Frosta had always known that she would become a ruler someday. Both her parents had taught her etiquette and rules early on. After observing weekly meetings with the king and the council, she could recite the anthem and the names of the other kingdoms with her eyes closed.

Despite all the formalities, Frosta still had time to closely bond with her parents in the late evening. She remembered the warm smile behind her father’s dark beard as he watched her practice her ice magic in her bedroom. When she had accidently froze a butler against the wall who had arrived to her room, her father showed her how to melt the ice surrounding him.

“Frosty, you must always be careful,” explained her father. Frosta rolled her eyes at her silly nickname, but smiled all the same.

Frosta remembered the subtle reassurances from Queen Iceis, her mother.

“Follow me,” she had said to her daughter. The two royals entered a hidden passage that led to a dark cave. They both stopped at a ledge.

A young Frosta pointed at something glowing from above. “What’s that?”

“The Fractal Flake,” the queen explained, the light briefly illuminating her long black hair. A large snowflake-shaped crystal hummed with power and stayed in place. She could feel the pulse from the gem similar to how she felt her heart beat.

“This gem has powered our kingdom for hundreds of years,” said the queen. “Its power has been used by kings and queens of the past to protect our land, as well as replenish their power. There will come a time, when it will be your turn to assume the throne. When you do, the crystal’s power will be transferred over to you, amplifying your power.”

Frosta’s eyes filled with both wonder and concern. “I know I’ll be able to do it…but what if I cannot?”

“You will,” said her mother. “There is a reason why we have taught you how to stand your ground so early. It is to best prepare you in case the inevitable comes.”

Frosta tried to pronounce “inevitable” and asked what she meant.

“You’ll find out soon enough,” said the queen. “Now, let’s be off to dinner. The food-tasters should tell us reports on the food when we arrive.” Frosta wrapped her arms around her mother in a hug. Shortly after, she returned the embrace.  

Frosta didn’t know how fast time could fly by, until now. How could her mother’s clear ice blue eyes sparkle with happiness at her, only for them to roll back into her head, days later. Iceis’ pale white skin became sheer white as her body struggled to fight off a mysterious poison that had entered her veins. Medics and healers rushed into the queen’s chambers, doing all they could to heal her. All the meanwhile, Frosta looked on in fear from the distance, feeling ever so small and vulnerable.

“Definitely poison, alright,” stated a food taster, lifting his nose up to the silver wine chalice the queen had drunk out of. “The Horde must have slipped some in when they arrived with barrels of wine and fish for us.”

“We gave away our weapons to them for nothing,” spat a guard. “But surely, they would want us on their side. It must have been a mistake.”

But the queen’s pained gasps and coughs suggested otherwise. No longer able to stay in one place, Frosta rushed over to her sick mother. Her mother’s hand was ice cold, yet the young princess did not let go.

“My time is almost done, Frosta…” she stuttered. “Remember all the things I have taught you…”

“Mother, please…I’m not ready…”

“You are ready…you must be ready,” said her mother. “Make sure that all your subjects are well cared for. Enforce the rules when necessary. Be strong as a glacier, sharp as ice…but remember to be soft as snow at times.”

“I…I will make you proud, mother,” mumbled Frosta, her eyes turning red.

Iceis squeezed her hand tighter. “Oh, Frosty…you already have…”

Her head turned to the side and her hand went slack in Frosta’s.

“No! No! Mother!” cried Frosta. One of the guards tried to pull her to the side, but she screamed and sobbed loudly. It was the only time when she did not care when she acted like a child. It was even harder to get back into her responsibilities the next day. That was the day when the calls of war were heard.

It was the last time she would ever see her father’s face.

Frosta’s thoughts were interrupted when she felt something hard being put on her head. It was a small ice crown.

Who would have imagined Frosta being crowned on her birthday…and her feeling like the world was already weighing down on her.

Another man with brown hair stood by her side and spoke. “By the power vested in me, I hereby crown you, Frosta, Princess of Snows.”

The crowd clapped politely, while a few other people looked at her with pity and disbelief in their eyes. Frosta stared at them icily, daring them to challenge her.

‘Don’t underestimate me because of my age,’ she thought. ‘You have no idea what I can accomplish.’

“Happy Birthday, Your Majesty!” called several teenagers as Frosta climbed down the stairs and walked toward the snack bar. For the rest of the day, she was bombarded with gifts from other kingdoms and endless requests of joining the Rebellion.

“BrightMoon needs you, Your Majesty,” said a messenger of Queen Angella who had been sent to her kingdom. He wore armor and the white garb of BrightMoon. A small insignia, a crescent moon, was pinned to his chest over his heart. “The Horde have almost destroyed the Whispering Woods and the Meadowlands. They could be up to something else!”

Frosta ignored him and popped a frost covered fish egg into her mouth. “Not interested. Being involved with the rest of Etheria has only caused problems for our kingdom. It would be beneficial if the Rebellion and the Horde could solve their problems like real adults. I suggest you do the same.”

The messenger looked aghast. “But the princesses…”

“Nope.”

Frosta walked away, leaving a bewildered messenger behind.

A strong burly man walked over to her later on while she was chewing a ball of dark chocolate candy. “The Horde and I have the best technology in the land. With our people and your kingdom ruling together, all of Etheria could be ours!”

“Not today,” Frosta replied with a wave of her hand. “Have a nice evening.”

Desperate to get away from the crowds and noise, Frosta headed back toward the council room.

“Scribe Chiller,” she ordered. The black haired writer looked up from her seat. “Yes, Your Majesty?” she asked.

“I want you to create a new law for this kingdom. Call it the Neutrality Treaty. We will not be involved with the Horde nor the Princess Alliance anymore.”

“Yes, Princess,” she nodded, not daring to question Frosta’s orders.

For months afterward, Frosta felt safer and more secure in her icy palace. The rules and regulations that had formerly confused her, now served as a good way for her to escape her troubling thoughts.

Soon enough, the hidden pain of the loss of her parents and the ever increasing stress of her job made her perfectionistic.

The rules had to be followed by the book: no cracks were to be evident in the ice walls and floor. All the beds had to be carefully made and smooth. The food had to be meticulously decorated and prepared. And for Snows sake, nothing on the plate could be touching each other!

Some people may have been put off by Frosta’s perfectionism and her antisocial ways. The more traditional nobles and several jokesters called her derogatory things like “youngster,” “ADHD Autistic Anarchist” and “Lost Frost.” But she didn’t care much anymore. How could she? Sharp comments weren’t going to penetrate her stone cold stance. There was no point in pretending like everything was fine and dandy when she still felt that hollow loneliness each and every day like a gaping hole.

Frosta lived by the rules and her role, day by day, only letting her emotions flow freely in her bedroom when she cried herself to sleep. In the back of her mind, she hoped to have her father and mother appear by her side once more. She imagined them saying that there hadn’t been a war. That they had made peace with the Horde and that they would live safely in Snows for the rest of their lives. Certainly, she could enjoy herself and become queen at 16, the traditional age where she would be shown proper respect.

But just as quickly as they came, her hopeful thoughts faded away in a cold blast.

It wasn’t long before Frosta was almost twelve years old. Her kingdom had kept to itself for a long time. They had more than enough resources to keep busy and stable.

The day came when Princess Frosta put together a rule list for the Princess Prom event. The sooner she got this event over with, the better. Already, the scribe was working on dozens of other copies to send out across the land.

“All Princess Ball: Winter Wonderland.” Was written in elaborate script at the top of the scroll. The rules were listed below.

“Rules:

No weapons allowed in the palace. Castle guards are the only ones permitted to carry weapons.

No use of magic powers for harm or fist fighting. Any form of violence will not be permitted.

For the chefs: All food must be prepared properly (fish and meat frozen with the right amount of ice power).

All guests must wear formal attire: (dresses, suits, ties, etc.)

Any princess may bring a plus one individual with them to the event

Princess Frosta is eleven and ¾ years old. No one is allowed to mock her or make any comment on her age or experience.

The day of the prom arrived. A guard stood by a table, confiscating weapons from the guests. Adora was very reluctant to let go of her sword. Snow and icicles wrapped around the columns in the hallway. On and above the double doors were stain glass snowflake designs. The ballroom was shining with rows of icicles arranged in rows. People from all walks of life were dancing under colored strobe lights and pop music. A chandelier of long icicles hung from the high ceiling. A small band of beautiful women were playing string instruments on top of some stairs in a corner. An array of fruits and exotic food were positioned on ice covered shelves, made to be preserved throughout the night. There were small sandwiches, wrapped hotdogs, cookies, and cupcakes with wintery designs and colors. A large jelly-like sculpture was positioned at the edge of one table.

A line of guests walked up the steps to Frosta, who was sitting on her blue and white throne. The people bowed and greeted her, and they were then escorted back down the stairs by guards. Frosta didn’t particularly enjoy the moment; for her it was just another chore, albeit a necessary part of the ancient traditions. It was then that Adora and princess Glimmer arrived to the front. Adora bowed and Glimmer curtsied.

“That’s Frosta?” Adora whispered to Glimmer. “But she’s like…ten!”

A collective gasp came from the crowd as they heard Frosta’s age mentioned out loud by Adora.

“I’m eleven and three quarters,” said Frosta coldly. If she could, Frosta would have told her to shut the hell up.

“Revered hostess,” said Glimmer. “We come under the ancient rules of hospitality, bringing greetings from BrightMoon.”

“And She-Ra” added Adora.

“You are welcome under the rules of hospitality,” Frosta stated. “Leave conflict at the door. Enjoy the ball.”

Glimmer tried to remediate the situation and Adora started to say something about the Rebellion but Frosta had enough. The two princesses were moved along by Frosta’s guards down the steps.

Later on, during the party, Frosta went over by the snack bar, wanting to be left alone. She observed the light orange jelly and the fruit on the table. However, she noticed out of the corner of her eye, Adora walking over to her from her right.

Chatting with this disrespectful blonde stranger was the last thing on Frosta’s mind.

“Revered hostess,” said Adora with a bow. “I’ve come to apologize. I was so rude.”

“Yes, you were,” Frosta replied bluntly.

Then she turned back to Adora. “But you’re only an honorary princess. You can’t be expected to know better.”

Changing the subject, Adora looked around at the magnificent walls of ice and the vast architecture of the place.

“Your kingdom is beautiful. I’m honored to be here.”

“Thank you,” said Frosta, not looking at Adora.

Frosta sighed in annoyance, knowing why Adora had decided to speak with her. “You’re gonna ask me to join your Rebellion?”

“You know about that?” asked Adora.

“Of course I do,” Frosta replied.

Just then, one of Frosta’s guards came over with a tray of food. He offered some to the princesses.

Frosta looked at the tray with disapproval. “The snow peas and the cookies are touching. Do it right.”

The guard left.

“Princess Frosta, the Rebellion needs you,” Adora pleaded. “Your kingdom is powerful. Your alliance could defeat the Horde.”

“The Horde isn’t a threat,” stated Frosta. Despite several mishaps, the Horde had kept to themselves thanks to the Neutrality Treaty. Not even the Horde soldiers could get into the kingdom back when she lost her parents.

“Because the Kingdom of Snows is so out of the way,” Frosta added.

“Joining the Rebellion is your best bet,” said Adora.

At this point, the ice princess was getting frustrated at the sight of a stranger telling her what her best choices were.

She had heard comments like that quite often in the castle, especially after the death of her parents.

“Are you sure you know what’s best for you?”

“You’re too little to run a kingdom! Do you even know what you are doing?”

“Maybe she’s too scared to associate herself with the outside world. Not doing what is best.”

The truth was, no one knew what was best for her…except herself. She certainly wasn’t going to let another person test her like that.

Frosta spoke. “The Kingdom of Snows has defended itself well for thousands of years. We do not need your help or your rebellion.”

She turned to Adora. “Please enjoy the ball.” She left with her guards by her side.

Frosta was sitting back on her throne, doing her usual routine of meeting and greeting her guests. She was about to go into another state of boredom when she saw two guests that stood out from the crowd: Catra and Scorpia from the Horde. Catra was wearing a fancy maroon suit, while Scorpia was wearing an elegant black dress and red gem earrings.

“Revered hostess!” called Adora in concern.

‘Not this again,’ thought Frosta.

“They’re from the Horde!” Adora yelled, pointing at the two villains.

‘So what?’

“Hostess,” said Catra. “Princess Scorpia was invited per the rules of this ball. Rules which I personally have utmost respect for.”

“You do not!” shouted Adora to Catra.

“Princess Adora,” said Frosta sternly. “The rules clearly state that all princesses are welcome.”

“They’re up to something. I can feel it!”

“Enough,” Frosta said. “You see a child, but I have worked too hard to gain respect, only to throw away because you feel they’re up to something.”

It was quite clear that Adora had no evidence to back up her statement.

“The All-Princess Ball is neutral. I will not dishonor that legacy,” finished Frosta. “Scorpia is a princess. Princesses get plus ones. They Stay.”

Adora grumbled in defeat and deviance.

After the guests left, Frosta grumbled, “Teenagers.”

The guests were all scattered around the ballroom now, eating food, and chatting with their friends. With no more people to greet and the time drawing near, Frosta stood up and announced, “It is my duty as hostess to announce, it is time for the first dance.”

The crowd flooded toward the dance floor, laughing and pairing up in couples. Frosta watched and saw Adora and Catra dancing…and arguing at the same time. The dancing remained uninterrupted…until Adora suddenly pushed Catra into an ice structure, breaking it. The music stopped and the crowd gasped.

‘I knew Adora was trouble,’ thought Frosta.

Frosta stomped over and with a raise of her hands, entrapped Adora in a cage of ice.

Frosta glared at Adora. “The Princess Ball is a ceremony of unity. Violence is forbidden.”

“You don’t understand…” started Adora.

“I understand perfectly,” spat Frosta. “In accordance with the rules over the centuries, I hereby revoke your invitation. You are to leave my kingdom and never, ever…”

A sudden loud explosion interrupted Frosta’s reprimand. Then a series of crystal bombs went off one after the other. Guests screamed and ran away in a panic. The food and plates crashed to the ground and crack appeared in the walls.

“Remain calm!” ordered Frosta to the crowd. Frosta knew what she had to do next. There was no time to stop the mysterious intruders. She had to keep her kingdom safe. She ran off, flanked by two of her guards.

Frista raced down the hall toward the secret passageway.

“Help get everyone out of here. If you see the intruders, freeze and restrain them.”

“Yes, Your Majesty,” said the guards.

Frosta opened the ice covered door, which blended in well with the rest of the ice wall from a distance. Heart pounding, Frosta ran in the dark, searching for the beacon of light. Finally she found it: the Fractal Flake. She stopped, took a deep breath and raised both of her hands.

In several seconds, the falling debris that had threatened to fall on the guests froze in mid fall. Slowly, the castle started to amend itself. The roof closed back together, a light fixture flew back up into place and the large star structure outside the palace was fitting itself back together. Frosta strained herself and grunted with effort. If she was going to risk collapsing or even death protecting her kingdom, then that’s what she would do.

Once the palace was fully repaired, Frosta gasped for breath and fell to her knees on the cold ground.

How did all of this happen? Here was an event that only happened once a decade, which was supposed to be harmonious and secure. Seeing the two sides in harmony would have strengthened Frosta’s confidence of her rule.

Now, everything had fallen apart.

Frosta had lost her parents. She had lost her sense of security and safety.

And now…though she was reluctant to admit it, she had lost her trust in the Horde.

She wiped away some tears that had fallen down her face.

‘I have failed you, mother, father,’ she stuttered through her sobs. ‘I almost failed my kingdom. What am I supposed to do now?’

She clenched her fists and stood up. “I…I must go back outside. Tend to those who may be wounded. Reassure the public.” She remembered some advice from her father: “Professional in public, playful in private.”

Maybe…perhaps maybe…this Adora person was right after all.

But would joining the Rebellion really be her best bet? Even if it meant going against her centuries long tradition of neutrality? Her Neutrality Law was, in fact, nothing new. Her parents made a similar law, as did her grandparents and the ones before them. It was expected of a ruler to be partial and logical…never to fight unless the enemy invaded first.

Which of course, they had.

With one last surge of energy, Frosta stood up and raised her hands once more. This time, huge towers of ice rose up from the outside and encased the palace like a triangular shield. Now her kingdom was more isolated and insulated than ever.

She now felt safe…but never had she felt more alone.

She made her way out of the chamber and was met with one of her messengers, a young man named Frigid. “Your Majesty, no one appears to be hurt after the bombs went off. There were reports of two men in blue coats taking away Princess Adora’s comrades.”

Another messenger came over, this time a woman with dark hair, Glace.

“We think that Bow and Glimmer have been taken away by spies. They disguised themselves as our guard!”

“And the Horde must have set off the bombs. That scorpion princess was suspiciously nowhere to be seen…”

“Alright, I understand,” said Frosta holding up her hands.

She cleared her throat. “Strengthen the defenses. Search the castle for any other intruders. See to it that all weapons are observed and stored away.

“Yes Princess,” said Glace. The two messengers wandered off to their duties.

Days and weeks passed. Frosta sat in with the council, going over document after document. She wore her usual blue coat, tan pants, and blue boots. She was about to sign a Treaty from the Horde when she felt a strange uncomfortable feeling in her stomach.

It wasn’t from hunger nor was it cramps. It was the everlasting feeling of fear and dread. Even her hands had begun to shake of their own accord.

“Excuse me for a moment,” she said. Frosta walked fast out of the room, leaving the council members in confusion.

When Frosta felt the Fractal Flakes power diminish, she knew that something was not right.

It felt like another, much darker power was trying to corrupt it. Although it felt far away, she knew that the force could grow increasingly closer. It was a feeling of dread that she couldn’t seem to let go of.

Her fears were further confirmed when she saw a pale blue light shine up into the dark sky. She knew what it was: a distress beacon from BrightMoon!

Perhaps it was the time for her to do something different.

Perhaps it was the time for her to take action and go outside her comfort zone.

Making her way into her office, she came across the Neutrality Treaty that she had meticulously put together…and threw it out of a nearby open window.

The wind blew away the documents and Frosta felt a weight lift from her shoulders. Her previous life of rules and solitude had blown away.

If the Rebellion truly needed her help, than that is what she would have to do.

“Princess?” asked one of two guards, who were standing outside her door. “Are you alright?”

“Go back to your positions. Don’t let anyone know I’m gone. If I don’t come back…”

“You’re leaving?” asked one of the guards.

“To help save the Rebellion. I sense that something bad is happening.”

“But the Neutrality Treaty…”

“Is henceforth disregarded!” she declared. Frosta never believed that those words would ever leave her lips.

Her guards stood in frozen shock. They wondered if Frosta had lost her mind.

Which, due to the events, she most likely had.

“If I don’t make it, tell the people that I left this world with honor,” she finished, managing to make her face emotionless.

“Princess, wait!” the guards called with concern.

But Frosta jumped out the window and shot long sheets of ice from her hands as she fell.

The ice rose from the ground and created an icy path that Frosta slid down and across. She moved gracefully as if she were wearing ice skates instead of her blue boots.

Red lightning flashed across the sky, lighting the world in a blood red glow. The sight made Frosta’s hair stand on end.

‘No time to back away now. I must do what is right for my kingdom.’

She slipped over the Whispering Woods…or what was left of them. The majority of the ground was frozen below. As she came up to the palace of BrightMoon, she saw quite a sight.

Horde tanks were firing green blasts at the castle. One of the blasts fired by Catra made impact with the large stand that held the Moonstone upright. It stared to crack in half and threatened to fall, bringing the Moonstone to its doom under the lake. With a quick flick of her wrist, the stand holding the gem was encased in ice.

She proceeded to blast more Horde soldiers away with her powers.

Adora and the other princesses looked happy to see her.

Frosta flipped through the air and landed in front of She-Ra. “I hope I’m not too late,” she stated.

“No, you’re right on time,” said Adora.

For the first time in a long time, Frosta smiled. Then feeling impatient with Glimmer teleporting again and the group reuniting, she said, “Let’s do this already,” holding her staff in front of her.

 Feeling a new energy within her, Frosta fought alongside the other princesses, forcing the Horde to retreat. She shot blasts of ice from a long staff she carried in her left hand.

Soon, the Moonstone brightened up the world, healed Glimmer and made things right again. When Frosta joined the other group of princesses who gave She-Ra extra power in rainbow waves, Frosta had never felt such happiness before. She glowed in a blue aura, with Perfuma and Glimmer on either side of her.

With victory for the Rebellion, Glimmer shook Frosta hard with glee, which she did not expect nor appreciate. Later, Frosta found herself cheering with Perfuma after the rainbow of power had been unleashed. “We did it!” both of them cheered. “We defeated them together! Isn’t this wonderful?” She happily hugged Perfuma and she hugged her back.

‘So this is what friendship is like,’ Frosta thought. For the first time in a while, Frosta truly felt like a kid again.

 ‘Mother and Father would be proud of me. If only they could see me now!’

As Frosta said her goodbyes and skated back to her kingdom, she did not know what the future would hold for her. In the back of her mind, she knew that the Horde was still out there. They would stop at nothing to conquer the land of Etheria along with the whole world. Now, she realized that her kingdom would be included on their list.

Her visit back was met with celebration and some apprehension. There were still people who could not accept a mere child ruling their kingdom but they were few and far between. The castle was now fully cleaned, repaired, and routines were set back in order. It was the same as it usually was.

Only this time, Frosta made plans to interact and travel with the Princess Alliance and help out in any way possible. Even though at times, she still had high expectations of other people.

No matter what the future would bring, Frosta would meet it head on like an unyielding glacier. To herself, she had the audacity to thank the Horde for what they had done. For without their involvement, Frosta would not have grown stronger and more resilient. Their attack at the Princess Prom made her want to defeat them more than ever before. It was a peculiar surge of adrenaline that she formerly, was not allowed to feel.

Being with her friends was…freeing. Weird, no doubt, but also freeing.

Deep down inside herself, Frosta knew she had made the right decision. She would not just honor tradition…she would expand upon it, alter it to better her kingdom for the good of her people. It was a daunting task for such a young girl who was so used to routine…but then again, she was one not to be underestimated.

One thing was for sure…her memories of her new friends would stay frozen in her mind for a long time.