by Lt. Noin
In a land that had known naught but peace for centuries on end, there lived a girl and her best friend in all the world. And though he was a prince and she of a family that worked the land, they had each grown up knowing the other's secrets as their own. Some swore that they could not tell where the prince began and the girl ended, though he was as bright as summer's joy and she as dark as the starry night's calm.
As the prince came of age, he was taken away from the girl at odd hours to learn the deep secrets of statecraft. And the girl grew lonely in their times apart, but the prince would always return to her, his face a beacon as he spoke to her of how great his father was to manufacture such an ever-lasting peace. It was the joy of the country, he told her, and he wanted to keep that piece of sunlight in their hearts even in the bitterest days of winter. For that peace was what made their land the summer land through all seasons. And she would tell him of her own dreams of the stars, and their joys were greater for the sharing. They shared and dreamt wherever they could, but there were some dreams too deep and too precious to be overheard by anything, save the roses.
The prince and the girl had planted the garden in a time before their memories had coalesced from the mists of dreams, but still, they had done so with only the help of their own clumsy fingers. They fed the roses with laughter and watered them with their childhood sorrows, and the roses that grew were imbued with their most secret of hearts. There were roses of milky white, of thickest cream, and of golden butter. There were roses of delicate spring green, roses the color of a maiden's first blush, and even a few roses the color of the girl's night-dark hair. But though the girl loved the garden above all her possessions, she felt an absence in it, and the lack pierced her heart.
They were in the garden when the Snow Queen's mirror broke, for their roses bloomed even in the deathly chill of winter. And when the girl heard the glass shatter, she was afraid.
"Let's go inside," she urged the prince, although they still had secrets to share.
"The Snow Queen's mirror has broken, and if we are not careful, a shard may pierce us in the eye and worm its way to our heart. And then, it will take away all that is beautiful."
"No," said the prince. "Why are you afraid of the old fairy stories? This is my father's kingdom, and peace has reigned here through many winters. Besides, perhaps the Snow Queen herself is beautiful, and her mirror will reflect that."
But, the girl thought, her winter, bright though it may be, is a season of death, except for the roses and the summer in the people's hearts. Still, she stayed with the prince, though the sweetness in their shared secrets was suddenly tinged with bitterness.
The prince had felt a sharpness in his eye when he heard the mirror crack, but for fear and for curiosity, he did not tell the girl. Thus, when they met in the garden again the next day, he sneered at their roses.
"How can you care for them so?" he asked the girl. "Look at them. They are ugly and worm-eaten."
"But," she replied, "even if it were so, we planted them together and gave all our secrets to them for safe keeping."
The prince laughed, and the girl shivered, the warmth of the garden evaporating.
"Not so. For I have kept a secret to myself. I am the Snow Queen's warrior and consort, and you are nothing in her brilliance."
With those words, he left on a chill wind for the Snow Queen's palace, to return what was rightfully hers.
In terror and alarm, the girl turned to their roses for comfort, only to see the roses wither as she laid eye on them, their dying petals falling to the ground in a whirlwind of color.
* * *
It was winter, and there was nothing alive, not even the roses. The girl was sitting in the garden, sifting through the faded petals, when the king of the land came for her.
"Where is my son?" he asked her, for all in the land knew the two were as inseparable as sun and shadow.
"He has gone to the Snow Queen, for a shard of her mirror is trapped in his heart," she said, and the king despaired.
"He is my son, and the land is in need of him, for he embodies the summer in the people's hearts," the king said.
"Then I shall bring him back to you," the girl said as she shook off the dead petals, "and I hope I shall be enough."
"But the Snow Queen's palace lies above the stars and below the earth," said the king of the land.
"I shall find him," the girl promised.
She was given sturdy boots made of the finest leather, a thick coat made of the warmest furs, and a sack filled with food for her journey. And with her, she took a handful of dried rose petals, to remind herself of the summer. She walked north where the frost winds whistled, and she walked for days and days, until the wind stole her very breath and dulled her memory. But always, it would carry the faint scent of roses, and she would remember her purpose and journey on. When at last she could walk no further, she came across a reindeer lying in the snow.
"Reindeer," the girl said, "do you know where the Snow Queen's palace lies?"
"Why must you know?" asked the reindeer. "The Snow Queen would freeze your limbs and numb your body."
"The prince of my land is there," she replied, "and my country is in need of him."
"Ah," said the reindeer. "I do not know, but perhaps the polar bear will."
"I thank you," said the girl, and she gave the reindeer her leather boots, for she saw his hooves were worn from outrunning hunters.
She trekked further, with only the rose petals for comfort, until she could again go no more. And there, at her feet, lay a great polar bear on his side, shivering.
"Polar bear," asked the girl, "can you tell me where the Snow Queen lives?"
"Why?" asked the polar bear gruffly. "She would only turn your warm blood cold if you approached."
"Please," she said, "the son of my king is there, and my king is in need of him."
"I see. I am sorry, then, for I do not know. But the Old Lady may."
"I thank you," said the girl, and she laid her fur coat on the bear, for she saw his own was thin against the ice.
She walked further than she thought she could, and when she finally ran out of strength, the scent of rose petals brought back the summer and gave her enough warmth to go forward. Finally, beyond all the boundaries of the earth, she came across a small shack in the snow. She knocked on the door and was greeted by a woman who looked older than even Father Time, who was as old as birth of the world.
"Grandmother," the girl asked, "can you show me the way to the Snow Queen's land?"
"Why for, dear heart?" the old lady asked. "The Snow Queen will chill your heart until there is no love left and turn it into an icy dead thing."
"Perhaps so," said the girl with a mouthful of fear, but she went on, knowing the old lady would accept naught but the true reason for her long journey, "but she holds my best friend in all the world there, and I am desperate to have him by my side again."
"Well spoken, child. I will show you the land that lies above the stars and below the earth, but the journey is long and hard, and you must win your friend back without my help."
"I thank you, Grandmother," said the girl as she left her sack of food in the shack, for she could see that the pantries were bare and the shelves were unstocked.
But her knees shook when she turned back. The shack had disappeared, and with it, the old lady she now knew to be Grandmother Death. Despite her fear, she walked on, past even the boundaries of the eternal, until she stumbled across a hole in the ground. Remembering the whispered words of Grandmother Death, she climbed into the hole and fell into an underground cavern that sparkled with the light of hidden gems. She continued to walk, ignoring the precious stones in her path and the silvery ores at her sides. At last, she stopped before a magnificent palace carved entirely of ice. It glittered and sparkled in the captive light of the gemstones, and it shone with the reflected glow of the cavern's metals. It was grander than anything the girl had ever imagined, and in front of it was a lake that reflected its lights and looked as though all the stars in the sky had been drowned within. Together, the lake and the palace lit up the dark cavern with an otherworldly brilliance, and the girl wondered how anyone could say that the Snow Queen left only ugliness in her wake. The girl stood still in awe, unaware of the numbness in her fingers or the sluggish flow of her blood. For the briefest moment, the wisp of a golden day in a garden shone through the ice, only to be buried once more by the relentless cold. But it was enough to make her remember the beauty of the roses, and to her, their warm glow was more beautiful than anything the Snow Queen could ever make. So the girl awoke and found the prince in front of her, staring at her handful of dried petals.
"Who are you?" he asked. "You are not welcome here. Why do you bar my way to the Snow Queen's palace?"
The girl looked at him in shock, for a silver mask covered his face, and his hair, rather then being the color of sunlight through a windowpane, was the empty shade of ice, and his eyes, once summer-sky bright, were a frosty, lifeless blue.
"Don't you know me?" she asked. "You don't belong here. You are the prince of the land. Your people need you. Your father the king wants you back. And I -- I cannot live without you."
He looked past her, toward the palace, as he said, "I am the Snow Queen's consort and no man's son. And as the heat of war keeps me alive, I have need of no one. Not even you."
Cut to the core by his betrayal, she felt the threadbare hope that had kept her alive tear apart, and she collapsed at his feet, too shattered to stand.
"How could you have forgotten?" the girl keened, partly to herself. "How could you have forsaken your dreams so easily?"
But she dared not ask how he could have forgotten their roses, for fear he might answer and crush the remainder of her heart.
And in a voice even colder than his eyes, he told her to move aside, or he would command the frost winds to cut her down where she lay.
But she refused, and she watched in silent horror as he prepared to call the frost winds of the north, unable to believe that even now he could raise a hand against what they once had.
Still he continued.
In desperation and in sick despair, she threw the petals at him, for without hope of him, they were useless to her, and she cared not what might happen to her.
As they engulfed him, their scent filled the air, reviving memories he thought were long dead. His spell stopped, and the silver mask cracked to reveal eyes wet with regret and shame. The girl, not yet daring to hope, reached cautiously for him and held him as the melting of the ice washed away the shard lodged in his heart.
"I remember," he whispered to the girl. "I remember."
Against the snow, the petals were as red as the heart's deepest blood.
With that, the Snow Queen knew she had lost her consort, and her anger swelled within her, fierce as a storm in the dead of winter. But before she could lift a hand against the two, Grandmother Death barred her way.
"Go," she said to the girl. "Your loving heart has won you a way back to your homeland."
The girl turned to find the polar bear and the reindeer waiting behind her, and she and the prince mounted the two as the Snow Queen screamed her rage to the winds. That day, as the two flew swiftly away, the world wondered at the malicious voice in the cold north wind.
They soon escaped the icy clutches of the Snow Queen's country and were met with great festivity in their own land. And even though she was pleased in her most secret of hearts, the girl nearly fled when she found all the celebration was in honor of her deed. For she had returned summer to the land, and its people were grateful.
However, even in the midst of all the people, the prince and the girl managed to slip away in the twilight when day embraces night. They stole into their rose garden, for each had a secret singing in the heart that longed to be shared with the other. Upon entering, they looked at each other and rejoiced. The roses that had died were reborn, more glorious and more fragrant than ever before. And the girl felt a strange peace in her heart, for the absence that had hurt her so before was now gone, and in its place was a thing more beautiful than even the Snow Queen's palace had been.
A crimson cluster of roses grew in the very heart of the garden, and the girl and the prince walked toward it of one accord, knowing that only these roses could possibly endure a secret as sweet as the ones beating against their hearts.
"I thank you," said the prince as he knelt at her feet and kissed her hand, "for giving my people back the summer. But I thank you most for returning it to me."
"No," said the girl with a gentle smile as she knelt down beside him. "I did nothing, for you are the summer. And -- "
She broke off and shyly looked down, afraid that if she let her secret out of her heart, it would lose its value and be mocked.
"And?" asked the prince, for he too was afraid, afraid that the Snow Queen's shard had tainted him so that the girl would not tell him the secrets of her heart.
"And," she continued in a voice barely above a whisper, sensing his fear and overcoming her own, "I love you."
He touched her night-dark hair, smiling. "And I you," he said, giving his own secret away as he kissed her beneath the red, red roses. 
