permanent frost upon her throne as she hold court to the messengers from the western plains.
her face is a mask, nothing revealed, her eyes are eternity blue, cold like the dead and haunting tomorrow. she is adorned in her furs, the fleece of a polar bear, the skin of a wild snow cat, upon her head a crown of silver, at her side the blue emerald spectre radiating it's blue throb.
the distant howl of a nightmare wind, churning up the thoughts of loners and hermits. in the eastern tower a foolish man reads thinking he will learn a wisdom, the folly of man unfolding around him. he looks out across the empty courtyard, the silver trees obliterated by thick snow. he peers into the arched window of the winter palaces great hall and sees the faint blue glow.
a frost spirit phase shifts on the pages of his book, a treatise on 'suffering and humour' he stands back and taps his foot waiting for the man to turn his gaze away from the window.
when he sees the frost spirit he curses under his breath, 'begone spirit, i have much reading to do.'
the spirit dances around the old mans beard, and sends tugs upon it with it's tiny hands.
'you read but you don't see, you read but you are empty, you read but you can't be free, you read so you cant just be.'
'i've no time for your riddles and conundrums,' the man mutters, begone you wee beasty.'
the spirit dances a jig, and a trail of glittering sparkles follow him around like a magic cloud.
'the ice queen is a particularly cold character, she won't give anything away, but if you catch her midnight reflection, you may just melt her down and win her affections.'
the old man looked at the sprite, 'mmm, you just feeding me false hope, like a naughty imp.'
'i'm born into this world from refraction, i come with gifts of love and attraction, if you just follow my instruction, i'm most certain you will find satisfaction.'
and the frost spirit was gone.
the man carried on reading his book, he shook away the thoughts that grew, he focused his attention of the philosophy of humour applied to suffering, he made some tea, he read some more and he tried and failed to keep his stare away from the faint blue glow.
the light began to fade, he lit a candle and closed the book, the moon was rising, over the horizon, big blue moon, tonight, he thought, tonight. what did the spirit say, catch the queens reflection at midnight, he could do that, but how, how do you catch a reflection. a mirror!
he scuttled away at his desk and threw open the drawers, there had to be a mirror here somewhere. he searched and eventually found a small rectangular pocket mirror that belonged to his owl. he carefully put it in his pocket and checked the chronometer, he had several hours to plan his strategy.
the ice queen had been busy, she had dealt with several prisoners, her councillors, matters of state, several foreign ministers, signed three trade agreements and discussed the proposition of a war with the eastern nations with her advisors.
she would retire soon but first she needed to attend to her sustenance requirements, for before sleeping and after waking she required feeding and every night she would her servants always filled a bath of hot blood for her to soak in and later when she was fully bathed a goblet of fresh human blood to drink from.
she slipped of her furs and gowns, stepped into the huge bath filled with hot blood, her white skin stained as she slides in slowly enjoying the warmth, candles adorn, forming a circle in which the bath is centrepiece. she let's out a sigh, and leans her head back, closing her pale eyelids.
the old man has stuck the mirror across his forehead with sticking tape, it sits right over his third eye, and now he puts on a monks robe, black and hooded the hood falls over most of his face, he tucks his chin in and obscures the mirror.
the queen feels her body replenish as she slips on her bedclothes, she walks to the alter and takes the goblet, smelling the thick liquid. she drinks it down in huge gulps, thirsty work.
her lips stained red she walks back along the courtyard, the snow falling down heavily, almost a blizzard she smiles, a blizzard and a full blue moon, how wonderful she thinks, and out from nowhere, a figure comes towards her, a hooded man, a monk.
she is surprised, monks have no place in the palace after dark, they usually inhabit the library or the dungeons. she has placed thousands of monks in her dungeons, the basements are filled with them, her four towers are packed with these religious holy fools, and even that old wizard cornelius black, the one who had so long ago declared his love for her was in the tall east towers, so long ago, so many years.
she cast her mind back to his impetuous proclamations of love and affection as he offered her his ring, a stupid black band of metals and stones. his pathetic face, half lusting and half ernest, he was merely a mortal, how dare he think a goddess would endure the love of a mortal. love was something only mortals considered, gods like her crushed love, they only required fear and so she sent him away, to the towers for torture.
that was long ago, he was either dead or in solitary, she would ask her guards in the morning, and she would have this stranger taken as well, contradicting the curfew deserved a distinct punishment but the fool was blocking her path. she felt her fingernails growing, claws ready to tear his face away.
she saw the outline of his mouth, the dark black beard glistening in the moonlight, 'begone monk for you block your queens path.'
the monk stood right in front of her, closer than his life was worth for she felt the muscles in her arm clench as she prepared to scratch his eyes out and mid swing his hands removed the hood and revealed her terrible face. reflected in his own, her hand in the mid air arc froze, her heart itself froze, and her hate froze.
the old man had timed it perfectly, his breathing returned and he let out a long breath that caused steam to run from his mouth. the ice queen was frozen in time, but she would wake soon and love him, just as the sprite had predicted.
he knew he had to wait until morning, so he waited watching her in the blizzard, as the moon cast down its light and the temperature dropped, and the wind howled and everything lay frozen, everything perfectly still and time itself stopped. dead!
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