Elsa sketch by Jin Kim
Photo taken by surfandsunshine
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DEAR READER
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@arulerdidappear
Elsa sketch by Jin Kim
Photo taken by surfandsunshine
I’m one with the wind and sky.
Now They Know
Rapunzel was put in the uncomfortable position of not knowing quite what to say. All things considered, what with being kidnapped and becoming an unknowing prisoner for 18 years, to being used and isolated and manipulated and lied to — Rapunzel was doing particularly well. For someone who so often mistook herself as powerless, or even stupid, Rapunzel had a spectacular gift for resilience that anyone who knew her and her story could emulate.
That being said, she had never encountered someone like Elsa, who simultaneously battled their demons both silently and obviously - to the point where even Rapunzel, who had to grapple with her own difficulties on her own time, could only watch the beautiful disaster before her with a mingled sense of pity and confusion. What could she do?
"I don’t know what you mean," she said plainly, brow puckering, and she suddenly realized that that might have come across as rude. "I didn’t think anything was wrong with you before, your Majesty." It took a second, and in the meantime she let out a nervous, sheepish laugh. "I thought something was wrong with me.”
In recent years--oh, who was she kidding, for most of her life--Elsa could have counted her smiles on her fingers. She had been...what had she been?...she had been afraid to smile, as if she was doing something wrong.
Also, people smiled when they were happy, and happy wasn't a word Elsa would have used to describe pacing her room, flitting through the castle at night like a thief, trying to rub warmth into her hands until the tears ran down her cheeks and dripped from her chin like icicles. (Salt water, she knew, had never been meant to freeze.)
The queen of Arendelle had resolved to smile again, otherwise the foreign dignitaries would notice. And, of course, the last few days had changed everything. Things were possible now. Elsa smiled, and smiled easily--and she'd never be like Anna, of course, so full of good cheer that it overflowed, but...Yes, she promised herself. I can be happy now. I can work on that too.
But when all was said and done, Elsa was a little out of practice with smiling, which meant that the moment she realized Princess Rapunzel's unease (and who knew unease better than the snow queen?) the smile slid from her face like a splattered snowball. "No! No, no no..." Elsa found that she'd lifted her hands--not to comfort Rapunzel, that she couldn't do--she shrank back, she had done something wrong again. She struggled to keep her composure.
"What could possibly be wrong with you?" Elsa asked, and the longing in her voice was as heavy as the snowflakes that came to rest in her hair and on her shoulders.
“Squeaker squeak squeaken? Squeakity squick.”
"Name’s Kronk, and this little fella is Bucky. Feel free to say hello to him in Squirrel. It’s what he feels most comfortable speaking.”
"I can't say that I'm--remotely--familiar with Squirrel, myself."
She waved feebly at Bucky, which at least made her feel less ridiculous.
"What brings you two to Arendelle?"
H E A V Y is the head that wears the croωɴ.
Zuhair Murad + Details
"Usually’s he’s not so shy — " Rapunzel cradled him in her palms and held him out towards the Queen in a very dignified manner. "Your Majesty, this is Pascal," she said loftily. "Pascal, this is — "
"Queen Elsa, of Arendelle," intoned the owner of that name, as solemnly as if she were greeting a foreign diplomat. But her curtsy was shallow, and before she'd risen she lifted her eyes to Rapunzel's, their expression clear--
I'm talking to a chameleon.
She spun about, and her dress practically shimmered under moonlight and the warm glows that shafted across the marble of the balcony floors, cut by both of their feminine shadows. With an effortless grace she dipped just as fluidly in to a curtsy of her own, speaking when as she rose back to full height, “Oh, thank you. That’s so kind of you to say — your Majesty.”
If Cinderella was being truthful, which she nearly always was, she wouldn’t have remembered if the other royal had attended her wedding or not, even if she was wearing some bulbous gown of vermilion that would have stuck in anyone’s memory. So much of that beautiful day had been reduced to hazy, dream-like memory, with only short splices of clarity in between.
Having been nothing but a sorry dish maid mere weeks ago, to be called your highness by anyone was jarring, but the feeling was even more potent when it came from a Queen, and with all of her grace Cinderella found herself smiling quite meekly, her hands clasping politely in front of her bodice, feeling plainly intimidated. She possessed a simple elegance that was impossible to duplicate - no matter how desperately her heinous step-sisters may have wanted to, privately - but she wasn’t vapid; she was becoming increasingly more aware of her newfound responsibilities as Crown-Princess, and they filled her with as much excitement as they did a vague dread, and yet —- there was Queen Elsa. Precisely her own age. A ruler. How could Cinderella not feel small?
“I’m sorry that we haven’t been better acquainted,” she said genuinely.
There was a certain absurdity to the statement that made Elsa smile: In the flurry of duties, documents and appointments that surrounded Elsa daily, even as a guest in another kingdom, she couldn't see how it would have been easy for any two royals to spend time together, enough to be what you'd call acquainted.
(Once, briefly, Anna might have disagreed--but Elsa had never been sorrier to be proven right, and just now she closed the door firmly on that train of thought. It doesn't count, anyway. He was pretending.)
Which was why the queen of Arendelle checked suddenly, fighting panic as her heart quickened and a cool tingle spread through her body, sharp as pain. Elsa knew so little of the princess's marriage--she had been a subject, there were unkind jokes made about her lilting and singular name--and yet, acquainted or not, there was every possibility that the story of Elsa's coronation had reached her ears in turn. In fact more.
But Cinderella's hesitation plucked at something familiar in the pit of Elsa's stomach, the unmistakable manners of a woman desperately ill-at-ease in a crowded ballroom yet attempting to conceal it. If she'd been Anna, the young queen might have reached out and half-hugged her companion--a gesture that was wildly inappropriate in diplomatic circles but, perhaps, eminently appropriate as a token of comfort.
Being Elsa, however, she stepped forward, turning slightly as if still intent on the sweeping view from the castle. The air around them was a little warmer now. "Me too," she said simply, and the curve of her smile was evident. She paused. "But I'm not in any hurry to go back in there."
"Sorry--I couldn't help but overhear, um--
"That wasn't nyorsk you were speaking at all, was it?"
Ice bros.
This is absolutely 1000% my new mental image for these two (not that it wasn’t pretty damn close before).
I wish you would tell me why
out of ice;
surprise bitches
i bet you thought you'd seen the last of me
(you did not)
goddaMN it's been a long time since I got to replies on here! (graduating college and crying over your resume and going out of town for a couple weeks to see if/then ahem will do that, incidentally) BUT i wil be flying home tomorrow! so i'm very slowly hauling ass back on tumblr and figuring out what i owe who where. for instance:
southernsideburns (i think this was pending an edit on your end and i am mostly tagging you here so that neither of us forgets to figure out what's going on)
gentlecinderella
regiamsolis x2
sensiblysensibly (we haven't actually started a thing yet and this is a problem)
IF ANYBODY ELSE would like to kick it with elsa--chat, plot, what have you--let me know!
Sometimes… The fear of losing someone is so much more P O W E R F U L Than the fear of [[ Death ]]
It had occurred to Cinderella sometime during that night’s ball that this was, in fact, not a dream. It had been weeks since she had married — though it felt more like days — and yet, when she gazed about the glittering scene she had to convince herself that the waltz she heard was plucked on real musical strings and the shimmering tiara upon her head had weight and a density to it and, in all, this new life of hers was a final, tangible reality rather than the hazy daydreams of a dish maid.
Still, as blissfully happy as she was, Cinderella decided to take a rare moment for herself. She slipped from the side of her Prince with the promise of returning soon and maneuvered herself quite carefully through the glimmering crowd, finally finding s o l a c e in the form of an apparently empty balcony. She closed her eyes against the cool night and a smile pulled gently at peach-colored lips but when footsteps sounded behind her the look turned confused.
She opened her eyes.
Elsa had a poor imagination.
Oh, she could conjure up elaborate palaces of ice and an entire army of snow people and each would be different than the last--that was different, that was something that was hers and hers alone, and she was unsurprised that the ice that burst forth from her fingertips when she was creating was as different each time as every single snowflake that fell from the sky--
But the fact remained that there were a lot of things Elsa had never done, there was only so much you could do when you kept to your room, and some things--well, she couldn't so much as imagine doing them.
Dancing, for one. At her coronation, it had seemed shamefully easy to excuse herself. I don't dance; she had never learned, unless you counted leaping across her room in an attempt to recreate the graceful moves of ballet dancers she'd admired as a child. She'd seen Weselton dance, too, and maybe that would have counted in his book, but Elsa wasn't sure she wanted to find out. Even now, when she was learning to dance from various tutors, she was shy, and it was the done thing to wear gloves at a ball, and Elsa was embarrassed not to know any of the dances here.
It's warmer than I thought, quipped a voice in her head, light and loving. Anna: how she longed for her little sister at her side right now.
The air that rushed into her lungs when she slipped out onto the balcony was light as a cloud, cool as a drink of water. The Queen of Arendelle hadn't realized how stifling the ballroom felt until now; she breathed as deeply as her corset allowed, like a fish that'd been flopping weakly on land, and felt her very veins tingle with the relief of cold.
That was before she saw her. The immaculate dress, the hair that reminded Elsa of her sister, the ring on one hand that shone in the light from indoors.
"Your Highness--!" Elsa swiftly curtsied. "I congratulated you earlier, but I didn't get to say how sorry I was that I missed your wedding."
Marriage, that was another thing that Elsa could not imagine.
This is not some silly comedy - this is the trolls prophecy. This could be our fate.
A commission for Meredith this time, featuring sisters Elsa and Anna from Frozen :) I’d done art for her before, in a Legend of Korra gift exchange a couple of years ago! It was cool getting to do something for her again. Thank you for your patronage! <3