Elsa Week (Day 7): Winter’s End (100 word drabble)
Arendelle took much pride in its flag’s symbol: the crocus. A symbol of spring–new beginnings, new dreams, new life. Children could build only so many snowmen or compete in so many snowball fights before even they got a little tired of snow. When the first buds and greenery of spring bloomed, all Arendelle celebrated with festivity, dance, and flowing wine.
And Elsa welcomed her first spring as queen with a grand ceremony, now no longer the fearful queen she had been last summer. In her heart was the spring of new growth, chasing away old fears, her winter’s end.
Winter was ending in Arendelle, bringing with it a new Spring. It was currently the transition period between the seasons, where it wasn’t quite either one yet. This was Queen Elsa’s least favourite time of the year.
The young Queen currently sat at her window in her bedroom, her mind running with too many thoughts for her to get any work done. She gazed out over her land, but did not really see it. She was lost in her own thoughts, and was too preoccupied to notice the daily ongoings of life in Arendelle.
This time of year was physically miserable. Though it was clear Spring was on its way, Winter wasn’t quite finished yet, either. The ground was wet and muddy in some places, icy with piles of dirty snow in others. Flowers weren’t in bloom yet, although the crocuses were beginning to peek out of the ground. The melting snow and ice had lost its lustre and looked rather dreary as they weakly clung onto shaded places, as any place the sun touched would prove too much for them. It wasn’t quite warm enough for Spring clothing, but it also wasn’t cold enough for Winter apparel, either. Some days it was quite pleasant and sunny, while others were miserable and rainy. The gentle Spring rains weren’t here yet, meaning half the time it would be freezing rain that would fall from the sky. All around it was a depressing time of the year.
But for Elsa it was more than that. People would often try to give themselves and others positive encouragement that this time of the year won’t last. They would go about and say things to each other - well-meaning things, of course - and would speak them as often as a greeting or a parting. They were things that were not meant to hurt, but unfortunately were said without much thought - mainly because they were mostly said between ordinary people. It was not common for them to come across someone with Winter in their veins.
These sayings often went along the lines of:
“Glad to see this cold weather going away soon? I certainly am.”
“Looking forward to Spring? I’ll be glad to finally get away from all of this miserable cold.”
“I can’t wait for Winter to be over! I love Spring!”
“Winter was great at first, but now I’m just tired of it. I can’t wait for a change.”
They never meant to hurt. Oh, but they did.
It was this time of year that Elsa’s mood was at its lowest. This year was perhaps slightly better, since having come to terms with her abilities last Summer. But it was still a painful time nonetheless. As a child, locked in her room to prevent anyone from finding out about her powers, she would often hear the servants talking to each other through her door, saying similar things around this time of year. She had always been smart for her age, sometimes a curse more than a gift, and her mind was able to make a connection. Of course they never were talking about her. But they were talking about Winter - and, in a way, she was Winter.
This time of year Winter was at its least appealing. And people were often quick to vocalize their thoughts on the matter. And though she has grown up, and knows that people aren’t talking about her, she still can’t help but understand their thoughts.
Winter was a season where nothing grew. It was cold, sometimes even bitterly so. Storms were common, and people were often left stuck in their homes for much of the year. Though there was great beauty in it, and great fun, at Winter’s end all people thought about was how great it will be once there is no more Winter. They looked forward to Spring, and Elsa didn’t blame them.
She liked Spring. In fact, she loved every season. But she would always carry Winter around with her, even on the hottest day of the year. She couldn’t escape it like other people could, and she had to assume it was because it was a part of her.
So when people made comments about how much they couldn’t wait for Winter to leave, she had no choice but to take it personally.
A knock on her door drew her out of her thoughts, but only a little. She barely managed an invitation to enter before she was sucked back into her miserable head. The door opened, and in bounced her sister.
“Elsa! Guess what?” she said excitedly, “I…” Her mood quickly sobered upon spotting her sister’s forlorn expression. “Hey, you ok?” she asked carefully.
Elsa merely shrugged, and mumbled, “I’m fine, Anna.”
“Liar,” Anna commented as she headed over to where Elsa was sitting, “Do I have to ask again, or what?”
Elsa shifted a little so Anna could plop down beside her. “It’s nothing, Anna,” she sighed, “I’m ok, really.”
“No, you’re not. You’re clearly down about something,” Anna observed. She glanced through the window Elsa was still staring listlessly out of. “It’s a beautiful day out, so that’s obviously not it,” she said as she thought of possible answers, “Um…did you get another creepy letter from a possible suitor? Or did some snobby aristocrat offend you? If anyone did, so help me I’ll-”
“It’s not anything like that,” Elsa said softly, “It’s just…this time of year.”
“Oh…” Anna said with mild surprise, “But…why? I mean, it’s finally sunny and kinda warm. And the days are longer, now. And flowers are starting to come up and soon there’ll be all kinds of little baby animals running around the gardens, and… Well, just look!” She pointed down to the town below. “People are so happy Spring’s on its way.”
“Yeah…I know they are,” Elsa said sadly, “Why wouldn’t they be?”
“They don’t have to stay all cooped up inside anymore because of Win-” Anna stopped when she remembered who she was speaking to. And suddenly everything made sense. “Oh, Elsa…” she said gently, “I’m…I’m sorry.”
Elsa rested her forehead on the cool glass of the window. Her throat felt too tight and she felt tears prickling in the corners of her eyes. But she still managed to choke out, “It’s ok.”
“No, it’s not,” Anna replied as she reached an arm around her sister and pulled her close, “And I’m sorry.”
“It’s stupid, Anna,” Elsa whispered, the slightest hint of anger now present in her voice, “I’m upset over something stupid and there is nothing you need to apologize for. This is my problem.”
“Your problems are mine, I thought we agreed on that,” Anna told her stubbornly, with a small smile for added measure, “Besides, this isn’t stupid, not if it’s hurting you. I don’t care if we have to make it a proclamation for people to stop being happy about Spring, if it’ll help you we should do it.”
“I’m not going to impose misery on others just to make myself feel better,” Elsa muttered, “If anything, that would make it worse.”
Anna sighed, and chose to not say anything for a moment as she thought about her next course of action. “Well…what exactly is it?” she asked carefully, “I mean, I know your season’s ending, but there’ll be winter again in a few months. And, hey, you could always ice the ballroom over or visit your ice palace if you really miss it.”
“I’m not sad about that,” Elsa replied, her voice still too heavy to make the statement believable, “I’m happy Spring is here. It’s just… I wish…people would stop telling me how happy they are about Spring…by telling me how much they wished Winter didn’t exist. It’s stupid, Anna, because I know they are talking about the season, but I still…”
“You still think they’re talking about you, too,” Anna finished sadly.
“My powers are Winter, Anna. And if my powers make me who I am, then…”
“You are more than your powers, Elsa. You know that,” Anna reminded her fiercely. Elsa merely shrugged, causing Anna to frown in determination. “Alright, that’s it. Up you get!” she said as she hauled her sister up to her feet, “If you don’t know that, then I’ll have to show you.”
The first place Anna dragged the Queen to was her study. But she didn’t stop at the bookcases or the desk - she kept going to the large window that overlooked the main town. “What do you see, Elsa?” Anna asked.
“Anna…” Elsa said with a heavy sigh.
“Come on. Just humour me,” Anna begged, “Please?”
Elsa eventually relented, although there was no enthusiasm in her voice when she said, “The town. It’s a similar view as the one from my room.”
“But not quite,” Anna told her, before pointing to something off in the distance. “What’s that?”
Elsa glanced in that direction, before frowning. “It’s the new school house,” she answered with confusion. And indeed it was: the new school wasn’t complete yet, but the frame was clearly visible and about half of the roof was on. It was the biggest schoolhouse in the entire Kingdom, and was large enough to house all of the town’s children and then some.
“Exactly. And that wouldn’t be there if it wasn’t for you,” Anna told her, running to the desk and rummaging through some documents, pulling out the ones she deemed important. She brought them back over to Elsa, and explained what each one was as she returned. “This one is the new education system you outlined. And this one is your new healthcare bill. And these are your plans for a new hospital. And this one here is describing the greenhouses you plan to build for local farmers so they can grow things even in the winter.”
“Yes…” Elsa said slowly, “And?”
“Elsa, don’t you see? All of these things are really going to help the people,” Anna said sincerely, a proud smile gracing her face as she spoke, “That school is going to allow kids to learn new things that they never would have had a chance to learn before. The hospital and healthcare system will mean that people won’t have to worry so much about affording expensive doctors when they’re sick. The greenhouses will help farmers during the months when they normally don’t have much of an income.”
“I just…I just want people’s lives to be good,” Elsa said shyly, staring out the window once more at the townsfolk going about their days.
“But that’s just it,” Anna stressed, “You’ve done more in a few months than most monarchs do in their whole lives. You fought so hard and so well for these changes that even some of the councilmen who Papa struggled against listened to you. The people love you, Elsa, because they know you’ll look after them.”
“Well, I…” Elsa stammered, purposely avoiding eye contact to keep crying, “I…I know that, Anna. I know they care, but-”
“Ah! No buts!” Anna interrupted, once again taking her sister’s hand and pulling her away, “I’m not done yet. Come on!”
Anna dragged Elsa through the halls once more, only this time it was with far less direction. She went in and out of rooms, down one hallway and then up another, seemingly scouring the whole castle for something. Before Elsa could ask what that was, Anna came to an abrupt stop and directed her toward another window.
Below was the back courtyard where the stables were. There were guards and servants moving about, but the two most noticeable figures were Sven and Olaf playing about in the puddles in the cobblestone. Olaf’s flurry was working overtime as it reformed snow the water was melting away, but the pair were completely happy playing together.
Elsa turned back to Anna when she heard her sister’s amused laughter beside her. “You know what’s funny?” Anna asked simply, not looking away from the pair, “The fact that the Snow Queen made a snowman who absolutely adores summer and all things hot. Were you trying to be ironic, or something?”
Elsa shot her a befuddled look. “N…no,” she replied, “I…I had no idea he would like summer so much. I didn’t even expect him to come to life. I just…made him.”
“And…” Anna said expectantly.
“And… what?”
“Elsa, Olaf is a part of you,” Anna stated, “You made him, both on the mountain and back when we were kids and you said his go-to introduction in that goofy voice. Right then and there, you came up with a snowman who likes summer, and goofing off, and making jokes and feeling warmth. Because, deep down, you like those things, too. All of those things were just personified as a snowman.”
Elsa looked from Anna, to Olaf still playing around in the courtyard below, and back to Anna again. “I…I think you’re thinking too hard about Olaf, Anna,” she said nervously.
“Or you’re not thinking enough. When I see Olaf, I think of you back when we were little, before the accident,” Anna told her softly, “I think of someone who gave the warmest hugs I’ve ever known, someone who I could talk to when I was sad or angry, someone who loved more than anyone I knew. And you know what? That’s how I still see you. When I see Olaf, I’m reminded of all the warm things that make you you.”
Elsa said nothing, and instead stared out the window at her snowman down below.
“Come on,” Anna said, “There’s one more thing I want to show you.”
Upon Elsa’s small, confirming nod, she took her hand and led her down the stairs and out into the gardens. Not much had grown, yet. The grass was turning green, but aside from that, there was not much colour.
However, there was a tiny spot of white. Upon first glance, it looked like a bit of snow that had been spared from melting. But it was too pure a shade of white, unlike the dirty snow that remained on the ground in the corners of the garden. As they approached it, they could see that it was framed by thin, green leaves, and the realization came that it was not snow at all: it was a crocus.
“First one of the year,” Anna stated proudly, “I spent the whole morning looking for flowers, and this is the only one in the garden. But look: there are more on their way. And this one will have a friend, soon.” She pointed to a blooming crocus beside the white one. It was on its way, perhaps in a day or so. It was going to be a golden shade of yellow.
“Is this why you came bursting into my room today?” Elsa asked quietly.
“Yep! Because you know what they say about crocuses. Once they bloom, Spring’s officially here!”
Elsa frowned and let out a heavy sigh.
“But that’s not all they say about them,” Anna continued quickly, “And you really should know about this. It’s why the crocus is on all of our banners and stuff.”
Of course Elsa knew. The symbolism of Arendelle’s heraldic shields and crests have been drilled into her head before she even had to start learning how to be a Queen. The crocus had been chosen because of it’s resilience against the cold and snow. It was always the first flower to bloom, even if there was still a lot of snow on the ground. It was said that the founders of Arendelle were like the crocus, because despite living in the harsh, frozen and rugged land they thrived and grew into a powerful, influential nation.
“What’s your point, Anna?” Elsa asked quietly.
“The crocus represents Arendelle, but as Queen, so do you. So, in a way, this crocus represents you, too,” Anna replied with a smile.
“A flower meant to stand up against the cold represents someone with nothing but cold inside of them?”
“What did I say, like, ten minutes ago? You’re the furthest thing from cold, Elsa.”
“I still don’t understand how a crocus is supposed to represent me. Maybe a plant that does better in winter, like a pine or holly, but not a flower.”
“But you’re not prickly like a pine or holly,” Anna argued, “You’re gentle and soft. But you are also strong, and brave, and stand up against things that hurt most other people. You may have Winter powers, but your spirit is Spring and your personality Summer. A crocus is the first to rise up out of the ground and face the new world after a long time spent hiding from the cold. Other flowers then follow its lead. You spent your whole childhood hiding away from a similar cold, but now you’re the Queen and everyone looks up to you. They want to follow you, and they would never wish for you to go away.”
Elsa said nothing, instead leaning into her sister and wrapping her arms tightly around her. Anna returned the hug without hesitation.
“You aren’t just Winter, Elsa,” Anna said gently, “You’re a little bit of every season, and then so much more. Please don’t forget that.”
She felt Elsa weakly nod against her shoulder.
“I love you, Elsa. The people love you. So many people love you, and they don’t want you to leave.”
Elsa sniffled. When she pushed back a little to look at her sister’s face, Anna saw that tears had come to the Queen’s eyes. “Thank you,” Elsa breathed happily.
“Don’t mention it,” Anna said nonchalantly, “You know I can’t stand seeing you down.”
“I don’t deserve you, Anna,” Elsa sighed.
“Yes, you do. You deserve whatever makes you happy,” Anna told her, probably for the millionth time. She hoped one of these days she could stop saying it - that it would just be a given.
“Y…you didn’t have to do…this. I…I probably would have felt better in a couple of hours.”
“But are you feeling better?”
Elsa nodded, a small smile gracing her face.
“Then of course I had to. No wallowing in sadness for you,” Anna said teasingly.
Elsa’s smile grew before she pulled Anna in to her embrace again. They remained there for a few moments, allowing the silence to speak for them. Anna could feel Elsa’s body shift from being slightly cold to warm, and knew that her sister truly was feeling better.
When they finally pulled away, Anna suggested, “Come on. Let’s go get some hot chocolate. I know it’s not really a Spring drink but I have a craving for it.”
Elsa laughed softly. “Sounds good,” she said. Then her eyes danced down to the ground, where the crocus was still standing proudly, swaying slightly in the soft breeze. “H…hang on, just for one moment,” she said shakily, as she bent down to be closer to it.
“What’s up?” Anna asked as she observed her sister’s face, which had shifted into a frown of concentration, “What are you doing?”
“You remember when I thawed everything back in July?” Elsa asked quietly, “Things didn’t just melt. Plants and leaves grew, too.”
“So…what are you saying?”
Elsa didn’t answer right away. Instead, she carefully reached out to the yellow crocus beside the white one, and tenderly touched the bud. The flower trembled a little, then slowly burst out of the bud and bloomed, full and beautiful. Elsa withdrew her hand and said with a small smile, “There. Now the first one has a friend.”
Anna bent down and wrapped an arm around her sister’s shoulders. “That’s certainly better, isn’t it?” she asked softly.
“Yes,” Elsa replied, reaching for Anna’s hand and giving it a small squeeze, “It absolutely is.”
Put the rest under a “read more”, and yes, while it is sad at the start, it becomes pretty damn fluffy toward the end, I promise!
Since the horrible accident and since the gloves came on to suppress her curse, Elsa began wearing jackets. Snug against her form, Elsa came to believe that somehow, like the gloves, her variety of dark blue jackets held her curse captive, buried it deep inside her body, so no-one could see the monster within.
Even as young as eight, Elsa was trying on her mother’s jackets, even though they were too big for such a little girl. The sleeves dangled off her hands, bulked up at the shoulders, and dragged on the floor. Nevertheless, the jacket, big on her tiny eight-year-old form, offered a sense of security, like her own mother’s embrace. Wrapping her arms around herself, Elsa turned to look in a full-length mirror, studying how the clothing article engulfed her form, a barrier between herself and the rest of the world--everyone she did not want to hurt, like she had hurt Anna.
Soon enough, the jackets became her security, and soon she did not feel properly clothed without one, like she was exposed. Her curse should never be exposed, be laid bare. Her first jacket was gifted to her at nine years of age, a few days before her first pair of gloves, white and firm on her hands. She appreciated this gift, how it was tight on her shoulders, across her little torso, a sort of stiffness in the fabric, like a restraint--a restraint for someone fearsome such as herself. Even at this tender age of nine, Elsa looked in the mirror, tightened her jacket with its firm fit across her body, and saw only someone who deserved to be restrained like a criminal. Like a beast. A monster.
Blue, dark and sombre, coloured her first few jackets, heightening the beautiful hue of her irises, although all she saw in them was a girl who deserved to be locked away and hidden from the rest of the world. Catching her reflection in a mirror, she would avoid her eyes, just staring at her jacket, her white gloves clutching at bony elbows. She would study the clasps marching up the front of the jacket, the solid hems outlining the tailored clothing.
Jackets were safe. Jackets were secure. Jackets held her curse inside, burrowed it from the world, from Anna. As long as she had her jacket, she could hide her curse from the world. From Arendelle. From Anna.
Wearing her best deep purple jacket didn’t save her parents from drowning in a shipwreck in the middle of the ocean. Nor did her black mourning jacket protect her from hearing Anna’s immeasurable grief when she knocked at the door after the funeral of the late King and Queen. Nor did it protect her from hearing Anna slide down the door, the soft thump as her sister slumped to the floor, or the crack in her little sister’s voice as she spoke through the wood.
And it most certainly didn’t protect her from hearing Anna’s sobbing from the other side of the door. She hugged her knees to her chest, wrapping her arms around them, leaning her head down to muffle her sobs in her skirt, eyes clenched shut. As long as she kept her eyes closed, she could pretend she was holding Anna, crying with her.
I love you, Anna, I’m so sorry...
She let it go with her cloak--all the pain, all the grief, all the terrible thoughts that had plagued her back in Arendelle. Cloaks--and jackets--were so confining, so restrictive, so stifling. Out here in her palace, she couldn’t imagine ever wearing another jacket--and now she could understand why Anna never wore them, not even in the middle of winter’s death grip when the sun stayed in the sky for barely one hour before sinking down again. Jackets were an anathema to Anna, one with such a free spirit and beauty that deserved to shine. Jackets would only hide away the sunshine in her, akin to forcing the sun itself into a windowless dungeon.
I’ll never wear another jacket again.
Anna was free now--free to be a queen while Elsa became one with the wind and sky up here in the North Mountain, far away from anyone she could hurt or touch. She could be free, freer than she had ever felt for thirteen years. Freer than she had ever felt wearing even the softest jacket.
I’m free.
The sunrise was more glorious than she had ever remembered it to be in her life.
I’ll never hurt anyone again...
Several months after the Great Thaw, Elsa stared at her closet, at the collection of jackets hanging inside, not touched ever since right before her coronation day. There was the black mourning jacket she had worn after their parents died, the purple one she had worn when she had bid them farewell, and the dark blue one that she could no longer fit into after her last little growth spurt after her parents’ death. The sleeves had become a little too short, and the bodice a bit too snug around her bosom. She bit her lip, wondered if she ought to give the jackets away; she could not bring herself to offer any to Anna, not even if her little sister fit into the smaller ones. There were just too many dark memories clinging to them, and anyway, they just wouldn’t look right on Anna.
Who would I give them to?
She didn’t want them, Anna wouldn’t be interested anyway, and probably none of the staff would want them either.
Then whom?
Elsa turned away from the wardrobe and strolled outside into the hall, letting her feet wander to the library so she could stare out across the courtyard. She found herself smiling involuntarily at the sight of three little children playing together, a little toy shared between all of them. But when she saw the ragged appearance of their clothes, her charmed smile faded, consternation furrowing her brow.
They must be so cold...
Recollections formed in her head--of hearing her parents discussing the homeless and the orphanage’s struggling to find funds and warm clothing for its charges. They had plenty of willing volunteers helping out, but they could always use more clothes and blankets.
She thought again of the jackets hanging unwanted in her wardrobe.
No, scratch that.
Those jackets were wanted.
They were warm, they were snug, they could protect against the chill. They could certainly fit little orphan children playing in the courtyard.
The tiniest of smiles returned as she imagined the looks on the little children’s faces when they saw the queen herself offering warm clothes to keep out the chill. How their eyes would widen, their jaws drop open, little shy hands--chapped and red from exposure--reaching toward the jackets.Their awed, hushed voices thanking the good Queen Elsa for her generous gift. And she imagined too how they would then skip back home to their homes or the orphanage, shouting about the gift from the Queen herself. Maybe some misty-eyed mother warming a little baby in her arms as she sat by the fire would draw the child into a hug, marvelling at the generosity of Queen Elsa, how giving and selfless she was to think of the suffering of a poor child with barely anything to keep out the cold.
Turning away from the window with new resolve, the Queen quietly departed to look for her dear little sister, whose heart was just as generous and warm as her own.
She will love this idea, I know it...
Now, several days later, Elsa happened to be watching from the window of the library that overlooked the courtyard and bridge beyond. She saw those three little children playing again, so happy and carefree as they chased each other up and down the bridge.
One of them now wore a little blue jacket with black hemming, gifted by the generous Queen Elsa and warm-hearted Princess Anna themselves.
And the sisters knew that now at least one little girl would have a warmer Christmas this year, all thanks to the gift of a queen blessed with the power of snow magic, and a princess blessed with unconditional selflessness.
Fit for a Queen (Jacket Day!) - Elsa Week: Day Six
Merry Christmas, guys! Wherever you may be, I hope it’s a fun, relaxing day for all of you.
In today’s instalment for Elsa Week, we find Elsa returning to some of her old outfits. But maybe there’s another reason besides angst for why she’s donning a jacket once again.
Elsa opened up her wardrobe. It had felt like forever since she had actually looked at her old dresses, what with her new choice of attire. Her ice dress, and subsequent variations of it, had been her main preference since the Thaw. But that was a few months ago. Now, the novelty of always wearing a glittering gown made of magic and ice had worn off slightly. And she was also tired. Despite how she made it look, forming a new dress each day was exhausting, even more so if she wanted to change something on it. While Elsa had never been one to pass off creativity, the repetitious nature of forming a dress each day on top of just the mental wear from constant meetings and paperwork left her not feeling up to it today. Hence her presence at the wardrobe.
It was December in Arendelle, just a few weeks before her birthday and Christmas. Celebrations were all around, and the excitement for the upcoming festivities hung in the air. As Queen, she was expected to make quite a few appearances. As the Snow Queen, she was expected to make a few more. So days like today, when she had very little on the go and could retire early to the library to pick up a good book, left her wanting to wear something a tad more comfortable.
The Ice Dress was absolutely comfortable…for her anyway. It was not only made specifically for her body, but by her own hand and her own magic. However, despite not being able to feel the cold of the ice, something about it still made her feel uneasy at times. Perhaps it was the slit up the side of the skirt that every now and then had her wondering what she had been thinking, or the way her shoulders, back and neck were exposed so much, or even how the fabric was so in-tune with her body and magic that she sometimes felt like it wasn’t even there.
Sometimes she liked the feel of smooth linen and soft cashmere. Sometimes she missed how actual clothing would wrap around her form and be warm, reminding her that her body was still capable of producing heat, not just cold. Sometimes she liked how fabric made her feel safe and secure, like she was wearing armour that wasn’t made of iron but felt just as strong.
That’s what her old clothing felt like, hence the reason she was donning the dark blue dress and jacket she hadn’t worn it what felt like forever. It had been long enough that she spent extra time smoothing out any wrinkles or creases, simply so she could admire what she never thought she would miss. She had never felt the embroidery on this outfit with her bare hands. With a tender touch and a slight tremble in her fingers, she traced the intricate stitching along the jacket’s cuffs, in awe of something someone had taken the time to painstakingly create by hand instead of just the flick of a wrist.
Everything fit to her form perfectly. Nothing was uncomfortably tight or loose. It reminded her that someone had made this for her, someone who had likely been well aware that they were sewing something for the then-soon-to-be-Queen because they were working off her measurements. They were dealing with colours she had, at the time, selected. They were dealing with rosemaling patterns she had chosen, but left allowances for the dressmaker to add their own designs should they wish it.
She left her braid and swept back hair as it was. She already knew her sister would likely freak out over her sudden dress change, but she figured keeping the hairstyle she normally wore with the Ice Dress might help Anna relax. And she also left the pair of white gloves that would have gone with the outfit where they were in a locked box in her vanity.
The castle servants didn’t seem to bat an eye, or they were really good at hiding it. Gerda gave it away a little when she stopped Elsa as she was heading to the study and quietly asked if anything was wrong. Elsa shrugged off the question with a calm response, assuring the worried maid that everything was fine and she simply felt like a change for today.
Five minutes later and Elsa figured Gerda must have gone to Anna when the Princess all but slammed the study door open and flew in like a bat out of hell. Anna gaped a little at Elsa when she first spotted her before demanding hurriedly, “Are you ok? What’s up? Anything you want to talk about?”
Elsa playfully rolled her eyes, and with a smile replied, “I’m fine, Anna. I just didn’t want to make another dress this morning.”
“But…” Anna sputtered, “But you’re wearing a…a before dress.”
“A ‘before’ dress?” Elsa returned with an eyebrow raised.
“Yeah, you know…” Anna explained nervously as she headed closer to the desk, “Like, before the Thaw or your Coronation. When everything was…you know…”
“Worse?”
“I was gonna say different.”
Elsa sighed heavily. “Anna, I swear I’m not spiralling downwards in depression today,” she told her sister with the slightest hint of annoyance, “I swear I’m fine. I just… Do you even know how much effort it takes to make a new ice gown every day?”
“I thought you just waved your hand and poof, it’s there,” Anna said innocently as she took a seat across from her sister, “Is it really that hard?”
“It’s…it’s difficult to explain,” Elsa stammered as she struggled to find the right words, “It’s not hard, I suppose. But it’s not easy, either. It comes to me naturally, but…there’s still a lot of thought involved.”
“You’re just making a dress, Elsa,” Anna told her, “Don’t you just…imagine a dress?”
“Yes, but I have to imagine everything that makes a dress, well, a dress. I have to make the ice form in a way that acts like fabric. I have to make sure it’s delicate enough to be comfortable, but not so delicate that it’ll be see-through or easily breakable. I have to make sure everything is stitched together correctly. I-”
“Wait, you actually use ice thread to stitch your gowns together?” Anna interrupted in awe.
“Well, yeah. How else would I make a dress?” Elsa asked simply.
“You can’t just…fuse things together?”
“…But then it wouldn’t feel like a dress.”
Anna stared at her for a second before realization dawned on her face. “Oh,” she said, “Now I get it. That would be kind of a pain, wouldn’t it?”
“Like I said, it’s not that it’s hard. It’s just…exhausting. And…it’s almost boring now,” Elsa admitted quietly, “It’s not so much this amazing thing I can do, instead more of a chore. I just wanted a break today.”
“Well why didn’t you just say so?”
“I did say so.”
Anna’s mouth formed the shape of a silent ‘oh’. “Right,” she said sheepishly, “Sorry.”
“Is wearing this really that concerning to everybody?” Elsa questioned self-consciously, setting her pen down to fidget with her hands.
Anna caught the motion with worry and replied quickly, “No! No, it’s just…uh… Odd, I guess? To see you wearing that after all this time.”
“It’s only been a few months,” Elsa said weakly.
“But so much has changed in those few months that it feels like longer,” Anna told her gently.
Elsa looked down for a moment before glancing back up at her sister with big, concerned eyes. “Have I changed that much?”
“Well…yeah,” was all Anna could come up with. There was something about Elsa’s expression that reminded her of a sad, confused puppy and she was afraid of saying anything to make it worse. “But it’s all been for the best, right?” When Elsa didn’t respond right away, Anna questioned carefully, “Elsa?”
“Do you know why I like this outfit so much, Anna?” Elsa asked, so quietly that Anna barely caught it. She could only shake her head, as she couldn’t fathom why Elsa would still be attached to something that held so many bad memories. “It reminds me of Mama and Papa,” Elsa answered in the same soft tone.
“It…it does?” Anna questioned, not sure what her sister was talking about.
“Mama wore a similar dress, with the same rosemaling pattern and broach,” Elsa told her, reaching up to gently touch the sapphire stone on her collar, “But Papa always wore a jacket. See these bars on the sleeve? They’re the same as his. They represent the Royal’s position overlooking the military and navy. It’s sort of an honorary role, of course, but…”
“But…your ice dress is you,” Anna protested weakly, “Y…you should wear what you want, but… Could you not compromise?”
“But my ice dress has no connection to them, Anna,” Elsa sighed, “And I’ve tried to replicate this one with my magic, but it’s not the same. It…it doesn’t feel right, somehow.”
Anna sat for a moment in thought. An idea was formulating in her mind but the details of it weren’t quite there yet. After a minute, her perky mood returned, and she said, “Well, ok then. You do whatever you like. You are the Queen, after all.”
“So you’re ok with this?” Elsa confirmed slowly.
“If you’re happy, then I’m happy,” Anna replied, “And I get it. If this helps you get closer to them…then go for it.”
“Thanks, Anna,” Elsa said sincerely, “That means a lot.”
“Yeah…yeah, no problem,” Anna returned distantly, her thoughts beginning to take over again, “Well, I should let you get back to work, and I’ll tell Gerda not to worry anymore.”
Elsa smiled. “Thanks again, Anna.”
“Yeah, don’t mention it.” On her way out, all Anna could think in her mind was, ‘Just wait until you find out what I have in store for you, Elsa. Hopefully you’ll love it.’
“Anna, have you seen my dress?”
Anna tried to make herself look as innocent as possible. When that didn’t work and Elsa continued to eye her suspiciously, she shovelled an extra big forkful of pancake into her mouth as an excuse for why she couldn’t answer.
Elsa sighed in annoyance and plunked herself down at the table. “I looked everywhere but I couldn’t find my dark blue one,” she continued as she got started on her breakfast.
Anna swallowed nervously. “Not feeling like dress making again, today?” she asked, noting the lavender dress her sister was wearing. It was almost identical to the other one, including the jacket. But the embroidery was a little different and the colours were much more similar to their mother’s choice of dresses.
Elsa shook her head. “No need for me to appear as the ‘Snow Queen’ today. Council’s on a break until the New Year and I’m free from any public appearances for the day,” she answered, looking relieved at having some leisure time.
“Oh, well that’s good.”
“You still haven’t told me what happened to my dress.”
“Why do you think I took it?” Anna demanded, “Maybe Gerda did. Or what if a bunch of trolls snuck in and stole it? Or Kristoff borrowed it for something.”
“First of all, Gerda has no idea either. Second, trolls don’t like to leave the Valley. And third, I’d sooner believe that those trolls snuck into the castle than Kristoff would risk getting caught in my room,” Elsa said dryly, “Seriously, what did you do with it?”
“I didn’t do anything! Maybe it disappeared to a magical land, or something,” Anna said with a wave of her hand, “I invite you to check my room if you’re so certain I have it!”
And that was how Anna ended up being forced to clean her room for the whole day, because one look at the Princess’ closet nearly gave the neat-freak Queen a heart attack. She never did find the dress, which was the only thing that left Anna with smug satisfaction as she tidied up the disaster zone that was her bedroom.
Christmas finally came after weeks of preparation and excitement. Anna was the first to wake up, and Elsa was the first to be woken up by her. Once she had checked to make sure that Anna hadn’t dislocated her shoulder after leaping from the doorway onto her bed to bounce her out of it, she donned a robe and followed her excited sister down to the tree and presents. They would have a much larger gift exchange later on, but the morning was reserved for just the two of them to share some quality sister time.
Anna opened her gift from Elsa, which was a collection of the finest chocolate from all over Europe and a necklace Elsa had made herself, charmed with magic that would let Anna sense her sister’s presence even if Elsa was on the other side of the ocean. After finally releasing the Queen from a tight hug, Anna bounded away to retrieve her gift for Elsa.
Elsa raised an eyebrow at the size of the box. “I know it’s kinda big, but you’ll understand when you open it,” Anna told her.
Elsa carefully took the lid off the box, purposely going slowly with a sly grin to bug her inpatient sister. But when she pulled back the tissue paper, the grin fell away into a shocked expression.
There in the box was a jacket, similar to the one she had started wearing more of as of late. The fabric was a beautiful royal blue, with darker navy trim. The familiar rosemaling pattern bordered the cuffs and edges in light purples, reds, and darker violets. The bars on the cuffs were still there, but there was more space left on this one. It didn’t seem as detailed, and even more interestingly, there was a broach set on the collar but only the metal backing for one. The dress to match the jacket was underneath, at it bore similar features.
Anna bounced up and down in anticipation. “Well?” she asked excitedly, with a hint of apprehension, “Do you like it?”
“Well, now I know where my dress went,” Elsa said quietly.
“I can give that back to you now, too,” Anna said quickly, “I needed to steal it so I could give the dressmaker your measurements without actually measuring you, ‘cause that kinda would’ve given this away. So…what do you think?”
“I… It’s beautiful, Anna,” Elsa said earnestly, “But… why the empty broach?”
“You like this style of dress because it reminds you of Mama and Papa, but recreating it as an ice dress didn’t work. So I wondered how you would feel about having a real dress, but having space on that dress to do your own thing to it. So… you can use the blank stuff to make this dress you, you know?”
Elsa stared at her for a moment, and Anna initially was worried. ‘Oh god, she doesn’t like it. This was stupid. I never should have-’
That thought was immediately interrupted by a crushing hug. “Thank you,” Elsa whispered tearfully, “Thank you, Anna.”
“Y…you like it?” Anna questioned.
“Like it? I love it!” Elsa laughed, “It’s perfect, Anna.”
Anna waited in anticipation, bouncing a little on her sister’s bed as Elsa changed behind a screen. “So, how’s it fit?” she asked as she played with the snowflake pendent Elsa had given her absentmindedly.
“Great! You’ll have to send my compliments to your designer,” Elsa replied as she stepped into view.
“Yeah, Hilda’s incredible! She’s done all of my dresses since I was twelve, I think,” Anna told her, “And it looks amazing on you already! So, what are you gonna do for the extra designs?”
Elsa’s brows knitted together in concentration as she moved over to the floor-length mirror. She inspected the cuffs of her sleeves, and the hems of the jacket and the skirt. Anna watched with fascination as Elsa would wave her hand just a little as she tried out samples of different patterns, creating several at once before meticulously eliminating them until she settled on the right one.
“Did you put this much effort into every dress you made?” Anna asked with a laugh.
Elsa waved a hand down her front, and the rosemaling design she had chosen swept downwards to complete the ornamentation on the dress. “No, honestly. I think this is the first time I’ve really thought about a detail like this,” she replied, “It’s actually a nice change.”
Anna stared in awe at her sister’s outfit. Elsa had selected a pattern that was a little more geometric than the more floral hand-stitched decoration. It matched the broach perfectly, which Elsa had chosen to fill with a perfectly smooth gem of ice - very similar to the actual sapphire ones - only this one she had formed a small snowflake in the middle of the gem, making it look like the fractal was suspended in glass. The details on the dress glimmered white in the sun, but in shadow they were a softer blue so as not to outshine the embroidery. Anna’s favourite part was the skirt of the dress, where Elsa had chosen to accentuate the snowflake motif a bit more by having a half section of her signature design spaced between the crocus pattern that was already there.
“There,” Anna stated happily, “Now you really look like the Snow Queen.”
“And… It’s not too…close to the past?” Elsa questioned shakily, closing in on herself a little with worry.
“Elsa…does it make you happy? Do you like it?” Anna asked with a warm smile.
Elsa looked at her reflection once more, studying her form closely. After a few minutes, she turned back to Anna, and said earnestly, “Yes. I…I love it.”
Anna moved forward and took her sister’s hands in her own. “Then that’s all that matters,” she told her, “But if it makes you feel better, I love it, too. This style…I know it’s a reminder of the past, but I also remember the good things from the past, too. Like…the first jacket you ever wore! You let me try it on, and I practically swam in it!”
“I wasn’t that much bigger than you,” Elsa said with a laugh.
“But I remember the sleeves were really long and floppy. I kept hitting you with them, remember? Until Mama made me stop because it was un-ladylike.”
“You also liked the pockets,” Elsa continued with a reminiscent grin, patting the pockets on her jacket for emphasis, “Because we could sneak more cookies out of the kitchen if we hid them in my jacket.”
“Yeah. How come all dresses don’t have pockets? It’s not fair,” Anna demanded playfully. Then she carefully traced Elsa’s newly-crafted embroidery on the cuff of her sleeve. “You really out-did yourself, here,” she murmured gently, admiring the intricate designs.
“I just wanted to make it perfect,” Elsa told her, “You gave it to me, and I just…”
“Oh Elsa,” Anna sighed, pulling her sister into a warm hug, “I know.” She knew, all right. She knew Elsa cherished it because it was something her little sister had gifted to her. She knew Elsa would likely treasure this dress forever, even after the seams had worn out and the colours had faded. She knew this meant a lot to Elsa because with this gift Anna had told her that she understood that a lot of things had changed almost all at once, and it was ok for her big sister to return to some of the things that made her comfortable before. She knew that Elsa loved it, because it was given to her with the pure love Anna had for her in mind.
“Thank you again, Anna,” Elsa breathed.
“You’re welcome,” Anna said as she pulled back a little to give her sister a wide grin, “And you know something? I kind of prefer this look. Nothing against the Ice Dress, of course! But… This,” she said as she gently tugged on the jacket’s collar to straighten it, “Was the Elsa that I remember from long ago, before anything bad happened and we could just play and have fun. But this,” she added as she pointed to the icy rosemaling, “Is who you’ve become. An incredible, beautiful, strong woman who has embraced her talents and made them a part of her identity.
“I mean, I still like the Ice Dress, though,” she concluded sheepishly, “Don’t give up on that completely, please?”
Elsa chuckled warmly. “Don’t worry, I won’t. I’ll still probably wear it more for public displays and such. After all, it is a part of the ‘Snow Queen’ image I have going on,” she said.
“But you’ll wear this around the castle?”
Elsa nodded.
“Good,” Anna stated as she hugged her sister tightly again, “I like hugging you better in this dress. It’s not as cold.”
“Seriously?”
“What? The other one’s a dress made out of ice. Just because you can’t feel it doesn’t mean no one else can!”
“Well, if that’s the case, I might be inclined to purchase more of these dresses.”
“Great! Hilda will be happy! She was honestly kinda worried after she found out you could make your own dresses,” Anna informed her.
“I don’t think she really has to,” Elsa told her teasingly, “I would have still needed a good dressmaker for odds and ends, and you need one about once a week.”
Re-posting this, only now on Tumblr. This was the first fanfic I’ve ever posted online, and you can still find it on Fanfiction.net. But I figured since one of the prompts for Elsa week was Julaften, Julenissen I would put this up for more people to see. I’ve tweaked it a little, but it’s mainly just editing things that I’ve noticed over the year.
In the first week of December, an unseasonal warm spell hit the Nordic kingdom of Arendelle. This sort of thing happened every decade or so: the air temperature would suddenly spike up several degrees and a few days of alternating sunshine and warm rain effectively melted all of the existing snow on the ground. Only a few measly little piles remained, remnants of what once were giant piles of cold powder.
For the Princess of Arendelle, this natural phenomenon was about as unnerving as a freak snowstorm in the middle of July. December was the month of winter, meaning it was supposed to have snow – not rain. She was supposed to be outside building snowmen, and having snowball fights, and making snow angels, and attempting to skate, and sledding down snowy hills – not sitting at her bedroom window, looking sadly outside as the gray sky released fat drops of water down to the ground below. Heck, even if she was inside, she was supposed to be sitting by a roaring fire while snow softly fell outside the window.
She remembered the same thing happening a few years ago, when she was twelve. She remembered attempting to enjoy the last of the slushy snow, only to end up tracking mud all through the castle and being scolded by her parents. She remembered hoping and praying for snow all month long. She remembered her disappointment that for the first time she could remember, there was a green Christmas in Arendelle.
At the time, she had no idea why it was so important for it to snow around the holidays. It was definitely something more than it not feeling like Christmas without snow – it had something to do with her go-to phrase to try and bring her sister out of her room.
Asking, and singing, and begging her older sister: “Do you want to build a snowman?” always immediately followed her knock on the snowflake-patterned door as a greeting, even in the middle of summer. She did not know exactly why she needed to say it, but she did remember her sister always responding to it in the past. But then things suddenly and quite painfully changed, and no matter what she tried, her sister would not acknowledge her. At least in the winter, however, there actually was snow, so there was a real reason for asking about snowmen.
Now, however, Princess Anna was older and had been through and seen a number of things that, if she had the chance to travel back in time and tell her past self about them, she would never have believed.
Her once reclusive older sister, Elsa, was known as the Snow Queen of Arendelle.
It was not because the young Queen was cold hearted. In fact it was quite the opposite. No, Queen Elsa was called the Snow Queen because she possessed a rare and incredibly powerful magic within her heart and soul: she had the power to control ice and snow. It had been through a series of tragic and unfortunate events surrounding her powers that led to her being forced to hide them from everyone, including her sister. But all secrets eventually have to come out, and on the night of her coronation, Elsa’s darkest secret revealed itself.
However, after everything was fixed and explanations were given, things settled down into a state of normalcy. Elsa took up the mantle of absolute monarch and ruled Arendelle with humility and graciousness. She had not even been Queen for six months, and already people saw her as one of the best rulers Arendelle has ever had. Anna spent her plentiful free time with the two people she cared the most about in the whole world: her ice harvester boyfriend, Kristoff, and her sister. The people of Arendelle quickly accepted a sorceress as their Queen and, if anything, loved her more for her unique gift despite knowing what it could do.
Anna sighed heavily as she stared out the window. She was no stranger to boredom, but now she was bored and depressed. It was not supposed to be raining in December, and yes, she was aware that she had thought this bitterly about two minutes ago.
Then she suddenly remembered something that made her smack herself in the forehead. “Oh my gosh, I’m an idiot,” she muttered as she sprung to her feet, “I know exactly how to fix this!” And with that, she sprinted out of her room.
Queen Elsa had spent much of her life alone, out of what she had deemed necessity. Now that the gates were open, along with many of her internal doors, she no longer had to be alone all the time. That did not mean that she did not enjoy the solitude every now and then. It was especially welcome when she had piles of documents to go through in her study, as privacy meant silence, and silence meant getting work done with ease.
And if there was ever anyone who was the best at shattering silence, it was her sister, Anna.
Anna threw the doors to the study wide open so forcefully that they crashed against the walls as they sung apart, but Anna was too excited to notice. “Elsa!” she shouted happily, “I just had the best idea ever!”
Elsa was too busy trying to restart her heart to find amusement in that statement. “Does this idea involve knocking, by any chance?” she wondered as she thawed her quill, which had spontaneously frozen over when she jumped in surprise.
Anna’s eyes brightened. “Yes, it does, actually,” she stated proudly. She then reached for one of the doors and rapped her signature knock on the wood. “Do you wanna build a snowman?” she sang happily.
Elsa chuckled warmly. “In a few minutes, Anna. I just need to finish this letter–”
“But we can’t do it right now…” Anna continued to sing, dancing into the room as she did.
“I just said in a few–”
“Because it’s warm and wet outside, and though I’ve tried, I simply don’t know how.”
“What are you talking about?”
“The season’s s’pposed to be pretty, clean and white. So what are we gonna do?”
Elsa merely waited for her to finish with an eyebrow raised.
Anna put on her best puppy-dog eyes and pleading smile. “Do you wanna bring back winter?”
Elsa sighed. “Anna, you know how I feel about altering the weather,” she began slowly.
“Oh come on, Elsa! You’re the Snow Queen! And it’s winter, for crying out loud! Arendelle should be a snowy wonderland! Instead, it’s all wet and muddy and definitely not festive.”
“Technically, winter doesn’t start until the solstice in a few weeks,” Elsa reminded her as she went back to writing.
“It still snowed last month,” Anna protested, “And it gets dark stupidly early and stays that way for a really long time. To me, that counts as winter.”
“Anna, I know you’re a fan of snow this time of year, but I can only tell you to be patient,” Elsa told her gently, yet firmly, “It will eventually snow in time for Christmas.”
“So you are going to make it snow,” Anna falsely confirmed.
“No,” Elsa responded as she looked up from her work, “I told you already, I won’t alter the natural order of the weather unless it’s a dire emergency. Simply not having a white Christmas doesn’t count.”
“Then how do you know it’s gonna snow?”
Elsa shrugged before dipping her pen and writing some more. “I don’t know. I just do,” she stated unhelpfully.
“Ugh, why do you have to be such a stickler for the rules?” Anna whined.
“Oh, yes, because the laws of nature are just so restricting and pointless,” Elsa retorted sarcastically.
“Can’t you make it snow, like, this much?” Anna begged, holding her index and thumb about three inches apart from each other.
“No,” Elsa replied without even looking up.
Anna pinched her fingers a little closer together. “What about this?”
Elsa sighed and set her pen down before facing her sister. “How about this?” she said in the voice she often saved for discussions with her council, “I’ll turn the ballroom into your own personal winter getaway and you stop pestering me.”
“But you always do that!”
“You make it sound like snow indoors is boring.”
“Duh! That’s cuz it is now! Elsa, I want the real thing!”
“I’m sorry, Anna, but that’s not going to happen.”
Anna’s face turned serious with determination. “Fine. I won’t stop pestering you until you do it,” she threatened.
“And how do you plan on doing that?” Elsa asked with an eyebrow raised sceptically.
“Like this,” Anna told her before grabbing a chair and plunking herself down right across the desk from her sister. She threw both feet roughly up onto the polished wooden surface and reclined in a comfortable, albeit rather unladylike fashion and demanded, “Make it snow.”
Elsa scowled at her. “You think that is going to do anythi–”
“Make it snow,” Anna repeated stubbornly.
Elsa let out an exasperated breath. “That’s not going to work.”
“Make it snow.”
“I should remind you that I have endless patience.”
“Make it snow.” That time, Anna’s tone also replied, “So do I.”
Elsa glared at her sister for a few minutes before simply deciding to ignore her. She dipped her pen and got to work. After a few minutes, her sister’s voice broke the silence: “Make it snow.”
Elsa chose not to show any indication that she had heard the demand, and continued working. The hours ticked by slowly, and time was regulated more by Anna’s voice every minute or so than it was by the ticking clock in the corner of the room. Her voice never changed from that frustrating monotone, and her words never shifted from those three, infuriating words.
Elsa did not want to admit that she was bothered by it, but boy, was she bothered by it. It was all she could do to keep her hand from trembling with her growing anger. She had long surpassed annoyed with her sister and as the clock chimed the hour, signifying a full two hours spent with regular verbal jabs shattering her concentration, she was livid underneath a mask of calm neutrality.
“Make it snow.”
Elsa’s head suddenly snapped up from the letter she had been attempting to finish since Anna had shown up in her office. She loved her sister dearly, but like any sibling relationship, sometimes someone would over-stay their welcome.
Anna felt her heart stop for a second when she made eye contact with those frigid, sapphire orbs. She quickly removed her feet from the desk and straightened up in her seat. “Uh, heh heh, don’t suppose I changed your mind?” she asked nervously.
She noticed that the quill had frozen over again, but this time instead of thawing it, Elsa tightened her grip on it so much that it shattered like brittle, delicate glass in her hand. “Get out,” she growled.
“No,” Anna initially stated boldly. She would not be shut out by her sister again, and besides, she made a vow to stay until Elsa brought winter back to Arendelle. “Not until you make it snow.”
Elsa started to make it snow, alright, but in the study instead of outside. Anna had a sinking suspicion that she was not doing it on purpose, either. The air started to spiral around the Queen as it does whenever she was particularly upset, ruffling the papers on the desk and sucking all of the warm air out of the room rather quickly.
Anna would have fought back, but a flashback to another time she pushed her sister too far with these warning signs stopped her. She decided it best to leave before ice exploded out of Elsa’s core like it did the last time, with a shard of it ending up in the Princess’s heart. “Ok, ok. I’ll leave,” she said quickly as she got up and hastily made her exit, “But this is not over.”
She closed the door. A second later there was a dull thump on the other side, and a small point of an icicle poking through the wood of the door appeared out of nowhere. “Ok, maybe I shouldn’t bother her that much,” she mumbled to herself.
The next week went by slowly. The weather remained dreary and too warm. For Anna, the sunny days were distressing, as the longer they continued, the fewer days she had for it to snow before the holidays.
Her mission to get Elsa to come around was going about as well as one might think. Elsa had thirteen years of attempting to shut her sister out behind her that, on the surface at least, helped her ignore the persistent “Make it snow” commands.
However, what Anna did not know was that Elsa had never been good at shutting her sister out. The only thing that made it seem so was the door separating them, blocking their views of each other. The problem was that Elsa cared about Anna more than anyone else, so simply ignoring her was almost impossible to do. And after thirteen years of being forced to do so, she wanted nothing more but to give Anna her undivided attention for the rest of her life.
Now, though, Anna was pushing her luck. Elsa had gone from trying to pretend to ignore her sister to actually trying to ignore her sister, but it was a task that was proving very difficult. Each morning she awoke to a note tacked to her door: “Make it snow. Love Anna.” Each day at breakfast, Anna would appear from seemingly nowhere and start bombarding her with the demand. She would then follow her around the castle until she went to the study, repeating those words over and over. Thankfully she had enough sense to stay out of the study while Elsa was working. But she was always waiting just outside to follow Elsa to her bedroom at the end of the day.
But after about five days of this, she started getting Kai and Gerda involved. The poor butler and maid had no choice in the matter: they were sent in on the Princess’s orders to ask the Queen for snow. Elsa rolled her eyes at it at first, but once Anna started commanding her council members to put forth motions to snow-in Arendelle, the Queen finally drew the line. Disrupting her peace was one thing, but messing with state affairs was another.
Anna hesitantly entered the Queen’s study after Kai had told her that her sister wished to see her. “You, um, wanted to see me, Elsa?”
Elsa looked up from her work with obvious fake surprise. “Really? You’re not going to ask me for snow?” she asked over-dramatically, “Seeing as that is the only thing you’ve said to me for five days in a row.”
“Don’t suppose it’s changed your mind?” Anna wondered.
Elsa smiled and gestured to the empty chair in front of her desk. “Take a seat, Anna,” she said in a voice that had no room for argument.
Anna gulped nervously and did as she was told.
“Now,” Elsa said professionally, setting her quill down and folding her hands on the desk, “We need to have a little talk.”
“I swear I’m not doing anything with Kristoff!” Anna shouted defensively.
That disarmed her sister for a moment. “What? What are you talking about?” she demanded.
“Nothing. Nothing at all,” Anna replied quickly.
Elsa shot her a suspicious glare before getting back on subject. “I understand you’re my little sister, and we’ve lost a bit of time from our childhood for you to pester me in such childish ways, but do remember that you are eighteen and the Crown Princess. So I kindly ask that you keep whatever quarrels we have outside of the council room.”
“Ooh, so Councilman Albertsen actually asked you, did he?” Anna questioned with a wince.
“He did,” Elsa stated flatly, “But he did promptly cover himself by stating that you had ordered him to ask.”
“He didn’t have to…”
“He did if he held any respect for the royal family, as our word technically has higher authority than others,” Elsa explained dryly, “So whenever you go about commanding people to waste my time, they have to do it until I release them from it.”
“Sorry,” Anna whispered.
Elsa sighed heavily. “I know you want it to snow for Christmas, Anna. But there are still two weeks to go. Stop worrying so much. And do try to understand the value of me telling you to relax.”
“But, but…” Anna sputtered in vain, “I need it to snow!”
“No, you don’t. You want it to snow, but it is not necessary.”
“But Elsa–”
Elsa held up a hand to silence her sister. “Now, we have to discuss your punishment.”
“Punishment?” Anna demanded angrily.
“You have been going around annoying not only me, but most of the staff and council. This has gone on long enough,” Elsa explained coolly, “You are to remain in that spot for the rest of the day. And you are not to make a sound.”
“I can’t do that!” Anna cried in distress.
“You had best figure out a way, because if you don’t, then no chocolate for a month.”
“You wouldn’t dare.”
“Try me.”
Anna crossed her arms and pouted. “You’re no fun,” she stated.
“A reminder that your time starts now,” Elsa sighed as she returned to her work.
Anna exhaled angrily and sunk down in her seat. There were many different things she wanted to say, but she had no idea if Elsa was serious about her threat. Deciding not to risk it, she sat silently and stewed in her grumpiness.
Eventually she simmered down and watched her sister work diligently on documents and reports. She observed how Elsa maintained her mask of stoicism while she worked, until she came upon something that brought a slight frown to her face. Anna was not sure if it was confusion, disagreement, or uncertainty, but she was unsettled by it regardless of its cause. Elsa always seemed to frown more than she smiled these days. Granted, it was always little frowns like these, and not the ones that revealed the misery that Anna knew she still felt every now and then. Seeing that frown on her sister’s face now reminded her of why she really wanted snow in the first place.
Elsa had always been happiest when it snowed.
Elsa, meanwhile, was busy reading a report on the crop yields from the past autumn when she noticed that Anna had remained quiet for nearly half an hour. Elsa looked up to see her sister gazing out the window absentmindedly. She followed her gaze to view the dreary grey sky that was only yielding rain. Her frown deepened.
Anna was only being Anna after all. She never knew exactly when she had taken something too far until it was too late. She was a perpetual ball of energy and excitement. But now she was sitting very still and quiet, her expression downturned and contemplative. Elsa hated seeing her like that, as it was entirely not Anna-like behaviour. At this point, though, she knew there was only one thing that would cheer her sister up.
Anna had always been happiest when it snowed.
Elsa sighed loud enough to draw Anna’s attention. Once she had locked eyes with her sister, she said quietly, “Christmas Eve.”
“What?” Anna replied with the same tentative tone.
“If it hasn’t snowed by Christmas Eve, then I’ll make it snow.”
Anna’s face immediately brightened. “Really?” she squeaked excitedly, “Oh, but what about your vow to never tamper with the weather?”
Elsa shot her a deadpanned glare that said for her: “Now you’re suddenly concerned with that?” But she cleared her throat softly and said, “I think it’ll be ok if I alter things for one day. It can’t be any worse than what I did in July.”
Anna bounced up and down in her seat. “Oh my gosh, thank you! You’re amazing! You’re awesome! You’re…you’re the best sister ever!” she squealed.
Elsa chuckled at her sister’s antics. “Thank you for the praise, Anna, but it may not even be necessary,” she said as she began to get back to work, “I still have a feeling that it’ll snow naturally before Christmas day.”
“Maybe it will, but at least now I have a back up!” Anna stated happily. She shot out of her seat and bounded around her sister’s desk to smother her in an awkward and tight hug. “Thank you so much, Elsa!”
Elsa struggled to squirm free of Anna’s embrace just enough to be able to take a strangled breath. “You’re welcome, Anna. Now do you promise not to go around bothering people about snow from now until the holidays?”
“I promise,” Anna said sincerely as she released her sister.
Elsa nodded. “Alright. You’re free for the day.”
Anna smiled sheepishly. “Actually, I was wondering if it was ok if I hung out here for a while?” she questioned softly, “I was thinking about how we don’t spend enough time together, and this was kinda fun…you know, except for the whole sitting perfectly still and silent part. Seriously, how do you do it?”
Elsa laughed. “Lots of practice. And yes, you may stay here if you like. Just…try not to make too much noise.”
Anna’s grin widened. “You got it. I’ll go get the book I started and I’ll be right back!” she said as she headed out the door, “Don’t have too much fun without me!”
Elsa looked down at the report that should be read to small children to get them to fall asleep. “You don’t have to worry about that,” she muttered as she went back to work.
The weeks slipped away quickly. Elsa’s promise to Anna soon spread throughout the kingdom – though Anna would never say who let it slip. As it turned out, the people of Arendelle also were unimpressed by the rainy weather, especially the children. However, upon hearing that the Queen would publicly display her incredible magic on Christmas Eve if there was no real snow by then, the villagers began praying for more of the warm weather. After all, magic snow would obviously make the season the most magical.
Soon enough, the day finally arrived. Anna actually woke up early for perhaps the first time ever. She leapt out of bed and immediately threw open her curtains. The dark land was still void of snow, but that was fine: she had a Plan B.
Seeing as the holidays allowed her to go through a few days without worrying about paperwork, Elsa was sleeping in for perhaps the first time ever. Everything was perfect: her bed was warm, her blankets soft, her room quiet, and her sleep peaceful. She was so deep in her sleep that she did not hear the approaching footsteps of someone who was clumsy, barefoot and running as fast as they could until the door to her room had practically been kicked open. She was semi-conscious when the steps abruptly ended, and wide-awake when something Anna-sized and bony came crashing down on top of her.
“Elsa!” Anna exclaimed as she bounced up and down on the bed before settling on sharply shaking her sister’s shoulder, “Wake up, wake up, wake up!”
“Oh god, I think you broke something,” Elsa groaned into her pillow, trying to ignore the pain from where Anna’s knee had collided with her back.
“It’s Christmas Eve! You know what that means?” Anna asked excitedly, as she reached for one of Elsa’s eyes and pried the lid open.
“I should be sleeping in?” Elsa responded dryly.
“No time for that! Get up!” And with that, Anna sprung off the bed and grabbed the blankets. She had hoped to just remove the covers, but it would seem that at some point in the night, Elsa had wrapped her blankets around herself tightly, meaning that with a good, sharp tug, the Queen was sent to the floor to land in a pile of linen. Anna had to admit, turning the tables felt good.
Elsa fought through the mess in annoyance before finally freeing her head. “Was that really necessary?” she shot grumpily.
“To be fair, I wasn’t expecting that to happen,” Anna admitted honestly, “But it was funny. Nice bedhead, by the way.”
Elsa rolled her eyes before getting up with as much dignity as she could muster. She caught a glimpse of her reflection in the mirror, and grimaced slightly at what Anna had been referring to: the ice she used to keep her hair in check had melted overnight, meaning that all the short bits that did not fit into her braid were flying every which way and falling messily into her eyes. The braid itself did not fair that well, either.
She yawned before wandering over to her wardrobe to pick out her outfit for the day. “Would you mind telling me why you’re up this early? And why is it so important for me to be up right this second?” she wondered.
Anna merely waltzed over to the window and drew the curtains. “What do you see, my dear sister?” she questioned slyly.
“Arendelle,” Elsa replied sleepily before cluing in, “Lacking snow.”
“Exactly,” Anna stated, “Sooo… Do you wanna build a snowman?”
Elsa looked outside again before turning back to her sister, the playful, impish grin Anna loved present on her face. “I would love to, Anna.”
In no less than an hour, both royals were fully dressed and bounding down the main staircase toward the front door. Anna was in the lead, practically dragging her sister along and giggling her head off the whole time. Elsa was not exactly the image of calm, either, but there was an attempt on her part to tone her sister down a little bit. Anna was too caught up in her excitement to notice.
They threw open the doors to the courtyard, only to be met with as many eager citizens that the square could hold. Elsa shot a confused glance at Anna, who merely smiled sheepishly and said, “I may have told a few people that you were gonna make it snow on Christmas Eve…”
“A few?” Elsa whispered back, “The entire city is here.”
“That’s ok. You’ve done public displays before,” Anna told her confidently. Noticing that Elsa’s shoulders had tensed up and she was fiddling with her hands, Anna added gently, “You’ll be fine, Elsa.”
Elsa turned to stare into her sister’s earnest eyes. She slowly allowed a small smile to form on her lips, before heading to the centre of the courtyard. The crowd parted for her as she walked forward. Anna followed along eagerly, but remained behind just a little once Elsa stopped to give her sister some space.
Elsa took a deep breath before glancing around at the crowd again. Whole families were present, along with shopkeepers, dockworkers, guards and even a few rough-looking men who probably had less-than-ethical employment. But every single person was watching her with eager grins, some even bouncing up and down in excitement. The children present could barely contain themselves as they waited to see magical snow float down from the sky. Elsa felt the rush of happiness and adrenaline she had felt back in July when she thawed her unintentional winter, and had then given a public display of her powers to show people that she did in fact have control over them. Her doubts were washed away, and she found herself asking the crowd energetically, “Are you ready?”
The crowd responded with cheers and applause. Children laughed and nodded their heads up and down. The gang of ruffians hoisted their swords high in the air and roared in approval. She even spotted some of her council members – the older, stiffer ones who never had anything nice to say – allowing smiles to form their expressions.
“Alright,” she laughed as she began to roll her hands over each other, forming a glowing blue ball of magic between them, “Let’s make this a white Christmas!” With that, she released to orb high into the sky. Once it reached the cloud layer, it exploded like a firework in the sky. Shimmering blue particles flew out in every direction, but instead of falling down, they went up into the clouds. The overcast sky shifted from a miserable rainy grey to snowy silver, and within seconds, snowflakes began to float downwards. The temperature dropped just enough to keep to snow around, but not enough to be bitter. As an added bonus, Elsa stomped her foot into the ground to turn the centre of the courtyard into an ice rink once more, before freezing the fountains into spiralling sculptures of ice.
Everyone cheered again, before laughter and happy conversations filled the air. People began skating around on the perfect sheet of ice, while others wandered around to view the artistic ice spreading around the castle. One of the ruffians swapped out his sword for a guitar missing a string and began to play, prompting his cohorts and a few palace guards to begin singing Christmas carols together. Children raced toward the snow, which was very quickly accumulating on the ground, to begin making ammunition for a snowball fight.
Anna shakily made her way over to her sister, since she still was not that great at moving around on ice. “Told ya you’d be fine,” she stated with a grin, “And just in case I haven’t said it enough yet: thank you!” She enveloped the Queen in a hug, only to nearly bring them both to the ground when her feet slipped out from under her. Fortunately, Elsa had enough balance for the both of them.
Anna released her sister and looked around. “The snow’s piling up,” she observed.
“Yes. I gave the clouds enough for about a foot of it, and then the sky should clear up. I don’t want to bury the kingdom, after all,” Elsa said as they moved off the rink, “Now, is there anything special you wanted to do today? We basically have the whole day to ourselves.”
Anna thought hard for a minute, before gasping gleefully. “I know! Come on!” she cried, grabbing hold of Elsa’s hand and proceeding to drag her toward the main gate, “And you’d better warm up those powers of yours, cuz you’ll be using them a lot today!”
“Wait, what?” Elsa replied, “What are you– Whoa!” Anna had already started to run while still maintaining an iron grip on Elsa’s hand, which meant that the Queen now had to be running, too.
Anna guided her through the crowds of people, narrowly missing several people and about a dozen light posts. Finally Elsa got a sense of where they were going when Anna slowed to a stop in front of the giant Christmas tree in the middle of the square. Lanterns were hanging off the bows to be lit up at night, but it was void of most other decorations. The Princess merely gestured to the tree, and said, “Go nuts.”
“Anna, I’m not sure–”
“I met the mayor in town the other day. He was saying how he wished there could be more decorations on this tree, but with it being outside, there’s not much else they can put on it. And because it’s been so wet and windy lately, the lanterns don’t fair too well,” Anna explained, “Oh, if only we knew someone who not only knew how to make winter-proof ornaments, but also could, I dunno, make magical ice that happens to glow in the dark if she wants it to.”
Elsa looked at the tree, Anna, then back to the tree.
“Come on, Elsa, I’m talking about you,” Anna deadpanned.
“I know, but I… This is different from what I do to the castle.”
“Elsa,” Anna sighed as she took her sister’s hands in hers, “People love what you do, no matter what.”
“But what if–”
Anna suddenly released her and turned to the people gathering in the square. “Who wants Queen Elsa to decorate this tree properly?” she shouted happily.
The people responded with just as much joy. Words of encouragement and pleading for a show filled the snowy air as more and more people gathered around them. One man mentioned something about decorating the whole town, and upon hearing that several children began cheering loudly for that to happen.
Anna then looked back at her sister. “You see? They want you to,” she stated. Then, in a soft voice only Elsa could hear, she added, “Do the magic.”
One festive whirlwind of a day later, the Queen and Princess found themselves curled up under a thick blanket on the highest balcony of the castle, watching the aurora through breaks in the clouds. Arendelle glowed warmly below them, the orange lights from the lanterns and torches sparking off the white snow on the ground. They could see the tree in the town square, a beacon of icy blue amongst the firelight. Much of the ice adorning window frames, eaves and gables of the town houses shone with a similar glow.
After Elsa had decorated the tree, she had moved on to the houses and shops. Her unique style of rosemaling made the whole town look like something out of a fairy tale. It was very geometric, yet free and elegant. The lines were straight, and the angles precise, but it was not rigid. It was different from tradition, yet it followed tradition’s forms. It was Elsa, and the people loved it.
After that, Anna had them build about twenty different snowmen with the town children, before starting a seemingly kingdom-wide snowball fight. When everyone had finally grown exhausted from that, the royals wandered around town, wishing people happy holidays and chatting about family and plans for celebrations. Later that day, it became apparent that the courtyard rink was not big enough, so Elsa pre-maturely froze a section of the fjord to expand the skating area, being sure to create a decorative ice fence along the edge of the ice to keep people from falling into the frigid water. And it was there that they stayed until dinnertime. Anna had been shivering like an excited small dog, her nose running and her fingers numb, but she was ecstatically happy regardless. Not only had she spent the whole day doing fun things with her sister, but those fun things involved snow that would stick around for Christmas. She could not wait to do it all again the following day.
After dinner, Elsa had been planning on reading in the library, but Anna had noticed that the clouds had cleared a little and the Northern Lights were on full display behind the misty veil. And so, here they were on the balcony on the castle’s main tower. Elsa insisted that Anna take a blanket to wrap around herself, and Anna insisted that she only would if Elsa would cuddle underneath it with her.
“Thank you, again,” Anna sighed as she rested her head on her sister’s shoulder, “This day was amazing.”
“You’re welcome, Anna,” Elsa chuckled, “I am well aware of that.”
Anna stared up at the sky. “The sky is really awake tonight,” she observed.
Elsa laughed softly. “You still use that expression?” she asked softly.
“Well, yeah. The auroras are magic in the sky. Therefore, it is awake,” Anna stated matter-of-factly, “You don’t?”
“Not since I learned that the auroras are really just energy from the sun interacting with the atmosphere,” Elsa replied.
Anna was silent for a moment. “I like my explanation better,” she said.
Elsa smiled and playfully rolled her eyes. “Well, one of us had to be a realist,” she sighed.
Anna yawned. “Funny that it’s you,” she murmured as she snuggled closer to her sister and closed her eyes, “The one with magic powers is the realistic one in this family. Who would’ve thought?”
Elsa laughed softly at Anna’s sleepy joke. She adjusted the blanket so it better covered the Princess before letting out a long, relaxed breath. She closed her eyes for a minute to simply enjoy the moment: the sounds of the cool breeze blowing softly through the town, the waves crashing on the breakwater, the distant howl of a wolf, and the sound of bells attached to a horse-drawn sled trotting through the streets; and the warmth of her sister nestled against her comfortably.
Then she felt something on her cheek. She opened her eyes to see a small snowflake float down to land on her foot. She looked up to see more following behind, all coming from a naturally formed cloud.
Anna also felt them, and was roused from her nap. She sleepily looked up at her sister, and muttered, “You could have shaken me awake. Why the snowflakes?”
Elsa grinned. “It’s not me this time,” she said simply.
Anna stared at her with confusion before a fat flake landed right on her nose. She looked down at it and observed it melt away before it suddenly clicked: it was really snowing. “Elsa!” she gasped, “It’s snowing! It’s really snowing! Not that your snow isn’t real, but this is real real snow, and oh my gosh! It’s snowing!”
Anna leapt to her feet and leaned over the railing of the balcony, craning her neck as if to see if the rest of the kingdom was also getting snow. Elsa rose from the ground and followed after her so she could wrap the blanket Anna had left behind around the Princess before she froze. Suddenly, the clock in the square chimed midnight. “Look at that,” Elsa said lightly, “I told you it would snow before Christmas day.”
Anna laughed. “Yeah, two whole minutes before Christmas day,” she scoffed playfully. She took Elsa’s hand in hers, and gave it a small squeeze. “I did enjoy the magic snow more, though,” she admitted softly.
“Consider it an early gift, then,” Elsa replied warmly as she pulled her sister in for a hug, “Merry Christmas, Anna.”
“Merry Christmas to you, too, Elsa,” Anna whispered, “I love you.”
The night before Christmas is a time to snuggle in front of a roaring fire with my little sister for the first time in thirteen years. We share cookies and hot chocolate, staying up to see Christmas Day arrive at midnight—if we do not fall asleep before then, of course. Anna chatters away, animated and bubbly as we converse the quiet Eve of Christmas away. The clock chimes the hour, adding one more peal each time, but we do not pay it heed, even when it strikes eleven at night. Anna begins to yawn, loud and dramatic, as she leans heavily against me. She is all knees and elbows as she curls up under our large blanket on the couch, resting her head on my shoulder, eyeing the presents on the table. Closing her eyes, she snuggles up as close as she can to my side, the smallest sigh of contentment passing her smiling lips.
I lean my own head on my sister’s, closing my eyes as her silken hair touches my cheek. I rearrange my arms under the blankets, wrapping one around her shoulders and the other around her middle. The night is silent except for the ticking of a clock behind us, and the whisper of the fjord in the distance. Even the birds have closed their eyes to slumber till Christmas morning. Red and orange from the fireplace’s radiance dance on the backs of my eyelids, a visual lullaby that lulls me into drowsiness. I feel Anna’s breathing slowing, easing into a regular rhythm as she dozes off.
The clock chimes, startling me awake, opening my eyes to see that the stars and moon have shifted places in the sky. It chimes six times—I must have fallen asleep too. So much for staying up to see Christmas arrive at midnight. The fire has long died down, but even now, I see a sliver of light ribbon over the floor, over us, and the table, as someone tip-toes inside—our maid, Gerda. She glances over long enough as she passes us to see that I am awake.
“Good morning, Your Majesty,” she whispers, “Merry Christmas. Good sleep?”
“Absolutely blissful, thank you, Gerda,” I beam, planting a tender kiss on top of Anna’s head, “Merry Christmas to you too.”
“I’ll light the fire—don’t worry, I’ll be as quiet as possible.”
“Don’t worry about that,” I assure, “Anna sleeps like a log. We can bring a brass band in here and she’ll never wake up.”
I jerk as a finger pokes me hard in the ribs under the blankets.
“I heard that,” Anna mumbles.
“Oh, look who’s awake,” I tease, “Merry Christmas to you too.” I frown a little, concerned, “You’re not too cold are you?”
“No,” she mumbles , eyes still closed even as she shifts her head as though to look up at me, “Not like this I’m not.”
“You sure?”
“You’re warm for an ice queen,” but there’s the smallest twitch of a smile, so I know she’s just teasing.
“Aren’t you going to wish me a Merry Christmas too?” I whisper, a hint of mischief in my tone. “I already wished you a Merry Christmas.”
“Hm?” Her eyes open, at first sleepy, and then suddenly all the way, wide open with clear excitement. “It’s Christmas already? Midnight!”
“It’s actually six in the morning,” I correct her, nodding at Gerda, “See? The fire had died out while we slept.”
“Oh, so we fell asleep then?”
“Well, it’s Christmas now either way.”
For someone who normally struggles to get up in the morning, Anna became wide awake pretty quick. With a grin, she untangled the blanket from around her legs, and headed for the Christmas presents on the table. She leans close, picking them up, attempting to read the tags on the presents. Gerda takes pity on her and walks over to place the lantern on the table. With a grateful thanks, Anna now studies the tags in the light of the lantern. When she has found what she was looking for, she bounds back to the couch, tucking her legs up, pulling the blanket back over her, passing a present to my own lap. Leaning over, she gives me a quick kiss on the cheek.
“Merry Christmas, Elsa,” she sing-songs, grinning at me, “Now it’s presents time!”
“You want to open yours first?” I ask.
“You’re the queen—you should open first.”
“No, you first—you deserve to.”
She shakes her head, defiant, good-natured. “No, you.”
Gerda stops what she is doing with the fireplace and turns to face us with amusement.
“How about at the same time?” she suggests.
“Actually, great idea!” Anna approves, before adding, “Merry Christmas, Gerda.”
“And the same for you too, Anna,” Gerda gives the fireplace one last look-over, and appears to be satisfied by her handiwork. “I’ll bring up some more hot chocolate for you two, shall I?”
“That would be wonderful!”
“Same,” I agree with Anna.
Taking the lantern with her, Gerda departs, leaving us in the young glow of the reignited fireplace. Outside, birds are starting to call to each other as the sky begins to awake with the coming sunshine.
“So,” Anna draws out the word, “Presents! Open on the count of three, shall we?”
I laugh, soft and happy, “On the count of three.”
“One…”
“Two…”
“THREE!”
She tears her present open, while I carefully unwrap mine, wondering what Anna could possibly have gotten for me. It feels like a book, judging by its shape and feel under the wrappings—and I am right. I let the wrapping fall away as I run my fingers over the title’s gold lettering. One of my favourite books, and Anna got it just for me.
“Thank you, Anna,” I murmur, holding the book to my heart.
If she has heard me, I do not see it, for all she has eyes for is her own present. It is a globe made out of ice, and inside is a perfect replica of my own ice palace. She shakes it, tentative, and the snow blizzards around the miniature palace, swirling and spiralling around the inside of the globe.
“It’s…beautiful,” Anna breathes, words nothing more than a hush, “Did you…”
“Yes, I did. And you needn’t worry about breaking it. And you’re very welcome.”
She stares at me for what feels like a minute, before carefully getting up and placing into on the table, walking back to throw her arms around my neck in a tight hug. Her cheek feels oddly damp against mine.
“Thank you,” she murmurs into my ear, “Thank you for the magic…”
“You’re very welcome,” I give her a little squeeze in kind, “You okay?”
She pulls back, now sitting down next to me, taking one of my hands in hers. Even in the low firelight, I see her eyes are brighter, mistier than usual.
“It’s just…I don’t know—I mean this is the first time and…I guess I just…”
“You’re very happy?”
“Yeah, that,” she confirms, and quickly brings up a hand to wipe at one of her eyes, “This is the first time in forever that we’re celebrating Christmas together after all.” A pause, a squeeze of my hand, tight, loving. “I’m glad we’re doing this again, Elsa. I love you, sis.”
I squeeze her hands in response, and my eyes are curiously mistier than usual.
“I love you too, Anna,” I respond, “And today’s going to be the best Christmas in a long time—for both of us.”
“I only wish our parents…could still be with us.”
I let go with a hand to tuck a wayward strand of Anna’s hair behind her ear, brushing her soft cheek with my thumb, a loving caress.
“Wherever they are now, Anna, I’m sure they’re smiling with joy, and wishing us a Merry Christmas too.”
Gerda returns after a few minutes with two steaming mugs of hot chocolate, which she passes to us with a genuine happiness that beams from her face.
“I usually frown on eating breakfast in the library, but I think I will make a pass for today,” she tells us, “It is your first Christmas together after all. If you don’t mind, Your Majesty.”
“Christmas in the library sounds wonderful!” I praise, “I know Anna will love it. Won’t you?”
Anna is nodding with great enthusiasm, in danger of spilling her hot chocolate on the blanket.
“And make it a big breakfast, Gerda!” Anna requests.
Gerda chuckles, “I promise, Anna. Be back in a bit.”
For a second time, she departs, and once again we are alone with the brightening sky and the glow of warm firelight. Anna nudges me with an elbow.
“Let’s make a toast,” she suggests, raising her own mug in a suggestion of such, “To us, and in memory of mama and papa.”
I nod, raising my mug to meet hers in a soft clink. Together, we lift them up—not too high, lest they spill—heavenwards.
“Merry Christmas, mama and papa,” we whisper together.
We sit in silence for another minute or so, just being there, together, content even to sit in silence. I know full well how silence can speak volumes more than constant chatter. Silence had a language, silent, yet clear, of its own.
Anna clears her throat, raising her mug to mine. “I wish to toast in honour of my beautiful big sister, the magnificent Queen Elsa.”
I laugh, a little self-conscious. “That’s rather high praise.”
“And you deserve it,” she insists, “Toast.”
She clinks her mug with mine, and again, a smile lilts on my lips.
“Now your turn,” Anna declares.
I raise my hot chocolate, as she did in her toast. “I wish to toast in honour of the most precious, sweetest, and most beautiful princess in all of Arendelle. I never have, and never will, stop loving her for who she is—my little sister, Anna.”
Now it is her turn to look a little self-conscious but she takes it in her stride, clinking her cup just as happily as before when she had toasted to me.
“Happy Christmas, Elsa.”
“And a Happy Christmas, Anna, and may today be the start of many wonderful Christmases to come.”
“I’ll toast to that!”
We do.
I promise, Anna, I think, I promise there will be many more wonderful Christmases to come, that will make up for the last thirteen years.
The best Christmas in thirteen years, and the sun has only just burst into being, spilling its great majesty over the glass-like fjord. The surrounding cliffs bask in the mid-winter morning light, distant yet no less majestic. Somewhere, up in the mountains, my ice palace would be glowing with magnificence in the Christmas sunrise touching the beautiful face of my country and its people. Somewhere, right now, there was sure to be little children waking up mothers, fathers, sisters, and brothers, excited for Christmas Day. I could only hope that they would have a Christmas bursting with love, joy, and hope, just as much as it did here in the castle.
Other Worlds, Other Lifetimes - Elsa Week: Day Three
Technically for Day Three’s prompt, but coming a day late since I had no internet until now. I also didn’t have anything for day four, so this spaces things out a bit better. This one’s actually kind of long (about 9200 words). It takes place in the Big/Little alternate universes, with Elsa being much older (about fifteen years older) than Anna. Enjoy, guys!
Arendelle was a small kingdom in the north. Like most of the lands in the area, it had a monarchy. This particular monarchy consisted of King Adgar and Queen Idun, and their daughter, Princess Elsa. They were a typical royal family: the King was stern and regal in public yet warm and fair in private. The Queen was reserved and poised in court but was fun and full of incredible stories come bedtime. The Princess was well-behaved for the most part, but had her moments of mischief. However, there was something else: Elsa had been born with magic.
Her powers controlled ice and snow, which meant she often was making little flurries and icing the halls over to skate in attempts to entertain herself. She had good control over her abilities, and was even proving herself to be quite the little artist. Her parents were wary about her using them so often at first, especially after realizing that they were gradually getting stronger as their daughter got older. As a result, they kept it a secret from the general public. But over time Elsa proved to them that she had a firm grasp on how the magic worked, and the older she got, and the more manners and royal training she received, the easier they came to her.
So by the time Elsa was fifteen, her parents had total confidence in her and her abilities when her mother gently deposited her newborn baby into the teenager’s hands. Elsa looked down at her little sister with only mild uncertainty on her face. She wasn’t afraid of hurting Anna with her powers – she was more concerned about whether or not her sister would like her (and start screaming if she didn’t). She didn’t have to wait long: Anna looked right up at her and immediately started to wail. Loudly.
Elsa winced and sent a panicked glance back at her parents. They shrugged unhelpfully and prompted her to smile, because she definitely wasn’t at that moment. Elsa sighed before casting her sister the warmest smile she could muster. When that didn’t work, she ever so carefully took one hand and wiggled her fingers over Anna’s head creating a few sparkling snowflakes that twirled into the air around Anna, and the baby’s face immediately brightened. Elsa laughed with her sister, and Anna latched onto her fingers tightly and let out a contented cooing noise.
Elsa’s smile warmed even more. Just one look into Anna’s shining blue eyes and she knew: she would love her sister with all her heart forever and always.
Three years later, tragedy struck. The King and Queen of Arendelle were lost at sea. They had been on their way to a wedding in Corona when a storm hit and the sea swallowed their ship.
Their loss not only left their oldest daughter scrambling to be ready to ascend to the throne in another three years, but also left her suddenly as the legal guardian of her still-rather-young sister. Anna was…a handful. Thankfully, Elsa had the help of the head maid, Gerda, for some things, but comforting Anna after the funeral, consoling her after nightmares, making sure she ate all her vegetables, keeping her entertained and simply being there whenever the child needed it was all on her. Elsa would be lying if she said it was easy.
She was often told by her advisors that she should simply hire a nanny and be done with it, but she could not. Looking after Anna might have been extra work she did not need, but Elsa loved to do it. No matter what the child wanted, she could be sure that her older sister would move heaven and earth for her.
Anna used that knowledge to her advantage at first, until one night about a year later when she entered Elsa’s study without knocking to find her sister locked in the sharp claws of an anxiety attack. All of that extra work had added up and taken its toll on the young ruler, so much so that even a four-year-old could see it. And so it became Anna’s turn to comfort her sister – just for that night. After that, Anna tried as much as she could to make it easier for Elsa, from making herself pay attention during her studies to eating the broccoli she despised without much fuss.
In the years that followed, things grew easier. Elsa got into the flow of balancing royal work and taking care of her sister. Anna was growing up quickly, but she was still very much a child at heart. She had endless energy, and would always be bounding about the castle looking for things to do while her sister was busy. But she could always look forward to the evening, after everything was done for the day. Elsa would go to her room and tuck her into bed, always with a bedtime story.
This night was no different. Elsa was finishing up a tale about a bold princess who ended up saving the prince, and Anna was struggling to stay awake to the end. “And they lived happily ever after,” Elsa said as she closed the book. She then waved her hand, and the figures of the main characters made of sparkling snowflakes disappeared into the air with a flourish.
“I like that story,” Anna sighed with a large yawn.
“Really? I wouldn’t have known by how many times you request it,” Elsa commented lightly.
The five-year-old smiled tiredly. “You’re just so good at telling it,” she said simply.
“That’s good to hear,” Elsa told her. If she was half as good at telling stories as their mother was, she considered it a victory.
Anna yawned again, and scooted a little further under her covers. Elsa smiled warmly down at her little sister. “Goodnight, Sunshine,” she said lovingly as she placed a kiss on Anna’s forehead, “I love you.”
Anna sighed in contentment. “Love you, too, Mama,” she murmured.
Elsa froze, her hand hovering over Anna’s head to brush her bangs out of her face. Anna did not see her shocked expression as she had already fallen asleep.
Elsa spent the rest of the night thinking about Anna’s sleepy comment. She wondered where it even came from and what it meant. Despite all the questions, she had no idea when she went down for breakfast the next morning, completely exhausted from having spent the whole night lying awake and staring at her ceiling.
Anna arrived shortly after she did. She ran right over to her seat and pulled herself up with a small grunt. “Morning, Elsa,” she said cheerfully as she bounced up and down in her chair.
“Good morning, Anna,” Elsa replied as calmly as she could. It must have come off stiffer than she thought, because Anna shot her a confused glance.
“Is everything ok?” the child asked.
“Oh, yes. Everything’s fine,” Elsa told her with a casual wave of her hand, “I just…didn’t sleep well last night.”
“Oh. Was it nightmares?”
“No. I just…was thinking.”
Anna looked like she was going to ask what Elsa was thinking about, but then their food was brought out to them. She beamed with glee and almost didn’t wait for the server to place her pancakes in front of her before she started to dig in.
Elsa would normally reprimand her on such behaviour, but she was suddenly aware that such a thing made her sound very much like a mother, not a sister. And that was when she got her answer: she had become Anna’s maternal figure.
It certainly helped nothing that Elsa looked incredibly similar to their mother. If she had brown hair, Elsa would be almost identical. And Anna was only three when their parents died, which meant her memories of them weren’t very strong and were likely to fade – or be altered.
Elsa watched her little sister for a moment. Anna had gone back to calling her by her name, which meant the incident from last night was likely due to the girl being tired. But, if anything, that meant more than just saying it while fully conscious. It meant that, deep down, Anna saw Elsa more as her mother than her sister.
Elsa wanted to raise Anna like their parents had raised her. She wanted to make sure the girl had proper manners and etiquette, but was also given free reign to play and be herself in her down time. She wanted Anna to be good and kind to others. She wanted Anna to be happy, above anything. She had no idea that all this time, her actions had been turning Anna’s view of her from one that saw her as a sister.
She wasn’t sure how she felt about it. Being her older sister was one thing. But being her mother…the very idea was daunting.
“Are you ok?”
Elsa shook her head as she snapped out of her thoughts. “Hmm? Oh, yes, Anna,” she replied sheepishly, “I’m fine.”
“But…you haven’t eaten yet,” Anna observed.
Elsa looked down to see the untouched food on her plate, now likely cold. Anna had licked her plate clean a while ago. “I…I’m fine, Anna. I’m just a little distracted today,” Elsa told her.
“Are you worrying about your cornoration again?” Anna wondered innocently.
Elsa chuckled. “Coronation, Anna,” she corrected. Then she grimaced slightly at the mention of that. In less than two months she would be saying the oath that would officially make her the Queen Regnant. There was still so much to prepare for and put together…on top of the obvious worry of all the extra responsibility. Granted, by now she was used to having a Queen’s workload, but there was something about everything being made official that scared her.
“I think you’re gonna be the best Queen ever!” Anna declared happily, “You’re already so perfect! There’s nothing to worry about.”
“No one’s perfect, Anna,” Elsa told her gently.
“Except you! You’re so smart and funny and brave and pretty! People love you, and your powers are amazing!” Anna said. “Oh! Are you gonna show people your powers finally?”
Elsa thought for a moment. Anna knew that she couldn’t tell people about her older sister’s abilities, and she was very good at keeping that secret. Though there were plenty of times that she wanted to brag about her magical sibling, she kept her mouth shut because Elsa’s magic was special for just them. It was something they shared the knowledge of together, and if anyone else knew it could ruin all the great fun they had with it. But that didn’t stop the little girl from thinking that all the children in Arendelle should be able to play in the snow in the middle of summer.
“We’ll see, Anna. Perhaps if things go well, I might,” Elsa told her.
“Yay! Then everyone can build snowmen!”
“I’m not so sure if everyone will want to build snowmen,” Elsa said carefully. After spotting Anna’s smile falling slightly, she added quickly, “But I’m sure most people will love to.”
Anna cheered loudly again in excitement. Then their head maid, Gerda, entered the dining hall. “Pardon me, your Majesty,” she said formally, “But it is time for Princess Anna’s etiquette lesson.”
A quick glance at the clock confirmed that she was right. “Aww,” Anna groaned, “Do I have to?”
“Anna…” Elsa began in what Anna called her “Bossy Tone”. It was one that gently made it clear who was in charge. It was not harsh, but it left no room for argument.
Anna pouted but reluctantly excused herself from the table to follow after Gerda, not before racing over to give her sister one last hug before she left. “Bye, Elsa! See you in a bit?”
“You will, Sunshine,” Elsa promised, as she lovingly tidied one of Anna’s pigtails that had come loose. When she was done with that, she quickly took a cloth to Anna’s cheeks to wipe away residual berry juice.
“Elsa…” Anna protested, “I gotta go.”
“Right. Sorry,” Elsa said sheepishly, “You’re free to go.”
Once Anna had bounded away after the maid, Elsa looked over to see her butler, Kai, struggling to hide his wide smile. “What is it?” she asked.
“Forgive me, your Majesty, but… Well, the way you look after her… You’re almost worse than the former Queen,” he told her shyly.
Elsa frowned slightly. “Is…is it really that obvious?”
“Well… Yes,” he admitted, “But it is in a good way. Anna certainly is lucky to have you.”
“And it’s not…strange that her sister’s acting more like her mother?”
“All that matters, Elsa, is that you love her,” Kai told her warmly, “And I have never seen someone love anyone more than you do her.”
Elsa kept Kai’s words to her in her mind the whole day, and often found herself focusing more on them and what they meant than her work. That night, while tucking Anna in, it happened again: Anna sleepily called her “Mama.”
This time, Elsa was going to get answers. “Anna, Sweetheart,” she began very carefully, “Y…you know I’m not your mom, right?”
Anna looked up at her with half-closed eyes. “But you act like it,” she replied innocently.
Elsa opened her mouth to state she did not, but knew that would be a lie so blatant even almost-asleep Anna would see through it. “I…I know I do,” she sighed, “But it’s just because I care about you.”
“I know you care about me, Elsa,” Anna told her, “You just make me think of Mama.”
Elsa smiled a little. “Alright, well… How about you try to keep calling me ‘Elsa’, ok?” she suggested timidly.
Anna nodded before closing her eyes. “Ok, Elsa,” she said through a yawn.
“Thank you, Anna,” Elsa said gratefully.
She got up to leave, and made it as far as the door when she was stopped by a small voice in the dark room: “Elsa? Did it bother you? Cuz if it did, I’m sorry.”
Guilt stabbed her heart like a sharp knife. Ever since Anna had walked in on her panic attack, the child had been tiptoeing around her older sister on touchy subjects. It was clear she was just trying to help, but she was five, almost six, years old. She shouldn’t have to worry about any problems her much more responsible older sister was having.
“No, no, it’s ok,” Elsa said quickly, hoping her voice didn’t sound too fake, “I just found it odd. It didn’t… It didn’t bother me.”
“Ok…” Anna said quietly, “G’night.”
“Goodnight, Anna,” Elsa breathed. She left the room and closed the door. But she couldn’t walk down the hallway just yet. She leaned against the painted wood and let out a heavy sigh.
It bothered her. But what bothered her more was the fact that it did.
It was warm and bright, without a cloud in the sky. Birds chirped merrily from the trees as people moved below them in a flurry of activity. The Kingdom had been decked out completely in green, violet and gold heraldic banners and the national flower, the crocus, was proudly blooming in every flower pot and windowsill. People, both citizens and visiting dignitaries alike, were abuzz with joy and excitement. And so they should be, for on this day Princess Elsa would become a Queen.
“Princess Anna? Wake up, dear,” Gerda said warmly as she prodded the small lump under the covers.
A groan found its way through the pillow, and the lump shifted. “Gerda?” the girl sleepily slurred.
“Good morning, Princess,” Gerda greeted with a small chuckle.
“G’morning,” Anna said with a yawn, “Where’s Elsa? She normally wakes me up.”
“I’m afraid her Majesty wasn’t able to do so this morning,” Gerda replied apologetically, “She’s busy with last minute preparations.”
“Preparations for what?” Anna asked as she slowly closed her eyes again.
“Why, her coronation, Anna,” Gerda said, “Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten.”
“Her…corneration…”Anna mumbled. Then the realization hit and her eyes flew open. “Her coronation!” she gasped excitedly. She leapt out of bed and immediately headed over to get changed into her dress - one she had been excited to wear since she had picked it out months ago.
She could barely keep still as Gerda did her hair, and the maid barely had time to say, “There. All done,” before Anna jumped down from her seat and bounded out the door.
“Anna! Where are you going?” Gerda called after her.
“I gotta see Elsa!” Anna replied, not slowing down or looking back, “I hafta wish her good luck!”
She ran through the halls, dodging the odd dignitary allowed in earlier that morning, or the staff members scrambling to get last-minute preparations finished. She was giggling her head off the whole way, and would sometimes pause to take in the sights and sounds of everything. She had never been in the castle when something so big and important happened. While she had seen visitors before, she had never seen so many, and they never were dressed in such colourful attire.
She was so busy admiring one particularly flashy outfit, she failed to watch where she was going, and her momentum was halted by a pair of legs. She fell on her bottom with a small “oof” and looked up to find a rather handsome-looking man about Elsa’s age. “I’m sorry,” he said smoothly, reaching a hand down to offer her help to her feet, “I didn’t mean to send you flying.”
“Oh, it’s ok,” she said with a large grin, “I wasn’t watching where I was going. Elsa warned me that I should pay better attention, but there’s so much to look at.”
He hoisted her up to her feet before dropping down to one knee to be closer to her eye level. “Well, forgive me nonetheless. A gentleman never gets in a beautiful lady’s way. I’m sorry, your highness.” For added measure, he playfully kissed her hand as if she was a princess from one of her storybooks, and he her dashing prince.
Anna’s smile grew. “I like you,” she said eagerly, “I’m Anna, by the way. Oh! Sorry, Princess Anna.”
“Well, Princess Anna,” he replied with a warm expression, “I’m Prince Hans, of the Southern Isles. It is a pleasure to meet you. And I’m glad I made a good first impression.”
“Anna?”
Anna whipped around at that familiar voice. “Elsa!” she cried happily as she sprinted over to her sister. She threw her arms around her legs and hugged her tight, before looking up and actually noticing how beautiful her older sister looked. “You look so pretty!” she exclaimed, “And I like your cape!” With that, she released Elsa’s legs and dove under the long magenta cape trailing behind her.
Elsa laughed softly, before gently reprimanding, “All right, all right. Take it easy, Anna. Remember what Mrs. Ostberg taught you.”
Anna sighed as she stood up straight beside her. “Behave yourself, be quiet, and no fidgeting,” she said in a defeated tone.
“It’s just for today, Sunshine,” Elsa told her softly. She then turned to the Prince, who had been watching their interaction closely. “I’m sorry. She’s a…bit of a handful at times,” she explained with a small laugh.
“That’s quite alright,” he said calmly, “I have twelve older brothers, most of whom already have kids. I’m used to it.”
“This is Prince Hans,” Anna said happily, “He’s from the Southern Isles. I like him.”
“It is a pleasure to meet you, Prince Hans,” Elsa greeted regally.
“I could say the same, Your Majesty,” he said with a bow.
“Well, you seem to be making a good name for yourself already,” Elsa observed, casting a glance down at her little sister as she spoke.
“I’m just trying to be friendly, Queen Elsa,” he said smoothly, offering up a perfect smile.
Elsa suddenly seemed a bit more flustered. She laughed nervously, and said lightly, “Please, just Elsa is fine. I’m not Queen yet.”
“Forgive me. It’s hard to remember sometimes. You have the grace and beauty of a goddess, and I just assume someone so incredible must be a Queen.”
Elsa blinked. “Oh…my. Well, thank you, I…” she stammered. Just then, the distant chimes of bells caught her attention. She cleared her throat and managed to regain some of her earlier poise. “I’m sorry, but that’s my cue. We had best be off,” she told him, “I suppose I’ll see you at the ball tonight?”
“I wouldn’t miss it,” Hans said, “My best wishes to you, Elsa.”
Elsa nodded before turning to Anna. “Shall we, Sunshine?” she asked warmly.
“Are you gonna become Queen, now?” Anna asked eagerly.
Elsa drew a deep breath. “Yes. Yes, I am.”
The ceremony went off without a hitch. Even the part when Elsa had to remove her gloves and hold the orb and sceptre was without incident - although she had been practicing quite a bit for that. Now, the crown rested on her head and although it physically didn’t weigh much, it still felt heavy where it was. As she stared at herself in her mirror, she became increasingly aware of all of the responsibilities of the kingdom that had been officially deposited on her shoulders.
A knock on her door drew her out of her head. “Your Majesty? All of the guests have entered the ballroom,” Kai’s voice called through the wood.
“Yes. I’ll be right out, Kai,” she replied.
With a quick change from her long cape to a shorter one, and one more heavy sigh, she put her mask of calm regality back on and headed toward the party. Her gentle smile turned into a real one rather quickly when Anna came bounding around a corner. “Elsa! Elsa!” she cried as she threw her arms around her big sister’s legs, “You did it! You’re Queen now! What does it feel like? Any different? Do you have magic queen powers, now, too?”
Elsa laughed softly. “Easy, Anna. I don’t know if I have magic queen powers, but I do have them,” she said lightly, “It’s the power to make everyone want to be my friend.”
Anna gasped in pure delight. “Really?” she asked with big, wide eyes and a grin that spread from cheek to cheek.
“Well, I imagine they’ll be kissing up to me all night,” Elsa told her, “Which isn’t true friendship, I suppose, but it could be good for business.”
Anna’s face fell, and she made a sound that sounded like a fake snore. “Borrring,” she sighed, “So you don’t have any cool queen powers?”
“People have to do as I say,” Elsa offered.
“But they already do that.”
“But now they really have to. Even little princesses,” Elsa said with a sly grin, “For example, I command you to start laughing.”
“Elsaaa,” Anna whined playfully. She tried to be serious, but she couldn’t hold back a few giggles.
Elsa bent down to her sister’s level. “I don’t think that’s hard enough,” she said before snatching her little sister up in a tickle attack.
“Elsa!” Anna squealed through a fit of laughter, “You…stinker!”
Someone clearing their throat made them both pause. “Erm, am I interrupting, your Majesty?” Kai asked somewhat awkwardly.
“Oh, no, sorry,” Elsa replied sheepishly as she rose to her feet, “I got a little sidetracked.”
“Very well,” the butler said understandingly, “But we had best not keep the guests waiting much longer.”
“I agree. Come along, Anna,” Elsa said, extending a hand out for her sister to take, “Let’s go to the ball together, shall we?”
Anna skipped happily beside her sister’s graceful strides. “Do you think there’ll be chocolate there? Ooh, and so many new people! Oh! And Prince Hans! You should find him again! I think he likes you,” she said excitedly.
Elsa laughed, a bit more nervously than before, “Well, he was rather handsome, wasn’t he? And probably the smoothest tongue I’ve ever seen a man possess,” she commented, mostly to herself.
“Do you like him?”
At this, Elsa drew a blank. “I…I’m not sure, Anna. I think I need more time to know him, first,” she said carefully.
“Aww. That’s boring, Elsa. What about true love?”
“I thought I was already going with my true love,” Elsa said humorously, looking down warmly at her sister.
“Sister love isn’t the same as true love,” Anna said confidently, “It’s stronger. You know that.”
Elsa laughed. “Yes, Anna, I do believe you’re right.”
They arrived at the large double doors that lead into the ballroom. The pair of guards stationed there opened the doors wide, and Kai stepped into view. The band promptly transitioned into Arendelle’s royal processional music, and everyone turned toward the throne. Kai introduced Elsa first, who elegantly went to take her place at the front of the room. He then called Anna’s name, and in the moment she forgot her training and bounded in happily after her sister. She did remember where she was supposed to stand, but then after spotting just how many people were there, caught a bit of stage fright and dove behind her big sister’s legs. This earned a few awws from the audience as everyone else applauded the new Queen.
It was not long before Elsa was approached by the Duke of Weselton. Weselton was a small duchy near Corona, and had been a close trading partner with Arendelle for years. The Duke was a well-known weasel, and was often trying to exploit his allies as much as he could without causing a war. He had come close several times, actually, but he was always able to sweet-talk his way out of trouble.
“Ah, your Majesty,” he greeted warmly with a bow, briefly causing his toupee to flop over his head, “As your closest partner of trade, it seems fitting that I offer you your first dance as Queen.” He then performed a few…unusual…dance moves that caused Anna to giggle. “I’ve been told I’m quite the dancer,” he added with a grin.
“Oh, well…I…” Elsa began uncertainly. Honestly, she had never been one for dancing, and something told her the Duke wasn’t that great a partner.
“She’d love to!” Anna interrupted quickly, peeking out from behind her sister with a large smile, “Elsa’s a good dancer, too!”
“Anna…” Elsa hissed quietly.
“Splendid!” the Duke cried. That was the only invitation he needed, as he grabbed Elsa’s hand and pulled her forward onto the dance floor. All she could do was let out a small, startled yelp in response.
The Duke really wasn’t a good dance partner. That had become clear almost right away. He hopped and twirled around like, and these were his words, “a peacock with the face of a monkey” - whatever that meant.
Elsa tried not to have her feet constantly stepped on, but she couldn’t avoid the back-aching dip he swept her into. While upside down, she spotted her sister sitting on the throne, watching them and giggling her head off. Elsa shot her a playful glare that silently said, “I’m going to get you for this.”
Finally, the song changed and Elsa rejoiced in her freedom, but it was short lived. “Well, what would you say about another round, hmm?” the Duke asked.
“Oh…” she stammered, “I…I’m not-”
Someone then saved her by tapping the Duke on the back. “May I cut in?” Prince Hans questioned politely.
Elsa nodded eagerly, and the Duke reluctantly agreed. Hans then led her through a much nicer waltz. She’d be lying if she said she didn’t find his reassuring smile attractive. Or that there was something about his gentle eyes that made her lose track of everything for a moment as she stared into them.
The song ending broke her out of it. When they let each other go, she dismissed herself elegantly, stating that she should probably check on her sister. As she returned to the dais, said sister could barely contain her excitement and ended up bounding over to her happily.
“Elsa!” she cried as she hugged her sister’s legs tightly, “That was… You were… It was so romantic!”
“Is that so?” Elsa asked with a grin.
“So now do you love him?”
Elsa’s grin disappeared. “Anna, I just had one dance with him…”
Anna nodded, not noticing her sister’s discomfort. “Uh huh. And it was exactly like it says in the fairy tales.”
“I still don’t really know him, Anna…”
“Then talk to him. There he is over there!” Anna said excitedly, pointing to the Prince on the other side of the room.
Elsa followed the direction, and at the same moment her eyes landed on Hans, he turned to glance in her direction. A slight blush immediately broke out on her face as she looked away.
Anna squealed with delight. “You do like him!” she exclaimed.
Elsa hurried to shush her sister. “Anna, not so loud,” she begged, “I mean, sure, he’s charming…and handsome…and the perfect gentleman…” She shook her head slightly to clear it, before continuing more sternly, “But those aren’t reasons to fall madly in love just like that. You need to get to know people better before making any sort of commitment.”
“Hmph,” Anna huffed, crossing her arms over her chest and shooting her sister a little pout, “Elsa, you’re no fun.”
Elsa chuckled at her sister’s teasing. “I’m sorry I’m not like those fairy tale princesses,” Anna,” she said lightly.
“But your not a princess anymore,” Anna reminded her, “You’re a Queen. And I’m really glad you aren’t like fairy tale queens.”
Elsa winced a little at that. Fairy tale queens quite often had the word “evil” in their title. And they most likely had some sort of magic. She would be lying if she said that she hadn’t thought about that, but Anna was right. She wasn’t evil - she wasn’t like any of those queens. And one of her own secret promises she made to the kingdom was the vow to never become one.
She brushed off her unease with a small laugh. “I’m glad to hear you think that,” she sighed, “Now come on. What do you say about raiding the snack table?”
Anna beamed and nodded her head eagerly. “Yes, please! I can smell the chocolate from here and I’ve been dying to have some!”
“That’s a little over-dramatic, don’t you think.”
“Elsa: it’s chocolate.”
“…You’re right. Let’s go.”
A couple hours passed. There had been chocolate eaten, dignitaries conversed with, and even a special dance for the Queen and Princess. But it had gotten late, and the time had come for a certain little girl to go to bed.
“But I don’t wanna,” Anna whined sleepily, “I can stay up.”
She yawned almost immediately, and Elsa replied with a smile, “I’m not saying that I doubt you, Anna, but you’ve already stayed up passed your bedtime.”
Anna, who was already being held in Kai’s protective arms, reached out to her older sister. “Can you at least tuck me in?” she asked with a sad voice.
“I’m sorry, Anna. But I should stay here,” Elsa told her reluctantly, “But I promise I’ll come in and check on you once the party’s over.”
Anna pouted, but sighed in agreement. “Ok, Elsa. Goodnight.”
“Goodnight, Anna,” Elsa said softly, leaning in to lightly kiss her sister’s forehead, “Sleep well.”
Kai then carried Anna away to her bedroom. Gerda was waiting for them, and helped the princess out of her dress and undid her hair, leaving it in her normal pigtails once more. She tucked Anna in lovingly, but to Anna it just wasn’t the same as her big sister.
Though she was tired earlier, now that she was lying in her bed she couldn’t fall asleep. She could still hear the faint music coming from the ballroom, and the lights of the lanterns and bonfires the citizens of Arendelle had set up out in the courtyard were flooding in through her window.
After a few minutes of tossing and turning, she decided that she wasn’t that tired after all and maybe now she could convince Elsa of that. She hopped out of bed and headed to her door. She was good at sneaking around the castle, as she would often do so in the middle of the night to visit her sister. She crept along the halls with ease, ducking into shadows or behind an object if she heard someone approaching.
While she was hiding behind a large fern, waiting for the voices of a group of men to pass by, she recognized one of those voices. That was enough for her to peek around the leaves just enough to spot Prince Hans walking alongside the Duke of Weselton and two of the Duke’s guards, talking in hushed tones to each other.
“Prince Hans!” Anna gasped quietly. Maybe he would be able to convince her sister to let her stay up.
Without hesitation, Anna followed them. They ducked into an empty room, closing the door behind them. Carefully, Anna opened the door without making a sound. Before she could enter the room, they starting talking again.
“So, is the plan working?” the Duke asked in a low voice.
“I believe so. She’s certainly much harder to woo than I thought,” Hans replied, mild annoyance coming through in his tone.
“That dance you had with her certainly looked promising,” the Duke told him, “Especially after I warmed her up for you.”
“She wants to take her time,” Hans sighed, “‘Get to know me, first’.” He huffed in frustration. “The smart ones are always the hardest to win over.”
Anna frowned. It kind of sounded like they were talking about Elsa. But Hans was nice. Why would he say mean things like that about her sister?
“Oh, but it will be worth it in the end,” the Duke reminded him, “Think of all the power you’ll have.”
“Hmm, but not quite,” Hans said, “I’ll only be a Prince Consort. To become king I’ll have to…eliminate some obstacles, first.”
“Like the tiny heir?” the Duke said with disdain.
“The little brat who follows after her sister like a puppy following its master?” Hans scoffed, “Separating them long enough to stage an ‘accident’ might be difficult, but I have a feeling the Queen’s spirits won’t hold up once she’s gone.”
“She does love the girl, that’s for sure,” the Duke agreed.
“But once it happens she’ll likely be weak. Heartbroken. Unable to perform her duties,” Hans stated, “I can secure my position as the strong leader this kingdom needs, and then when the Queen wastes away and dies of a broken heart, everybody will celebrate their new king.”
“And then, of course, you’ll hold up your end of the deal?” the Duke questioned slyly, “I help you with this scheme, and you return the favour by giving me a healthy trade deal, remember?”
“When I am the King of Arendelle, you will have the best deal you can imagine,” Hans promised with a smarmy grin, “What do you say?”
“Long live the King,” the Duke answered, “And rest in peace, Queen Elsa.”
Anna gasped in alarm. Hans was not what he seemed at all. The Duke…well, Anna kind of figured there was something off about him. But not Hans. And to think she wanted her sister to marry him! Then she realized something: Elsa didn’t know about this yet. “I have to tell Elsa!” she stated urgently.
Unfortunately, she had stated that a little too loud, and it caught the men’s attentions. “The Princess!” the Duke cried.
Anna bolted from the door, and could hear Hans shouting from the room, “Don’t just stand there! Get that little brat! We can’t let her reach the Queen!”
Anna heard the pounding of the guard’s boots on the floor right behind her, so she ran as fast as her little legs could carry her. She bolted down the hallways and skidded around corners. She nearly wiped out going around one, and from the sound of a suit of armour crashing to the ground, she figured one of the guards did wipe out.
“Elsa! Elsa!” she cried as she neared the ballroom. She was scared. She didn’t know what these men wanted to do with her, but she knew they weren’t good. Elsa had always told her that she would never let anyone hurt her, so all Anna had to do was get to her sister. She just wanted her sister. She needed to feel her arms wrapped around her, keeping her safe. She wanted her- “Mama!”
Meanwhile, in the ballroom, Elsa was conversing with the Princess of Corona when Hans practically appeared out of thin air beside her, slightly winded and seemingly panicked about something.
“Prince Hans?” Elsa asked in confusion, “Is everything all right?”
“Yes. Yes, everything’s fine,” Hans replied, throwing a quick glance around the ballroom before straightening up and smoothing out his coat. He cleared his throat, and said calmly, “Forgive me. I thought I had misplaced something. But I found it. No need to worry.”
Elsa raised an eyebrow, but shrugged it off. “Well, I’m glad you found it,” she told him formally, “Whatever ‘it’ was.”
Something that sounded suspiciously like a suit of armour falling to the ground then filtered in to the room. It was a sound that was very faint, and had one not been paying attention one wouldn’t have noticed, but for a young woman who on a daily basis had to be mindful of what her clumsy and adventurous little sister was doing, the sound was unmissable. “What was that?” she questioned.
Hans’ gaze shifted back and forth nervously. “Queen Elsa, I… There’s something I wish to ask you,” he said hurriedly.
More sounds of a scuffle came into the ballroom, this time louder as if whatever causing them was rapidly approaching. As more and more guests became aware of the noises, a voice rose into existence over the bangs and clatters: a voice sounding like a very distressed little girl crying for her mother.
Elsa made a move for the door, but Hans grabbed her arm hastily and pulled her close. “Queen Elsa, wait,” he stammered, “I…I wanted to say that I love-”
The doors to the ballroom flew open, and in ran little Anna being chased by two large, threatening guards and the Duke of Weselton. Having been slowed by pushing the heavy door open, she was caught by one of the guards before she could make it very far into the room. The guards then realized where they were and stopped dead in their tracks, and the Duke rather timidly ducked behind the larger of the two.
Anna squirmed in the guard’s hands. She spotted her sister with Hans’ arms wrapped around her and cried out as angrily as she could, “Let go of her, you big meanie!”
Elsa, who had been temporarily frozen in stunned silence for a fraction of a second, whipped around upon hearing her sister’s words and met Hans with a severely cold glare that caused him to release her immediately. As soon as she was free, she turned her gaze on the guards. “Let her go. Now,” she commanded, her voice as powerful and absolute as the monarchy she represented.
The guard let Anna go, and she promptly began to scamper over to her big sister. Elsa turned to Hans, and said in a low, furious voice, “If you are a part of this in any way, Prince Hans, I will see to it that you never set foot on Arendellian soil again. You had best pray that my suspicions are wrong.”
“I had no part in this, your Majesty-” Hans began.
Anna interrupted him quickly. “Don’t listen to him, Elsa!” she said urgently, “I heard him say he wants to be King of Arendelle, even if that means hurting you to do it!”
Elsa’s eyes widened slightly in shock. Hans sneered at the child. “All right. Time for Plan B,” he stated wickedly. Before Anna could make it into Elsa’s arms, he lunged forward and grabbed her, pulling out a small, hidden dagger from his coat pocket with his other hand. He held the blade against Anna’s throat, making the frightened child stop struggling. Guards and the Queen herself were forced to stop where they were out of fear that he would hurt the Princess if they got any closer.
Hans chuckled in what he assumed was victory. “You know, Queen Elsa? I have twelve older brothers back home,” he said tauntingly, “That would make me thirteenth in line for the throne.”
“The fact that you are in line at all worries me, Hans,” Elsa growled at him.
“Temper, temper,” Hans returned smugly, “You know, this would have gone much easier for you had you simply fallen for me when you had the chance. At least then it would feel like you had a choice.”
“What are you talking about?” Elsa demanded angrily.
“We’re getting married!” Hans announced cheerfully. Then his smile faded away as he pressed the blade closer to Anna’s neck. “Or else,” he finished darkly.
Elsa glared at him with enough fury that even Anna was a little scared of her. She had never seen her big sister so angry before, but then, no one had ever threatened the Queen or her sister before, either.
“You’re never going to get away with this,” Elsa told him, “Do you honestly think people will just accept this? No one in this room will, and neither will my kingdom.”
“They will, in time,” Hans replied cockily, “But I don’t really care. Once I am King, no one will be able to do anything about it.”
“Except we can,” the Princess of Corona, Rapunzel, cut in, “We won’t let you overthrow an ally.”
“And send your armies against those of said ally?” Hans challenged, “That wouldn’t seem very friendly.”
“Enough, Hans,” Elsa commanded, “Drop this ridiculous threat, let my sister go now, and perhaps I’ll consider allowing you to leave on a ship alive.”
Hans grinned. “Such bloody notions,” he sighed condescendingly, “And here I thought you were a lady.”
“I am a Queen. And I am also a sister. Now let mine go.” Elsa’s words were cold and unflinching. Anna saw her sister boldly holding her ground against the Prince, and knew he was about to get it. She briefly made eye contact with her sister, and Elsa flashed her a look that Anna recognized from all the times she and Elsa had played with the magic. That’s when she noticed that Elsa was slowly removing one of her gloves.
Anna realized that Elsa was waiting for the perfect moment to strike, and the only thing stopping her was her need for a better target. That’s when she got an idea. “Yeah, let me go!” she shouted as she began to squirm in his arm again, “You big butthead! My sister won’t let you-”
Hans silenced her by adjusting his hold so he could clamp a hand down on her mouth. Little did he know that that was precisely what she wanted him to do. With a deep, nervous breath, she shot one final confirming glance at Elsa before chomping down as hard as she could on Hans’ fingers.
The Prince shrieked loudly in pain, and momentarily forgot that he was holding the Princess in his arms. His injured hand released her and he dropped the knife held by the other so he could tear off his glove to check if he was bleeding.
He didn’t even get that far. The moment Anna had fallen from his grasp and safely to the floor, he was struck by something hard, solid, and very cold. He was sent flying across the ballroom, where he was only stopped by the wall on the far side. He tumbled to the ground, gasping in pain as the breath had been knocked clean out of him from both his front and his back.
The crowd first stared in awe at him, then slowly followed his path back to where he had been standing. In that spot was a large, blunt block of ice, shooting up out of the floor at an angle and stopped at about Hans’ chest height. They then turned their stunned gazes just a little bit further, where Queen Elsa was standing with a gloveless hand still extended outward and a few residual snowflakes suspended in the air around it.
“Elsa!” Anna cried happily, springing to her feet and bounding over to her sister, “Elsa, Elsa! You did it! You saved me!”
Elsa dropped her defences as she fell to her knees to scoop Anna up into the tightest hug she had ever given. “Anna, my Sunshine,” she gasped in relief, “Thank goodness you’re all right.”
The crowd began murmuring amongst themselves, mainly in happiness to see the pair reunited and unharmed. The Duke of Weselton, realizing that he had made a terrible decision to trust Prince Hans to follow through, made one more bad choice in a poor attempt to save his own backside. “The Queen! She’s a witch!” he screeched, pointing at the ice she had conjured to send Hans flying, “She made that spike of ice appear out of thin air. It’s sorcery, I tell you! Sorcery!”
He looked around, hoping to see other people regarding the Queen with fear and distrust. However the only person receiving foul looks was him.
“But she saved the Princess!” a dignitary shouted.
“Yes, but…” the Duke stammered, “It’s unnatural! People don’t just have magic for no reason!”
“Actually, they can,” Princess Rapunzel stated firmly, “I myself can say that’s true.”
“But…but…” the Duke was running out of options, so he half-heartedly gave one more attempt to convince them: “She’s a monster.”
Everyone in the ballroom simultaneously glanced toward the Queen in question, who still had her little sister held close to her chest in a warm, loving hug. They all turned back at the Duke with angry glares. The Duke gulped nervously.
Before they could advance, Elsa rose to her feet. Anna ducked behind her legs, wrapping her arms tightly around one of them. “Guards: kindly escort the Duke, his men and Prince Hans to the castle dungeons until I can properly sort out how to deal with them,” Elsa commanded, maintaining a mask of neutrality so no one could tell her true emotion. However, anyone who knew the Queen knew that face: it was the expression she wore whenever she was furious.
The guards eagerly moved to take in the guilty men. Hans required a few more than the Duke and his men, since he had gotten his breath back and tried to fight them off. He yelled a few profanities and threats at the Queen, but they were nothing more than words. Hans had already damned himself in her eyes - it mattered not what else he tried to do to upset her.
Elsa elegantly replaced the glove on her hand, and said to the crowd now watching her every move, “I apologize for the disruption. But now let us not concern ourselves with it. No one was hurt, aside from the Southern Isles’ reputation with Arendelle, and I think it’s best if we continue to enjoy ourselves this evening. The more serious discussions shall happen tomorrow.
“And regarding what you all just found out about me: yes, I possess magic. I was born with it, and despite having no one to teach me, I learned the finesses over time and can say with confidence that they are completely within my control.”
“Then why keep it a secret?” Rapunzel questioned softly.
“Honestly? I had no idea how I could reveal my power without causing too much of a stir,” Elsa sighed in response, “This…was perhaps a bit more…abrupt than the reveal I had been planning, but now that it’s out there’s no running from it.”
“So, what does this mean for our nations?” a representative from Spain questioned carefully, “Will there be anything we should, and forgive me for any ill-feeling, worry about, your Majesty?”
Elsa gave him a reassuring smile. “That will be something I will discuss with all of you in the meeting tomorrow, but I’ll give you the short answer now: no. I have never thought about, nor will I ever attempt, using my powers for attacking others. The only time I ever used them to cause someone harm was just now,” she said as she waved a hand toward the blunt spike of ice. It disappeared into a flurry of snowflakes, which then dispersed into the air before their eyes. “And I would say that was more of a defensive move.”
A few people nodded in agreement.
“Now all that’s left, I suppose, is informing the rest of my subjects,” Elsa concluded, “It’s only fair that they know.”
“And how do you plan on telling them?” the Spanish representative asked with curiosity.
At this, Elsa’s smile grew. “How would you all feel about seeing a little magic show?” she asked playfully.
The crowd murmured with equal parts intrigue and excitement. Anna tugged on Elsa’s skirt to draw the Queen’s attention downward. “Are you gonna do the magic?” she asked with bright, eager eyes.
Elsa bent down to Anna’s level, and replied quietly, “Do you want to build a snowman?”
The much larger crowd out in the courtyard ‘ooh-ed’ and ‘ah-ed’ in unison as they stared up in wonder at the magic bursting in the sky. Never had they expected to witness real magic in their lives, and they certain never expected their own Queen to possess it. And they definitely didn’t expect someone with icy powers to be so kind and warm about them. Queen Elsa was happily playing with the children, creating anything they wanted to see with a wave of her hand. Princess Anna was giving suggestions to any child too shy to immediately approach the Queen, but after a few encouraging words, they warmed up to her.
Elsa had been a little wary at first. She had heard tales from both Arendelle’s past and other countries’ presents of people being accused, and then violently hunted, for possessing magic. But seeing how the diplomats and other aristocrats reacted rather well given the circumstances, she had faith that her own people would be just as forgiving.
And so, after a small impromptu speech similar to the one she gave in the ballroom, she revealed to all of them what only she and Anna had known about for a long time. And the people loved her all the more for it.
Hours later, well into the night, did the festivities finally taper to an end. Anna had managed to stay awake the whole time, and thanks to Elsa’s insistence that she remain in her sight no matter what, she was able to enjoy the magic and fun as much as everyone else, if not more so.
Elsa carried her off to bed this time. However, instead of heading to the Princess’ room, Elsa continued down the hall to her own with Anna still in tow.
“Where are we going?” Anna questioned, squirming to look over Elsa’s shoulder, “My room’s that way.”
“I…I thought perhaps you’d like to sleep with me, just for tonight?” Elsa suggested. And though her voice seemed calm enough, even young Anna was able to pick up on the nervous shudder in her tone.
Anna nodded eagerly and hugged her sister even tighter. Elsa deposited her on the bed while she went around a screen to change. Anna watched as the Queen of the Realm disappeared behind the panels, only to return moments later as her sister: her hair out of its complicated bun, a simple nightdress instead of an elegant gown, and the crown no longer on her head.
They climbed into bed and immediately Anna snuggled up into her big sister’s arms. Elsa hugged her close, burying her face into Anna’s hair and letting out a deeply relieved sigh. Anna shifted a little so she could see Elsa’s face, only to find worry and fear etched into her features.
“Elsa?” she said quietly, “I’m here.”
“I know, Sunshine,” Elsa sighed, “And I have never been more happy to hold you in my arms.”
“I’m happy, too,” Anna told her softly.
“I still don’t understand why they…did what they did,” Elsa said.
“They wanted to hurt you,” Anna uttered, thinking back to the awful things the Duke and Hans had said, “They wanted to kill you. And I heard them.”
“Hey, hey,” Elsa replied soothingly, rubbing Anna’s back gently to calm her down, “It’s ok, Anna. They didn’t win.”
“Elsa?” Anna asked, her voice small in the dark room, “Were you scared?”
Elsa was quiet for a moment. Anna felt her hold her a little closer, before breathing, “Yes. I was.”
“You didn’t look it,” Anna told her.
“But I was,” Elsa sighed, “I was so scared, Anna.”
“How come you didn’t show it?”
“I couldn’t show it. That’s what Hans wanted.”
“Elsa? I…I’m sorry I tried to talk you into marrying him,” Anna atoned, “He was a butthead.”
Elsa chuckled warmly. “And just where did you learn that word?” she questioned playfully.
“Elsa: I’m almost six years old. I’m not a baby anymore,” Anna stated dryly.
“You’re my baby,” Elsa told her, kissing her on the forehead for emphasis.
There was a slight pause, before Anna uttered shyly, “I called you ‘Mama’ again today. I said it when those men were chasing me.”
“I know. I heard.”
“…And…you’re not mad?”
“Anna… I could never be mad at you,” Elsa told her sincerely, “If…if you really want to call me that, then…then you can.”
Anna stared up at her sister’s face with big, bright eyes that twinkled in the faint moonlight. She scanned Elsa’s expression, searching for any negative emotion. After a long enough pause, she quietly admitted with tears forming, “I…I don’t remember Mama, Elsa. When…when I hear the word ‘Mama’, I can only imagine you. I…I know you’re not really her, but… I want you to be my Mama.”
“And…and you’re sure? I can always be your big sister,” Elsa suggested tentatively.
“Maybe when I’m older,” Anna replied, her voice cracking just a little, “But… Right now, I want a Mama.”
Elsa smiled warmly down at her little sister. She lovingly tucked a few wayward strands of hair out of Anna’s face, and said gently, “Very well, my Sunshine. You may call me that if you want.”
“Thanks, El- Mama,” Anna sighed contentedly, snuggling close and closing her eyes, “I love you.”
“I love you, too, Anna,” Elsa sighed, holding Anna close to her heart as she also closed her eyes, “And I’ll love you forever and always.”
They fell asleep together, each holding on as tightly as the other, for they understood their sister needed them and loved them more than life itself. Such was a thing that would never change, no matter what.
Elsa Week (Day 4): Fractals and Flurries [100 word drabble]
Fractals of the past, present, and future blizzard in Elsa’s heart. The flurry of the years as they pass one by one, faster and faster, with each new wrinkle, the fine fractals of age around her eyes and the corners of her lips. She loves the fanning line segments that crease the corners of Anna’s eyes as she shares a quiet moment with her also aging sister. Flurries of white hair appear like wispy mists over the fjord on a cool autumn morning.
Many years pass, and two sisters’ coffins stand in the ice palace, forever surrounded by frozen fractals.
