An AU, of a sorts. Only not.
Important note: This is not mine. It was originally submitted, anonymously, I think, to the elsannaheadcanons blog, but was lost under a read more link. Luckily, I saved it before the original blog was deleted. I hope the new @elsannaheadcanons or @elsannapromptcentral or any other Elsanna blog will rejoice at its preservation.
I always found it a deeply moving, touchingly melancholy interpretation of Frozen.
The darkest AU isn’t an AU at all, it’s just a retelling of Frozen in its exact details from the first person prospective of two psychologically shattered women.
Elsa is raised from a young age to think feeling too many emotions will kill everyone she loves. Her parents reinforce this throughout her life, letting her know in no uncertain terms that she is dangerous and her isolation is her own fault, and the fact that they still tried to be loving parents only empowered her guilt. It doesn’t seem like they’re doing it intentionally, either. The King’s mantra was not “conceal, don’t feel” but rather “conceal it, don’t feel it.” While the King’s intent was for her to conceal her powers, they were so intertwined with her emotions that she believed he was telling her to stop feeling things. Elsa herself is the one who changes the mantra. She’s so damaged that she actually babbles “don’t feel” to herself out loud sometimes. It’s presented to us in song at first so we can think it’s for dramatic effect, but later in the castle it isn’t; she’s just muttering it over and over again, and it’s unlikely this was the first time she’s done so. One can imagine that, in her mind, she’s just repeating it on a loop while reminding herself to smile and be a good girl so she doesn’t make her parents (and then the kingdom) sad. After all, she has to be a good princess and eventually a queen, in addition to not killing everyone.
Anna, on the other hand, is so out of her mind from crippling isolation that she starts talking to inanimate objects. It’s presented as a joke in the movie, but objective observation reveals it’s actually quite tragic. She clings to two men she just met and a woman she has every reason to resent as soon she’s spent less than a day with them. The feelings of abandonment she’s dealing with are plain as day when she can’t bring herself to knock on the doors of the ice castle; the lack of a response after knocking is probably a trigger for every negative thought she’s ever had about her own worth as a person to come rushing back to her.
A few of Frozen’s detractors have mentioned that the bond between the sisters makes no sense. They haven’t been friends since they were children, and distant memories of an old friend should hardly count as “True Love”. This is absolutely true, but their love is much deeper and much more complicated than that. Elsa wasn’t just Anna’s sister by the time the movie takes place, she represented the only concept of a friend Anna had ever had; she’d probably built Elsa up as larger than life in her mind throughout the years of debilitating loneliness. Her only memories of Elsa are flawless, faultless fun; she had no time to grow to see Elsa as a human being instead of an ideal. Actually interacting with her sister doesn’t even seem to strike Anna as an option anymore by the time of the coronation, given her reaction to being spoken to, but she still holds her sister on high as the unattainable perfect friend and big sister who suddenly vanished without explanation.
Elsa, for her part, came to see Anna as her responsibility. The guilt she had over what happened to Anna was clearly scarring to her, and her parents—the only regular human contact she ever had after the accident—reinforced her fears by explaining that, yes, it was absolutely her fault, and she needed to rein in her emotions to keep it from happening ever again. Protecting Anna (and everyone else, but especially Anna) was essentially her life, day in and day out, for a decade. Constant (unintentional) reinforcement from her parents starting a young age had convinced Elsa that she was the problem, and this would have prevented her from reacting to her responsibility to protect Anna with resentment. Instead, she reacted to it with guilt. However, since protecting Anna also required her to stay away from Anna at all times, Anna became sacred, in a sense: something fragile and special to be watched over but never touched or spoken to. She would come to love Anna in much the same way people come to love religious icons: Anna had always been there and had never been there. She loved Elsa and did not know Elsa. She was warm and kind and dedicated and was under no circumstances to be tainted with Elsa’s presence unless she kept the tightest possible control over herself.
Frankly, with the amount of distant worshiping going on here for so long, incest almost seems like the natural reaction to their reunion. Frozen is an incredibly fucked up story of psychological trauma dressed up as a children’s film. If we could see into the minds of these women during the film, it would undoubtedly change the tone of things drastically.