Frozen fanfiction: Søsken
Summary: An accident in the North Mountain forces Elsa to spend several weeks in her brother’s apartment under Anna’s care. During that time, Anna realises there is more to Elsa than meets the eye. The truth about Elsa’s past comes to light after an unexpected family reunion, and both girls’ lives begin to fall apart when they realise Elsa wasn’t the only one with a big secret and a turbulent past.
Anna/Kristoff - Elsa - Family - Family drama - hurt/comfort - Modern AU - Elsa & Kristoff are adoptive brother and sister - Ice bros - Found family - Serious injuries - Mental health issues - Health issues - Frohana
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Chapters 1 to 10 - Here Chapters 11 to 20 - Here Chapters 21 to 30 - Here Chapters 31 to 40 - Here Chapter 41 to 50 - Here Chapter 51 - Here Chapter 52 - Here Chapter 53 - Here Chapter 54 - Here Chapter 55 - Here
- Sound of silence
Anna had barely stepped inside her parent’s house when the smell of her mother’s cooking filled the air around her. It had been over two weeks since she had last visited her parents’ house and only now she realised how much she had missed the simple things.
Despite missing the quiet evenings with her mother from time to time, she was thankful Kristoff had asked her to live together before Elsa’s ordeal began. Not only was his apartment significantly closer to the clinic, but she was glad she didn’t need to come home to the uncomfortable tension between her parents every evening —especially not after having been sitting in the waiting room for hours.
There were days she wondered what their arguments were about. Most of the time they were about Elsa, she knew. But she had never felt comfortable staying long enough to find out what exactly they were saying. Something deep inside told her it was best that way.
As she left her bag on the floor to then hang her coat, she thought back to the last time she had entered the house. Agdar and Idunn had been engrossed in a fight, and instead of trying to intervene, she had simply rushed upstairs, picked some clothes and left before they had the chance to even notice her presence.
Deep down she hoped this time would be different and she’d be able to enjoy a quiet evening with them instead.
“Anna?”
She heard her mother’s voice coming from the kitchen. A moment later, Idunn walked into the hall, her expression lighting up as soon as she saw her.
“Oh, sweetheart…” She closed the distance between them quickly, reaching for Anna’s face before she pulled her into her arms. “It’s been days.”
Sinking into the warmth of her mother’s arms, Anna let herself enjoy the comfort she offered.
“I know,” Anna murmured. “I’m sorry I haven’t visited. Things have been— It’s been hard.”
Idunn pulled back just enough to look her in the eyes. “I can imagine,” she whispered, her voice laced with sadness. She then frowned, brushing Anna’s hair back behind her ear. “You look exhausted.”
Anna gave a small, tired laugh. Her mother had always read her like an open book. “Kristoff hasn’t been sleeping much these past few weeks. I’ve been keeping him company.”
Idunn’s shoulders slumped, the relief at seeing her quickly being replaced by deep concern for their wellbeing. "Poor thing. He must be so worried. At least he can now visit her."
Anna let go of her mother and gave a small shrug. “We only got the chance to see her for the first time two days ago.”
Idunn frowned with confusion. “I thought you said the doctor was going to let you see her last week.”
“That was the plan,” Anna explained. She kneeled to take some books out of her bag and then hung it next to her jacket. “Nielsen pushed the date back. Elsa was still too weak and confused. She had to stay in the ICU for a couple more days.”
Closing her eyes, her mother took a deep breath before she asked, “How is she now?”
Anna hesitated for a moment. Despite knowing there was no reason to lie to her mother, she couldn’t stand the dejected look in her eyes whenever they talked about Elsa’s health.
“She’s in a lot of pain,” she finally admitted. “She’s on painkillers, anxiolytics and… and I don’t know what else. It’s hard to keep track of everything they tell us.”
“I can’t believe a simple cut can cause all of this,” Idunn murmured, as if she was merely thinking out loud. “If I had known…”
Raising an eyebrow, Anna looked at her expecting her to finish the idea.
Waving a hand in front of her, Idunn dismissed it. “It’s hard to imagine a home accident can put your health at risk like this. That’s all.”
Anna nodded briefly and opened her mouth to reply, though the smell of something burning caught her attention. “Talking about accidents… Did you turn off the stove?”
“Oh, no,” exclaimed Idunn as she rushed into the kitchen. “No, no.”
Anna shook her head and followed her mother, a small smile tugging at her lips. She could only hope whatever she had been cooking was still edible.
Before going into the kitchen, Anna detoured to her father’s office to return the books he had lent her. A pile of scattered papers and folders on top of his desk caught her eye, making her curious.
Knowing one day she would be expected to take over the company, Anna began inspecting the balance sheets and reports. Everything belonged to ArenCo, like she had suspected, and half the things were documents she barely understood.
Letting out a tired sigh, she remembered she was supposed to start learning more about the family business sooner or later. She had never paid too much attention to it before; but knowing about Elsa's existence, about her struggles, and now the possibility of her not recovering entirely, she wanted to make sure their part of the company would be secure and profitable. It was the very least she could do for her sister.
Absent-mindedly, she kept looking at the documents while her mind wandered back to Elsa. Despite the doctors’ original prognosis, she trusted Elsa to be stubborn enough to overcome whatever was coming now and prove doctors wrong. But even if she did, Elsa still had a long way to go.
“It is a big step.” Gerda had said, talking about Elsa standing. “But she won’t get up and walk out of here in a week. There will be a lot of pain. A lot of frustration… And days where she won’t want to try at all.”
The idea of her sister not wanting to try was what scared her the most. She wasn’t entirely sure how to help if it came to that. And she wasn't sure how it could affect Kristoff.
Shaking her head, Anna tried to stay positive. She needed to see Elsa’s first steps as what they were, the first steps to her recovery, not something to brush off.
Anna put the books away in the bookshelf, and only when she turned to leave did she notice her father’s handwriting standing out in red over one of the balance sheets. Negative numbers were scrawled over the printed figures, marking a substantial withdrawal. Hundreds of thousands had been taken from the company’s funds, and for a moment she wondered how such a large amount had gone over the accountants' heads.
Elsa’s expenses then came to mind.
She picked the balance sheet and inspected it. The notes underneath seemed to be a reminder of some kind. A conversation Agdar still needed to have with someone inside the company. Her sister’s name was among those notes, proving her right.
Anna was grateful her father had the means to cover Elsa’s hospitalization. Her in-laws and Kristoff could’ve never shouldered such an overwhelming debt on their own, no matter how hard they tried. Still, she couldn’t help wondering if there existed the chance Haugen could ask for more money before Elsa was discharged from the clinic. And if the company would be willing to shoulder those expenses as well.
Cold fear ran down her spine, like a bucket of ice water dumped over her shoulders. Seeing those numbers, scrawled over the balance sheet like a warning. It reminded her Elsa wasn’t safe. Her health was only part of the reason to worry, and Anna was running out of reasons to stay hopeful.
“Dinner isn't entirely ruined!” She heard her mother calling from the kitchen, startling her.
Knowing it was a matter of time until Idunn came looking for her. She placed the sheet back onto the desk, she took one more deep breath and tried to get a grip of her emotions before she met her mother again.
---
As soon as Anna entered the kitchen, Idunn could tell something was wrong.
She looked distracted, her gaze far off and her shoulders hunched in a way that hadn’t been mere minutes before. It was like the weight of some invisible truth had settled over her, like she’d received terrible news in the time she walked from the front door to the kitchen.
Idunn missed the days when Anna would come straight to her with whatever was on her mind. She missed the way they used to talk without all these careful silences. Their relationship had changed. They both had. Somewhere along the way, it had morphed into something Idunn barely recognized, and she wasn’t sure how to start fixing their strained relationship.
She hoped that spending this quiet evening together, after so long, would help them narrow the breach between them. And more importantly, she hoped Anna’d feel comfortable sharing whatever had got grip of her thoughts.
“I was making pasta,” Idunn said after a long silence. She lifted the lid from the pot to reveal the burnt remnants of the sauce inside. “This was supposed to be bolognese…” The smell said otherwise. It was sharp and bitter. Still, the sight drew a faint chuckle from both of them, even when their smiles didn’t reach their eyes.
“Is cheese sauce okay?” she asked, reaching for another pot. She’d prepare anything that’d help lift her daughter’s spirits.
Anna smiled and nodded, but remained concerningly quiet otherwise. She simply slid into her usual seat at the kitchen table, and watched her cook.
Idunn prepared the ingredients she needed in silence. And began stealing glances over her shoulder as she cooked.
Anna looked tired. Worn out in a way that she hasn't seen before. Like the last few weeks —months truly— had finally caught up with her.
At the sight, Idunn couldn’t help but remember Elsa. Thinking back to the last time she had seen her before the hospital. She had sat in that same chair. Thin, quiet, eyes sunken with exhaustion.
Pain and regret pulled at Idunn’s heart right then. She’d had the chance to help. She’d known something wasn’t right but hadn’t done enough. She didn't want to be the one to push too hard, the fear of losing her stopped her from doing what she knew was best. She now hated herself for putting her own fears before Elsa’s needs that day. If only she had driven her to the ER, she might have kept her from ending up in the hospital. Maybe even spared her the heartache of hearing what Agdar had said as well.
The silence between mother and daughter stretched, and Idunn couldn’t hold herself back any longer.
“You were telling me about Elsa,” she finally said, her voice gentle, afraid any wrong word would drive her younger daughter away as well.
Anna hesitated like there were too many things to say. Idunn could see the way her daughter’s jaw tightened, trying to find a version of the truth that didn’t hurt to speak out loud.
“I spent most of the day with her on Thursday,” Anna said eventually, a small smile tugging at the corner of her lips. “Gerda let me stay with her. Keep them both company.”
Idunn sighed, a small smile drawing in her face despite the pain she felt for not being the one there by their daughters’ side. She was thankful life had allowed Elsa into Gerda’s life. As well as Anna. She was certain the woman loved them both and was doing everything in her power to protect them in her own way.
“She’s recovering. Sort of. Slowly…” Anna trailed off.
There was a heaviness in Anna’s voice. Something that told Idunn she wasn’t being completely honest, or in the very least, trying hard to make things look better than they were.
“I wish I could do something. Help in any way,” Idunn admitted.
“You and Dad are helping. What you’re giving her is more than Kai or Gerda could ever pay on short notice.”
Anna meant well, but the words hit differently. Money didn’t fix things. Not this. Not what had been said or what was left unsaid for too many years. “It isn’t the same, dear. We aren’t helping Elsa overcome any of it with just money.”
“Maybe you can be there for her now. Show her you care,” Anna said with a sad smile. “Gerda says she’ll probably have a hard time dealing with everything that happened to her in the last month. Having people who care around might be the best for her.”
“I don’t think I’d be welcome.”
“You’re family.”
Idunn let out a soft breath. “I wasn’t there when she needed me the most, Anna. I can’t pretend otherwise. I don’t want to force myself into her life if she doesn’t want me there.”
Anna hesitated for a moment. “You want to see her, don’t you?”
Her fingers tightened around the dishcloth in her hand. The question hurt, no matter how innocently Anna had meant it to be. The question felt too direct, trying to expose something that wasn’t there.
“Of course I do. It’s been hard staying at home… Waiting,” she said. Her voice was low, slightly offended, but Idunn gave a faint shake of her head, getting rid of the feeling. “I still think it’s best to wait. At least until she’s feeling better.”
Anna didn’t argue, but she still looked unconvinced. Idunn knew she was in the right to doubt her. The thing is, she was afraid of walking into Elsa’s life too soon. Too fast. She did agree Elsa needed all the help she could get, especially now that she was inside that clinic, surrounded by unreliable people.
Making up her mind, Idunn left the kitchen and made her way to the living room. She needed to prove —even if it was with something small— that she was thinking of Elsa. That she did care.
Quickly searching on her bookshelf, she found the book she’d set aside earlier that week. It was old and it portrayed several characters on the cover, among them a familiar snowman. The edition was different, older, an anthology of short stories. But she knew, without a doubt, Elsa would enjoy it. That it would help her get her mind off things for a while.
When she turned around, she saw Anna standing not far from her, intrigued by what she was doing.
“I’ve got something she might like,” Idunn said. “Days have been quiet without you here. I’ve been helping Helga at the shop during the afternoons—it helps keep my mind busy. She found it while going through some boxes in the back. I bought it for her.”
She held the book out to her, and Anna took it gently, her thumb brushing over its worn edges.
“Maybe she’d like something to keep her mind entertained.”
Anna’s expression shifted. She blinked at the cover, recognition dawning in her eyes. “This is—”
The corners of Idunn’s lips lifted as she nodded. “Didn’t you say she loved the other one?”
“You should be the one giving it to her this time,” Anna said straight away.
Idunn’s smile faltered. “Who knows when I’ll get to see her. You better give it to her.”
Anna frowned. “Mum, it’s from you.”
Though Idunn was already turning back towards the kitchen. It hurt to make that choice. She wanted to agree with Anna in a heartbeat. She wanted to use this or any other excuse to go see Elsa. But she couldn’t ignore the hurt in Elsa’s face the last time they saw each other. She might not have said anything, but she was begging her to let her go, not to force her way into her life. Especially not after Agdar’s admission.
“I don’t want to intrude,” she said when Anna called her name again.
Anna sat back down and stopped insisting when she noticed she wouldn’t change her mind. She looked down at the book, turning a few pages absent-mindedly.
Silence fell between them, and Idunn felt guilty for ignoring Anna’s wishes. Things weren’t so simple, and there was no right way to explain her reasons without breaking Elsa’s promise.
“Where’s Dad?” Anna asked after a while, when the food was ready and Idunn asked her to put the book away.
“He’s been working late these last few days,” Idunn replied, reaching for the dishes in an attempt to avoid any further questions.
The truth was, Agdar had been working late most days, coming home long after she’d had dinner. He always apologized. For being late, for forgetting to call. And the apology was real, so was the reason. Still, there was a distance between them that neither knew how to bridge, and Idunn wasn’t entirely sure she cared.
She hadn’t forgiven him for the pain he had inflicted on Elsa. It had been too blunt for her to brush off. They were both responsible for their choices, but his words had caused damage. Irreversible damage. The kind that settled deep and didn’t go away just because he said sorry.
“Will he join us for dinner?” Anna asked, unsure what her silence meant.
“I don’t know,” Idunn admitted. She didn’t want to tell her something had broken between them, but she wouldn’t lie for him either. “He hasn’t called.”
---
Cold air swept into the room, chilling Kristoff to the bone. The last hour or so he had made an effort to tolerate it, but as the night set in, it was becoming more and more unbearable.
The cold wasn't coming from the open window alone. Kristoff knew that much. There was something else than the crisp autumn air. It was the kind of cold that would creep under his sister's bedroom door late at night when they were younger. The kind that had hung in the air the first few months she had come to live with them. The exact kind that let him know she wasn’t having a good day.
Shaking his head, he tried not to think too much about it. He hated those moments when he became overly aware of his sister’s powers. When the bitterness towards them controlled his thoughts and he couldn’t focus on anything else. It wasn’t that he didn’t accept them, but it was hard to see something shape and control the life of someone you loved and not become slightly resentful over time.
Putting his hands back in his pockets, he tried to get rid of the chill running down his back before Elsa noticed. His eyes darted to her and noticed with a heavy heart that she was still in the same position. Curled up beneath the blankets, her face turned slightly away from him, facing the darkness outside.
While some others could say she was simply lost in thought, he could see the tension in her expression. Her brows were furrowed just enough to show it. And either she was thinking deeply about something, or making a strenuous effort to control her powers. He had always had trouble discerning the two.
He straightened up in the chair, folding his arms over his chest in a vain attempt to stay warm. Though the movement caught Elsa’s attention and she slowly turned to look at him. She pressed her lips together as her eyes flickered towards the window for a split second.
"You can close it," she finally murmured.
"Huh?" he said, pretending he hadn’t been thinking about it for the last hour.
"The window." Her voice was soft, barely there, and she kept avoiding his eyes. "You can close it if you're cold."
The awkwardness of the moment made him miss the days Elsa would not only look at him, but also make playful remarks about him not tolerating the smallest gust of wind. On occasions, he’d even suck it up just to prove to her it didn’t bother him. It had always been a stupid thing between them, and he wondered how long it'd take for things to be like that again. The most pessimistic part of him told him nothing would truly go back to the way things were before the illness—or before she found her biological family, and her life came crashing down around her.
"I'm not c—" He stopped. Then glanced between her and the open window hesitating, there was no reason to lie after all. Instead, he said, "It isn't necessary."
She didn’t argue like he’d have hoped. She simply looked away, which was a lot worse.
"A nurse will come and close it eventually," she muttered. "They always do."
He exhaled quietly, stepping towards the window and sliding it shut. The latch clicked into place, but the cold didn’t leave. He rubbed his arms, pretending he was shaking off the lingering chill.
"Thanks," he said, moving back to her bedside. "I know you enjoy the cold breeze, but it's getting colder and colder every day. Autumn is going by faster than I imagined."
Elsa knitted her brows, her eyes fixing on her hands as she tried to make sense of what he’d said. "September’s just begun."
Kristoff frowned and before he could stop himself he said, "It's October."
He saw it then, the moment she narrowed her eyes and her fingers tensed against the sheets. It was subtle, but it was there. A moment of realization settling in, a quiet kind of shock that she didn’t voice.
He cursed his own stupidity for not being more careful, for not realising she was still adapting to everything that had happened. He wanted to snap at the doctors for not taking the time to explain things to her. Though there was no reason to fight over choices that had already been made.
"You were in a coma for over two weeks," he explained.
Leaning forward, he rested his forearms on his knees. His eyes fixed on the floor while his mind wandered back to those long nights. He’d been too worried to fall asleep, and when sleep did come, he always woke up agitated. Afraid his mother would call to tell him she was gone.
He tried to keep his tone gentle, but deep down knew it wouldn’t make a difference. "And another week and a half in the ICU after you woke up."
She didn’t say anything at first. Just stared down at her hands, her expression unreadable.
"I'm sorry," he whispered. "I know it must be difficult to—"
"There isn't anything we can do about it," she cut in, her voice surprisingly soft and understanding.
It wasn’t the first time Elsa had lost time, he guessed. Who knew how many weeks had gone by in her life, in her childhood, without her realising it. The thought did nothing to appease the heartache. "No, I guess not."
Silence stretched between them, heavily. Like there was so much more they wanted to say to one another and they didn’t know how. Kristoff shifted his weight in the small chair. He glanced at her thin hand which gripped the sheet as an anchor. She had always been slender, but he hadn't seen her this way ever since she moved in with his parents.
A memory came to him then. They’d been together in her bedroom. Elsa sitting in bed, her frail body too weak for her to do much else. It was the first week after she had reentered his life, and he had been too ecstatic to wait for her to feel better to spend time with her.
He remembered the way he had talked, fast and hopeful, filling the silences she didn’t know how to break. She had nodded along, barely speaking, only asking for one thing…
"Remember when you first came to live with Mum and Dad?" he asked.
Her fingers twitched slightly, but she turned her head in his direction. At least he had sparked her curiosity. He took that tiny movement as a small gift. She didn’t speak, but he thought he saw the faintest trace of a question there.
"I used to spend my days in your room," he said. "You’d ask me to open your window despite the cold winter air, and I always did. It used to drive mum crazy. She was afraid we’d get sick or something." He smiled faintly at the memory. "She got tired of nagging me eventually and bought me this thick woollen sweater instead… I should have brought one of those today."
Elsa’s brow furrowed. "I don’t remember that."
A sad smile drew on his face. Of course, she didn’t. There had been too much to take in back then. An open window and a new sweater had probably been the least of her concerns.
"I don't blame you," he said. "There were all these new things for you to get used to."
"Like how to open a window?"
He chuckled. It was a joke made out of frustration, he knew, but at least it was something other than a tired sigh or tense silence. "It was the first week or so. You were still bedridden back then, you couldn’t open the window on your own."
"Those days are all blurry," she admitted. Her brows furrowed, as if she was still trying to remember.
His smile faded slightly. "Every evening Mum would come home with bags full of things for you—clothes, stuffed animals, things for your room. She must have felt guilty at some point, so she started bringing me gifts as well." He let out a small chuckle, shaking his head. "That woman’s got a heart of gold."
When he looked at her again, her gaze held an ache that hadn’t been there a moment before. She wasn’t even looking at him anymore. Her eyes had drifted back to her hands, or maybe beyond them, towards something only she could see. Something was occupying his sister’s mind, but he knew it had nothing to do with their conversation.
“Els?” He called when the silence stretched longer than he expected.
“Is mum okay?" she asked suddenly, catching him off guard.
Kristoff froze, his heart stopping for a split second. "What?"
"Gerda." Her voice was firmer as she met his eyes. "Is she okay?"
Kristoff felt his stomach tighten. "Why do you ask?"
"Is she?"
He could lie. He should lie. But Elsa’s gaze was on him now, sharp and searching, desperate in a way that made his throat feel tight.
"No," he said finally, regretting it as soon as he noticed the pain in her eyes. “I mean, she’s tired— But she’s okay, yes.”
"Kristoff." Her voice didn’t waver, but there was something fragile about it. "I’m still trying to make sense of everything that happened, so please, I need you to be honest with me. Is she okay?"
He opened his mouth, then closed it again. He was afraid of saying too much. He wasn’t even sure she was asking about their mother getting hurt. So he settled for something honest in between.
“It’s been a long month. We were all worried about you. I guess now that you’re back, it’s catching up with her. But you don’t need to worry.”
Elsa looked unconvinced, but she didn’t push. Her eyes drifted back to the window.
Kristoff felt bad for her—guilty, too—for being part of the tangled web of lies surrounding his sister. A web he hadn’t spun, but hadn’t fought hard enough to escape either.
“They wouldn’t let us into the ICU. It was either Mum or Marshall. Mum didn’t want to leave you alone during the day. She couldn’t, really… She didn’t want to be anywhere else.” He hoped what he was offering helped ease her mind, at least until he could talk to their mother. Gerda needed to make up her mind and come clean to Elsa.
“She’s tired, Elsa. But she’s so happy you’re awake. That you’re getting better,” he said with a small smile.
The words didn’t seem to help much, but before he could say anything else, the door opened widely letting one of the nurses in.
"Time for a quick check-up," she announced. She rubbed her arms and glanced at the now closed window. "Good heavens, it’s freezing in here."
Kristoff stood up and introduced himself, not having met the old lady before. “I’m Kristoff. Elsa’s brother.” He cast a brief look at the window as well and explained, "I opened the window earlier; we enjoy the fresh air.”
The woman shook his hand but didn’t say anything, only nodded. Kristoff then stepped aside to let her work.
Noticing his sister sinking further into herself, however, he decided to keep a close eye, just in case he was needed. In their last meeting, Nielsen had explained that not every nurse in the ward was aware of Elsa’s condition. Only a couple from the ICU had been brought in. Those he trusted enough to handle things when the subject of ice came up. Outside their presence, it was safer to keep everything under wraps.
Elsa’s powers were still being monitored, controlled as best as possible with the help of anxiolytics. They dulled them, just enough to keep things stable. But not enough to stop them entirely. Or so it seemed. The chilling air in the room said otherwise and he made a mental note to discuss it with his mother as well.
The nurse picked up the clipboard from the foot of the bed and began asking a series of questions. Most of them sounded routine, borderline unnecessary, but he figured they were meant to ensure Elsa was still responsive. Her mental state had been one of Nielsen’s main concerns, but since leaving the ICU, she seemed more alert with each day. At least in terms of memory and awareness.
Kristoff’s curiosity in the check-up picked up when he heard the nurse ask about her feeling any pain.
"The usual," Elsa whispered, still not looking at the woman.
"How about nausea?"
A small nod.
The nurse made a note on a separate notebook and left the clipboard in its place.
"You still feel nauseous?" Kristoff interrupted, unable to hide his concern.
"It’s the medicine," the nurse said matter-of-factly.
She then moved to adjust the IV, injecting some more medication in the bag. Kristoff grimaced knowing it would only make Elsa feel worse in the next few hours, but he guessed it was necessary. Until the day she was discharged, there was nothing to do about it.
Kristoff watched his sister carefully. She wasn’t looking at either of them, her gaze focused on the sheets she kept gripping tightly. There was something in her resignation that didn't sit well with him. No matter the reason she had been hospitalized before, she had always put up a fight. Even in the smallest things, she never complied, not entirely. Now, she seemed resigned to accept whatever came her way, and not in a calm, understanding way, but in the kind that suggested it no longer mattered.
The fire was out.
And for the first time since she had fallen ill, his fears shifted. It wasn’t her physical health that worried him now, but her mind. Her spirit. His concerns were now fixed on whether his sister still had any strength left in her.
---
Kristoff pulled his jacket tighter around himself as he stepped out of the clinic. The cold night air bit at his skin and the soft, cold drizzle fell steadily, explaining why the streets were so empty on a Saturday night.
It was almost midnight by the time he left his sister’s room. He’d called Marshall earlier that day, asking him to show up around eleven instead of eight. He’d wanted a bit more time with Elsa, just the two of them. It hadn’t made much of a difference, but at least he had got the chance to be with her and hopefully let her know how much he missed her. He regretted not being more open with his feelings sometimes, hopefully she noticed how much he truly cared.
Despite his regrets, he had at least been with her for more than an hour. And that counted for something. The more he thought about his sister and everything she was going through, the more he missed the days when she used to let her walls down around him more easily.
He guessed that, in a quiet, altered way, she still tried. Her voice lingered in his mind, soft with concern. He couldn’t shake the look in her eyes when she’d asked about Gerda. It had unsettled him more than he cared to admit, knowing he couldn’t say what had really happened and how their mother was truly feeling.
He hated that she doubted herself. But he couldn’t ignore the truth either. The burn on Gerda’s arm was real, and it had to be acknowledged with care. Elsa wouldn’t see what they saw: An accident, an unconscious reflex. Instead she’d believe she couldn’t be trusted.
His thoughts weighed on him as he turned a familiar corner, his feet carrying him past a building with a dimly lit entrance. He paused, eyes drawn to the worn steps he had climbed so many times as a kid.
The orphanage stood tall, weathered but intact despite the years gone by. His first home. Or at least, the first home he could remember. He couldn’t say life had been hard in that place, but it hadn't been warm either. Not in the way life with Kai and Gerda was. The few good memories he had were tied to Elsa and his parents, more than the institution itself.
It was strange to realise how many years had gone by, and how little things had really changed. He was still afraid of losing those he had got to call his family. He was still chasing after Elsa in a way. He was still filled with child-like wonder whenever she used her powers and still quietly resentful of those same powers keeping them apart. Things were so different, yet he and his sister were still frozen in time, haunted by the shadows they never learned to leave behind.
Sometimes he wondered what Elsa thought of that place. What her memories of that time were. He had never asked. They’d talked about it here and there, but the conversations never lasted more than a minute or two. A shared memory. A passing question. Something small to acknowledge their shared past. He suspected they both avoided it on purpose.
He didn’t really understand why, of all times, those thoughts were surfacing now. But he pushed them aside and kept going. It was late, and he suspected his parents were already asleep—but he couldn’t return to his place without speaking to them first. Shaking his head, he continued down the road to their house.
---
Guess what’s back. Back again. Søsken’s back. Tell a friend.
It’s been so long! I’m sorry for taking more than I expected to come back to this story. But the Søsken prequel “Kjølig Vennskap” kept me truly entertained the last couple of months.
If you haven’t read it yet, I suggest you jump straight to it after this chapter. It doesn’t change Søsken’s story in the slightless, but it gives you more background on Elsa and Marshall’s friendship. It also let us see more about Elsa’s life in the mountain and how she adapted to life on her own. If you do read it, let me know what you think of it!
Anyway, about this chapter. I was originally planning to include Kristoff’s conversation with his parents in this chapter as well, but then I realised the chapter was already 6k+ words and I thought it was best to divide it in two. So that means I’ll be posting chapter 57 soon, hopefully.
Also, some of you were a bit confused as to how we jumped from Elsa being confused inside the ICU one chapter and in a common ward the next. I purposely made the time jump rather fast to explain it later on in this chapter. I hope it’s a bit more clear now! I’m not really good at showing time going by as you may have noticed.
Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this chapter. It’s a quiet one, more like a transition than anything else. Let me know what you think.
I’m sorry I haven’t answered your comments yet, but trust me when I say I’ve enjoyed reading each and every one. Reading your opinions really makes my day.Enjoy and I hope to read you all soon!
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Tag time:
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As usual, let me know if I need to stop tagging you. Take care!
