DISCLAIMER: All of the places and characters in this story belong to Disney and are inspired by the work of Hans Christian Andersen. No profit is being made from this story. It only serves to (hopefully) entertain.
-The Little Christmas-
After twenty minutes of patiently waiting beside the tree, Kristoff headed upstairs to the bedchamber he shared with Anna. He wasn't angry that she hadn't show up for their annual tradition of exchanging small, personal gifts on Christmas Eve; on the contrary, he'd been expecting it. Earlier that day, he suggested she catch up on sleep if the opportunity presented itself, but she insisted on keeping their tradition alive and swore she'd be there. Despite his better judgment, he went to the tree at eight o'clock in the evening, an all-knowing smile crossing his face every few minutes.
He understood her absence. Between the new baby and preparing for the holiday, Anna was exhausted. At a month old, Petra was a delightful little handful who seemed to require her parents' lack of sleep as payment for the pure joy and love she brought them. For Kristoff, the sacrifice was more than worth it, and he was certain Anna felt the same way. So what if they missed their Christmas Eve routine for one year? Caring for their little girl was more important, and there were plenty more Decembers ahead of them.
The tiny, wrapped present for his wife – a wood carving of a rabbit he'd whittled himself – was still clutched in his hand when he reached their bedchamber. Kristoff opened the door quietly so he wouldn't wake her, planning to leave the gift on her bedside table before slipping into bed beside her. However, he was unexpectedly greeted with the sight of Anna, wide awake and sitting up in bed with their daughter cradled against her chest.
"Hi," she chirped when she saw him.
"Hello."
"I'm so sorry. I was going to meet you, I promise, but she was hungry and-"
"Anna, please don't worry about it," he assured her. "She's more important."
"We can still go down to the tree afterward, if you want?"
"That's okay. You're already cozy in bed." Kristoff toyed with the parcel in his hand for a moment, unsure of what to do; he felt like he was intruding on a private moment between Anna and Petra. "Should I come back later, or...?"
"Oh, Kristoff, of course not!" Anna breathed. "You're more than welcome to stay. Come sit with us."
He obliged her request and joined her on their large, cozy bed, but he didn't cuddle up to her as he normally would have. It wasn't as if Kristoff hadn't ever been nearby while Anna was feeding Petra, but he'd never been directly next to her and therefore wasn't sure how his wife would've felt if he'd snuggled close and intently watched. Anna didn't seem to mind; in fact, she appeared too enamored with Petra to even notice he was there. She didn't take her eyes off their daughter as she nursed and stroked a gentle hand over her head, smoothing over her wispy blonde hair. Kristoff glanced at her every so often and smiled.
"What?" Anna asked when she caught him looking.
"Nothing," he answered. "Sometimes I just get a little jealous of you, that's all."
Anna raised an eyebrow and grinned.
"You want to be able to feed her?"
"No!" Kristoff laughed. "That's not what I mean. It's just... well, you get to have such a special bond with her because of it."
"You're special to her, too!"
"Yeah, but not like you are. She doesn't need me as much. It's not her fault; it's just the way it-"
"Kristoff," Anna countered, "don't ever say she doesn't need you. Just because you can't feed her does not mean you aren't important."
"Still," Kristoff mumbled with a small laugh, "you know what I mean."
"Come here."
"Hm?"
Anna smiled and jerked her head, indicating for him to come closer.
"Are you sure?" he asked.
"Of course. Why wouldn't I be?"
"Well, you're feeding her, and... I don't know. Isn't it sort of private?" he added sheepishly.
"She's your daughter, too," Anna insisted. "Will you just come here? I want you to see something."
He scooted over until his shoulder was touching Anna's and gazed down at Petra, whose eyes were peacefully closed as she nursed. As it always did whenever he looked at his daughter, Kristoff's heart melted into a warm puddle of affection and pride; he was certain no amount of time would ever change that. It still amazed him that he could feel such emotion from just a glance at someone so small.
"Looks like she could fall asleep at any minute," he hummed. "She looks so cozy."
"Yeah," Anna agreed. "She usually closes her eyes about halfway through her night feeding, but she hasn't yet fallen asleep on me. Probably because I'm always talking to her."
"Really?"
"Mhm."
"What do you talk about?"
"Anything, really," Anna answered. "Sometimes I tell her a story I remember from growing up, or I just tell her about my day. Why don't you try?"
"Nah. She's content. I don't want to disturb her."
"Nonsense," Anna giggled. "Take her hand."
"Why?"
"Trust me."
Kristoff did as asked, gently grasping his daughter's tiny hand with his own. As he drew soothing circles on the back of it with his thumb, Petra's chocolate eyes reopened, gazing up at her parents.
"Hello, sweet baby," Anna cooed. Petra just continued to feed in response. "Talk to her."
"Hi, sweetheart," Kristoff began. He was silent for a moment, unsure of what to say, not that it mattered; it's not as if Petra would have been able to understand him regardless of what he was talking about. Nonetheless, as strange as it was, he didn't want to let her down with a bland story. "I'm sure your mama already told you this, but today is Christmas Eve. Tomorrow will be your first Christmas. It's probably not that exciting for you now, but in a couple of years, you'll really- Anna, is she okay?!"
Out of nowhere, Petra's suckling slowed considerably, and Kristoff looked at Anna in a panic. His wife, however, was grinning.
"She's fine," she whispered. "She's just listening to you."
"Wait, what?"
"She's interested."
"H-how do you know?"
Anna shrugged. "I just know. Most times I talk to her, she slows down, then picks right back up once I stop, almost like she's talking back." She turned her loving gaze to Kristoff. "She might not know what you're saying, but she understands that you're talking to her. She understands love. Silly as it may sound, these are some of the tenderest moments I have with her – just a little one-sided conversation."
Kristoff leaned in and gave her a quick kiss on the cheek.
"You're so incredible," he breathed.
"So are you," she swooned. "Now, keep talking. Tell her all about Christmas."
And Kristoff did. For the next ten minutes, he told Petra all about what she could expect from the holiday in future years. Eventually, he filled her in on the Christmas Eve tradition of exchanging handmade gifts he had with Anna and how it started the first year they were a couple. Kristoff even got so wrapped up in his storytelling that he told Petra what he'd made for her mother that year; Anna, with a slight pink tint present on her cheeks, had politely looked away and pretended not to hear. He never let go of his little girl's hand.
Once Petra had her fill, Anna held her close and soothingly patted her back, all while humming the tune of a lullabye. As Petra rested her head on her mother's shoulder, she continued to gaze at Kristoff. He reciprocated, whispering how much he loved her. It didn't take long for Petra's eyes to droop. He'd been about to suggest bringing her to the bassinet so Anna could remain comfortingly in bed, but he was struck with the realization that he really didn't want to.
"Can she... I mean," Kristoff amended, "does she have to sleep in her bassinet tonight? Could she stay with us?"
Anna smiled. "I was thinking the exact same thing. Do you want to take her?"
Kristoff was more than happy to accept. As he settled into the pillows, he lay Petra tummy-down atop his chest, holding her there with his right arm. With his left, he pulled Anna close, and she snuggled into him, resting her head in the crook of his shoulder.
"I'm sorry," she murmured.
"For what?"
"For messing up our tradition."
"I'm not. This is better."
"Hm. I agree," Anna sighed contently. "We'll swap them in the morning. I can't wait to see what hops out of that box you've wrapped for me."
"Funny," Kristoff playfully scoffed, and Anna giggled. He cuddled both of his girls closer to him; he was almost positive Petra had already fallen asleep. "Speaking of tomorrow, what's on the agenda?"
"There's the dinner tomorrow night."
"Yeah... I don't know about you," he hinted, "but I get the feeling I won't be feeling too well for that."
"Why's that?"
"Oh, come on," Kristoff whined. "She's not going to be little like this forever. I'd rather spend Christmas up here with her than at a fancy dinner with people I don't even like."
"Yeah, I suppose you're right," Anna agreed. She let out the most fake sounding cough he'd ever heard, and he couldn't help laughing. "Now that you mention it, I'm feeling a bit under the weather myself."
"I suppose we should try to sleep it off, then. You know... we should at least try to get better, right?"
"Right."
"And if we don't, then I suppose we have a new tradition."
"Oh? What's that?"
"Spending Christmas Day upstairs with a baby."
He felt Anna smile against his chest.
"So you plan on us having another baby by this time next year?"
Kristoff thought about it for a moment. He knew very well that both he and Anna wanted more than one child, but so soon? He loved Petra dearly, but she was quite the handful...
"Maybe in a couple of years, then," he relented with a chuckle. "A semi-annual tradition, perhaps?"
"Sounds good to me."
They shared a deep goodnight kiss before closing their eyes and drifting off to sleep. They had a big day of spending time with Petra ahead of them, and Kristoff wouldn't have rather had it any other way.
Author's Note: Thanks for reading! :)
