Frozen and its wonderful characters belong to Disney
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It is not my mother's dress.
It's mine now.
But it shouldn't be. Not this way.
Anna stared at her reflection in the full-length mirror, unable to banish the thought.
The more she dwelled on the somber fact, the more the tears welled in her eyes. She raised a hand to swipe at them, then stopped herself before she could ruin her carefully-applied make-up. Instead, she dabbed at them with a small lacy handkerchief, the 'something blue' that Elsa had given her for her wedding. The bit of icy fabric absorbed her tears much better than she had thought it would. And it radiated a tiny bit of arctic cold that soothed her swelling eyes and flushed face.
Of course it does. She couldn't help a little laugh. Just one more need that Elsa had anticipated and taken care of.
She stared at her reflection again.
After her engagement was announced, she and Elsa scoured the finest dress shops in Arendelle, and spent hours poring over pictures of the latest fashions from the Continent, searching for Anna's idea of the perfect wedding gown. She found nothing to satisfy her, leaving the Royal Seamstress tearing her hair out, and bumping against the end of Elsa's nearly inexhaustible patience.
Finally her sister had taken her by the hand and led her up to the attic. In the back corner, behind dusty trunks and piles of old books, stood a small wardrobe. Elsa opened the doors, and there it was.
Their mother's wedding dress.
Anna's perfect dress, tucked carefully away amidst the scents of lavender sachet, musty wood, and mothballs.
When they were little, Anna and Elsa would sneak into their mother's closet and gaze for hours at the beautiful dress with its intricate lace and beading. The bodice sparkled more beautifully than the evening stars, and the skirt was long and flowing. It was a gown fit for a beautiful, mystical princess, just like the ones in Mamma's bedtime tales.
Throughout all the long years of separation, Anna still snuck into the closet to stare at the dress. Over time, the mystical princesses of Mamma's stories took on the form and face of her sister. Only Elsa, who grew more beautiful – and more distant – with every passing day, seemed worthy of wearing the dress. She was the mysterious, magical princess of Anna's imagination.
Funny how the truth surpassed even Anna's expansive imagination.
At first, Anna had refused to wear the dress. Elsa was the oldest and the Queen; surely it was meant for her wedding day. But Elsa just shook her head.
Anna, if we wait for my wedding day, it will never be worn.
Anna stifled the familiar surge of anger and sadness at her sister's continued refusal to let herself find happiness. She picked up her veil, fumbling a bit with the tiara as she put it on, and her tears welled up again.
Mamma should be here to help me with this! Pappa should be here to walk me down the aisle!
She wrung the icy handkerchief viciously.
It's not fair!
Mamma was not there to straighten her veil. Pappa was not there to offer his arm, his eyes glowing with pride as he presented her to Kristoff. They were not there to tell her she was beautiful.
That was why she couldn't wear her mother's dress.
Then cool fingertips slipped under her chin and lifted, and she found herself looking into her sister's crystal-blue eyes.
"Here." Elsa took the handkerchief with a gentle smile. She dabbed at Anna's eyes, then fussed with the tiara, fastening it in place and smoothing the veil. Then she grasped Anna's shoulders and turned her toward the mirror.
Anna met Elsa's gaze in their reflection, struck silent by the love and joy radiating in her eyes.
"You look beautiful," Elsa whispered.
Anna sniffled and smiled as Elsa took her hand and led her to the vestibule. The chapel doors opened. Anna's breath quickened, filled with elation and excitement for the future.
Still…it was her mother's dress.
But now it was hers too.