You Are Not Alone
She needed to be there-it was her duty as daughter, sister, and queen. Maybe, for once, her powers would stay concealed, hidden. She could push down the swell of sorrow, although it would be akin to holding back the ocean's tide. But Elsa knew she could-she had to. For Anna.
Their parents' funeral would be held early in the morning, just a week or so after the tragic news had reached Arendelle's borders. Elsa forced herself to conduct the preparations for the day, notifying the bishop and scribing letters to be sent to trading partners bordering their country.
But such duties were easy compared to seeing Anna mourning, looking much too pale and somehow older than her fifteen years. The white brand in her red hair looked all the more stark against the black mourning clothes she wore for the period of lamentation. The first time Elsa had seen Anna dressed from head to toe in black, she almost didn't recognise her, so used to Anna being vibrant in dress and mannerism. She had ached to hug her little sister, let her grieve on Elsa's shoulder.
The morning of the funeral dawned with little light, the sun's majesty suppressed by a thick shield of looming grey-black clouds. A light drizzle tickled the kingdom, fine raindrops spotting the stones of the castle. The temperature outside was mild, with little wind. By all estimates, the rain would continue drizzling in steady pitter-patter for the greater part of the day.
Meanwhile, Elsa paced in her bedroom, wringing her gloved hands, murmuring little mantras under her breath.
Conceal, conceal, you can do it. It's only for today.
Black shoes were slight heels click-clacked over carpeting still free of frost. Dark skirts swished around her ankles as the queen paced, restless, about her little space. Abruptly, she stopped her footsteps, eyes darting about the room, looking for signs of ice, frost, and snow unleashed without her own will. While traces of frost tracked the paths of restlessness, the room was otherwise free of her curse's manifestations.
Maybe I can do this today.
Her attention was drawn to the door, a little voice in the back of her head telling her it must be locked at all times. No exceptions, not even for her parents' own funeral. Yet, an even smaller, much more timid and anxious part of her said she ought, especially for her dear sister's sake. Was she really going to leave Anna all alone at the graves of Arendelle's late king and queen? Sure, it would be safer staying home, but was it really worth clinging on to that comfort over going to the funeral with Anna?
This is not for me, it's for Anna.
Taking a deep breath, Elsa strolled to the door, clutching the knob, but not yet turning it, waiting for frost to web over the brass like a spider's web spun from ice. When no ice skittered over the doorknob, Elsa released her breath. So far, safe.
The funeral will only be an hour.
And also a half-hour to get there, and a half-hour to return. Even so, two hours was enough, far too much so, time for her curse to expose itself.
Maybe I won't hurt Anna. Or anyone. Can I...no, what am I thinking?
She had to be out of her mind. She was too dangerous to everyone. But still that insistent voice urged her to go. Be there for Anna. Elsa flinched as Anna's voice came through her door.
"I'm going to the funeral now. I suppose you will still be here when I return."
That sounded nothing like the Anna she knew or remembered. Where there had been joy, there was now helpless sorrow. Where there had been optimism, there was now hopelessness. Where her words had lilted like the chirpy notes of a flute, now they were flat and listless.
Elsa opened the door, face-to-face with a surprised Anna, dressed all in black, her red hair the brightest colour on her.
"I'm coming too. Do you mind?"
Anna didn't answer for several moments, still taken speechless by Elsa's sudden appearance. Taking Anna's speechlessness as a declination, Elsa stepped back into her room, began to close the door.
"I'm sorry, I understand if you don't want me there."
I shut her out for ten years, after all.
"What?" Anna found her voice. "No, no. I mean, I'll be grateful to have you at the funeral too."
"I don't know how much support I will be, Anna."
"Oh, you will be. I know you will." Anna offered Elsa the smallest of smiles. "Thanks, Elsa."
The servant, who was to escort them to the gate looked just as surprised as Anna had that Elsa had stepped out of her room. He offered the queen a small bow and his condolences for the royal sisters' grave loss. Anna thanked him while Elsa remained silent, as though it would help hold back the curse all the more. Nonetheless, she still offered the smallest of nods in recognition of his words of condolence. No-one said a word until the servant and royal sisters reached the gates where a carriage waited to take them to their parents' graves mounted high up in the cliffs.
Elsa and Anna sat together at the back of the rolling carriage, behind the driver, Kai. Elsa certainly wouldn't have trusted a civilian driver, no matter how genuine of heart he happened to be, not with the danger of her powers being exposed. Elsa was under no delusion that word would never get out about her powers, should they manifest themselves. She took no chances.
"I miss them."
Elsa twitched-Anna had been so quiet all the way up the winding road dancing its path among damp grass, wildflowers, and flocks of birds that flew in a startled burst as the carriage crunched past. Elsa's shoulders hunched under her thick cloak, willing herself to control her powers. When no frost or snow fell from the carriage roof, the blonde relaxed just an increment.
"You're not alone," she whispered before she could stop herself.
Anna's head bowed, eyes fixed on her white hands, so pale against her charcoal skirt.
"We only have each other," Anna murmured at her hands, "it's just you and me.".
Ice clung to Elsa's ribs, squeezing her heart, clutching at her very soul. Her palms tingled, and she quickly pressed gloved hands against each other. She squeezed her eyes shut, eyebrows drawing together in her efforts to suppress her curse. Leaning her head against the back of the seat, the young queen lost herself in the sensations of the carriage rolling along the lonely path, and in the rhythmic clip-clop of the dappled grey horse with its white mane trotting its passengers to their sombre destination.
Her eyes fluttered open as the carriage slowed to a halt, the horse snorting softly as he was pulled to a stop. A short distance away in front of them stood a modest crowd of servants who had served the late king and queen, a couple royal Arendelle guards, a few wealthy members of society indirectly attached to the castle, and the Bishop of Arendelle himself. Elsa estimated it had taken about half an hour to arrive at their destination, and still they were the last to arrive.
I hope we haven't kept them waiting long.
Kai held the mare still as the royal siblings stepped out of the carriage, holding up their skirts just enough for the hems not to drag in the wet grass. While the funeral procession proceeded, Kai would stay back in the carriage, keeping the horse company. As Elsa took a moment to gather herself on standing outside, shoulders tense, arms wrapped over her torso, Anna stepped around to stand at her side, close enough that her shoulder brushed the queen's. Elsa flinched away when Anna tried to touch her elbow. Sensing Elsa wasn't keen on being touched, even in an act of consolation, Anna folded her hands together in front of her skirts, one hand on top of the other.
"I will be right here," Anna assured, "You know, if you do want to go back at any time, Kai will have the carriage here. I will be happy to represent for both of us."
Elsa was sure she had never heard Anna so serious before. Even so, when she locked eyes with her, Anna gave her another little nod of encouragement.
"I know," Elsa said, grateful her powers still kept itself concealed, "but it is my duty to be here too."
The two sisters had already began making their way to the towering gravestones bearing their parents' names, their cause of death, their birth and death years, and a little prayer plus verse for their lost souls. Before the stone markers stood a couple of the royal Arendelle guards whom had gone before the sisters. Both had their heads bowed, but looked up in synchronisation when the queen and her sister strolled to stand between the stones. Anna took her place near their mother's grave, while Elsa stood closer to their father's.
Now that the royal family, or what remained of it, were present, the Bishop of Arendelle began the sermon. Elsa prayed to anyone who might be listening above that her powers would not expose itself. Fortunately, the weather was miserable enough that a drop-perhaps by a measure of a few degrees-would not be considered too odd. Unusual perhaps, but not completely out of the ordinary.
The Bishop droned on, reading from his Bible, offering up hymns and verses to guide the king and queen's departed spirits and ask to comfort those left behind, most especially Queen Elsa and Princess Anna. While Elsa stared resolutely above the Bishop's head, much of her energy was devoted to just keeping her curse in check, desperate no-one, particularly Anna, ever be aware of her sorcery. She let the Bishop's words fly past her like the soft breeze, immediately forgetting everything he said. She pretended not to notice Anna wiping her eyes as discretely as possible, glancing at Elsa as she did so, like she was worried the queen would see her crying. Was Anna feeling guilty about crying in front of Elsa? The next time Anna locked eyes-red, swollen from tears-with Elsa, the latter mouthed, "it's okay". Perhaps Anna understood, for she didn't look so concerned about her own tears after that.
"And now, let us pray in our minute of silence," the bishop declared, closing his little book with the barest rustling of its yellowed pages.
All present bowed their heads and closed their eyes in deep prayer and respect for the deceased lost at sea. When Elsa glanced down at her feet, she managed to swallow down her gasp of alarm. The stalks of grass around and near her feet glistened with a veneer of frost.
Oh no, she pleaded, not now. It's almost over. Just a few more minutes...
The frost spread, icing over a small puddle next to Anna. Elsa's heart thudded, expecting Anna to notice at any moment. Instinctively, Elsa folded her arms over her torso, as though it would hold back her curse.
Conceal, don't feel!
Maybe she ought to go back now-her powers were already clawing its way out of her like a vicious, trapped bear seeking freedom.
Yet, she couldn't bring herself to leave. Her sister needed her here, and here she would stay. The ache to comfort her sister was so overwhelming, too painful to dwell on for longer than a moment. No, curse or not, Elsa could not find it in herself to abandon Anna with the graves of their own mother and father.
I need to stay here. For Anna. For everyone.
At last, the funeral ended, people slowly leaving to return home in their own horse and carriages. Elsa and Anna both found themselves inundated with sympathy and words of comfort. Both thanked all whom addressed them with compassion and tears. But even Anna-the undisputed socialite-looked ready to escape back to the carriage, to retreat into the castle, away from all the well-meaning funeral-goers. When she could, Elsa thanked the good, loyal Bishop of Arendelle, but they really must go now.
"I understand," he said, "have courage."
We're trying to.
Aloud, all Elsa managed was, "thank you."
Freed from the crowd, the two royals strolled side by side, heading back to their own carriage, now that the funeral had come to its conclusion.
"Thank you, Elsa," Anna said in a soft voice, "for, you know, being there. It meant a lot to me."
Elsa nodded. "Me too, Anna. You are not alone."
"This is going to sound weird, but I'm looking forward to getting away from them all-I feel like if I hear one more 'I'm sorry', I'll...I don't know."
"It starts to sound the same."
Anna halted in her path, Elsa stopping too.
"I never thought about that...but I think you're right. I mean, they mean well, they're doing it from a place of love. Still..."
"You start to weary of it."
"Maybe."
Anna folded her arms, hunching her shoulders, digging the toe of one shoe in the damp earth. Elsa watched her, feeling as though she were looking into a mirror. Strange how Anna looked so much like her, arms hugging her middle, her head bowed, shoulders tense and hunched. Eyes welling with tears, Elsa strolled to stand at her side.
"Anna, I will always be listening," Elsa promised, "You can tell me anything if you need to. I give you full permission to come to my door and cry, ramble, or just be, whenever you need to. You've never, and never will be, alone, even with a door between us."
Anna gazed up at Elsa, fresh tears tracking down her cheeks.
"Promise?"
"I promise. You are not alone, Anna, not as long as I can help it. Now let's go home, shall we?"