Written for Maidenjedi at the Not Prime Time 2014 exchange.
(This got a little longer than I'd intended, whoops. Hand-wavy Arendelle politics and lots of OCs of the political-leader persuasion. Ooh, and a Bechdel Test pass ^^)
It was so cold.
Her fingers trembled when she held them up to her face, blue spreading from the tips like the ice across the fjord, and she couldn't feel them anymore, couldn't feel anything. Her body shook like an autumn leaf in the wind, the spasms entirely out of her control.
And she was afraid.
She tried to move, made a vague attempt at crawling for the door (which was probably locked, anyways). Her arms gave out and she slumped to the floor, panting. The spot just above her heart where Elsa had struck her hurt, the only sensation in her entire body, pulsing colder and colder until she could feel it burn – something she had never understood about ice, how it could scorch like fire if you held on too long.
Frozen heart, yeah, great. Couldn't have picked a more peaceful way to kill me, huh?
She fell back against the hearth, her back to the warm stone – at least, she knew it ought to be warm, that the fire licking at the wood behind her should have been enough to melt even her, but she couldn't feel it. Couldn't feel much of anything, in fact.
There was ice creeping across her vision and she knew there was a reason she ought to get up, keep moving, find – someone, she couldn't quite remember now, and – it was so cold.
Her eyes drifted shut.
.❅.
Anna woke to the howling of wind with the startled realization that she shouldn't have woken at all. Elsa's strike had been lethal, and so she must be dead after all, and now she was a ghost or something and stuck in the room where her body had finally succumbed to the cold.
And then the shutter banged open again, caught by the howling gale. A whirling snowflake, borne in on a sudden gust of wind, landed on her arm, and the prick of cold startled her upright. Even though she was probably dead.
Apparently not dead, she amended as the snowflake melted in the heat of the fire. It was a rather nice thought. She stood, and was pleasantly surprised when her legs held up under her. So far, so good.
Then she remembered – Hans pulling away, contempt twisting his handsome features. You won't get away with this and – I already have.
He had left, because he was planning to – planning to––
Hurt my sister.
"Elsa," she breathed, eyes widening. She had to get to her. Had to stop Hans. She started for the door and slipped on a layer of ice that hadn't been there a second ago. Her hands flew out and she only just caught herself on the doorframe, heart stuttering.
Huh. The open window must have blown more snow in than she'd thought.
She made it across the room without much more trouble, but nearly fell head-over-heels down the stairs when a patch of ice appeared there, too. This was a bit too far from the window to blame it on that, so she decided it had to have been there from before. Hadn't Hans said – or no, surely Elsa had been in the castle––
Maybe it meant her sister was still alive.
Does the spell die when she does? He thought it did––
There was still a chance, then.
Anna took the stairs at a run, pelting down them and almost slamming into the suit of armor there (a familiar hazard, the source of many bruises and scrapes as a child). The entrance hall was getting colder, snow blown in from outside swirling in a draft of chill air. There were voices coming from down the hall. She recognized the wheezy one as the old Duke of Weselton, and the other, Hans.
They're probably not talking about me, she told herself as she edged over towards the door that led into the council room.
The Duke's voice sounded out loud and clear, his irritable tones echoing in the hall. "In light of the princess's recent death at the hands of her sister, we have much to discuss with regards to the future of Arendelle. Weselton will be happy to provide assistance in return for a substantial increase in trade exports."
Anna bit her lip, straining to hear him over the persistent howl of the wind. It was a real struggle to not burst in and wave in their faces, hi, hello, I'm very much not dead right now, nice to see you all doing so well.
"We will provide Princess Anna with the very best funeral this kingdom can afford." That was Hans, damn his self-assured smoothness. "As for the sorceress––"
Anna strained her ears, desperate to catch his next words. (Elsa was okay. Elsa had to be okay.)
"We will leave her body for the wolves."
"A wise decision, your highness," someone murmured. Anna blinked, disoriented, and felt her knees wobble. For an instant, the words failed to penetrate.
No.
She might have said it aloud, a single syllable weighted with disbelief and horror. It couldn't have been true – Elsa couldn't be––
"It is with a heavy heart that I take up the crown and kingship of Arendelle," Hans continued. "But I shall strive to do the best I can for the people of this land.
Sympathetic murmurs from within. Anna clenched her fists, mind a whirling blank, heart pounding so loudly she was sure everyone in the next room could hear it. Ice crept over the toes of her shoes, glittering in the flickering light of the lamps. She didn't feel a thing.
Elsa was dead.
He could be lying. He thought you were dead, too – but Hans wouldn't have returned and taken up the crown if he hadn't been completely sure that Elsa was no longer able to stop him.
Elsa was dead.
Footsteps approached from the other side of the door and she cast about frantically for a hiding place, backing away. There was nothing in the wide open entrance hall, so she ducked back behind the door that (hopefully) opened outwards and pressed herself to the wood, hoping that when they all came out no one would think to close the door behind them. It also put her even closer to what was going on in there, with her ear shoved painfully close to the crack between the door and the wall.
Someone's hand was on the handle. Anna could feel it turning – and there was no way they wouldn't notice her, this was such a stupid hiding place––
"If you'll allow us to speak in private, Prince Hans?"
"Of course, my lady."
Hans emerged from the council room, bowing low to someone before turning on his heel and striding for the outside door. Anna followed, avoiding the icy patches on the floor. It was a bit far for them to have blown in from outside, but she payed no attention to that, eyes fixed on the prince's back.
The gates creaked open under Hans' fingers. She made to slip out after him and lost her footing on a sheet of ice that had formed in the open doorway. He whirled, eyes wide, and froze.
"Elsa?" he breathed, hand going to the hilt of his sword. Anna scrambled to her feet, clenching her fists.
"Got the wrong sister again," she spat. "Someone's got pretty bad luck, huh?"
"Anna. You're – alive?" He frowned, and she took a step closer, rage making her fearless.
"Oh, yeah, I'm alive. What do you plan to do now, Hans? Wanna go back in and tell them all oops, I was kidding about the princess dying? Or are you going to go ahead with whatever plan you've got?"
"It doesn't have to be this way." Hans spread his hands, a look of falsely conciliatory kindness in his eyes. "It's a shame about your sister, but I only did what I thought was right, can't you see?" His eyes widened in a mockery of innocence. "We can rebuild Arendelle together – just work with me here, Anna––"
"As if I would work with a murderer." Anna crossed the distance between them with a single motion, hand blurring towards his face. There was a sharp crack as the two met. He jerked his head back, a red mark rising on his cheek, rage distorting his features with alarming swiftness.
"I already killed your sister," he hissed, drawing his sword with a rasp of steel and a smile that looked more like a snarl. "And I killed you once – what makes you think I can't do it again?"
Anna abruptly remembered that she was unarmed and quite alone.
"I'll scream," she warned. She glanced at the door that led back inside – too far to run for.
"Go ahead. No one will come." Hans advanced on her, face a mask of determined anger. Anna stumbled backwards, foot catching on a patch of ice and spilling her to the ground. His sword flashed as he raised it high.
This was it. She was going to die. (Again.)
There was pressure building behind her temples, like an oncoming headache, but cold. Everything seemed to be moving so slowly – Hans' sword tracing a glittering arc through the air as it swung down. She instinctively raised a hand (as though that would do anything against a sword) and closed her eyes.
The next thing she heard was the unmistakable crackle of ice forming.
What...?
Her eyes flew open. Hans was backing away from a rapidly forming sheet of ice. Shards of translucent blue thrust up from the ground, spiking towards him, and he looked up at Anna. Their eyes met.
"You're – you're the same as your sister," he gasped. "All this time..."
"No," she protested, trying to stand on the treacherous ground. This wasn't her. It couldn't be her, she had never had any powers. "No, I'm not, I don't know what––"
She raised a hand to regain her balance and a glittering spear sprang from thin air, hurtling towards Hans' chest. He was too slow to dodge it entirely; it clipped his shoulder as it flew past him to shatter against the wall, sending him staggering backwards.
Right into the path of a massive load of ice and snow that fell from the sky, crushing him soundlessly.
Anna screamed, the sound sharp and bright in the frozen air.
.❅.
The nobles emerged from the gates within seconds, clutching furred cloaks to themselves, breath fogging before them. Anna caught the surprise on their faces as they looked back and forth between at her and Hans.
"Queen Elsa?" someone asked, and Anna flinched.
"Um. The other one?" She hadn't thought the white hair made her look that much like her sister, but this was twice in a row. "There was a little bit of an – accident." Yeah. An accident. As in, she had accidentally frozen him.
I don't have the curse. I don't. There's no way––
(Oh, come on. Even you aren't that good at lying to yourself.)
"Is he dead?" one of the noblewomen asked, narrowing her eyes at the prince, who was crumpled against the wall and buried under a pile of ice. And also distinctly motionless, not to mention the fact that Anna was pretty sure that was blood on the snow. (She found she didn't care nearly as much as she thought she should have.)
"I think so?"
"Princess Anna!" The Duke of Weselton shouldered his way to the front of the group, eyes wide with disbelief. "You are alive! The prince said – and is that––" His eyes fasted on the still body of said prince and nearly bugged out. He extended a single, trembling finger. "Is he dead?"
Anna swallowed, recalling the horror on his face after Elsa's breakdown in the ballroom, that same finger extended with a whisper of sorcery. The eventual she must be stopped. Her sister's body, still out there in the storm.
"Yes," she finally said, and was very proud of the way her voice did not tremble. "He's – yeah, he's pretty dead, I think. I think an ice sheet fell from the roof onto him while he was threatening to decapitate me for not dying when he tried to kill me the first time?"
The resulting gasps of shock were very satisfying. It also did a lot to distract from the fact that it looked like she had killed Hans – because who could fault something done in self defense against a murderer?
"The prince tried to kill me," she repeated, loud and clear. "Twice. When I confronted him about it, he – well, this happened."
The Duke looked like he wanted to yell, but Anna fixed her gaze on the noblewoman who had spoken before, whose face was hidden by the collar of her wrapping but for the grey eyes peeking out above the thick cloth. (All she needed was someone on her side, and surely the others would follow.) Their eyes met, and the noblewoman's crinkled reassuringly.
Anna took a deep breath. How would Elsa handle this?
"Hans was a traitor and a murderer. We will return his body to the Southern Isles for his family to deal with, and my sister––" Her voice died as it hit her all over again. Elsa was no longer her sister locked behind a closed door, no longer a stranger on the throne, only gone.
(Alone. She was alone.)
She swallowed, fighting for a breath of air that felt too thin.
The noblewoman stepped forward, pulling back her hood. This close, Anna could see that she was little older than Elsa was (had been), with honey-brown skin, rich dark hair that curled over her shoulders, and kind eyes.
"Then you are the queen now," she said quietly, and went down on one knee. Anna froze.
One by one, the nobles dropped to their knees, some bowing their heads in respect, others meeting her eyes as she looked from one to another in disbelief. Why were they kneeling to her? That wasn't – that wasn't right.
"We are yours to command, Princess."
She wavered, feeling suddenly as though the world had spun off-kilter. This was wrong. She couldn't be queen, that was – that was Elsa's job.
And Elsa was gone.
That's it. You're the last one. Why else would they look to you, unless there was no one else?
The spare becomes the heir because there is no one else. That's how it works.
(So don't abandon them like their last queen did.)
"The first––" Her voice broke, trailing off to a squeak. She stopped and cleared her throat, flushing. "The first thing we'll do," she continued in a stronger voice, "is see to providing relief for those affected by the weather. We'll have to wait until this blows over – I'm sure it will – but I don't want anyone getting... needlessly harmed?"
There. That sounded vaguely queen-like. Hopefully.
"You may rise?" she added, beating back the and find someone else for the job before I screw this up, too that rose in her throat.
To her relief, the nobles stood, gathering their robes one by one and bowing low to her before hurrying back through the gates. She watched them scurry off like a flock of brown-clothed hens, and jerked with surprise when someone tugged on her sleeve.
"You did a very good job." It was the noblewoman from earlier. She offered Anna a comforting smile. "I'm Rivta, by the way. Daughter of the Lady Maria of the western coast."
Anna immediately decided that she liked this woman. "Pleased to meet you." She hesitated, unsure how to proceed – there was something she had heard about going through doors in order of rank, unless that was only for formal occasions, in which case – this queen thing was going to give her a serious headache before long.
Rivta must have sensed her quandary, because she offered her arm to Anna with a small smile. "Shall we?" she asked, indicating the gates with one slim hand.
.❅.
Anna glared at her reflection in the mirror and shifted in her seat, earning a sharp tsk from the girl standing behind her. Olena, her butler-in-training (not a maid, as she insisted, because butlers got snappier suits), was halfway through arranging Anna's hair into an intricate braid.
"Try to stop moving, your majesty." She spoke with a lilting accent, dark blue eyes narrowed with concentration. "Coronations are a big deal, or so I've heard."
Anna had always hated just sitting there instead of talking to whoever happened to be next to her. She cast about for something to say, and settled on, "What do the people say about my sister now, Olena?" Seeing as she was the one who had to step in and fill that position, after all.
Her butler-in-training frowned, fair brow crinkling with concern. "Your majesty, surely no one––"
Anna turned in her chair, pulling slightly away from Olena's hands, which were busy plaiting her hair into three fine braids. "If you're going to say that they're not saying anything at all, you know that I know that's not true."
"Yes, your majesty." Olena inclined her head. Anna winced, suddenly uncomfortable.
"And, um, you can... call me Anna? Just Anna. Not, like... your majesty or anything." Because that had been her sister, and Anna wasn't... ever going to really be queen, not the way Elsa had been intended to be.
She caught Olena's almost-sad smile in the mirror as she turned back. "You're still the queen, no matter what I call you."
"I know that." What had she been talking about? Olena was ridiculously good at derailing conversations – oh yeah. "Do the townspeople understand why Elsa did what she did, at least?"
Olena's hands resumed their motion, tugging Anna's stubborn hair back sharply. "They mostly mutter about the winter weather we're still having – wonder why it didn't disappear as soon as Elsa did."
Anna frowned, considering this. "Why should it?"
"There's an old superstition regarding sorcery, you see – that the spell dies with the caster." She tied off Anna's hair with a white ribbon and spun her around so she could see it in the mirror. "Look good?"
"Yeah." Anna worried at her lip with her teeth, considering this. "So... the storm. It should've gone away by now?" Now that she thought about it––
"I have no experience with magic, myself."
"No, no, it makes sense – I think you're right, there was another––" Whoops, better not mention the talking snowman, that might not go over too well. "One of her spells, at least, is gone. That I know of."
If Olena was curious, she gave no outward sign of it. She turned to begin packing up her comb and ribbons, leaving Anna to her own thoughts, which were getting more and more muddled.
Elsa was dead, there was no doubt about that. She had watched the casket as it was lowered into the earth, had been there. Olaf was nothing more than a pile of snowmelt by now. If Elsa was still alive, he would be too. Which meant that the spell did die when the caster did. But the storm was still going as strong as ever, dumping more and more snow on the town with every passing day. Had Elsa affected the nearby weather that drastically?
Even if she did, this should have at least shown signs of weakening by now, right?
She did wonder if there was anything she could do. Patches of ice had continued to appear throughout the castle, attributed mostly to mysteriously opened windows. She was pretty sure no one suspected her, but it would probably be wise to keep it under wraps that she had inherited a little more than a throne from her sister.
Which reminded her...
"I'll be back," she said abruptly, hopping down off the chair and scooping up a bundle she had stowed under her bed. Olena frowned.
"You won't be late to your own coronation, will you?" she asked as Anna made her way to the door, holding her head carefully to keep her braid intact.
"Of course not." She waved a careless hand and nearly bumped into the doorframe on her way out. "I just... have to do something first. See you there."
.❅.
Elsa's portrait still hung in the same long, dark hall as that of their parents' – it seemed that Hans hadn't gotten around to taking it down before his untimely demise. Anna tiptoed across the tiled floor, hesitant to make any sort of noise amid the floating dust and hanging black cloth.
She paused by the portrait already shrouded with the same dark cloth she carried rolled up under her arm. (Another funeral, two empty coffins lowered into the earth and no one by her side. Funny how some things never changed.)
Anna tore her eyes away and climbed up onto the bench pushed against the wall next to Elsa's portrait. This close, she was at eye level with Elsa, her sister's blue eyes fixed on some point past Anna's shoulder. Even as Anna moved, leaning precariously out to toss the other end of the cloth over the far corner of the frame. she could never manage to move in a way that brought her into Elsa's line of sight.
Before she had time to contemplate the inherent symbolism of that, she overbalanced and nearly faceplanted into the inlayed marble floor.
Grumbling, she clambered to her feet, dusting herself off. She could practically hear Olena – milady, I told you that you'd need my help! – but she'd wanted to do this herself.
Not sure what I thought it'd do, she mused, and the thought might have been annoyed if it wasn't so resigned. It's not like she sees me even now, huh?
Whoever had painted this had capture a remarkable likeness of the Queen – hair curled over her shoulder in a single braid, hands folded quietly in her lap, gaze fixed on the invisible distance. (Anna realized with a pang of jealousy that the artist must have been allowed into Elsa's quarters shortly before the coronation ceremony, to have this done in time for that.) She tugged on a curl of her own hair, dyed auburn at Rivta's suggestion – she looked more familiar this way, and less like Elsa. The townspeople needed to move on, rebuild in the wake of the destruction wrought by Elsa's sorcery. The town had had enough of this ice magic stuff, thank you very much.
Unfortunately, nothing was ever that simple.
Here, in the quiet, Anna knew there should have been nothing – all the windows were shut tight, the double doors kept closed. But there was snow drifting in the corners, starbursts of ice extending from where she had walked in.
It was harder to lie to herself when she was alone.
How did you manage to hide for so long, Elsa?
She was starting to think that even if she knew, it was far too late to take refuge behind a locked door.
.❅.
Anna was crowned queen of Arendelle in a quiet, private ceremony that couldn't have been more different from the festivity surrounding her sister's coronation. She held the scepter and orb at arm's length, keeping her hands perfectly still, and met Rivta's eyes. The noblewoman was in the second row with a dark brown cloak wrapped around her, lips moving in silent encouragement.
No one smiled as she turned and set the objects back down on the cushion. All she got was a half-hearted cheer, but even that was swiftly muted by the cold air in the chapel.
Everyone looked so afraid.
She almost wanted to apologize – that they had been through so much, and a good deal of it Anna's fault. (It was far from over, too.)
Instead, she smiled and bowed to her subjects, surprising herself when she kept her balance and didn't fall flat on her face.
Above her head, the rafters were lined with creeping frost, ice enveloping every beam. No one looked up, but she could feel the temperature dropping. Her hands shook, and she buried them in her sleeves.
Control it.
.❅.
"Someone to see you, your majesty." Olena bowed deeply, doffing her black hat and sweeping the floor with it as the door opened. Anna turned, expecting to see some duchess or other. Her jaw nearly hit the floor when she recognized the man standing there.
"So, uh, I hear you're queen now?"
"Kristoff!" Anna dropped the papers she'd been looking at and hurtled across the room, throwing her arms around him. "Where have you been? Where's Sven?"
Kristoff shrugged, extricating himself. He looked out of place in the ornate study; his threadbare coat and scuffed boots were dull against the patterned carpet. The lack of a reindeer at his side made him look even stranger. He looked about as uncomfortable as Anna had been feeling for the past day or so, and that more than anything made her grin and pull him further into the room.
"I've been – around," he muttered. "Your butler wouldn't let me bring Sven in, he's out in the hall. So you're all right, then?"
"Yeah?" She frowned, then remembered. "Oh, right! Yeah, I'm fine. Not dead or anything." She wiggled her fingers in his face, grinning.
"That's good."
She nodded. "Was there something you came about, or were you just making sure I was alive and unfrozen?"
Kristoff shrugged again.
"Nice of you to drop by, anyways."
"Uh huh." He looked around the room, taking in the roaring fire and the sloppy piles of papers strewn all across her desk. "Looks like you're having fun. It's a bit cold in here, though."
"Is it?" She clasped her hands behind her back, hoping it looked regal; in reality, she was struggling to keep from trembling. Why did this always have to happen at such inconvenient times? (It's fine. Stop freaking out and it'll go away.)
"Are you okay?" he asked, peering at her face. She took a step closer to the fire, hoping that the inevitable ice would melt before he could see it.
"Fine!" she assured him, perhaps a little too brightly. He was getting suspicious, that was bad. "L-look, it's a bad – I mean, I've got a lot of papers – work – paperwork? And I'd love it if you could stay here for a little while if you want and Olena can help you find rooms." She finished all in a rush, pasting a grin onto her face that didn't feel at all convincing.
He opened his mouth, clearly ready to tell her that he didn't need lodging, that he had just been on his way out, but Anna plunged on ahead.
"I mean, in gratitude for your help before, and 'cause I sorta helped wreck your sled, how about you – stay for a bit?" It was dumb, he would notice that there was something wrong, there was no way he wouldn't notice, but – she needed someone to not call her queen, and she needed someone who would actually slap her in the face if she went all ice-crazy and started freezing people. And Kristoff hadn't treated her with much deference before she was queen, so why whould that change now?
"Okay." Kristoff patted her shoulder, looking more concerned than ever. "I'll just... go ask your butler for a room, then." One last, confused look, and then he clumped out.
Anna leaned against the mantle on suddenly shaky legs, letting out a long sigh of relief.
"I don't know how I'm going to do this queen thing," she told the closed doors. "I just... I don't know."
.❅.
"So there's me, you, the Countess of Redavia, the two Ladies Northern, and the Duke of Weselton––" Anna ticked the council members off one by one on her fingers, brow furrowed with concentration.
"No, no, the Duke fled after your coronation." Rivta tugged on a pair of gloves, flexing her fingers as the two of them made their way down to the council room for Anna's first session as queen. "Seems he was working with Hans somehow. But the other foreign dignitaries stayed until the weather clears up. Who are the others?"
Anna blinked. "The others?"
"There are four more members of the council."
"The baron..." She shook her head. "Those brothers, the ones I always forget. They're lords under my rule, right?"
"The baron is Malvin."
"And Sir Erik!" Anna grinned triumphantly. Rivta nodded. "But the others – I'm never going to be able to remember everyone. How does Els––anyone do this royalty thing?"
Rivta's face softened. "It'll get easier. I promise. Just... give it time." She tactfully refrained from pointing out that Anna didn't actually have the time to get used to ruling, not when the kingdom was in such disarray. "The other two are women."
"Duchess Igritte and – Lady Rina." She made a face. "Too many. Igritte seems nice, though."
"She'll negotiate a trade alliance with the Baron behind your back the first chance she gets, and take advantage of the fact that you won't remember Arendelle's export monopoly on their furs."
"Oh."
"Just keep an eye on everyone. I'll help you." She clasped Anna's hand in hers, offering her a small smile. "You've got this, okay?"
.❅.
Her first council meeting as queen of Arendelle was not quite a disaster, but it was certainly close.
She didn't start any wars, or lead her realm into bankruptcy. Nothing incredibly drastic or more disaster-inducing than what was already going on. Mostly, she just... sat there.
Which was the entire problem.
The nobles talked over her, leaving her to fidget awkwardly and offer half-hearted smiles every now and then. The few times she tried to speak, barely anyone listened, and those that did nodded with the distracted air of someone agreeing with a child's babbling to get them to hush.
"You just need to be more confident," Rivta offered afterwards, trying not to look worried. "Your ideas are fine."
Anna nodded, privately sure that if Elsa had been the one in that council chair, her suggestions would have been heard.
The next day was much the same – several hours spent in a stuffy little room that got colder and colder by the minute until someone finally snapped and lit the fire. There was no open window to blame the increasingly icy floor on, and Anna caught several whispered conversations while she wasn't being allowed to participate in the actual meeting.
"––it isn't getting any warmer––"
"Do you think––"
"The storm should have blown over by now––"
She cleared her throat, trying for an obtrusive sound that would get people to pay attention to her. It came out a bit weak, so she settled for actually saying, "Ahem."
Rivta turned to look at her, as did the older of the two brothers – Baron Malvin, with his grey hair and skin the same shade of dark brown as his eyes. Everyone else continued discussing the avenues of travel from Arendelle to the neighboring Redavia.
"Hi," she said loudly. "I have something to say. Remember me? The queen of Arendelle?" She reached across the table and snatched the large map from Duchess Igritte, pulling it across to her. "Instead of talking about how wide you think these not-yet-functional roads through the mountains should be, why don't we talk about something useful?"
"Such as?" Sir Erik, Malvin's younger brother (younger being relative; he had grey hair at his temples and a pronounced jowl that wobbled as he spoke), raised an eyebrow as though to say yes, child, but the adults are talking right now. He had never quite spoken to Anna with anything that could be called disrespect, but there was certainly a great deal of... dismissal. Anna couldn't help but bristle.
"Such as helping my people, perhaps? You two––" She pointed to him, then his brother, "––and the ladies Northern – you're all part of this kingdom, and under my jurisdiction, correct? So why don't you care about what's going on in this kingdom? Can we talk about that instead of what our neighbors want? With all respect to them, of course, but I think – I think the fact we're freezing is sorta important."
"And why are we still stranded here?" Igritte asked. The Duchess of the far east provinces was a hefty old woman with silver hair and dark eyes and a stubborn, willful tilt to her mouth. "This is not a natural storm."
Rivta had advised Anna to think before she spoke, and so she bit back her first thought, which was no duh it's unnatural, did the little thing where my sister blasted everything with ice tip you off? as well as her second – feel free to leave whenever you want – and settled on, "I know that, your grace. But storms all blow away sometime, right?"
"Of course they do," Rivta supplied, jumping in. "So clearly the right thing to do is wait it out – right, your majesty?"
Erik shot her a glance, opening his mouth, but the shorter of the Northern ladies, Pela, spoke before he could.
"It's a sensible suggestion. I, for one, am all for discussing anything that can help our people."
Anna nodded. "Yeah. I mean yes. Yes, it seems very sensible. So the first thing to do would be to see to helping everyone, right? I – I mean, we don't want anyone freezing." She couldn't get past the fact that she felt so dumb, speaking out like this amid these nobles who had been born and bred to do this job, while she had spent most of her life riding a bicycle built for two alone through deserted halls. But Rivta was nodding, and Malvin seemed to be on her side, and the Ladies Northern were supporting her––
"When do you think the fjord will melt?" Erik pressed, leaning forward. "This storm was supposed to stop when – I mean, we all thought––"
Yes, you all thought Hans' little stunt would get rid of all your troubles, right. How well did that work out for you? She took a deep breath before responding, because being calm was a very good thing in politics. Apparently. According to Rivta. "The priority right now should be helping our people. Is that clear?"
.❅.
"They don't take me seriously."
"Sure they do."
"Now you're being patronizing." Anna bit moodily into an apple she had snagged from the kitchens, noting that it was looking a bit wrinkled. The ongoing storm wasn't doing anything for their food supplies – maybe she'd better tell Rivta to bring it up in the next meeting.
Rivta let out a huff of laughter. "Why would I ever do that?"
"Oh, I dunno. Maybe 'cause they already take you seriously because you've been doing this forever?"
"You just lack experience. You'll gain that, and then it'll be easy."
"Uh huh."
"Really."
"They like you, you know."
Anna paused mid-bite. "What?" she asked around the apple.
"They like you." Rivta met her eyes, looking serious. "You're an easy person to like, Anna. Cheerful. Endearingly awkward. It's a thing, you know? But your council is notoriously hard to deal with, and that wasn't helped by the long silence from the royal family, and now there's me and the other foreigners here––" She spread her hands helplessly. "It's a hard situation, but you're handling it well."
"I'm endearingly awkward, you say?"
To her surprise, a faint blush appeared high on Rivta's cheeks. "It's just a – a subjective observation, you know. Don't take it personally."
.❅.
She got back to her rooms before all the pent-up stress of the day really hit her. The door had just closed when the ice exploded out from under her feet, turning her bedroom into a skating rink.
Anna sat in the middle of her bedroom floor, knees drawn up to her chest and every part of her feeling as though it was vibrating to the tune of the wind howling past the windows. It was too much. Too much.
There's no way I can do this.
The door looked so solid, closed and locked like that. She thought she might understand why someone would want to stay behind it forever, hiding from the world – no one had to watch as she lifted a hand to the ceiling, a shower of snow exploding from sharp peak where the roof met the wall. No one had to watch as she shaped it with a blast of wind, throwing fine white powder into the air.
It felt safe.
Anna closed her eyes and leaned back against the door, hand falling to her side. She slept like that, cradled by ice that felt like familiar arms around her.
.❅.
"You look terrible," Olena told her the next morning, dragging Anna to her feet and sweeping her out as if the snowdrifts in the queen's bedroom were nothing that warranted a second glance. "There's a reason we sleep in the bed, Anna."
"Yeah," the queen of Arendelle agreed, rubbing her eyes and almost falling into the wall. "Whazzat?"
"You're hopeless," the butler-in-training groaned, throwing a blue dress at her and grabbing a broom to sweep up the snow.
By the time Anna made her way downstairs, she was a bit more awake. Rivta took one look at her and shook her head.
"Did you not sleep well? You look––"
"Terrible, so I've heard." Anna yawned into her hand. "What's up today? More illicit trading deals with our own districts?"
"There isn't a council meeting today."
"Great! I can – sleep more, or––" Queens didn't take naps, right. "I probably shouldn't." What was a smart thing for a queen to do, then? (Besides not sleep on sheets of ice, for starters.) "Do you think going out there and actually seeing how the town is doing would be a good idea?"
"Sounds good," Rivta said, smiling as though that was exactly what she had been looking for.
.❅.
The captain of the royal guard was a tall, muscular woman with tawny skin who introduced herself as Yvette. Anna felt very small against her bulk, but she seemed kind enough, if a bit solemn.
They made a circuit of the town, checking in on various guard stations set up around the perimeter. The fjord, easily visible from almost anywhere in the town, dominated the scene – white and vast and frozen solid.
"Has anyone been seriously hurt?" she asked Yvette as they paused in the shade of a tall building. "Or like – died?"
The captain considered this, readjusting her cloak. "Three deaths of cold, and a few minor injuries from falling on ice and the like. If this keeps up much longer, we might be looking at a riot."
"Why's that?"
"Haven't you noticed, your majesty? We can't exactly grow food in the snow, and our stores won't last much longer – this winter has killed our harvest as it is." She strode off down the street, booted feet sure on the icy cobblestones. "Shall we go down to the docks, majesty?"
Anna hurried after her. Every now and then, she caught a glimpse of pale, frightened faces peering out from behind curtains; some of them darted back into hiding as soon as she looked, but others watched her until she passed, eyes boring into her back. You're not doing enough to fix this problem, they seemed to say.
"What if winter doesn't lift?" she asked once she caught up to Yvette. "What'll happen then?"
Yvette did not look back at her, honey-brown eyes fixed on the iced-over steps they were descending. "We should all pray that that will never happen, majesty."
.❅.
"You look tired," Rivta said as they made their way back up to the castle, Yvette having bowed out and retired to the closest guardroom after escorting them halfway there. The sun was setting somewhere behind the thick clouds that still obscured the sky – the only sign was that the streets were now dark enough that Anna was having trouble seeing. Or maybe that was just a side effect of the exhaustion.
"I'm fine," Anna replied automatically. (Didn't want anyone to worry.) The ground felt a bit unsteady under her feet, of course, but that was probably normal.
"You sure?" Rivta stopped, reaching out to steady Anna, who hadn't even realized that she was wobbling a bit with every step she took. "You've been yawning all day, I think you need to go lie down––"
"I'm fine," she insisted – or tried to insist, and was choked off halfway through by a massive yawn. Her body felt so heavy. She just needed to get up to the castle...
She felt herself pitching forward and barely caught her balance by grabbing Rivta's shoulders. It was getting darker, the sun nearly gone, and it was so cold.
"Anna?"
She shook her head. "I'll be okay. Just – give me a second." Why was it so cold?
The pressure was back, building in her head, cold and sharp and trying to get out. She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to will it back, no you can't do this right now. Rivta was saying something – she sounded worried.
It's okay, she managed to think before the air crystallized around her with an audible snap, shards of ice pattering against the pavement. She panicked, eyes flying open, and her feet slid out from underneath her, depositing her with a bump onto a sheet of perfectly smooth ice that had sprung into existence beneath her.
"Wonderful," she mumbled, rubbing her eyes. "Just... wonderful."
Rivta knelt beside her, eyes wide.
"Sorry," Anna added. "Didn't mean to freeze that."
Rivta helped her stand, steadied her, let Anna lean on her all the way up to the gates. Wordlessly, she led Anna up to her room, where she busied herself striking tinder and flint until smoke curled up from the wood stacked in the hearth. Anna sat on the edge of her bed, watching her.
"Is this something new?" Rivta finally asked, turning and regarding her. Anna nodded. "Okay. Do you often freeze entire streets, or...?"
Anna shrugged. Thinking was like wading through thick, sucking mud – far too much effort at the moment. (She really should have gotten some real sleep last night.) "S'like... I dunno, when I'm tired? Or annoyed? Like what Elsa did, 'cept... not, like, freezing a kingdom?"
"So you should get more sleep."
"Should."
"C'mon." Rivta pushed Anna back into the bed and pulled the blankets up over her, tucking her in. "Sleep is always good when you have a realm to rule. Promise me you'll try to take care of yourself?"
Anna nodded, eyelids drooping.
"That's my queen." Rivta leaned down and kissed her softly on the cheek, then slid down off the bed as if to leave. Anna's hand snaked out from beneath the pile of blankets and fastened around her wrist.
"Stay?" she mumbled sleepily. Rivta smiled and sat back down, stroking Anna's hair gently.
"Sleep, Anna. I'm right here."
.❅.
Anna woke alone and stole down to the cloistered graveyard. The sky to the east was light, the only sign that the sun was rising behind the thick clouds. Everything was dusted with a thin layer of snow that crunched under her boots, the only sound in the muffled silence.
She paused by the closest grave, then cleared her throat awkwardly.
"So. How're you doing?"
Silence. Anna scuffed the toe of her boot through the snow, frowning down at the mute gravestone.
"Yeah, I've gone crazy. Talking to a piece of stone? This is great. Someone's gonna come out and see me babbling and tell everyone the queen of Arendelle's gone insane––"
Keeping up with a great family tradition there, huh? No one would be surprised, I think.
She sat down, crossing her legs and ignoring the snow that soaked through her dress within seconds. "It'd be great if you could talk back, of course," she told Elsa's grave. "Rivta's been great, but I don't want to bother her any more than I have to – and Kristoff wouldn't understand – and you'd get the whole ice-magic thing that's going on, but you're sorta... dead."
There was no response, of course. Anna shook her head.
"I don't see how this is different from the way things were before," she muttered. "You're still not talking to me."
(Closed door, closed grave – both of them seemed pretty final from where she was sitting.)
She leaned forward and dusted snow off of Elsa's name, fingers lingering on the stone until she could feel the chill seeping in through her gloves.
.❅.
"I will not stand for this!" Igritte slammed her fist down on the table, face a storm cloud of anger. "The longer we wait, the more my own council back home will harass me about our trading agreement with Arendelle – and Arendelle has not given me anything!"
Anna froze. "Your grace, I'm sure––"
"You're not sure of anything," Igritte snarled. "You're a child with even less ruling experience than your sister. I demand––"
"You are in no position to be making demands of the queen," Rivta snapped, leaning across the table. The other council members had drawn back in their seats, distancing themselves from the duchess' formidable temper.
"Nor do you have the right to speak for her! Don't think we don't all know what you're doing, you sly little snake – your mother and her constant illness have made you far too used to ruling in the name of others, hasn't it?" Igritte held up a hand, forestalling Rivta's retort. "No, no, Rivta, I want to hear what the queen has to say for herself."
Anna's eyes darted from Igritte's narrowed eyes to the rising flush on Rivta's cheeks. What had the duchess meant by that? "I – don't you think that a trade agreement is a bit premature? Or - y'know, useless?"
"And what do you mean by that?" the Lady Rina supplied as the Duchess' mouth worked silently, apparently trying to wrap her mind around Anna's insolence. Rina was one of the council members who had kept carefully neutral through all this, but whenever she and Anna made eye contact, she would smile, so she couldn't be that bad. Anna took a deep breath.
"Well, the fjord's a bit frozen, so that knocks out our main trading place right off." Even she knew that the only reason Arendelle had reached its status as the richest kingdom in the area was only due to the commerce that flowed in and out of its ports – commerce that had waned somewhat while the gates had been closed, and which was at a dead stop now that said ports were solid ice. "The safety of the people of Arendelle should be our top priority."
"So you keep saying," Erik cut in, speaking for the first time. "Over and over, in fact. What have you done to help with that, though?"
"Well, maybe if you stopped wasting my time," Anna snapped, and was gratified by the way his eyes widened at her sharpness. "I could get more done if you weren't determined to trip me up at every turn."
Malvin spoke from beside his brother. "The only way to really help our people is to stop this winter for good."
"Yes, we know," Igritte said caustically. "Any bright ideas for how that could be done, then?"
"It has a cause," Pela said suddenly from the end of the table. The olive-skinned woman, who rarely spoke at these meetings, had a thoughtful look on her face. "Clearly a magical cause, considering how it began. So if it could be cut off at the source..."
"We already did that," Malvin replied, adding a hasty, "my apologies, your majesty."
Anna shook her head. "No, no, that's fine – Lady Pela, what-"
At the other end of the table, Rina frowned, leaning forward. "Pela. Are you suggesting that there's another source?"
"Don't you think there must be? We sent scouts to the North Mountain, and the fortress your sister built there is gone – this storm should be as well. This is the work of someone else."
"Another sorceress?" Erik muttered. "Heaven help us all."
Anna fought to keep her hands steady, trying to ignore the way her heart picked up at that. Another sorceress. If there was even a possibility––
Do me a favor and don't look too closely at me, okay?
.❅.
"It's not true." Rivta caught Anna's sleeve with one hand as the other council members filed out. She faced Anna imploringly, eyes wide and earnest. "I'm not trying to manipulate you or anything, I would never – the Duchess is wrong."
"Was what Igritte said about your mother true?"
"I – yes, my mother hasn't been well for a long time, but I administrate in her place with her full consent." She let out a nervous laugh. "She's just bitter that she's only a duchess and my mother is a grand duchess."
"Yeah?"
"I wouldn't try to force you into anything you didn't want, Anna."
Anna closed her eyes, then: "I know that." She felt Rivta slump with relief, and wondered why she seemed to care so much. "Still, she's right about one thing – I need to stop depending on you to get my opinions heard in the council, and I need to do something."
"What do you think––" Rivta trailed off as Anna started for the far stairs, the ones that led up to the walltop. Her brow furrowed with concern. "Do you have something in mind?"
"Elsa said she couldn't unfreeze us," Anna muttered, "but don't you think there's something we've missed? Magic started this winter, so magic must be able to stop it, too."
.❅.
The sky stretched wide and pale above them, snowflakes swirling down and dusting the walltops white. Anna stared up, wondering what she should do. Below them, there was distant movement in the streets, tiny people wielding tiny shovels against the massive drifts of snow.
"This was a dumb idea," she muttered.
"What was a dumb idea?" Kristoff's head popped up over the top of the staircase. Anna started with surprise. In the courtyard two stories down, Sven trotted into view, letting out a snort. "You're not planning on doing something stupid, right?"
"Not anymore," she started to say, but Ritva laid a hand on her arm.
"Just try it."
"What, with Kristoff here?"
"Whoa, what?" The ice seller clomped up the last few steps and sat down on the battlement, folding his arms. "Nope. Uh uh. Now you're definitely not getting me to go anywhere."
Anna glared at Rivta. "I don't even think it'll work. I don't know the first thing about – you know." And the only one who would, she refrained from adding, is down in the graveyard because she lost control.
(Then why'd you come up here, if you're so afraid of failing? I thought you had decided to finally do something.)
"I believe in you, Anna."
Anna swallowed, remembering when she had said much the same thing to Elsa – sure you can, I know you can. It seemed terribly unhelpful now that someone else was saying it to her.
Painfully aware of Kristoff and Rivta's eyes on her, she raised one hand, pointing straight up at the swirling clouds above. Immediately, they began to spin faster, the underside glowing a strange blue, like shadows on fresh snow. Kristoff sucked in a surprised breath.
Go away, she told the clouds, feeling very stupid. Blow off and... and dump snow somewhere else.
A fat flake landed splat on her nose, and she brushed it off with a frustrated noise. This should be working. Elsa had managed to build a castle, surely her considerably-less-talented sister could manage to call up a little wind.
The clouds weren't moving.
Helpless anger rose within her, throbbing in her chest. The wind picked up. She could barely see Rivta through the whirling flakes, a wall of white descending on the town––
Large hands fastened around hers, and Kristoff's face was suddenly very close to hers. He was yelling something, but she could barely hear him over the wind.
"––making it worse!"
It was like a bolt of lightning to the chest, like the cold of Elsa's blow. Anna jerked away from him, tearing her hands free. The gale died down, the clouds above ceased their churning.
She turned and ran down the stairs.
.❅.
It was still snowing, thin icy needles swirling in the wind and stinging Anna's cheeks like tears as she stumbled through the dead garden, ignoring Kristoff's cries of concern. She fell to her knees beside Elsa's grave, the ground beneath her freezing to a sheet of smooth blue ice the instant she touched it.
"Take it back," she whispered, clenching her fists. "I don't know how to deal with this, Elsa, I don't want it––"
(The storm was still raging. Why? Elsa was dead, Elsa was gone, and the ice should have melted by now.)
She struck the frozen earth with her closed fist, shards of ice flying. "Come back!" she yelled, voice breaking. "You can't close your door again, come back out, you have to––"
The wind tore past her, ripping her cloak from her shoulders and sending it spiraling into the mist. Kristoff was beside her, hands on her shoulders, deep voice vibrating through her. She couldn't hear him over the noise of the storm.
He carried her back inside and handed her a mug of something that steamed. Rivta, who had been hovering behind her making concerned noises, wrapped a blanket around her. Anna clutched the mug to her chest and ignored the way it burned her fingers. She felt the the warmth seep out of it, ice crackling up over the rim and down the handle.
Kristoff didn't look surprised, only faintly worried. "Are you going to be okay?"
She considered nodding, but couldn't quite lie to him. "I don't know."
"That's fine."
He hesitated, then held out a hand. She gave him the frozen cup, watched as he turned it over in his hands. Behind her, Rivta ran a comforting hand down her back.
"Do you want to talk about it?" she whispered.
Anna shook her head and clutched the blanket tighter.
Kristoff sank down next to her, breath misting in front of his face as he sighed. "Are you up to the castle-building level yet? 'Cause I would love a castle made out of ice." She managed a half-hearted laugh, and he brightened. "Might be easier to keep clean than this place – at least the puddles would blend in?"
"Sure they would."
"Have you considered going back to the trolls?" he added. Anna shrugged, staring into the fire, eyelids suddenly heavy.
"And get another doom-and-death prophecy about frozen hearts? I'm fine. There's nothing wrong with me except the fact that I can apparently freeze stuff now."
"Huh." Kristoff banged the mug against the hearth, scattering shards of ice. "Yeah, you sure can. I didn't know it worked that way."
"Neither did I." She leaned back against Rivta, closing her eyes. "Figures, though, 'cause this whole queen thing is hard enough as it is – why make it any easier?"
.❅.
Following the failed storm-banishing incident, there seemed to an unspoken agreement between Rivta and Kristoff to never leave Anna by herself, lest she fall apart or freeze the Duchess or something else along those lines. Kristoff managed to pop up around the palace in the most inexplicable places, and Rivta took to sleeping in Anna's room; the comforting weight of someone beside her, even asleep, did much to ward off Anna's nightmares of blue ice creeping up her fingers, driving the warmth from her skin.
Sometimes, it wasn't enough.
The days dragged on, with Anna alternating between sessions in the dusty council room with increasingly belligerent nobles and tours around her dying city. At night, she would wake screaming to a room wreathed in ice, frozen spires hanging upside down from the ceiling, her blankets crackling with frost every time she moved.
Anna never felt the cold, but Rivta's shivers often woke her, with her teeth chattering and fingers turning blue as she slid out of the bed to light the fire again. Anna would watch her, sick to her stomach with guilt and anger, hating whatever coursed through her veins that give her this power.
One night, a blizzard howled through her room, wild wind tearing at her blankets and nightclothes. When Rivta reached out to calm her down, she jerked away, terrified by the sudden flash of ice in your heart, frozen forever.
(She didn't want to hurt anybody.)
"I'm sorry," she babbled, scrunching up into a ball (maybe if she made herself small enough, she could disappear entirely). "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I––"
Rivta placed a gentle hand on her shoulder and something in her snapped, panic bubbling to the surface. She screamed, voice drowned out by the howl of the wind both indoors and outdoors, ripping her throat raw.
"What did she do to me?" she shrieked, pounding her fists into Rivta's shoulders, choking on the tears that froze on her cheeks. "What did she––"
It's a curse, they were right, I'm never going to be free.
(I don't want the crown, take it back, I want my sister, I would settle for a locked door and knowing she was alive I wouldn't care I promise I just want it back)
There was ice blossoming across the headboard, crystalline blooms traced in white frost. Anna shied away from it, shuddering, and felt Rivta's arms around her, steadying her.
Anna shook her head frantically, nearly incoherent. "Get it out of me. I don't want it."
"We'll figure it out," she whispered, trembling with cold. "I promise, Anna, it'll all be fine."
"You can't," Anna managed, and "What if I hurt you?" She was shivering all of a sudden, tremors wracking her body. "It can kill, I've killed––"
She had done such a good job of not remembering, and now all she could see was a splash of red blood against the snow, a body crumpled against the wall. It didn't matter what Hans had or hadn't done, even Elsa hadn't managed to kill anyone.
"That's not your fault."
Anna blinked back a fresh wave of tears, sniffling. "It is."
"No." Rivta grasped her by the shoulders, shaking her softly. "It is not. You've been doing a wonderful job as queen. No one expects you to be able to fix everything single-handedly, so you shouldn't expect that of yourself, okay?"
Anna's throat tightened as she nodded, tears blurring her vision. She slumped against Rivta, sobbing, and felt fingers twine through her hair, soothing and warm.
She fell asleep in Rivta's arms, tear tracks drying on her face, exhausted and finally something like empty.
.❅.
"We need to solve the food problem," Malvin said at the next council meeting, steepling his dark hands in front of his face. "A few more days and there will be nothing left in our storehouses."
"Considering the circumstances," Igritte cut in dryly, "I think you can upgrade this to a crisis."
Malvin inclined his head.
"The affected area only extends as far west as the mountains," Rivta pointed out. Anna sat up a little straighter in her chair.
"So we – if the Countess could––" The seat for the emissary from their neighboring country was noticeably empty, as it had been for most of these meetings. She turned on Rina. "Or the Lady could... send in emergency supplies, just for as long as it takes Arendelle to recover?"
"With the understanding that Arendelle would be in our debt for the value of anything we can get in over the ice," Rina mused. "I think that might be satisfactory."
Anna smiled at him. "Thanks – thank you, my lady." She turned on her two nearest lieges, Pela and her cousin. "Could you see to it that everything goes as smoothly as possible?" If she remembered correctly, the fastest route overland from the Lady's realm was through the part of Arendelle's western reaches overseen by these two.
"It would be my pleasure, your majesty," Pela replied. "We will see to it that relief reaches the town as soon as possible."
.❅.
"Of course, it doesn't matter what we do to get the right weather back if we don't have the supplies to continue to do well." Anna paced back and forth across her bedroom carpet, the floor of her room miraculously clear of ice. Rivta perched on the edge of her bed, swinging her feet. "We'll need time to recover, too – our harvest will have been entirely ruined, won't it? If this doesn't lift before real winter comes, we'll be in for several more months of this with perfectly natural causes, and we'll still be starving––"
"Unless someone decides to help out." Rivta's dark eyes tracked Anna's movements across the room. "Which Lady Rina and Pela did today."
"Only for as long as the winter lasts, no doubt." Anna snorted. "She and the other one – her cousin? – they're quiet, but they wouldn't have agreed to help if they hadn't thought they could get something out of it. And I doubt Rina helped us out of the goodness of her heart, either. Her help will last as long as she thinks Arendelle really does have a chance of paying her back within her lifetime." She caught the growing smile on Rivta's face and frowned. "What?"
"Oh, nothing." Rivta leaned back on her elbows, regarding Anna cheerfully. "You just sound so very much like a queen right now, that's all."
.❅.
At some point, she stopped constantly wondering if she would hurt Rivta or Kristoff or someone else the next time she started freezing stuff. It wasn't a noticeable change, but she did make it through more nights without waking up to icicles from every rafter.
The sun came out more often, peeking shyly through gaps in the clouds before darting back behind the ever-shifting shroud of grey. Rina's shipments of food arrived, and the next time Anna went on one of her trips through town, she was greeted with a few cheers.
She spent a lot of time thinking about everything people had said about magic and this winter, trying to put the pieces together in her mind. A clearer picture was emerging the longer she worked at it, tacking on a new idea every day.
(Magic started this winter.)
Elsa had always been the type of person given to dramatic shows of power, even in those hazy childhood memories that Anna still had. (Not magic power, as far as she recalled, but apparently that had there, too.) Freezing the fjord, bringing a storm down on them – all of it fit a pattern. It befitted the heir of a kingdom who had been raised with the constant reminder to hide from the world, something that went against everything she was.
( If it could be cut off at the source...
...there's another source?)
And Anna... well.
Anna had always been more of a spare part, nothing special, locked up in the castle along with her sister and forgotten. Truthfully, she would have been content to return to an imprisonment never really meant to hold her (that only held her as an afterthought to the real captive) if she hadn't been shocked out of the closed gates and into everything out here.
Elsa's winter – if it had lingered, it had only done so because Elsa was still afraid, still angry, still alone. (Winds like that could be banished with the flick of a wrist.)
But Elsa was at peace.
(There's an old superstition regarding sorcery, you see – that the spell dies with the caster.)
Everything was starting to make sense.
.❅.
Elsa's grave was clear of snow the next time Anna visited, the ground in front brushed clear by someone else. There was an offering there, too, a crown woven of winter twigs and twine. She knelt in the dirt there, tucking her hands into her pockets.
"I saw the sun today," she told her sister. "It's the second time in three days – weird that that's the sort of thing I notice now."
They don't curse your name in the streets anymore, Elsa.
(Or mine, for that matter.)
"Arendelle's not doing too badly. I thought... maybe you'd want to know that?" She patted the earth with one hand. Her wandering fingers found something smooth poking up out of the earth; she leaned down to investigate. The pale green tip of a crocus sprout peeked up at her from the half-frozen earth, a blush of purple already visible at the very end.
It's nice to see you too, she thought, and smiled.
.❅.
Anna and Rivta sat on the walltop, dangling their feet over the courtyard below as they ate a light lunch provided to them by Kristoff, who was leaning on the battlements tossing carrot bits down to Sven. The reindeer leapt happily into the air to catch them, letting out snorts of joy.
"Your trade-thing or whatever went through okay?" Kristoff asked, glancing sideways at Anna, who laughed.
"Went through great. I don't think I've ever seen the Duchess look more confused – she didn't know whether to laugh or scream, I think." She shared a private glance with Rivta, who smiled. The trade agreement had greatly benefitted both hers and the ever-absent Countess' kingdoms; Pela and Malvin, as the subholders of the lands nearest to them, would also benefit.
And more importantly, Anna had managed to get every single member of the council to pledge aid to Arendelle in the wake of the winter, which – though no one dared say anything about it yet – seemed to be lessening with every day that passed.
(Anna thought she might know the reason for that. It was a secret that made her smile, sometimes.)
It hadn't snowed since the treaty had gone through with eleven signatures. Above them, the wind still blew strongly, tearing holes in the grey blanket that obscured the sky, and intermittent bursts of sunlight shone through.
"Do you think it's self-centered to think that the fate of everyone depends on you?" she asked, taking a bite from the sandwich Kristoff had brought. Rivta considered this.
"If you're any sort of royalty, it's probably a good thing to keep in mind. But no, I think anyone can potentially change everything."
"Yeah, no need to get arrogant about it or anything," Kristoff chuckled, throwing the last carrot down and wiping his hand on his shirt.
"Elsa changed a whole bunch for Arendelle."
"And you changed even more just by sticking around to clean up this mess," Rivta replied. "Don't you think?"
"Arendelle might've been better off if I hadn't." She saw both Rivta and Kristoff open their mouths to protest and waved them off. "No, really. Didn't you notice it stopped snowing?"
"Sure it did," Kristoff said cautiously, looking at her askance. "So?"
"Elsa's spell ended when she died." Anna pointed to the fjord, still a sheet of unbroken white but for where it opened out into the sea. There, the gleam of darker water could be seen, almost back against the brilliance of the ice. She had been keeping an eye on that, too, and the change was unmistakable. "The ice has been receding, too – slowly, yeah, but still."
"If Elsa's spell ended when she died, then..." Rivta frowned. "Why would the ice only start melting now?"
"She passed on the curse." Anna snapped her fingers, showering snow on Rivta's head. Rivta yelped and batted her with her mitten, laughing. "And I promptly started a storm of my own, see? Which isn't a surprise, because I had no idea what I was doing – it probably wasn't 'cause of anything I did, just that I had no control." And I was afraid. And alone.
(Just like she was.)
"Sure." Kristoff tore a bite off his sandwich and spoke around it. "Makes sense to me."
"So what's making it stop?" Rivta gestured to the fjord, then to the sky above. "Because it's clearly stopping, even if it's a bit slow."
"Time, probably. And me not freaking out about everything." She paused, met Kristoff's eyes, then Rivta's. "Thank you. Both of you. For helping me so much these past few weeks – I don't think I could've––"
"Who else is going to make sure you don't do anything stupid?" Kristoff grumbled, as Rivta laughed, "Well, if it unfreezes this place, it was certainly worth it."
The sun broke through the clouds, illuminating the walltop. Anna took a bite from her sandwich, and smiled.