I was given a Nightmares prompt on tumblr and this two-shot was spawned. The jist is that Elsa has nightmares after the events of Frozen, and of course Anna wants to help. The prompt allowed me to explore what may have been going through Elsa's head during the scene out on the fjord (Anna's sacrifice). This first take is canon-compliant, more or less. The second installment is distinctly incest-flavored. Enjoy the Elsanna or go away. I don't care which.
What Cold Feels Like (Nightmare Prompt)
Everything is so cold. So cold. I never knew what being cold actually felt like. I could imagine it – Anna had described it once, when we were young – the creeping chill up your spine, the burning of frostbitten fingers, the ache of wind burn on red cheeks and chapped lips. I could picture it, see it, but never feel it. Never. Until now.
The world is white. The snow, my fear and despair, pelts me from all sides as the wind howls, drowning out even my own thoughts. I can barely walk, barely stand, the pain in my chest is so severe. It is hard to put into words, feeling cold for the first time in my life. It is painful, yes, but more so is frightening because I have no frame of reference for this agony. My heart thumps again and again, the only warmth in my world. The only sensation standing out from the rapid fire numbness racing through my veins, turning my blood to ice even as my heart bleeds.
I collapse, crying, screaming, so overwhelmed by grief and guilt that my powers subside for a time. There is too much in me, yearning for release, for escape, for freedom. I doubt I could summon the smallest snowflake, rime of frost, or chilled breeze. Not now. Not without Anna. Every bit of control I've ever had, ever held onto, has been fueled by my precious sister. She is, has always been, the only light in my shadowed existence. Locked away in my room, in my ice palace, in my cage – always Anna was in me, in my heart, her safety my only goal and purpose.
Hans' words echo in my skull, sharp like ice and cold. So cold. I am so cold. My heart is freezing. It must be. Without Anna, I have nothing. No life, no light, no love, no warmth. A life without love is useless. A body without warmth cannot survive. I am nothing now. I have killed the only reason I had to live.
I never asked for this. I never wanted powers. It was not my choice. Nor was it Anna's choice to die at my hand. Neither of us could win with the cards life dealt us. I should have known it would end like this. I was so foolish to think I could run away, or that hiding would work forever. One mistake and I've ruined everything. Forever.
For the first time in forever, I am cold. I hear Hans approach, but make no move to stop him. Let him kill me. I am a monster. Anna is dead and her blood is on my hands. My icy hands, turning blue from frostbite, as my breath fogs in the air. My tears freeze as they fall from my face. My lips are chapped. I am freezing to death. Hans and his sword are a mercy I do not deserve. I can do nothing for Arendelle. My people will survive their new king. There are worse in this world.
The ice is so hard, so unforgiving, under my knees. I feel my skin tear as I shudder and cry out, shifting and letting blood seep from one leg as it catches an uneven jut of the frozen inlet. I hear Hans shout in surprise. I turn to see him twist away from me, too far along in his swing to halt the blade.
NO. No. Anna. ANNA. I scream. I scream until my throat is raw. I scream until Arendelle is buried under my grief and rage. The storm, my storm, returns, killing them all. I am left alone, brushing burning white powder from her body. Her corpse. I am so cold I can barely move my stiff joints. My hands are clumsy, my fingers fail to respond. They look like claws befitting the monster I have become. The red blood is frozen solid. I cannot thaw it. I cannot revive her.
My heart has long since ceased to pulse in my freezing body. I am not alive, but I am not dead. I am cursed to cry, icicles dripping from my chin, my braid has long since unraveled. I have unraveled. My mind is blank. I cannot think, or speak, or hear, or feel. I am so, so cold. All I can do is cry. Try to hold her close. My fingers hurt so badly. I can do nothing. I could not stop this. I am frozen in time, with Anna's corpse in my arms, feeling my own heart heavy in my lifeless body, a dark red block of ice unfit for the light of day, while her blood shines against the snow.
Elsa's eyes snap open. The queen shudders in place, flat on her back in bed, staring without seeing up at the ceiling of her room. The blonde makes no sound except to take a shuddering breath. Her hands grip the blankets, shaking, trembling, soundlessly crying as her tears freeze, dropping like tinkling wind chimes on her pillow. Every night is the same.
After some time, the queen calms herself, breathing more steadily, forcing herself to remember that this, this, is real. It's just a dream.
Elsa rolls over, eyes still wide with lingering panic, curling into a tight ball. She wishes Anna was near, but refuses to go and wake the redheaded princess. Elsa has done enough to her, and Anna has done enough saving. Anna saved them both. Elsa did nothing. Grief creeps back, like frost, and Elsa forces her eyes shut. Sleep. The dream has passed for tonight. Just sleep. You'll see her at breakfast.
The room is chilled, but Elsa doesn't feel it. She only felt cold in that moment, perverted in her nightmares, when Anna was dead because of her. Only then. Only every night since.