Hush, My Sister
A Voices Universe Side Story
"Mama! Mama!"
The young girl's wails woke Princess Elsa of the kingdom of Arendelle from her slumber, her blissful respite cut short by the panicked cries assaulting her ears. Wiping her eyes, the seven-year-old rubbed her eyes, squinting in the pale moonlight streaming through the window, looking about her bedchamber for the source of the familiar voice.
"Anna? Anna, where are you?!"
A quiet sniffle from the corner of the bedroom instantly eased Elsa's worries. Brushing a long lock of platinum blonde hair from her face, the young princess climbed down from her bed, her feet soundlessly crossing the floor as she moved toward the figure huddled against the wall.
Slowly, deliberately, gently, Elsa laid her palm on the crying girl's hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. Her other hand brushed the girl's cheek, Elsa's ice-blue eyes staring into the frightened child's pupils. Sensing the child was still in distress, Elsa smiled as she knelt beside her.
"Anna, what's the matter?"
Her sister's tear-stained face told Elsa all she needed to know. The three-year-old Anna shivered as she wrapped her arms around herself, her eyes cast down toward the floor.
"Did you have a bad dream again?" Elsa's voice was gentle, nonjudgmental, as she wrapped her arms around her frightened sister.
Anna nodded, her body trembling as the terrors that had woken her frightened her once more. "I . . . I want Mama," she whimpered, her eyes brimming with tears, pleading silently as she looked her older sister in the eye.
Elsa found herself unsure of just what to say, how to react, how to be the grown-up big sister her father had instructed her to be while he and Mama were away. Clearing her throat, she brushed Anna's hair with her fingers, doing her best to be brave. "You know Mama and Papa aren't here right now," she offered. "They're on a trip. They won't be home for a few more days—"
"I want Mama!" Anna was crying now, shaking in Elsa's embrace. "I want Mama now!"
Elsa was on the verge of standing, of running to the door, crying out for one of their servants to come help her calm the terrified Princess. But something stopped her, prevented her from doing so. I have to take care of her, she reminded herself. I promised Papa. I promised!
The solution presented itself of its own accord. Within the very center of her being, Elsa suddenly felt the familiar sensation that came upon her whenever . . . it was ready to come to her aid. Closing her eyes, she allowed the coldness to wash over her, to express itself, to take physical form.
Anna's crying suddenly ceased, her eyes growing wide, their familiar sparkle returning as snowflakes began to rain upon her and Elsa from a small gray cloud hovering just below the ceiling. Reaching out, she giggled as the fluttering wisps of white made contact with her skin, their cold touch taking away her anxiety.
Elsa smiled as she saw Anna relax, the tremors leaving Anna's small body as she became lost in the powdery deluge. "Everything's okay, Anna," Elsa whispered in her sister's ear. "It was just a scary dream. You can go back to sleep now."
Anna's smile vanished, replaced by a look of dread. Shaking her head, she clung to Elsa, refusing to let go of her older sister.
"I'm still scareded," she whimpered. "Mama always sings me a song when I get scareded." Her wide, innocent eyes bore into Elsa's own. "Can you sing me a song, Elsa? Please? To make the scary monsters go away?"
Elsa hesitated for a moment as she tried to think of what to do. She wanted to say 'no,' to tell Anna to go back to sleep, that she was being silly, that the nightmares weren't real. But she knew that Anna needed her in that moment, that none of the servants could assuage her younger sister's fears like . . . like Elsa could.
Her mind made up, Elsa led Anna to Elsa's own bed, the two sisters lying next to each other beneath the warm blankets. Elsa wrapped her arms around her sister as, stroking her hair, she began to sing a melody their mother had sung to her many years ago when she, too, had become frightened in the night:
Hush, my sweetness. Don't you cry,
For I will sing you a lullaby.
Close your eyes and do not fear;
Nothing will harm you while I am here.
Dream, dream of wonders
This world cannot contain.
Lay, lay your worries down
Like a flowing stream of gentle rain.
Hush, my sweetness, rest your head.
Make my voice your soft, warm bed.
Whatever monsters you may see,
They cannot harm you while you're with me.
Sleep, sleep in shelter
As you drift up to meet the dawn.
Soar, soar like the eagle
Till you greet the light of the rising sun.
Hush, my sweetness. Don't you cry.
Just listen to my lullaby . . .
Elsa smiled as she felt the slow, steady rhythm of Anna's breathing upon her ear. Glancing down, she planted a kiss on her sister's brow, being careful not to disturb her as she held the sleeping girl tightly in her grasp.
"It's okay, Anna," Elsa whispered as she felt sleep begin to overtake her as well. "I've got you. I'll always take care of you. Don't worry. No matter what happens, I'll always be here for you. Always . . ."
From the confines of her bedroom, Elsa listened, standing beside the door, wanting so desperately to open it yet knowing to do so was an impossible option.
Her hand trembled as she brought it to her cheek, tears of misery threatening to escape from her eyes. Of all the days she spent locked away, isolated, alone, this had been by far the most difficult.
She still remembered the look on Anna's face that morning—oh, how she had had to force herself with all her strength not to throw herself at her sister, to explain everything to her, to beg her forgiveness for their years apart—when she had told her she was not going to attend their parents' funeral later that day. The betrayal, the hurt, the disbelief on Anna's face had devastated Elsa's soul, left her wanting to scream, to sob, to do something to break this endless cycle of despair and depression.
But you wouldn't want to do that, now, would you? Her familiar tormentors mocked her from the confines of her own mind, exploiting her weaknesses, feeding upon her fear and pain. Because then she would find out your secret. Is that what you want? For your own sister to know she is related to a freak . . . to a monster like you? Is your own chance at happiness worth destroying your sister's life?
"No," Elsa whispered, conceding defeat. "No, it's not."
Of course not! Better to let her despise you in blissful ignorance than see what you really are—
"Go away!"
It was too much for Elsa to bear. Missing the funeral had plunged the Princess into new depths of self-hatred and loathing. To have this added on top of it . . . she couldn't, she just couldn't . . .
Her breath caught in her throat as she heard footsteps approaching her bedroom door. Backing away, she waited, her mind's eye imagining a hand reaching toward the doorknob on the other side. Unsure of what to do, she froze, hardly daring to move at all until—
The footsteps moved down the corridor, slowly, miserably, until they were muted by the sound of a door opening and closing. From within the confines of her bedroom, Elsa heard a sound that made her heart skip a beat: a scream of pure despair, a long, unending scream that spoke of loneliness, confusion, loss, isolation, all these things coming from the throat of someone Elsa knew all-too-well—
Her heart tore itself into pieces, every fiber in her being wanting to nothing more than to rip open the door, to sprint to her sister's bedroom, to hold her, to comfort her, to be the sister she had promised so many years ago she would be . . . But that role was not hers to play anymore, not since she had discovered just how dangerous she was, how horrible the power she did not understand could be to those she loved the most . . .
Slumping against the door, Elsa slid to the floor, burying her face in her hands. Without thinking, some part of her hoping that somehow, through the walls and the brick and the time and distance between them, Anna could hear . . . could feel just how much she cared, she heard her voice begin to sing:
Hush, my sweetness. Don't you cry,
For I will sing you a lullaby . . .
The silence that greeted her ears caused Elsa to stop, to give up, to accept the unpleasant truth: No matter how much she may want to believe otherwise, her sister was lost to her forever, and nothing would ever change that.
I'm an idiot, Elsa told herself as she stared at her gloved hands, the hands she had come to despise with every fiber of her being. Anna could never understand . . . could never want to be near me. It's hopeless. Hopeless . . .
"Anna! Anna, where are you?!"
She was back on the North Mountain, outside her palace of ice, the wind whipping furiously about her, tearing at the pale blue fabric of her dress. She tried to press forward through the torrent of ice and snow that swirled all about her, but no matter how hard she tried, she could not gain any ground.
Her heart pounding in her chest, her eyes desperately searching for her sister, knowing that she simply had to find her, she suddenly realized she was no longer alone. Surrounding her on all sides were the people of her kingdom, their faces recognizable from the coronation ceremony. Their eyes as they looked upon her were filled not with admiration, with love, but with pure malice, hatred.
"Please!" she cried out, fighting against the wind. "Please! Has anyone seen my sister? Please! Help me!"
The crowd did not reply; rather, each man pointed his finger at her, his eyes narrow with disgust. "You! You are unworthy! You disgrace our kingdom! You are an aberration!"
Before she could reply, she was back in her throne room, the wind and snow coalescing about, nearly blinding her. Looking down, she saw she was dressed once more in the constricting clothing she had worn the day of her coronation, her hair tied back in its tight bun once more, tugging painfully at her scalp.
She tried to stand, but thick, powerful chains held her down to her throne, preventing her from moving. Screaming in fear, she fought with all her might to escape, but the chains were unrelenting. The fabric of her clothing tightened around her, cutting into her ribcage, making it harder and harder to breathe. Blood began to flow from her wrists as the already-tight garment continued to press into her flesh, its oppressive hold on her filling her with dread.
"Why, Elsa?"
Anna's voice rang in her ears, causing her to look about wildly. "Anna!" she screamed, her voice hoarse from the pain, from the terror, from everything . . .
"Why, Elsa? Why did you lie to me?"
Anna appeared before her eyes, the Princess's face cold, unfeeling. "Why did you lie to me?"
"I . . . I . . ." she gasped, barely able to breathe, so tight was her dress.
"You promised to protect me! You promised you would always take care of me!" Anna stepped forward, her hand striking her sister's cheek, her eyes filled with rage. "What happened to that promise, Elsa? What happened?!"
"Anna, please," she whispered. "Please . . . Understand—"
"I'll never understand!" The figure of Anna began to drift away, disappearing once more amid the snow. "You wanted me to stay away from you my entire life. Well, now I am. Goodbye, Elsa . . ."
"No! Anna, please! I . . . need . . . you . . ."
Her words were lost in the howling wind as she was unable to move, confined by the trappings of her office, the expectations of her people, this unfathomable power of hers, and—
"Elsa! Elsa, wake up!"
Elsa fell out of bed, her heart racing as she struggled to make sense of where she was. This . . . This isn't my room. Where . . . How . . .?
Anna knelt beside her, her face filled with concern. "Are you all right?"
"Anna?" Elsa looked at her sister in confusion. "What . . . What happened? Why am I . . .?" She frowned as she realized where she was. "Why am I in your room?"
Anna held Elsa's hand, her brown eyes filled with worry. "You wanted to stay here for the night. Remember? You . . . You asked me if you could . . ."
Elsa nodded as she recalled the events of the previous night. "Of . . . Of course I did. I . . . I'm sorry, Anna. I just . . . I just . . ."
"Elsa, what happened?" Anna's voice was delicate, gentle. "You . . . You were screaming in your sleep. You were tearing at the blankets, fighting to get out of something."
Elsa felt her cheeks burn red with embarrassment. "It . . . It was . . . I . . . I . . ."
She turned away as her control evaporated, the years of repression and fear overwhelming her. She cried, and cried, and cried, wringing her hands tightly as she hated herself for being weak, for being so vulnerable.
Anna placed her arms around her tormented sister, seeing her in that moment not as the stoic, controlled woman she presented to the world, but as the terrified, horribly scarred girl she was.
"I'm sorry," Elsa whispered as she forced herself to stop crying.
"For what?" Anna asked, genuinely confused.
"For not keeping my promise," Elsa said. "For not protecting you . . . For hurting you . . ."
"You have nothing to apologize for," Anna insisted, her hand running through the long strands that were Elsa's hair. "I'm here for you now. Stop trying to be in control of everything. Let me take care of you. Please, Elsa. Please . . ."
Elsa nodded, her bloodshot eyes swollen with pain, with exhaustion. "I'm so tired," she whispered. "So tired . . . Of everything . . ."
Without a word, Anna pulled Elsa close to her, resting her older sister's head on her lap. Continuing to stroke Elsa's hair, Anna closed her eyes, a familiar melody coming to her lips:
Hush, my sister. Don't you cry.
Please, let me sing you a lullaby.
Close your eyes, let your soul take flight.
Let the world go on without you tonight.
Rest, o beloved,
My joy and my delight.
Sleep; let me care for you
Till the morning sun shines bright.
Hush, my sister. Stay with me.
Together, forever, we will always be . . .
Anna closed her own eyes as she felt Elsa shift her weight upon her lap, the Queen now resting comfortably for the first time in ages. "We take care of each other, Elsa," Anna whispered in the darkness. "Together . . . Forever . . . That's us. Always . . . Always . . ."
AN: Just an idea I had. The last scene takes place during the early stages of The Head That Wears the Crown.