A/N: Hey there guys. I would like to start by saying that this story was inspired by a couple of fics and one-shots I read, as well as my own desire to further explore a few concepts and ideas that were knocking around my head.

WintermoonQueen's Crystallized Pigments inspired this and, though this actually no longer bears much resemblance to their one shot, I feel it necessary to give credit as I likely wouldn't have been inspired to go ahead with writing this if I hadn't read it.

Onora's Daughters of Arendelle also inspired parts of this. It's a really great story and – although still in the works – I have enjoyed reading it so far. I love Anna and Elsa in this fic; their interactions are very in character and a certain part of a chapter inspired a large part of this story. I promise, it's a good read.

So I guess thanks are in order. Thanks to both writers for sharing their words with us. You should go read them both; they're cool. And thanks to you if you're reading this.

Oh, and I DON'T OWN FROZEN! (just in case you were somehow under the illusion that I did)

*{-} Sorrow is Just All the Rage {-}*

Locked jaw. Stoic expression. A queen must not reveal her emotions. Her father always told her she was a remarkably clever girl: "Do not let your emotion outweigh your intelligence." That's what he said. "A successful queen would never let her heart rule her head." He said it would help her. If she wanted to be successful, then she should rule with her head and not let emotions corrupt her decisions.

She must have been fourteen or fifteen when he said it. The young princess had frozen her room in a freezing fit of teenage temper.

She remembered that they had been talking about Anna. Then, Elsa had asked if she might soon be able to see the other princess more often. They sometimes managed to glimpse each other in brief passing, but other than that, the sisters were practically strangers. Agnarr had gently refused, claiming that he believed Elsa should have total control of her power before she could be allowed to be with Anna for extended periods of time. Elsa had protested, claiming that she barely knew the girl she called sister and that she could indeed control her power – a lie even her adolescent anger could see through.

Tears formed in her eyes and he tried to calm her, reminding her that getting upset wouldn't solve anything; she would learn to control it one day, but she had to work harder. And cue the adolescent ice explosion.

Try harder? Couldn't he see that she was trying? Couldn't he see that she wanted this with every fibre of her being? To imply she wasn't trying hard enough was just an insult to her efforts!

She had raged at him, telling him that he didn't understand just how hard it actually was. She told him he didn't care about her. She accused him of keeping her locked away from Anna because he thought her a monster, lying to her face day in, day out and feeding her false hope that one day – one day – she could be with Anna again.

Elsa had yelled until she was blue in the face, blood thumping in her ears, heart hammering against her ribs. Her anger, though outwardly directed towards her father, was really meant for herself. She knew it wasn't his fault. It was hers; she needed to control this curse if she were ever to see her sister again. It wasn't his fault.

It was odd; despite her adolescence, the princess had never allowed herself to get so carried away with her emotions. Such a show was uncharacteristic of the blonde girl; Elsa knew it was dangerous. Often she suppressed emotion for fear of harming those around her. This sudden show of anger and frustration was completely unexpected. Elsa knew her emotions were dangerous and she tried ever so hard to control them but, on this one occasion, the rage had slipped out and she was unable to feel anything but the bitter sting of her father's rejection.

The burning of vexation in her chest was such a powerful and frightening contrast to the usual gloom of guilt and despair that swallowed her stomach. Her own anger was terrifying.

She knew as soon as she had finished ranting that she was wrong to let such thoughts creep into her mind and spill from her mouth. The stalagmites and stalactites that protruded from the floor, ceiling and walls of her bedroom were evidence of why she couldn't be with Anna; she was dangerous and unpredictable. And she had continued to believe that for many of the following years.

Her father's face had remained stolid, displaying his usual sangfroid, but his eyes – God she saw it in his eyes. The shock – which she had mistaken for fear – and the pain and something akin to disappointment. He said it, his voice not cracking – not once wavering.

"You are such a remarkable girl, Elsa. Do not let your emotion outweigh your intelligence; emotion can corrupt perspective. Your mother and I wish the day where you and Anna may be together again would come sooner. To be successful, you must let your head guide you; a successful queen would never let her heart rule her head. You're far too clever to believe we would ever wish to deprive you or your sister." Elsa had frowned at him with all the stubbornness expected of a hormonal ice princess; she was not willing to admit defeat yet was secretly horrified at the destruction she had caused and the danger she had put her father in.

She understood his words. She was selfish to desire more contact with her sister despite her delusions of control. Elsa knew she should be thinking about the danger she would be putting her in, the possibility of hurting her. She needed to find the balance between thought and emotion.

His wise words and fearless expression in the face of such danger had always stayed with her. She remembered her father as a brave man – brave, even in the face of his witch-daughter. Brave. Stoic. Seemingly indifferent. She knew he cared in his own way and if there was ever a time for her to remember his words, it was now.

Elsa looked at the councilors before her, their own expressions betraying them. Fear, worry, uncertainty.

The men they spoke of sounded dangerous. She wanted to hate those men. The ones that spat her name like a curse. She wanted to despise them – wanted to be furious with them for even thinking she had anything but good intentions.

Arendelle was her kingdom, her home. She wanted to detest them and yet, she found she just couldn't. Elsa understood all too well the fear of her own abilities. She had felt that same fear for years; she had let it control her for such a long time. Elsa knew fear was an inevitable reaction to her powers and it was for that reason she couldn't hate them.

Elsa couldn't let her indignation influence her actions. She had to dismiss the way it made her feel and think how best to handle the situation the way a queen should, for the benefit of her people.

She had to understand their fear, not react to it.

She cleared her throat and motioned for Lady Brekke, overseer of kingdom affairs, to continue.

"As of last night we have to view these men as a threat, ma'am. To both you and to Arendelle. At the moment they are a small group, but their persistence concerns us; their numbers are slowly growing."

Her throat bobbed as she swallowed, taking the woman's words in and processing them.

"What do we know about them?" Elsa asked.

"Not much, ma'am. As far as we can tell, they are just rebellious individuals of Arendelle. There have been protests, most against your position on the throne – some more violent than others. They curse your name and your blood, claim you to be a malignant sorceress. Until last night, they had not harmed anyone, though it seems things have taken quite a violent turn as of late."

There was a silence before captain Halvørsen cleared his throat to speak.

"Your Majesty, in light of these recent events, I wish to increase the castle guard on duty. Though the threat may not be of prominence at this moment in time, I believe it best that we prepare for the worst."

Elsa felt her brows twitch, threatening a frown. She knew, as a queen, she couldn't afford to allow pride to cloud her judgement. It could prove fatal. If an increase in the men guarding the castle was necessary, then she certainly wasn't going to endanger her sister, the staff or herself by refusing. Though the suggestion of increasing the guard detail revealed more to her on its own than anything that had been said so far.

"Be truthful with me, captain Halvørsen." Their eyes met; her expression remained hard. She and the captain didn't always see eye to eye, but she knew that where the safety of Arendelle was concerned, they were usually more or less on the same page. But, if there was anyone she could count on to tell her the cold, hard truth, it was him.

His grey eyes, a murky lake through which she could not even see her own reflection, narrowed slightly. A sign she was right; this ran deeper than he cared to admit.

"During these protests... They sometimes gather in the streets, shouting insults and spitting obscenities. We had wished to see if increasing the frequency of guard patrols and enforcing minor punishments might discourage them. At the time, I didn't think it necessary to bother you with such trivialities."

"And I assume that was unsuccessful; it took someone getting hurt before I was made aware?" She asked. His lips pursed, forming a straight line; he bowed his head in reluctant confirmation. "As for increasing the castle guard, I believe it would only show fear; if we show them that I am hiding then doesn't that only strengthen their resolve? I will not hide whilst these ruffians terrorise my people."

"Of course, your Majesty."

"I want more guards on the streets; my people will be safe. You should have come to me sooner."

"I didn't believe it to be such a pressing matter, ma'am; the first few incidents were nothing more than the rantings of a few drunken men. Unfortunately, this has progressed into organised protests and preachings. It seems they have grown steadily just recently, despite their inactivity. Last night was the first and worst of their public appearances in days. I apologise, ma'am."

"I want any and all incidents that could possibly be connected to these men to be reported to me immediately in the future. All offenders will be arrested and brought in for questioning. We need suppress this violent behaviour before it gets out of hand." She met his eyes, her lips drawn into a stern line. "And before anyone else gets hurt."

"Of course, your Majesty. I shall report any such incidents to you in the future."

"Very well. If that is all..."

"There was one more thing we wished to address your Majesty," came Eriksson's voice. He was a tall man of slim build, her elder by about twenty years with greying brunette hair and somewhat wrinkled blue eyes. "If we are all in the spirit of addressing situations before they become problematic," he continued.

"Carry on."

"As part of this most trusted council, we are all aware of the fact that you, yourself, cannot bear a child, your Majesty and shall be relying upon Princess Anna being the heir to your throne."

Well, that was a sharp turn. Her brow raised. One minute they're talking about these dangerous men and the next he brings this up...

Indeed, she could not bear children. Many young girls eagerly awaited the day when their moon blood would come, signifying their transition from little girl to young lady. Unfortunately, for Arendelle's queen, that day had never come.

Her mother had tried to comfort her when, at seventeen years old, she had still yet to bleed once. She assured her that for many young women such an event was simply delayed and that her day would soon come. Elsa was never so hopeful. Despite her mother's desire to offer a shoulder to cry on, Elsa had outright refused anyone entry to her room for an entire week following her seventeenth birthday.

She had remembered feeling broken – literally; her body didn't work. And how could it? A freak of nature should surely have never been given the chance to breed – to create more obscenities like herself. Despite the fact she had never wanted a child – and held no desire to endure the activity through which one was created – there was something about coming to the realisation that she couldn't bear a child anyway that hurt like a vice crushing her heart.

Perhaps it was the primal, instinctive part of her brain that told her she needed to reproduce or maybe it was just the fact that it was one more thing she could not have – something that many others, unlike herself, could have. Jealousy was a crude way of phrasing it; it was more like envy – deep and seething. Oh how she desired it to be someone else cursed the way she was. And then guilt would take envy's place for she could never wish this feeling of loneliness and utter uselessness on anyone else and thought herself horrific for ever having had such a thought. A vicious cycle that had continued over the years.

But now, nearing her twenty third birthday – past the years where one would expect any such experience – she had to accept the fact that such a day would never come and she would never have children of her own. Elsa blamed the ice for making her body inhospitable; surely no babe could survive the chill of her barren womb. Did she even have a womb? Regardless, she had come to rely on Anna being her heir.

Every marriage proposal she had ever received was burned to a crisp. Kai would deliver them to her out of courtesy despite the fact that she had so often told him to destroy them himself. She supposed he lived in some sort of flat hope that she might read one and feel a connection with one of the tedious two dimensional characters those pompous princes portrayed themselves to be. But she could never feel anything for them; it wasn't in her nature.

And she couldn't give him anything. So, even if she did force herself to lay with a man she could never love, her womb would remain as barren and fruitless as it always had been. So, what was the point in trying? She could never have what she wanted. So, what was the point in trying? She could never be happy like that. So, what was the point trying?

"Your point being, Eriksson?" She asked, brow raised. He pursed his lips and adjusted his spectacles before continuing.

"Princess Anna realises the responsibility of becoming queen?" He asked, twitching his nose to raise his glasses. "A Master Kristoff Bjorgman has recently proposed to the princess, am I correct?" Eriksson continued.

How had he even discovered that? It had been discussed between Anna and herself only a week ago. Elsa had hoped that Kristoff would propose sooner rather than later so that she could give them her blessing and there could be no argument. But now that the councillors had discovered his intentions, it would be almost impossible for them to ever be together – even despite the fact that Elsa had already given her blessing and Anna had joyously accepted.

The reason for her haste was that any children Anna and Kristoff had would not be eligible heirs of the Arendellian throne. Unless they were the only children and there was no opportunity to birth more suitable heirs.

They may hold the title of Prince or Princess of Arendelle, but they may never ascend to the position of King or Queen of Arendelle. Such was the unfortunate and rather inconvenient restriction of morganatic marriage – the cruel reality of marrying for love rather than political benefit.

"The Árnadalr bloodline will end with Princess Anna unless she marries royalty," Eriksson added, his expression anything but cruel. Elsa met his large eyes, his words smashing a hole in her chest and turning her stomach.

"I can't take that away from her. Not after everything she's been through." Elsa felt moisture gather in her eyes, throat constricting. "She deserves love."

"Ma'am, I am afraid there is no other way," Eriksson replied, his expression pained. "She must."

He felt truly empathetic toward the blonde haired woman before him. It brought him no pleasure to ask such questions or insist such things but the future of Arendelle and its royal family was in question and, as an esteemed member of the Monarch's Council, it was his responsibility to ensure that future was hopeful.

Eriksson pushed the glasses further up the bridge of his nose once more. She wanted to rip them off his face. Maybe smash them. Maybe freeze them, chill them till they shatter. She wanted to cry. She felt compelled to apologise.

"I... I will speak with Princess Anna. Thank you, Master Eriksson. Is that all?"

There were shared glances to confirm that there was indeed nothing more to be said before she dismissed them and they stood to leave.

She glared. Not at anything in particular. Her face just hardened into a bitter grimace. She was shivering. It was cold – she couldn't feel the cold. That was part of the problem – this infernal ice that seemed insistent on ruining the lives of those she loved. So, maybe she wasn't shivering from the chill that emanated from her body but perhaps the rage wracking her lithe form. Or maybe it was the execrable ice within shaking with cruel laughter at her despair.

Elsa raised her hand, brushing the pads of her fingers over the smooth wood of the door. Taking a calming breath, she gently rapped the oak with pale knuckles.

Better to do this sooner rather than later.

"Hello – who is it?" Came a quick, almost anxious, voice on the other side.

"It's Elsa. May I come in?"

"Um..." She heard a crash and a groan followed by harsh whispers. She frowned, wondering what on earth Anna might be doing.

Hearing an exclamation of pain, Elsa entered concerned as to whether Anna was all right. She raised a brow at the sight before her. Under any other circumstances, it may have been comical. If she weren't about to destroy her happiness she might have even reminded her of the consequences of being caught in such a situation.

"Kristoff?" The queen's brow hiked up at the sight of the large man fumbling to stand, his face that of a child caught with their hand in the cookie jar.

He looked up at her from the floor with worried eyes, cradling the back of his head with his hand, flushing pink.

"Your Majesty... I-I, hello," he said, silently cursing himself for being caught in such a situation that looked far worse than it actually was – and for blushing.

"Elsa, I can explain -" Anna began, concerned that her conservative sister might think the worst of Kristoff being in her bedroom and, considering their awkwardness, she was sure Elsa knew exactly what they were doing.

"- Anna, may I speak with you." Anna frowned. Elsa glanced back to Kristoff, now standing, his cheeks still flushed pink. "Alone."

Anna felt her chest tighten. The last time Elsa had asked to speak with her 'Alone' she had refused, and things didn't go so well.

"I'll, um, I'll just be going then." Kristoff stood and made his way towards the door, slipping past Elsa silently before then shutting it behind him. He could have sworn he felt Anna glaring daggers into the back of his head as he scampered away, leaving her to face her sister's questions alone.

Once outside he breathed a sigh of relief, hopeful that Elsa wasn't too upset about finding him in the princess' bedchambers; it looked a lot worse than it actually was.

Blue eyes met teal and suddenly a torrent of words spilled from the princess' mouth.

"Elsa, nothing happened – I promise. I wouldn't – Kristoff's not – I mean we're not – we haven't done anything like that, yet." Her eyes went wide at how one might interpret that. "Not- Not that we actually plan on doing that. That's – no that's not – Kristoff's a gentleman. And I'm a lady. I wouldn't do those things."

"Anna... I – I just need to talk to you about something," Elsa began slowly, taking a nervous seat beside her sister on the edge of the bed.

She ran her palm over the sheets. Contemplating how exactly one told Anna with her gorgeous, hopeful little soul that she absolutely could not, under any circumstances marry the love of her life because she, the barren Ice Witch of Arendelle, could bear no children of her own. It seemed too harsh a truth to tell. Certainly, too cruel a fate for the girl who never gave up hope.

How was it possible that words had the potential to shatter someone like that? How was it fair?

"I need to... There's something I haven't told you. You know, as queen, I should produce an heir?" Anna nodded. Elsa took this as her cue to continue.

"Any child of mine would likely carry this burden-" She began, trying to ease into the more difficult part of the conversation.

"- Your magic?" Anna interrupted. "It's not a burden; it's beautiful."

"You know how to control it now, so what's to say they couldn't learn too? You'd be a wonderful mother, Elsa; you're loving and kind. I'm sure you would be great-"

"- I can't." She pursed her lips, fearing how Anna might react. Elsa suddenly decided she needn't drag this out longer than needs be; she should just tell Anna the truth. "That's what I'm trying to tell you..." She added, a lump growing in her throat.

Anna's brows drew together once more, utterly bemused by the sadness in her sister's voice.

"Wait... what? Can't? Can't control your magic? Of course you can; we worked it all out. Love is the answer." Anna didn't know if it were possible to get any more confused. "Kids are amazing... sure they're a little messy, clumsy, loud, energetic... But I don't – I'm... Why wouldn't you want that? You could teach them to control it. It'll be fine. Besides, kids are the best love you can get."

Elsa felt her stomach twisting, an amalgam of utterly unpleasant emotions curdling within. Guilt. Sadness. Despair. She felt sick actually. Her hands were trembling in her lap. She tried to rein in her emotions, only barely aware of the growing chill emanating from her body, rime spreading from her palm on the bed. She didn't know what was worse, Anna insisting that she have children or the dreadful news she had yet to deliver.

"I can control it – it's been getting better... And it – it isn't that I don't want children." She started, glancing back to the kind face before her. Anna was waiting, patiently. Patiently, as she always was. "I can't."

"Can't?" She noticed her eyes flicker to her stomach then back to her face. "You can't?"

"No."

"Can't..."

Anna's eyes were on her abdomen once more; she shifted slightly under the scrutiny.

"Oh..." Anna breathed, suddenly scared of saying the wrong thing. "I'm sorry." Elsa, puzzled by the sympathy, broke the eye contact. Anna lay a palm on her hand and squeezed to remind her she could talk to her. They had become quite good at that in the weeks after the Thaw. Talking.

"I'm fine." Wringing her hands, she looked back to her sister. "I actually wanted to talk about what that would mean for you."

"I'll be the queen one day?" Anna asked, replacing her palm on Elsa's fidgeting hands. Elsa nodded. "That's cool - it's fine. I can't guarantee I'll be as good as you are but I-"

"- You can't marry Kristoff." There it was. She said it. No point in delaying it any longer. If she was going to break her precious little heart better to do it sooner rather than later, right?

Anna's mouth hung open. Elsa couldn't look her in the eye. It was Anna's turn to feel sick. She hadn't considered that. It was like a punch to the stomach.

But Kristoff had just proposed last week. She was supposed to be marrying him in a few months time. How could this happen?

Kristoff was supposed to be her true love. How could she marry anyone else?

"I..." Anna began, throat constricting as unshed tears pooled in teal orbs.

"I'm so sorry. If – if there were any other way..." Anna could hear the desperation with which Elsa desired 'any other way' in the way her voice cracked.

Elsa was almost brought to tears by the younger girl's expression. Sadness. Shock. Disappointment.

Anna didn't know how to feel. She was, for once in her life, utterly speechless. Elsa reached for her hand; if Anna cared she didn't show any sign.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," Elsa whispered, caressing Anna's hand with her thumb. "I'm so sorry." It seemed she really couldn't do anything right when it came to being a big sister. She really was useless.

Suddenly, she was pulled into her arms, and a gasp escaped her. Elsa frowned, carefully yet affectionately returning the gesture as she was unsure whether Anna was just too upset to be angry or if she really wanted her comfort.

Anna rested her chin silently on her sister's shoulder for what seemed like hours but was likely just a few minutes, tears trailing down her freckled face – drowning teal eyes in sadness.

Her thoughts wandered. Who might she have to marry? Some snotty prince? Older than her? Like... a lot older? A narcissist? A psycho like Hans? Whoever he was, he would surely be nothing like Kristoff; the smell of reindeer wouldn't linger on his clothes, he wouldn't pick his nose and pretend she couldn't see him, he wouldn't belch and blame it on Sven. He wouldn't make her happy like Kristoff did.

The idea of being with anyone else made her shiver, but such was her responsibility to her kingdom now.

Pulling back and meeting guilty blue eyes, she managed a twitch of her lips that looked somewhat like a smile. Their hands found each other once again, fingers entwined.

"Don't be sorry. It isn't your fault." Her eyes turned down, and she observed their hands before adding: "I suppose... I should be grateful. At least I can have children."

Elsa swallowed thickly and shook her head to deny the tears that were forming in her eyes.

"Oh, Anna... that isn't the thing that saddens me most, it's the responsibility that it forces upon you. It isn't fair." She reached forward and tucked a copper strand behind her ear. "For that, I'm sorry."

"It's okay." She gave a small smile through the tears. "I'm not sure Kristoff really wanted to marry me anyway."

"You're wonderful Anna – please don't doubt that. I love you so much." A tear dribbled down her cheek; Anna reached to wipe it from her fair skin. "I'm sorry; I'm not the one that should be getting upset."

"I love you too," Anna replied, pulling her into another hug.

After what seemed like hours, they were laying next to each other, just holding each other with equally gloomy expressions. They were both battling the pull of sleep for a few more moments of the other's silent company.

Her sister, now beside her – after all their years apart – and she felt Elsa still kept too much to herself.

I mean, most people would know if their sister was infertile. She thought, brows furrowing at her own ignorance. That was something normal sisters talked about, right? Woman stuff and men and stuff, right? Right?

It wasn't the first time Anna had to remind herself that she and Elsa were not exactly a prime example of normal sisters. Their relationship was odd, much like that of long lost strangers, best acquaintances or foreign familiars.

They were sisters; they weren't friends; they loved each other; they didn't know each other and they cared for each other, though neither understood the other's strife. And it was with that realisation, that Anna vowed to erase the gap that had formed between them over the years. The gap that she had worked so hard to chip away at over the time following the Great Thaw.

Fair skin, barely-there freckles dusted across otherwise unblemished ivory cheeks and slightly down-turned lips. A few rogue strands of hair had come loose of her braid, framing her sharp face with white-blonde tresses.

Anna tried to remember a younger Elsa. She recalled a rounder face with fuller cheeks, a higher voice, someone of shorter stature. Despite her efforts, she could not recall a young Elsa that seemed genuinely happy. She was too young to remember much before the accident and any memory she did have of joyous times didn't quite seem to capture the essence of happiness. They carried an air of falseness – void of true emotion.

She supposed counterfeit, magic-induced, troll memories couldn't compare to the real thing. She would have to make her own happy memories with Elsa, and with Kristoff while she still had the chance – even if she could never marry him.

Her last conscious thought before she succumbed to the blissful haze of sleep was how she would manage to talk to Kristoff the next time she saw him. How would she make memories with him if she broke his heart? She would have to tell him. Gently. And try not to cry.

And her thoughts ended there as sleep claimed her and heavy lids fell over tired teal orbs.

A/N: So, that's that. Let me know what you thought about it; all thoughts and feelings are welcome, guys.

Absolutely MASSIVE thanks to my beta-readers Scorpiofreak and JustNeedToReview. You've been amazing and the help you've given me has been great and is massively appreciated.

Hopefully, I will have more up soon; I am trying to be a more responsible writer and write a few more chapters in advance than I would usually. So, maybe you won't be waiting months for updates...

Additional note - A lot of my chapter titles will be named after song titles or lyrics (not all of them though) - cookies to anyone who guess them!

- Fly :3