A/N: I need my World Cup fix.

Meet Me in Arendelle

Chapter 1

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Elsa. The name rolled off Anna's tongue like nasty bile. It sounded rude, irritable and callous. It destroyed her morning, and probably the rest of the day. Or, the year.

Anna was sitting at one of the white tables in the grand backyard of the Wilhelm Mansion. She had just had her morning swim, and was now warmed in a white bathrobe. Her hair was tied up into a messy twist with a few strands of dampened red hair falling to the side of her pretty face. She tilted her head down just slightly, letting her sunglasses to slide down her straight, cute little nose. Vibrant, green eyes were wide as she spoke the name again as if in trance. "Elsa Vandenburg?" Who the hell is that?

"She's a Vandenburg, but her birth name is Elisabeth Pereira. Oh, how I've always found that last name crude. But, anyway, it's all in the past now. She's been in troubles ever since her father's death, and she needs at least a permanent residency here in Arendelle. Here is where you come in. I would like you to be the one." That was her mother. Margaret Wilhelmsen, First Lady of Arendelle. In her white, fashionable, lady suit, she had her platinum blonde hair pulled up into a neat bun. Her snow-white skin was rendered in sharp contrast with her thick, black eyelashes, arch brows, high cheekbones and the pair of thin lips that wore Chanel's Rose Tea shade of lipstick.

Nah, looks like Coral Sun to me. Anna debated which shade her mother was actually wearing.

"You look beautiful today, Mrs. Wilhelmsen." That was Joan, Anna's best friend, and an out, virgin lesbian. She let everyone know. She was an attractive, young woman in her mid-twenties with beautiful, long blonde hair, always wearing a crown of flowers.

"And you look wonderfully bohemian, Joan. I love your artsy dress." Margaret winked as she sipped her hot coffee.

Anna snapped away from the thought of her mother's makeup, and her face screwed up in protest once again. "But, mother, no. I will not marry someone I don't even know! What's her name again? Martha? Bella?"

The First Lady uncharacteristically rolled her eyes in annoyance. "What's the matter now? You could kiss anyone at the parties before you even knew their name."

"M—mother!" Anna looked exasperated, her face reddened. "I—I—you have no rights to judge me—"

"I am not judging you, my sweet Anna. We all go through that phrase in life. It's understandable. But aren't you tired of all this waking up and not remembering who you were kissing the night before?"

Anna's jaw dropped. She couldn't believe what was coming out of her mother's mouth. She hadn't exactly tried to hide her party lifestyle from her family as everything she did make headlines anyway. Of course, she was wild, young and beautiful, and coming from the Wilhelmsen family felt like a royalty in Arendelle in a way. But, to hear it straight from her mother still shocked her. "I—I did not kiss everyone I saw, ok!? I have my—err—c—certain standards!"

The First Lady darkly glanced at her daughter. "Your evil ex from the conservative party surely met your certain standards."

OMG. Anna felt blood shooting up to her head. The scandal was, well, scandalous, and it almost cost her father's the opportunity to represent his party for the election a year after. "Will you stop talking about Hans? That was like five—six years ago! I was in high school. I was stupid, horny and just… horny. But I'm twenty-three now! I am my own person!"

"Time doesn't always help, does it?" Margaret hummed, and Joan chuckled in agreement. "Oh, Anna, I've found you the perfect person to settle with. You should be happy that she's a Vandenburg by blood. Everyone loves a Vandenburg. Ask your father." The First Lady flashed her politically correct smile at her daughter, and Anna fought the urge to slap it away.

Her mother had always had an obsession with her own family legacy. Yes, the Vandenburg was one of the biggest and oldest clan in history of Arendelle, and one should be proud to be a member of it. Her mother always reprimanded her, telling her that she needed to work twice harder because she was only a half Vandenburg. Anna still couldn't decide if she had gotten even half of Vandenburg as she had gotten all the facial complexions, skin tone and eye color from her father, a Wilhelmsen—'new money' as her mother referred to it.

Anna rose to her feet, her face flushed. She just had had enough. "I will not cower to your will. Not this time. This—this is i—i—in—in—" Speak like a normal person, Anna. She took a deep breath and burst out. "Inconceivable! This is ridiculously absurd! This is twenty-first century, and I will not resort to some arranged marriage like some old lady who can't find love on her own. Let alone marrying my own cousin! Whom I have never even met! Or, had heard her name before today! And she's a woman, too! Mother! You are gross!"

Silence filled the garden. The maids froze from whatever tasks they were doing. Birds stopped chirping. Joan stared up at Anna, unblinking, sitting absolutely still like a painting. And, Anna halted. This is bad. Joan isn't blinking, so it's bad. What was worse was that Anna had expected her mother to lash out at her, but there was only a sharp stare from the narrowed, blue eyes, the shade as cold as Arendelle's fierce winter itself.

Margaret calmly rose from her chair, and adjusted her suit jacket. She flicked her wrist, signaling for the maid to inform the chauffer that she would be leaving soon. When the maid walked off to carry the order, the First Lady turned to Anna once more. The redhead was chained to her spot, unsure where to direct her eyes at.

"I've spent the past four years trying to find Elsa in that barbaric land of drug, weapon, and human trafficking. I can't let a Vandenburg living in places like that, can I?"

Before Anna knew, her head did the work of a nod of obedience.

"She is flying to Arendelle tomorrow, and you will pick her up at West Manadelsa. ARA 503. 7:25 A.M. Do not be late. Her tourist visa will expire in six months before she has to leave the country again. You have until then to make peace with yourself. Make the affair believable. Make it neat. You do not want to ruin your family's name again."

When Margaret Wilhelmsen wanted something, she would get it. Always. "Does dad know?" Anna found her own voice small.

"He has nothing to say about this." Margaret arched her brows higher. "You will embrace and honor her as I do not trust anyone else's name to taint this girl anymore. Make her a Wilhelmsen. That's an order." The First Lady then turned and stalked away across the yard.

When her mother was out of sight, and with the distant sound of a limo's door closing, Anna flopped back down on her chair again, staring out at the swimming pool. "Is this really happening to me? Oh, God, no." She took her shades off and tossed them onto the table. She buried her face in both palms, groaning incoherent words.

"Chill out. It might not be as bad as you think." Joan shrugged. "She was right. You've been groping ten thousand men for the past six years, and you haven't found the one yet. This could be it."

"Jesus, Joan! I'm twenty-three! I'm not looking for the one! I just wanna have fun! And, t—t—this woman is my cousin, practically a sister! What choices could be worse than this!?"

Joan sipped her coffee. "It's ok, Anna. Incest is trendy. Nobody will mock you."

"Eeeeew!" Anna made a face as she fumbled for a cigarette from Joan's pack of Gauloises. "You're unbelievable sometimes. You just agree with everything my mother says."

"She has a point. Your cousin needs help." Joan eyed the newly lit cigarette, and commented over her cup. "I thought you quitted."

"Yeah, last year." Anna dragged a long puff. Oooooh, so good. She sat back again with a renewed sense of relaxation. Then she frowned, and turned to her friend. "What's her name again?"