It was too warm.
That was the first thought that swam through Anna's head as she gazed at the grassy plot. Even though it was late October, the sun shone unnaturally bright on the mountain overlooking Arendalle, the place which had once held Elsa's impressive ice castle. Though her control over the power had solidified, she had still used the spot from time to time when she needed to vent. It was a beautiful plot, with a clear view of the castle and the harbor beyond.
Anna didn't notice any of it.
Her usually colorful clothes were replaced with black, and a veil hung over her head. She wrung her hands furiously in front of her, keeping a straight face for as long as she could bear. Had it not been for Kristoff's comforting hand on her back, she doubted that she could have made it through the service. Even then, it was a close call.
Now, after everyone else had left, Anna continued to stare at the single stone. The ground just beneath it was still damp; some people, after all, are worth melting for. Kristoff stood a ways back with Sven, showing his support. And Anna was left with her sister.
It was too warm. Elsa would've liked the cold.
Kneeling down, Anna touched her head to the tip of the grave stone. Softly, her voice far from steady, she began to sing.
"Do you want to build a snowman?
Can you come back for one more day?
I can't bear being her without you now
I don't know how
To make it all okay.
I want to see my sister
Just one more time
Before she is gone for good…
Do you want to build a snowman?
Oh please, just come build one more snowman…"
As she finished, tears dripped onto the stone, freezing in perfect little crystals. Silent sobs rocked the new queen's body as she mourned her loss.
It wasn't until the sun was setting, with just a hint of cold teasing her senses, that she finally felt her husband's hand on her shoulder. Without a word, Kristoff pulled her into one of his enormous bear hugs, refusing to let go as she continued to cry into his shoulder. Sven nuzzled his head against their side, a mournful tone vibrating in his chest. They stayed there for a long moment, unwilling to move. But life continued; it could not be frozen in place, no matter how bad one wished.
The gravestone was visited often over the years; each time, the question was asked:
Do you want to build a snowman?
Years later, after a second stone had joined the first, an old, weathered man sat on a block of ice, looking lovingly at the monuments.
"I don't know where you've gone, my dear Anna," he said softly, his smile wrinkling his face. "But if you are together, I bet I know what you're doing.
"Tell Olaf I said hi."