The Rules of Assembly
Uncomfortable, too-tight shoes polished to a mirror shine: check.
Trousers: check.
Crisp white shirt: check.
Equally crisp white vest (waistcoat?): check.
Tail coat: sort-of check, it was currently lying on the too-large bed that Kristoff still couldn't think of as his.
Cravat: …
… Cravat?
Staring at the wrinkled white linen half-tied around his neck, Kristoff groaned and rested his head against the mirror (a mirror – there was a full-length mirror in the room that he lived in).
Odin damn it all to Hel.
Why had he agreed to this again? Of course – Anna. Ever since he had found her blocking the carrots a month ago, she'd managed to talk him into things he'd never imagined himself doing.
"Take me up the North Mountain. Please."
"But I want to help!"
"Catch!"
"It is not NICE to THROW PEOPLE!"
And then, later …
"Here, put on this blindfold!"
"You have to. No returns! No exchanges! Queen's orders! She's named you the official Arendelle Ice Master and Deliverer."
"We may."
(Kristoff couldn't help but smile a little bit as he thought of that kiss. Maybe that hadn't taken quite as much convincing as everything that had happened before …
… And since.)
"Why don't you just stay in the palace with us when you're not harvesting? It's not like we don't have the room. And it's fine with Elsa, right, Elsa?"
(He still wondered if it was, in fact, fine with the Queen. He had a feeling the Queen could be hard to read even for people who weren't borderline socially impaired. For him … forget it.)
"I've never gone ice-harvesting before. Take me with you!"
(The Queen had insisted that they take Olaf with them, and the chattering snowman hadn't left them alone for five minutes. Anna had nearly fallen in twice. But even if they'd ended the day sore, tired, and a little frustrated with each other, to say nothing of the blasted snowman, being able to put his arm around Anna and feel her melt against him all the way home had made it more than worth it.)
"Oh, you're going to need suits if you're going to come to balls with me! I'll make an appointment with the tailor, and he'll take care of everything. And I'll make sure to have lots of ice for when you get back, don't worry."
(Kristoff still didn't know what the ice was supposed to be for. The tailor hadn't been so bad. Sure, standing still was dull, and some of the measurements were a little embarrassing, but the trip had been painless, all things considered. For some reason this shocked Anna.)
"KRISTOFF! I finally got Elsa to agree to a ball! It's next Saturday. You're coming, right?"
Which brought Kristoff to where he was now. Standing in the bedroom that wasn't really his, wearing clothes that might or might not be his, struggling with a cravat that he wished wasn't his. All to please a girl, who, well …
She wasn't his. But she wasn't anyone else's, either.
With a sigh, Kristoff untied the half-finished knot and steeled himself to try again.
He didn't get far before someone knocked on the door. "What?" Kristoff snapped, and kicked himself. What if it was Anna?
… What if it wasn't?
"Um—I mean, sorry—" He hurried to the door, which right about now felt about a mile away from where he was standing. He'd stayed in barns smaller than this room. He opened the door. "How can I—"
He stopped. "Master—Master Andersson?"
The castle's enigmatic – actually Kristoff wasn't sure what Master Andersson's post was, other than "general person in charge" – well, whatever he was, smiled at Kristoff. Anna and the Queen called him Kai, but Kristoff couldn't make himself do it. The castle staff had a hierarchy that was as inscrutable to him as the noble's hierarchy was, but Kristoff's rough approximations were correct, he was probably on a level with the hall boys.
In any case, the man was standing outside Kristoff's door, hands clasped behind his back, wearing a small smile. "Good evening, Master Bjorgman. I simply came here to ascertain if you were ready for the night's festivities."
"I won't be late!" Kristoff answered. "Tell Anna—um, I mean tell Princess Anna that I'll be there. On time. With the cravat tied and everything." He smiled sheepishly.
Master Andersson glanced at said cravat, one eyebrow arching. "Indeed?"
"Um …" Kristoff looked down at the cravat as well. "I—I'm sure I'll figure it out eventually …"
Can't be that hard, come on, Kristoff, you know how to tie half a dozen other kinds of knots—
"Would you like some help, Master Bjorgman?" asked Master Andersson.
"No, no, it's fine, I'll—" Kristoff started.
He stopped.
"Yes. Yes, I could use some help, thank you."
Master Andersson chuckled. "No trouble at all. Now, sir, if you would …?"
Kristoff stepped back to allow the portly man entry. He didn't come in far – just enough to take up the two ends of Kristoff's cravat in fingers that seemed surprisingly nimble. Within a minute, he'd finished. "There, sir. Have a look and tell me what you think of it."
At some point, I need to get him to stop calling me sir. And Master Bjorgman, Kristoff thought as he made his way over to the mirror. The cravat was … well, it was tied. There were flounces. There were ruffles. There was quite a bit going on that Kristoff wasn't sure how to interpret.
"It looks great, Master Andersson. Thanks …" Kristoff rubbed the back of his neck. "I suppose I should learn how to tie one of these things myself sooner rather than later …"
"Perhaps. I shouldn't trouble myself about it, if I were you," Master Andersson shrugged.
"… Oh?" Kristoff asked, trying to ignore the misgivings starting to build in the corner of his mind while he went over to the bed to grab the coat.
Master Andersson was faster (the man did move rather quickly for one of his size). He held the coat out to Kristoff in a … decidedly odd way, but after they stared at each other for a moment, he simply handed it to Kristoff, who put it on.
"Most young men of this station probably wouldn't be able to tie their own neckcloths," the older man chuckled as Kristoff shrugged the coat on. "I doubt the late King ever learned."
Kristoff blinked. "What?" The King couldn't tie his own tie? Are you kidding me?
"That is the duty of the valet," Master Andersson replied. "As are a number of other things."
"… Like what?" asked Kristoff, feeling stupid, but it wasn't like he'd ever had a reason to know, or care, what a valet did before.
"Oh … the usual," Master Andersson said. Almost as if he wasn't thinking about it, he straightened the sheet and the blanket on the big bed. "See to it that the master's room is cleaned, help him with traveling, ensure that his schedule is to his liking and runs smoothly throughout the day."
"… Huh," was all Kristoff trusted himself to say to that. Not for the first time, he wondered if the wealthy were born with only half their brains. Although maybe that wasn't fair. Anna certainly had a brain, and the Queen had a brain that could put them all to shame.
"I should know," Master Andersson went on, "I used to be valet to the late King. I was promoted to under-butler shortly after Prin—er, Queen Elsa's birth." He smiled, his eyes looking far away. "I shall never forget how dazed he was the night she was born – how he kept babbling about how he'd never seen a more beautiful or precious infant. And then when Princess Anna was born – why, it was the same thing all over again."
Fluffing the pillows, Master Andersson sighed. "Now that everything has come out—with the Queen, I mean—people will of course be judging everything he did as King in light of the Queen's gifts, but to those of us who knew him well … well, he did what he had to protect his girls. Both of them, not just the Queen or the Princess. He put them even before the country, and for the King to put something before Arendelle, well – that just shows you how important that something was."
Kristoff found himself nodding in agreement, even if he wasn't entirely sure that Master Andersson remembered that he was in the room.
"And when the King and the late Queen died … they left control of the country, of course, to the Council, until Queen Elsa should come of age. But the girls? Their care the King and Queen left to Mistress Hansdatter and me."
Master Andersson turned to Kristoff, and Kristoff suddenly realized that Master Andersson had known he was in there the entire time, was talking to him, and had something very, very important to say.
Kristoff gulped, noticing for the first time just how tightly the cravat was tied.
"We have always taken that responsibility seriously. Very seriously," Master Andersson continued.
"Right—right. Of course you would. Certainly," Kristoff stammered.
And just as suddenly, Master Andersson smiled. "But that is a story for another day. I think you and I have a ball to get to, hmm?"
"The b-ball?" Kristoff stammered. "Oh gods! Right! Yes, the ball. Of course! The ball! We're not late—right? We're not late."
"Calm yourself, Master Bjorgman. The ball cannot officially begin until the Queen and Princess Anna open it, and as they cannot open it until I announce them …"
"I'm safe. I mean, we're safe, I mean—" Kristoff stopped and rubbed his head. "I don't know what I mean anymore."
"I'm told that sort of thing happens when one is to attend a ball where a very charming young lady shall be present," replied Master Andersson. "Now. Shall we head down?"
Kristoff took a deep breath (not as deep as he wanted, this suit was a little on the tight side, he was discovering), ran a hand through his hair, and nodded. "Yeah. Yeah. Let's go."
"The Queen is giving a ball! The Queen is giving a ball!" Anna sang, dancing around Elsa as they waited in the small antechamber next to the ballroom.
They were giving a ball. A real ball. A fun ball!
And it was going to be so much better than the coronation ball. Anna could feel that already. First of all, Elsa was happy – smiling! – even if she looked a little bemused as her eyes followed Anna around the room. And there was the second thing, they were in the same room this time, they would be going into the ball together, and that alone made this ball better than the last one, even if Elsa decided to freeze the kingdom again. Which Anna didn't think she would, but you never could tell with Elsas. Not that Anna would tell her that … ever.
"Technically I'd say it was the Princess giving the ball," Elsa chuckled.
"Oh hush! You're the Queen, you're the hostess, it's your ball!" Anna flopped into a chair, skirts and petticoats flying and not caring because Elsa was the only one there to see. "We are going to have so much fun! There'll be chocolate cake, and chocolate fondue, and chocolate—"
Anna's eyes went wide. "Elsa! You remembered the chocolate ice cream, didn't you?"
Elsa chuckled as she took her own seat – much more gracefully, it must be said, but Anna couldn't bring herself to be jealous. The past month had taught Anna what gentle, graceful, controlled movements meant to Elsa, and for Elsa, and … well, there was really nothing to be jealous of.
But all of that was over. The past was in the past. They could, both of them, take the best from their fractured and broken upbringing and move on, leaving the rest behind them.
"Yes, Anna, we remembered the chocolate ice cream," Elsa said, smiling.
"And it won't melt."
"Not until it's put in the bowls." Elsa smoothed her skirts – skirts that perfectly matched Anna's, ruffle for ruffle, tier for tier, flounce for flounce. The only difference was that the main color of Elsa's dress was a sapphire blue, while Anna's was emerald green.
And that was another thing! Matching ball gowns. Elsa had cried when Anna first brought the idea up, which made Anna panic at first, at least until Elsa calmed down enough to say no, no, she loved the idea, she just couldn't believe that Anna had remembered how their mother always put them in matching gowns (Elsa in blue, Anna in green) whenever they had a formal occasion to go to, and it made her so happy that they were doing it again.
(The truth was that Anna hadn't remembered, and she'd be blaming the trolls for that one – because even if the memory of matching gowns wasn't one they would have tampered with, the fact that Elsa got locked in her room for over a decade was their fault, or at least it was kind of their fault, but anyway! Anna might not have remembered, but she wasn't going to tell Elsa that any time soon. Or ever, probably.)
But thinking of the trolls brought Anna to another thought, a much happier thought, a thought she could hold onto until Kai announced them and they could get the party started.
Kristoff was going to be at the ball.
Kristoff! In a suit and everything! And sure, he'd probably be awkward, heck, she was awkward, so they'd just have to be awkward together.
They'd dance every dance … maybe not every dance, because Anna was pretty sure that sort of thing was frowned upon, but they'd dance every dance they could get away with dancing, and Anna would make darn sure they danced enough that the old matrons lining the walls of the ballroom had reason to click their tongues and wag their fans with disapproval, because if you couldn't annoy annoying old matrons, what was the point of being a princess?
And then they weren't dancing, they'd hang out by the refreshment table, or she would drag Kristoff up on the dais to keep Elsa company, and they would talk and laugh and Anna would feed Kristoff every kind of chocolate they had until Kristoff was stuffed and said if he never saw another piece of chocolate, it would be too soon, which would be great because he'd said the same thing when they went to the chocolate shop last week, but Elsa hadn't believed Anna when she told the story.
This was going to be the best. Night. Ever.
A knock came from the door, dragging Anna back to the real world. "Enter," said Elsa, sitting up a little straighter (which surprised Anna, normally Elsa sat like she had a ruler sewn into the back of her dress, she didn't think Elsa could get any straighter without causing herself severe bodily injury).
Kai stuck his head in. "Your Majesty, Your Highness, the ball is about to begin. I'll be announcing you two momentarily."
"All right, great!" Anna was out of the chair like a shot, grabbing Elsa's arm and half pulling her out too. She hooked her arm into Elsa's and grinned.
Elsa didn't grin back, not at first. She was too busy staring at their linked arms, smiling softly, her eyes suspiciously wet.
"Hey …" Anna started.
Elsa gulped. "Anna—I—can I ask you for a favor?" she stumbled and stammered, looking to Anna with eyes that Anna could only describe as pleading.
"Anything, sis." Anna reached for Elsa's hand and squeezed it. "What do you need?"
"Could you just stay with me for a few minutes while people come up to—to greet us?" Elsa asked, biting her lip. "Just—just for a few minutes?"
"You don't have to be nervous, Elsa, you'll be fine," Anna answered. "But of course I'll stay with you until you're comfortable."
"Thank you," Elsa murmured. That was all she got a chance to say before they heard Kai's clear, bold voice from the other room.
"Queen Elsa and Princess Anna of Arendelle!"
"Here goes nothing," Anna squeaked, squeezing Elsa's arm as they walked into the ballroom.
It was everything she had dreamed of for the coronation ball. Ladies in brightly colored gowns scattered across the floor like flowers in a field. The parquet sparkling in the candlelight. Black-suited gentlemen lounging against the pillars or already spiriting some of the ladies into the curtained alcoves. The refreshment table overflowing with delicious treats. She could smell the chocolate from here.
And there was Kristoff! Anna forgot her manners and waved like a madwoman. Kristoff saw her, and the way he grinned for just a split second made butterflies explode in her stomach.
Soon she and Elsa were on the dais. One minute, Anna tried to mouth at Kristoff, but it didn't appear to work – he just looked confused.
Well, he wouldn't mind too much if she spent the first few minutes with her sister – right?
So busy was she watching Kristoff and trying to get her message across that Anna wasn't even paying attention as Elsa opened the ball. She didn't notice that there was a line of people coming up to greet them. She didn't even realize that the first people in the line were there until Elsa cleared her throat and nudged her.
Anna blinked. "Oh! Oh, hi, Madam Voll! And … Madam Voll's husband …"
The Chief Justiciar was a short, white-haired woman who nearly always wore pince-nez and a huge smile. Her husband was built largely along the same line lines, though he substituted a monocle for the pince-nez. His smile, though, was just as wide when he bowed. "Good evening, Your Majesty, Your Highness!"
Elsa opened her mouth, no doubt to reply with a smooth greeting and a well-polished speech, but Madam Voll was having none of that. "We won't keep you two long—just want to thank you for throwing the ball. And to tell the both of you," Madam Voll pulled her pince-nez slightly down her nose and tried to look stern, "to make sure you dance with lots of handsome young men tonight."
Anna giggled, and Elsa blushed. "I can promise you, Madam Voll, I see lots of dancing in my future," Anna replied.
"Well, good! At least one of you has the right idea," replied Madam Voll, tossing a mocking glare in Elsa's direction. "We'll get you on the dance floor sooner or later, Your Majesty, mark my words."
"Indeed," her husband agreed. "And should either of you lack a partner, I'll have you know that my dance card is completely open."
Madam Voll playfully smacked her husband with her reticule. "Ow, woman! That was the knitting needles!"
"Oh!" She put her hand on her husband's arm. "I'm so sorry—are you hurt?"
He looked up at the sisters and winked. "Works every time."
"Oh—oh, you!"
Still bickering, Madam Voll and her husband walked away, giving Anna and Elsa a bit of breathing space before the next party came up.
"I like her," Anna remarked, smiling at Elsa. "And her husband – what is his name, by the way? – but mostly her."
"Me too," Elsa whispered, so low that Anna wasn't sure she was supposed to hear her.
Unfortunately, when Madam Voll and her husband left, Anna didn't have cause to make that remark again.
Most of the people who came into the receiving line – they wanted things. Pieces. They all wanted a piece of Elsa, though they'd take a piece of Anna as a consolation prize. They wanted Elsa's time, Elsa's attention, Elsa's help for this or that project—
Elsa to dance with their son … although only one family was going to be direct about it.
The Mollers.
Anna almost groaned out loud when she saw them coming. Ugh, the Mollers! The father of the family was on Elsa's Council, and he'd been on their father's Council before. When Anna's papa had come to dinner in a foul mood, all her mama had to do was ask, "So what did Moller do this time?" to get a frustrated groan out of him.
And his wife was worse! Lady Henrike (the daughter of a jarl) always smiled that simpering smile, always said "my dear" and "how are you" and "let me help you" and never meant any of it. She gave orders like a drill sergeant, too, snapping at the servants when something wasn't done to her satisfaction.
When Anna's mama had come back from tea in a foul mood (even after the gates were shut, Queen Idun had been required to do her share of entertaining and being entertained in town), all her papa had to do was ask, "So what did Lady Henricke do this time?" to get the whole story, told with voices and everything, and always ending with, "Explain to me, Agdar, explain to me why we cannot send that woman back to Grums and get her out of my hair!"
And then there were the two sons. At least Anna and Elsa hadn't much to do with them. They were older, the eldest being ten years Anna's senior, and they'd not paid Anna (or Elsa, on the rare occasions she was seen) a bit of attention growing up. So they should be safe—
Wait.
Elsa and Anna were all grown up now.
And neither of the not-quite-boys-anymore was married.
Oh, NO!
"Your Majesty!" That was Lady Henricke, sweeping up to the dais with her menfolk trailing like chicks behind her. If the panniers from sixty years or so ago were still in fashion, Lady Henricke would have won the prize for "most people knocked over by one's skirt." Heck, even with modern crinolines and petticoats, she was making a good effort.
Anna tried not to snicker when Lady Henricke curtseyed and almost knocked her elder son to his behind. She failed. Luckily Elsa had a bit more luck.
"I am so glad you've decided to host this lovely ball – especially after all the unpleasantness of last month! But I think we all know that won't be repeated!" Lady Henricke laughed, probably in a way that she thought was charming and winning. It wasn't.
"That being said – it is a pity you aren't dancing, Your Majesty – and Your Highness! With so many handsome young gentlemen about …" Lady Henricke lifted her hands, oh-so-conveniently gesturing to both of her sons.
"Erm. Well …" Elsa started.
She didn't have a chance to say anything else. Lady Henricke had elbowed her husband. "Ahem! With so many handsome young gentlemen about!"
"Oh! Oh, er …" Councilor Moller coughed. "Well, my dear, it must be that no one has asked them yet."
"No one asked them!" gasped the younger son – Captain Moller, Anna thought. At least, he was wearing the dress uniform of a captain in the marines. "That must be remedied at once – Your Majesty, please, I beg you," he came closer, making a leg and bowing rather floridly as he took Elsa's hand in his, "favor me with this dance?"
Anna saw the fear flash in her sister's eyes, even if no one else did. Elsa jerked her hand back. "I—I thank you for the kind offer, Captain—but I do not dance."
"You don't dance?" Captain Moller pretended to gasp – or was that a real gasp? Anna couldn't tell. "Surely, Your Highness, that cannot apply to you as well?"
"Oh—um, well, I do dance, but—"
"Then please …" Now Captain Moller was bowing to her, holding his hand out to her, "do favor me with a dance? Let all of Arendelle see their glowing Princess light up the dance floor!"
Oh, SHOOT!
She couldn't just say no. Well, she could, she was pretty sure she could get the word out, very easily in fact, but that wasn't the point. She wasn't allowed. You couldn't just say no when a gentleman asked you to dance, not if you wanted to dance during that set. You went with first one who asked you, or you sat out for at least the next two. Those were the rules.
And they weren't the kind of rules you could just go about breaking.
"Um—um, well …"
It's just one dance, said Anna's voice of reason, if you dance this one with this guy, you can get to Kristoff and dance the rest with him.
But Elsa … "Elsa …"
"You should have fun, Anna," Elsa said quickly. "Don't think you need to stay here on my account." Elsa patted Anna's arm in that slow, hesitant way she still had.
Well, there went that potential excuse. "Then—then, thank you, Captain, I should be honored."
"Excellent!" Captain Moller took her arm in his and led her out to the dance floor. "Come along, Your Highness!"
Anna had to almost jog to keep up with him – Captain Moller had a good five inches on her, and most of it was in his legs. Odd, Kristoff was taller, but Anna never had to jog to keep up with him.
They took their places on the dance floor, Captain Moller instantly putting his hand on her waist – rather low on her waist – and taking her hand in his. He beamed down at her. The candlelight caught on his golden hair, arranged just so, and there was something like a sparkle in his eye. "Let us show them what we can do."
The music began to play, and then they were off.
The dance was a waltz, slow enough to allow for conversation. "So, Princess Anna, how do you like the open gates?"
"Oh, I like them fine. It's so nice being—"
"Excellent!" Captain Moller interrupted. "You know," he turned her expertly, "now that the gates are open, you must join me – I mean us – on a hunting expedition sometime."
"Hunting?" Anna heard herself ask.
"An excellent horsewoman such as yourself will love it," Captain Moller went on. "And fear not – we shan't hunt anything dangerous if you're in our charge. We wouldn't want you getting hurt!" he laughed.
You sure I'm the one who would get hurt? I've taken down wolves with nothing but my bare hands and a lute, mister! I mean, ok, maybe there was a flaming bedroll involved too, but I definitely got one with the lute—
"But a fox hunt – grouse – or perhaps even reindeer—"
REINDEER?!
Captain Moller turned her, and as it so happened that she was facing Kristoff. Get Sven! she tried to mouth. This idiot hunts REINDEER!
Kristoff only had time to turn his head to one side and raise his eyebrow before Captain Moller turned her again, away from Kristoff.
"… of course, you're probably more interested in using the antlers for all of your decorating," Captain Moller laughed, "but I assure you that the chase can be quite thrilling for as long as your constitution can withstand it …"
Ugh. No. No, it is not. Do us both a favor, Captain Idiot, and shoot me now!
"… and as I was saying …"
ARGH!
"You know," Anna interrupted, smiling her sweetest smile, and batting her eyelashes, "it just occurred to me that both of the last men I danced with at a ball tried to kill my sister. I have to ask—you wouldn't be thinking of anything like that, would you?"
Captain Moller's jaw fell, and for a moment he looked surprised. "Tried to—what?"
"Well, the last two men I danced with were the Duke of Weasel Town, and …" Anna made a face, "him …"
"You mean the …" Captain Moller started, and shuddered. "I—I am so sorry to hear that, Your Highness."
"Yeah. So you understand why I'm a little—"
"However," Captain Moller interrupted, turning Anna again, "they do say that the third time is the charm …"
GAAH!
As she was turning, and as Captain Moller refused to stop talking (and people thought she was bad, really, they needed to meet this guy), she was able to catch Kristoff's eye again.
She smiled.
Soon, Kristoff. As soon as I get rid of this idiot – we can dance, and this will be the best ball ever.
Why, why, WHY is this ballroom filled with IDIOTS?
And why do they all insist on dancing with ME?
Anna hobbled off the dance floor, not a little because the last oaf she had been dancing with had apparently slept through his footwork classes, and somehow his feet kept landing on Anna's. Oh, she was more than ready to snap no at the next few people who asked her to dance. She was fine with sitting out the next two dances. Or three. Or four.
She'd sit out every dance but the last one if it meant she got to dance it with Kristoff.
She hurried as best she could over to the refreshment table, because that was where she had last seen Kristoff. That had been – three dances ago? He'd been standing there, sipping morosely from a glass of wine. The glass itself had been dwarfed by his large hand, and it would have been enough to make Anna giggle if she hadn't been worried about giving the man whom she was dancing with the entirely wrong idea.
That, and the look on Kristoff's face hadn't been giggle-worthy at all.
"Your Highness, I must beg you to favor me with—"
"No," Anna interrupted, not even looking at whoever was asking. "I'm sitting this dance out. And the next one."
That was the trouble with balls like this. She couldn't go five steps without being asked to dance. And because of the stupid rules …
She finally made it to the refreshment table. The chocolate smelled delicious, inviting, heavenly. Just this morning, Anna had camped out by the kitchen, sitting by the door and just smelling the delicious treats and driving herself wild with the anticipation.
She barely noticed it now.
Kristoff?
There was no tall, blond, burly ice harvester standing near the refreshment table.
… Kristoff?
Anna turned herself around, scanning the crowd for a head that would stick up above it, for shoulders that would be far wider than the average, for a body that would be bigger and better and more real and more present …
KRISTOFF!
Somewhere in her turning, she caught Elsa's eye – or did Elsa catch her eye? Whichever it was, Anna was able to mouth, Kristoff? at her. Elsa was still on the dais, maybe she had a better vantage point, maybe she could see Kristoff when Anna couldn't.
Elsa frowned, and Anna saw her scan the room: once, twice, three times. When she finished, she could only meet Anna's gaze again and shrug.
Kristoff? Where are you?
Her aching feet forgotten, Anna started circling the ballroom, hurrying into the curtained alcoves so she could see without being seen (and asked to dance). Besides, that's where Kristoff would be, right? Hanging out somewhere where he could observe and not be bothered?
"Excuse me – pardon me – sorry!" Anna called as she ducked in and out of the crowds in the shadows. She almost knocked over the tuba player as she scurried around the band.
She made a complete circuit through the shadows, stopping only when she got close to the dais.
How is he … where is he … where did he go?
She turned around to make the circuit again and ran smack into Kai.
"Kai!" Anna gasped. "Do you—do you know where Kristoff is? Have you seen him? Do you know which way he went?"
There was something in Kai's eyes, something that she couldn't read. "I believe I saw him head out to the gardens, Your Highness."
The gardens? Well, it was rather hot and stuffy in here. Anna would tell herself that was all it was (and later she'd maybe try to bring up to Elsa that, you know, a little winter chill in an overheated ballroom wasn't a bad use of her powers at all, in fact, people might even be grateful).
"Great! Thanks, Kai!" she said, and was about to dash for the door, when he spoke again.
"Your Highness? You specifically invited Master Bjorgman to this ball, did you not?"
"Of course!" Anna said, turning back. "I mean, well, technically Elsa had to invite him, but I was the one who told him he was invited and that we'd be spending the night together and we'd have a great time and—"
Kai coughed. It was that cough, the one that said, Shut up, Princess, and pay attention, because I'm only going to say this once even if Kai would never actually put the thought into words like that.
Anna stopped talking.
"I noticed you danced with a great many young gentlemen this evening," Kai said. "But not Master Bjorgman."
"Ugh! They wouldn't leave me alone, Kai! I no sooner got rid of one than another one popped up. It's like—weeds or something!" Anna waved her hands, throwing them wide with a sigh. "And you know the rules."
"Indeed," Kai nodded. And Anna thought she was off the hook.
Then Kai spoke again. "Does Master Bjorgman?"
"Does—does Kristoff what?"
"Know the rules."
Anna's eyes went wide.
And suddenly she saw what the evening must have looked like from Kristoff's eyes. Her dancing with man after man, always going off with the next one to ask her to dance without even trying to get to Kristoff. Her twirling her way through the ballroom and only giving him sideways glances. Her laughing and talking and smiling, because that was what was expected, because that was polite, not because she was actually enjoying herself …
"Ooooh noooo," Anna gasped, slapping her cheeks with both hands. "Kai—what am I gonna do?"
"I believe you will find him on the rose trellis path," was all Kai would reply. "Don't worry, I'll make your excuses to the Queen."
Anna bit her lip, but she nodded once and ran off.
To find Kristoff.
Kristoff was not on the rose trellis path.
He was sitting under a tree right next to the rose trellis path, trying and failing to get that damned cravat off.
After the ineffectual tugging finally got to him, Kristoff sighed and quit.
What am I doing here?
Not under the tree – he knew why he was under the tree. He'd originally tried to retreat to the stables, but the stables were crowded with footmen and coachmen and gods-only-knew what other kinds of men. The stables were every bit as hot and stuffy and overcrowded as the ballroom. Kristoff had stayed long enough to feed Sven half a carrot and give him a rub behind the ears before beating a quick retreat.
Because the truth was that he didn't belong in the stables, not tonight. The other men inside had looked at him like he was a toff, mumbling "sir" and pulling their forelocks and not daring to look him in the eye. He and the stable boys had managed to come to something of an accord (they left him and Sven alone, he and Sven left them alone, everyone got along swimmingly), but there would be no way he could do that with all of these guests.
Besides, it would have only taken a few minutes before the rumors started and everyone in the stable realized that he wasn't what he appeared to be. That instead he was just an ice harvester, almost as far below these servants as they were below the nobility, and that he doubly didn't belong there.
He didn't belong in the stables. He sure as hell didn't belong in the ballroom. Where in this palace did he belong?
"Kristoff!"
Kristoff's head snapped up. An answer came, whispered in the wise voice of Grand Pabbie, but Kristoff wasn't ready to listen to it yet.
Anna?
"Kristoff!" she called again.
And he had to get up, he had to run to her, because something in the tone of her voice was too similar to that day. That day when the world was white, and the only thing he knew for sure was that he had to get to Anna before it was too late—
He didn't get to Anna until it was too late.
He wasn't making that mistake a second time.
"Anna!" Kristoff burst onto the path between the rose trellises.
"Kristoff!" Now there was only relief as she ran up to him.
"… Hey," he said, rubbing the back of his neck and feeling like an idiot. Of course Anna wasn't in trouble. She was in her home, in her palace, with legions of guards who would stick a sword into anyone who so much as looked at her funny. To say nothing of the sister who could shoot ice from her hands.
He still wasn't expecting what came next.
"I'm sorry!" Anna cried out, catapulting herself into his arms. It was a good thing she was so tiny, otherwise she might have knocked them both to the ground.
"Wait—what?"
"I didn't mean to do that," Anna went on. "Ignore you. Well, not that I was ignoring you, because I never ignored you, I was trying to get to you, but – ugh! I couldn't take three steps without being asked to dance!"
And you couldn't have just said no? Kristoff wondered, some of the bitterness that had driven him out of the ballroom coming back.
"And you can't just say no," Anna went on, throwing her hands in the air. "If a man asks you, you either say yes or you sit out for the next two dances. So—"
"Wait. Why?" asked Kristoff.
"What?"
"Why?" Kristoff repeated. "Why can't you just say no? Not just you, the Princess," Kristoff went on, because if he had figured out anything during his month of being a roommate (castle-mate?) of the Princess and Queen, it was that far from being able to do whatever they wanted, royalty had to follow some of the rules even more than everyone else did. "Why is that even a rule?"
Anna blinked. Her eyes went off to the side in that thoughtful way she had.
"Because, speaking as a man," Kristoff went on, "if a woman wasn't interested in dancing with me, I'd much rather she just tell me straight to my face than pretend to not want to dance at all. Or grin and bear her way through a dance just so she wouldn't have to sit two out."
He watched as she frowned, still thoughtful. "I … I don't know. Why that's a rule, I mean. The way you put it …"
She looked up at him and shrugged. "But—but I am sorry. Really. I should have thought—I don't know what I should have thought. But I should have thought more, and I should have … done something … different."
Kristoff sighed. He couldn't stay angry – at least, not at Anna. He could be angry with every young man who seemed to think that he had the gods-given right to dance with her, and knowing that Anna couldn't necessarily refuse just made him angrier.
But even that anger couldn't last long when Anna was smiling hesitantly up at him, the moonlight brushing her freckles and making her hair look even redder.
"Eh, don't worry about it. We didn't know before, now we do. We'll figure something out for next time," Kristoff shrugged.
Anna's eyes lit up, and Kristoff knew he was in trouble. "Next time? You mean—you mean you'll come to another ball? And we'll get it right this time, I—a dance card!" she gasped. "That's it! I'll get Kai to make up a dance card for me! And I'll put your name in for most of the dances!"
Most of the dances? You had to go and open your big mouth, didn't you, Kristoff?
"That'll … work …" But he needed to deflect before he had to show the whole kingdom how having him dance every dance with Anna was likely to end with tears and broken toes. "But uh—well, the ball isn't over yet. Want to go back inside? There should be time for one more dance … right?" He could probably avoid breaking her toes for a single dance.
Anna looked up at the lighted palace, her nose wrinkling. "I … don't know," she sighed. "I don't really want to … go back. I …" She sighed. "It's hot and stuffy in there, and I just got so frustrated …"
"Don't worry about it, feistypants." Kristoff put an arm around her shoulder. "I'm in no hurry to go back in either. I just thought … well … if you wanted to dance …"
"We could dance out here?" Anna asked, looking up.
Kristoff blinked. "Anna …" He smiled and shook his head. "You really don't want to see me trying to dance without music. It won't end well, I can guarantee you that."
"Pffft, that's not a problem. I can sing!" Anna replied.
In spite of himself, Kristoff laughed. "Oh, you can sing, feistypants. Trust me, the whole town knows that you can sing." He snorted and shook his head. "They're still talking about how you burst out of the castle on coronation day, singing at the top of your lungs and twirling around a—never mind," Kristoff finished, realizing exactly how that sentence was going to sound.
Anna didn't seem to notice—then again, she hadn't gotten his remark about foot size, either, so he couldn't really be surprised. "Are you kidding me? Elsa froze the whole kingdom, and they're still talking about my singing?"
"Well, what can I say?" He couldn't resist gently tapping her nose. "You're cute."
Anna snorted, but then she looked sidelong at him. "… Cute enough to dance with if I sing?"
It was "Take me up the North Mountain" all over again. It was "Catch!" all over again. It was "We may" all over again.
"Definitely," Kristoff said.
Anna squealed in that way she had that was just—well—adorable. All of her energy seemed to coil up and spring out at the same time in a firecracker that was smiling and giggling and so very Anna. "Yes!" She turned to face him. "Ok, so your hand goes here," she put it on her waist, Kristoff once again blinking in amazement at how much of her tiny frame his ridiculously enormous hand could cover, "and your other hand goes here," she took it in hers, "and here we go!"
Kristoff didn't move. Anna didn't move. "Kristoff! You're supposed to lead!"
"You have to start singing first," Kristoff reminded her.
"Oh! Right!" Anna coughed and cleared her throat.
She hesitated, and then a slow, secret smile spread across her face. Before Kristoff could worry too much about what she was getting him into this time, she started singing.
You're in my arms, and all the world is calm.
The music playing on for only two.
So close, together.
And when I'm with you
So close, to feeling alive.
Her voice was beautiful. Her face was beautiful. And even if Kristoff's dancing skills were anything but beautiful – they were well worth it, if he got to hold this girl in his arms while she sang.
Back in the ballroom, the ball was closing. The crowds were thinning. All that was necessary was for the Queen and Princess to officially close the ball, and everyone would be able to go home.
But the Queen was standing on the dais, frowning while she tapped her fan against her hand. There was no sign of the Princess.
Those who were standing near (for there is always someone standing near royalty, able to hear if not always able to understand) would later report what happened.
The castle's steward, Kai Andersson, climbed up the dais and whispered something to the Queen. The Queen's eyes widened, and some of the observers would swear they saw her smile, even if others would claim that she couldn't have smiled, given what happened next.
There were plenty to hear what she said: "Anna's turned her ankle? Is she all right?"
Whispering.
"Of course, too much dancing – she barely sat down all night. But what did the doctor say?"
More whispering.
"She should be fine by morning as long as she stays off it? Thank goodness. No—no, don't bring her back here. Let her rest, poor dear."
Many more people would claim that the Queen smiled when she said what she said next. "After all … right now, she's exactly where she's meant to be."
Late into the night, the sound of singing on the rose trellis path continued.
We're so close to reaching that famous happy end,
And almost believing, this one's not pretend.
Let's go on dreaming for we know we are …
So close, so close, and still so far.
Author's Note:
Hello there! I hope you enjoyed this little one-shot. (Maybe not so little. But still a one-shot!) I certainly had a fun time writing it.
I want to thank Karis Artemisia Judith for giving me the idea for this story, my buddy Steph for beta-ing it, and CrunchDeNumbers as well as everybody on Tumblr who read it first and liked, reblogged, or replied to it. Thank you!
(Also, if you're only reading this story because you're wondering about the sequel to my other story, Winter of Discontent - relax! The sequel is coming. This is actually practice for it; I wanted to get into Anna's and Kristoff's heads before I started work on the sequel.)
Thanks for reading!