Elsa lay in her bed, staring at the ceiling, her clock tick-tocking as the rest of the castle slept. The high moon cast white light through her open curtains, the sheen of ice that blanketed the floor glistening like shattered jewels. "Conceal, don't feel," she whispered quietly to herself, her hands twisting and tugging at the gloves that she wore always. Realising that sleep was a futile effort, slowly sat up, fingering her aching head with icy hands. Her feet were bare, but she didn't slip on the ice when she stood, instead she moved more gracefully than she would of had the floor been a slick ballroom. Her hands itched, and she longed to take of her gloves, but she daren't. Tomorrow was coronation day. Conceal. Don't feel. Instead her eyes fell on the pile of unread letters that were scattered on her desk. Piles upon piles, of childish drawings to tear stained paragraphs composed in delicate calligraphy. But they weren't addressed to her, they were for Anna. Every single one. She gathered several up in her hands, the envelopes heavy and surprisingly warm against her frozen hands, and moved slowly to the windowsill, installing herself in the small arm chair where she spent many of her days. Slowly, she opened the first letter, it was slightly faded with age, but she could still make out the date. The summer of her ninth birthday. Dear Anna, I miss you, you know. Mother says you are happy, and that you are growing into a beautiful little princess. She says that you miss me, but you are okay, and that you are not mad with me. She says you will forgive me, one day. Love, Elsa. Another, nearly eighteen months after the first had been written. Dear Anna, It has been nearly seven years since you forgot, Anna, seven years since we were best friends. You are eight now, older than I was when I froze your head. I wonder if you even remember me, Anna. I wonder if you miss the days when we were together, all day, everyday. Do you remember Olaf? And the time you shot grapes out of your nostrils!? Father was so mad, but it didn't matter because it was funny and we were together. I wonder if we will ever be together again. Love, Elsa. The day news of her late parents reached the castle. Be brave, Anna. Her parents funeral. The last day she heard Anna outside of her door. Anna, I am so scared. The grief is consuming me now, and I don't feel it all the time, constantly. Papa always told me to conceal it, but it is so strong, maybe stronger than me. I don't know what to do. I want to open my door, and I want to love you, the way you deserve, but I can't and I won't, because in the long term, that is what will keep you safe. Elsa Nearly a year ago, to that day. Anna, You are all I have left, but I am so scared that soon I won't even have you. One day you will meet your prince charming, and you will have the happily ever after that you deserve, and I will be happy for you, but I will be alone, because that is the way it has to be. Love, Elsa. Tears slid down her cheeks, freezing into tiny icicles, cloudy with salt, shattering softly as the fell to the floor, a hail storm of emotion. Less gracefully, Elsa stood, and staggered over to the desk, roughly pulling out a piece of parchment, and hastily dipping he quill in ink. Anna, Time is running out. The coronation is tomorrow and I have never been more afraid. My head hurts, Anna, the ice is freezing my veins, because it cant escape through my hands.. I want to take them off. But the last time I did that my furniture ended up a tangled wreck of icy debris. One wrong move, and every one will know. Everyone will see that the monster that I truly am. The trolls prophecy has clouded my thoughts for months now. But that isn't the only reason I am scared. Tomorrow I will see you, for the first time in forever. Maybe we will talk and maybe you will ask me why I ignored you for so long. Tomorrow I will see you Anna, and I am scared, because you make me brave. Brave makes people stupid, and stupid people are selfish. I cannot afford to be selfish, not around you. I love you, Anna. Elsa. After she sealed the letter, she fell back into her unforgiving bed, and pulled the heartless satin sheets around her shoulders. Her eyes drooped shut, but she didn't sleep. How could she? Not when tomorrow might well be the worst day of her life. ~ please review ! xxxx