Disclaimer: I don't own anything!
Author's Note: Wow, been a while, huh? Life's been pretty busy, what with college and work. But I've been to see Frozen twice now, planning to go for a third time next week and I've fallen in love with the soundtrack, so I suppose it shouldn't come as a surprise to me that I would write something about it.
I've finished Assassin's Creed IV. That game broke my heart a few times and Edward is about this close to beating Ezio in my favorites list. If you haven't played it yet, please do. They brought back some of the old spark with it and it's pretty incredible.
In case the word hasn't spread, I am on AO3 now. Not that that means I'll stop posting and updating here. I'm still transferring my work over there, so the whole thing is a work in progress.
I hope everyone has a wonderful holiday and best of luck in 2014!
Once the realization is accepted that even between the closest human beings infinite distances continue, a wonderful living side by side can grow, if they succeed in loving the distance between them which makes it possible for each to see the other whole against the sky.
~Rainer Maria Rilke
She's used to the sound of silence. Used to the sound of her own voice echoing back at her, sometimes different pitches as she spoke for one of the people in the paintings. Used to the sound of her voice coming to a dead stop at her sister's closed door. The servants didn't speak often. Never more than perfunctory sentences. Sometimes, the cook would talk to her as she worked, but it was only on rare days. Still, better than nothing, right?
The night before the coronation, she went to the familiar door with the unfamiliar person behind it. She sat with her back against it, one knee bent and the other stretched out in front of her. She'd stopped coming here, really. The hope of sound was worse than the absence of it.
"So…the coronation, huh? Are you nervous? 'Cause no one blames you if you are, believe me." Anna paused, as always, hoping to hear another voice from behind the door, someone to share thoughts and a joke with. (She has no idea if she's funny. Doesn't know if her jokes are good or bad. She's never had a real audience for them before…) "Y'know—they've got my dress picked out for me and everything. It's pretty—I hope I don't trip over it." She chuckled a little to herself, fingers playing with a loose string in her nightdress. "'Cause I can totally see myself doing that. And then all those…important people are all gonna say things about me. A princess that can't even walk straight without falling."
Anna fell silent, her voice echoing down the halls. She stared out the window across from the door, a familiar view. Mountains and some of the city rooftops.
"…Good night, Elsa."
Anna read often. Not much else to do when you're on your own and playing by yourself could get boring. She'd read the words 'blather' and 'babble' and she knew what they meant. She wondered if she did those things.
She liked Kristoff, she really did. Like his low laughter and the strange twist to his lip when he smiled. Liked the sound of his voice and the way his eyebrows moved when he talked. So she went with him sometimes, out in his brand new sled. And she would talk because she didn't really know what else to do without a book in her hand.
At some point, one day in early autumn, she stopped mid-sentence, words in her mind from the books. "—I'm babbling, aren't I?"
Kristoff looked sideways at her. "Yeah," he replied, bluntly honest in a way he didn't know how not to be. (After all, no reason to lie to a reindeer) "Why?"
"I—I'm not annoying you, am I?" Because she'd read about annoying people—had met more than a few at the parties that she and Elsa threw—but she had no measure for patience or how annoying she was, if at all.
Kristoff shook his head. "Nope. Well, a little, sometimes—" Anna was almost positive he was teasing because of the slant to his grin, the tilt of his head. "A tiny bit," and he held up his thumb and forefinger to demonstrate. "But not really." (He likes hearing another person's voice. An actual person's, not a troll and not his voice making up for Sven. He likes hearing what she thinks and how her day is going)
"Oh," Anna said. "That's—good, I guess."
Kristoff chuckled and tugged on one of her braids playfully. "Yes, it's good."
They didn't know how to be with each other. With other people at all, really, but especially with each other. Because they saw each other, glimpsed through doorframes and windows, sometimes an echo of a voice. For Elsa, it was a little bit stranger because she'd heard Anna's voice all her life, talking with the walls, the paintings, to her through the door—though, as time went on, Else suspected that it was more talking to the door rather than through it.
So when they sat down at meals together, it was something of a learning experience. Breakfast was easy enough. Anna, as Elsa learned quickly enough, was not much of a morning person. Lunches were a little harder. What to talk about? They didn't know each other. Likes, dislikes, hobbies. They didn't know anything about the other. They spent a lot of meals in silence.
Anna plowed right in though because even though she was used to the silence between her an Elsa—and it was better these days. Not so one-sided. The silence would stretch between them, comfortable with the other's presence—but she hated it. She didn't want it to keep going.
"So I finished reading this book today. It had a beanstalk and an ogre—" (She doesn't know if Elsa reads, doesn't know if she enjoys it outside of the lessons from the tutors. But she doesn't know what else to talk about)
"I've read that one!" Elsa interrupted, smiling.
"Yeah?"
"Where he fights the ogre and there were magic beans—"
Anna laughed because she hadn't actually thought this would happen, was still kind of reveling in the sound of her sister's voice. (Sometimes, she's afraid it'll go away again. That Elsa will go behind her door and Anna will be left in silence again) "What'd you think?"
Elsa's voice, Anna decided, was a little like snow. Quiet and gentle, at first, but it would build up. Anna liked learning what her sister sounded like when she was excited, when she was interested instead of the sound of her shoving Anna away, instead of building walls to keep people out.
(She doesn't move her hands, Anna notes. When she talks. She doesn't move them, keeps them in her lap or on the table)
He found her outside sometimes, in the early morning when dawn was little more than a pink suggestion on the horizon. He would either be coming in from harvesting or stepping outside because there really was nothing like snow undisturbed through the night.
"Morning, Your Majesty," he greeted, fingers stuffed inside his pockets, hat pulled low over his head.
Elsa turned towards him, ankle-deep in the snow. "You know, you don't have to call me that. Elsa works just fine."
"I thought it might be a little…informal."
It made her laugh, just a little. Enough to light up her face and for the sound to trickle out. "I don't know how to tell you this, but Anna and I have never been very good at 'formal'."
"Ain't that the truth," he muttered. "Why are you even awake at this hour?"
Her shoulders lifted and fell in a shrug. "I'm an early riser. Always have been."
"I knew there was something strange about you."
"Oh, is that all?"
Kristoff grinned at her. "Unless there's something else you need to tell me, yeah."
She shook her head and chuckled. She shifted her weight and the words dropped away. It wasn't as if there were things between them; they hardly knew each other. It made things a little easier.
(She should be scary. He's seen her power in action, seen her almost kill her own sister—not on purpose, but that matters little. She doesn't have a cold personality, but she isn't as vibrant as Anna, isn't as easy to pin down. And Kristoff can't quite be afraid of her, particularly after conversations like this)
Anna nearly leapt out of her socks when she saw the pale shadow in the kitchen.
"Holy—you scared me," Anna laughed, recognizing the hastily remade braid of white hair—Elsa never could stand to have her hair loose—and the nightgown. Bare feet, she noted and the nightgown was thin. But Anna had the feeling that her sister didn't actually get cold.
"So did you." And there were a few crackles of ice on the counter, already melting, to prove it. Elsa was propped up on the counter, one leg tucked beneath her and the other one still. She was good at being still. Anna never was. "What're you doing down here?"
Anna dug through the ice box. "Ah-ha." She held up a bar of chocolate, buried at the bottom, carefully hidden away. She clambered up the counter, plopping herself beside Elsa. "Sudden craving. You?"
"Same." Elsa held up the little bowl. "Sweet ice. Plum flavor."
Tilting a smile, Anna asked, "Feel like sharing?"
Else mirrored the expression. "Do you?"
They burst out laughing at the same time, each taking a bite of the other's dessert.
Anna rolled the taste of plum around in her mouth. "Huh. Hadn't tried this kind yet. I think I like cherry better."
Elsa's nose wrinkled a little. "Dark chocolate?"
"Yup."
"I think I'm a milk chocolate person."
They shared another chuckle and fell into silence. It was easy to do and this time, neither of them minded since there was a line of warmth from their shoulders down their arms, their hips, their thighs. They weren't isolated in the silence this time.