Three Acts

A/N: So apparently all my ideas hit while I'm avoiding studying for my finals. I dunno. Enjoy this little scribble. What do you mean, of course it didn't take me three months to finish…

Disclaimer: Frozen and all related characters and settings are the property of Disney. This story and author are in no way affiliated with Disney, and no money is being made from this fan piece.

Act 1. Anna (Sacrifice)

When she opens her eyes, she finds herself staring at…herself. Translucent and clear blue, her own face looks back at her, full of panic and desperation. She's a little puzzled, and reaches out to touch it, even though the heat of her touch will probably mar the perfect ice—did Elsa make a statue of her? Why would she do that? Why would she make the face look that way?

It's only when her fingers go straight through it that a tumble of memories pass through her head.

The sword coming down—

Elsa—

Running—

Have to get there, have to protect her—

Elsa. Elsa.

Elsa—

"No!"

It's very strange to realize that she's dead. She looks around, frowning, trying to make sense of it. She'd been so alive only minutes ago, and…

Wait.

Where is Elsa?

If she'd been breathing, her breath would have caught. If she'd been able to speak and be heard, she would have shouted her sister's name. Please, oh please, it can't all have been for nothing. Hans can't have hurt Elsa. Not after all this. Starting to panic, she scans the ice.

She sees Kristoff making his way slowly towards her frozen form, and she wishes she could tell him she's sorry and there wasn't anything he could have done. She sees Hans and wishes for her physical body for just one minute—if she had just one minute, she'd use it to punch him (after she'd hugged Elsa and thanked Kristoff, of course…they're so much more important). But she doesn't see Elsa, and as much as she tries to tell herself that not seeing her is better than seeing her dead on the ice, she is so scared.

Afraid of what she'll see, she peers around her own body and finally, finally sees Elsa. Relief pours through her: she sees no blood, no injury. Elsa isn't hurt.

And then Elsa looks up, and Anna revises that opinion.

There is a mixture of hope and terror in Elsa's face that changes to devastation the moment she sees Anna—or rather, Anna's body. Her eyes pass right over Anna as if she isn't there, and Anna supposes that to Elsa, she isn't.

She has to get back into that body! Spirits can get in anywhere, right? Anna's sure it will work. She remembers the ghost stories she and Elsa used to tell each other as little girls.

Ghosts are just energy, right? That's what Elsa used to tell her when she got scared of the stories. So energy should be able to hop right back in! The body is there, she's there—

She shifts back a little bit and lunges at the body.

For a second she almost feels its weight, its familiarity, but then she looks down at herself and finds herself standing on the other side, staring at her own braided hair carved in ice.

(Does her hair really look like that?)

Puffing out a breath, she lunges at it again, passing through it once more. Mumbling curses under her breath that would have shocked the maids, Anna takes a step back and scowls at her body. It's her body—why won't it let her in?

Well, she has to get in there, and it has to be fast, because…for a second, she struggles to remember why. Wouldn't it be easier, something in her whispered persuasively, just to let go and pass on to whatever came next? Wouldn't it be nice to—

Elsa, she reminds herself, and just like that it's back. She has to return to her body for Elsa.

Taking a deep breath, she pulls back for one more go. She'll figure this out. She has to figure this out.

Her sister needs her.

Act 2. Elsa (Grief)

Elsa holds Anna's icy face in her hands with fingers that shake. It's the most emotion that Anna has seen Elsa display in years. The most anything she's seen of Elsa in years. And she really wishes she'd been able to make it back into her body to feel Elsa touch her again—it doesn't seem fair that she can't feel it when it's the first time that Elsa's touched her since they were kids.

She realizes as she listens to her sister's soft, pleading voice that it sounds like it's coming from worlds away (and maybe it is).

"Anna. Oh, Anna, no. No…"

But the feelings still carry through.

Elsa does love her after all. Elsa does feel after all.

She feels worse than ever knowing that she'd doubted her sister, and redoubles her commitment. She is going to get back in that body and fix this—she's going to tell Elsa exactly what she thinks of her sister not letting her help with all this ice magic stuff and then hug her so tight that Elsa can't breathe. And then they're gonna make every single snowman they'd ever missed out on over the years. Maybe all at once. And other things too—she bets they could still fit on their old bike if they really, really tried.

First, she has to get back in that body.

She begins to run at it again, thinking that maybe if she just gets up enough speed it'll work, but then Elsa lets out a despairing cry ("Anna!") and collapses against the statue. Anna hastily puts the brakes on—not like it would hurt Elsa if she ran into her, she's already figured that out, but some old body-having habits are hard to break.

Watching Elsa cry that way makes her wonder how many times Elsa has cried for her over the years, stuck in her room by herself. Is it as many times as she's cried for Elsa? Have they sometimes grieved together without knowing it?

Anna tries to wrap her arms around her sister. I'm here, Elsa, she says, it's all right, I'm here. Please don't, it's okay.

The words must not carry through whatever is keeping them apart, because if anything, Elsa just cries more.

Oh, Elsa, Anna sighs. Don't worry, I'm gonna find a way back, just you wait and see.

It's not fair, she thinks on a sudden flash of anger. It's not fair that Elsa had to have this magic that's ruined everything, it's not fair that it took Elsa away from her for so long, and it's not fair that she can't make her way back into her body now that she might finally get to have her sister back. She has to find a way.

Or you could just let go, something deep inside whispers again. Fly away from this world that's so unfair and so cruel, just let go and be free at last.

…She could. She could go if she wanted.

For a moment, just a second, Anna wavers. Then she shakes her head and clings tighter to Elsa, Elsa who can't feel her and who she can't feel, but who she knows is there all the same. She has her sister, her sister who had never meant to hurt her, her sister who'd only tried to protect her, her sister who's suffering.

Her sister who loves her.

She feels a funny warmth in her chest at the thought, and repeats it. Her sister who loves her.

Of course she's always known how much she loves Elsa, but to know that her sister loves her too…

True love. An act of true love.

Maybe love doesn't always have to be marriage and romance and true love's kiss.

I love you, Elsa. She says it even though her sister can't hear it.

Then, strangely, as though maybe she did hear it somehow, Elsa whispers, "Anna, please, no. I love you." It's so soft that even Anna, standing right by her side, can hardly hear it, but she says it.

And when she does, something amazing happens.

The frozen heart begins to thaw.

Anna watches it happen.

Act 3. Family (Love)

But the body still won't let her in. And maybe…maybe that's okay after all.

Anna floats outside herself, watching her sister's despairing sobs. She tries to reach out and touch Elsa's shoulder again, but her fingers go right through the pale skin. She wants to reassure Elsa that it's all right—she loves her, and it was worth dying to save Elsa's life. Here in this floating space, outside her frozen body and all the years of rejection it holds, having heard her sister's words, she doesn't hurt anymore. There's no more anger or frustration or pain, only love tinged with regret. Even that will probably go once she can't see Elsa anymore. So she'll wait here until Elsa stops crying, and maybe get through to her to assure her that it's okay, and—

There's an insistent tug inside her, a pull upwards.

Panic flashes through her. What? No, she can't leave Elsa alone, not now. Not like this. She has to tell Elsa that it's all right! She has to—

"Anna."

It's a distinctly male voice. And a very, very familiar one.

If spirits could cry, Anna's eyes would have filled with tears. Instead, she turns her head, her hands still dipping in and out of Elsa's shoulders, and whispers, "…Papa?"

There they are, her mother and her father, both gazing at her with loving eyes, and she lets go of Elsa and flings herself into their arms, just as she had when she was fifteen. She's making little choked noises that sound like apologies and regrets and love, but they tangle up her tongue and she can't get them out right.

Behind her, her body is thawing. Anna doesn't notice.

"I missed you," she whispers at last, snuggled between them like the child she'd lost the chance to be. "I missed both of you so much. Elsa will—" She pauses. She'd almost said how happy Elsa would be to see them, as though Elsa wasn't worlds and planes away from them. As though they were all together again, a family again.

Elsa's sobs, strangely distant, break through her thoughts. Their mother gently releases Anna after brushing a kiss across her forehead (and for the first time in forever, Anna feels it), and moves to rest her hands on her older daughter's shoulders. Unlike Anna's earlier attempt to get Elsa's attention, the queen keeps her palms just above Elsa's skin. Though Elsa doesn't react, it looks to Anna like they're almost touching. If only Elsa could see them, if only she could comfort her sister, everything would be fine.

She stares past her mother and sister to her slowly thawing body, and she knows why her parents are here. It's time to go, and suddenly she is struck with fear.

"I…I don't want to leave you," she says, turning back to her father desperately. "But…but Elsa…I don't want to leave her, either, and—"

Suddenly, she feels like a child again. "I don't—tell me what happens next, Papa. Please," she whispers. As a little girl, she'd always wanted to know the endings first. She only liked the happy ones back then. "In the fairy tales, what does the hero do now?"

Her father's eyes soften and he tucks some of her loose bangs back behind her ear. "This isn't a fairy tale, Anna. The only one who can decide is you."

She feels her mother's hand stroking her back affectionately. "We'll be with you, either way."

Anna wants to go with them. So much of her life has been so lonely, so empty. She's missed her parents so very much. Leaving them would be like losing them all over again.

But…they've promised they'll be with her, and if she goes with them…

Elsa will be alone.

She hesitates. Her gaze tracks to her father. Tell me, Papa, she begs with her eyes. Tell me what happens next. Tell me what to do—!

He looks back at her, and slowly he shakes his head. He can't tell her what to do now. Only she can decide what to do now.

She wavers indecisively for a moment that feels like forever, then pulls both of her parents in for the longest, tightest hug she can manage. "I love you, I love both of you," she chokes. "I know you weren't supposed to let me choose."

"We love you," her mother answers, and her voice is sad. "Both of you."

"We'll see you again one day," her father adds. He turns her towards her body. "Go on, now."

There's a little catch in his voice, and Anna feels sorrow welling up where tears normally would. Before she can change her mind, she dashes back towards her body and flings herself into it as the last of the ice dissipates. She feels a rush of strength from behind her, pushing her into the body, and when she chances a last look back, she sees her parents fading away.

There's a peculiar moment where it feels like the weight of the world is hanging heavy on her shoulders, and then her eyes blink open and she releases a puff of breath.

Elsa's face turns up to hers, and suddenly she and her sister are wrapped tightly in one another's arms, sobbing and laughing as they hold on to each other.

Anna doesn't cry for the road she left behind. After all, she knows she'll see them again one day. They promised.

She doesn't realize until later that the energy spent to reunite her with her body had to come from somewhere, and only later still that sometimes an act of love requires lies.