A/N: Please be kind, this is just the first chapter.
Chapter 1: Where Did I Begin?
The box made a soft thud as it hit the table.
Elsa huffed and smiled, raising a hand to wipe the sweat off her brow. She leaned back and glanced around the kitchen, taking mental notes as her eyes roamed the white walls.
"I think that's everything?" she said, tapping a delicate finger against her chin.
It had taken all morning, but the last of the boxes had finally been unloaded and moved into the house. She'd have to remember to thank the movers for helping her with the heavier ones. As of now, they were still in the midst of transporting the rest of the furniture.
Elsa turned back to the box and, feeling a fresh wave of nervousness wash over her, opened it. She had planned to unpack everything the next day, but now that the hustle and bustle of the morning was winding down, she needed to do something to keep herself occupied. Parting the flaps of the box open, she dug into its contents and began to set them onto the small round table—the only piece of furniture that resided in the kitchen.
Inside the small box was a scrap of trinkets and knick knacks, as well as a small set of clothes. Most of the boxes containing their more important possessions had been placed in the living room and bedrooms, but Elsa had carried this one in from the car herself.
She smiled as she nudged the set of clothes aside and grabbed two small glass jars—an empty pair of salt and pepper shakers. These she set onto the wooden table, right in the center. Burying her hands back into the box, she pushed aside some silver bracelets and a small plush toy. Her hands paused when she saw the stuffed animal and she frowned, fingers brushing its coarse faux fur. She plucked the brown toy from the box and set it on the table. Olaf would come crying for it later.
Back in the box, Elsa smiled when her hand finally graced the surface of what she was looking for. She pushed aside an article of clothing and lifted the figurine from its hiding spot, a ray of light casting a sheen upon it.
The small porcelain figure had a coat of paint that had once been a pretty shade of royal blue, though age had dulled its shine. Her thumb caressed the white diamond on its chest, tracing the edges of its shoulders down to the wings. She ran her fingertips down to the small feet tucked under its belly, staring at the tiny pair of black beady eyes that gazed up at her.
Elsa felt her lip tremble and blinked rapidly, shaking her head before she set the figurine by the box. She'd find a better place to put it away later.
Turning back to the rest of the contents inside, she was about to take out a stack of books when a loud crash sounded behind her.
Jumping, Elsa whirled around to look past the kitchen threshold and into the foyer.
A slim man was braced against the front door frame, giving her a sheepish grin as his arms tried to straighten the dresser he was bent over.
"Sorry ma'am, did that startle you?" he asked, shifting his weight to balance the dresser against his knees.
Elsa glanced down and winced when she saw his foot pressed under the wooden furniture. She looked at his face and gave a wobbly smile at the pained look in his eyes. "Do you need help?"
He grimaced and tried to move the dresser with a grunt, then leaned down and huffed. "Wouldn't want to bother you ma'am, but that'd be nice," he mumbled, brow creased.
Elsa walked toward him and grabbed the edge of the dresser, stifling a sympathetic noise when he groaned as it was lifted from his foot. Arms trembling, she helped him wedge it past the frame of the door, the both of them heaving with the effort. When they lugged it into the living room and set it down, he gave a relieved huff and stood up. Elsa watched him grab a rag from his backpocket and wipe his brow, face softening at the look of exhaustion that crossed his features.
"Thank you for helping me move everything," she said, gripping the dresser and dragging it farther into the corner so it wasn't in the way.
He blinked as he stuffed the rag back into his pocket, eyes wide. "No trouble at all ma'am, it's our job."
Elsa's smile wavered and she straightened, arms crossing around her midsection. The knots in her stomach had been wriggling all morning. She turned back to inspect the dresser in the hopes of making herself look busy.
Behind her, she heard the man straighten and pop his back with a groan. Elsa traced her hands along the dresser and slid one drawer open. It was empty, as all the furniture was. All the clothes were still in boxes. Her smile thinned as she tapped a hand on the wood.
She jumped when the man spoke again.
"Well, best help the guys with the rest. Thank you for the help Ms…?" he trailed off, looking at her.
Elsa straightened and walked toward him, extending her arm. "Elsa. Elsa Hendri—" she paused, breath catching.
The young man, who had raised his arm to meet hers, quirked an eyebrow, hand held out.
She stared down at it, then glanced at her own hand, at her ring finger.
Right.
She was no longer Elsa Hendriksen.
"Elsa Norberg," she corrected, taking his hand and giving it a single shake.
He smiled politely and seemed to think nothing of her hesitance, which Elsa was grateful for. He dropped her hand and she followed him out the door to where the rest of the movers were unloading the last of the furniture. The bigger things had already been moved inside, such as the beds, wardrobes, and the couch, so all that was left were the smaller pieces of furniture.
Elsa stood in the door frame, arms crossed over her midsection as she watched the men bring out two more dressers and a coffee table from the truck. She stepped back into the foyer and lingered on the wayside as the men brought in her coffee table. A few of them carried the dressers upstairs to the bedroom and she followed behind them, meandering about while they worked.
Once or twice she worked up the courage to ask them if they needed help, but they assured her they were fine. When all the furniture had been deposited inside the house, she followed them back outside, hanging by the front door as they prepped the moving truck.
"Thank you for all your help," she said, hands moving to grip her elbows.
One of the men turned to smile at her as his colleagues lifted the ram of the truck back in.
"It was no problem ma'am, it's our job," he said, tipping his hat to her. He turned back to his coworkers to call for a final check up of everything and she loosened her posture.
They finished readying the truck and Elsa suppressed a shiver of relief as they prepared to leave. She bade them a final goodbye and word of gratitude, then sighed as she watched the vehicle drive away. Leaning more heavily against the door frame, she rested her head against the wood and closed her eyes, at last letting the hecticness of the morning flow out of her.
After a minute or two of dozing, Elsa smiled thinly. "Well, that went well."
As well as it could have gone.
All in all, she thought she'd held up her composure well enough. She pushed herself off the door frame and walked back inside, shutting the door with a soft click. She stood there just inside the foyer and glanced around at the bare walls of the house, chewing on her bottom lip. Now, all there was left to do was to settle into her new home.
"The first thing to do is unpack, I guess," she mumbled, stepping back into the living room.
She crossed her arms and roamed her gaze over the living room, moving her eyes over the coffee table sitting skewed in the center. Then, she glanced to the fireplace that sat on the farthest wall. It wasn't a large house by any means—an unassuming little abode in the middle of the block. It was smaller than her previous home had been at only two stories tall and approximately 1400 square feet. But it was comfortable and quiet. And safe.
That was the most important part.
Sighing, Elsa dropped her arms and walked to the kitchen, back to the little round table. Moving had taken all morning and even though it was just past afternoon, she would wait until tomorrow to unpack everything else. Except this, she thought with a waning smile as she stood by the table and flipped open the box set atop it again.
She stared down at the contents still left in the box, hands resting on the flaps. Elsa lifted the small stack of clothes and set them aside on the table, then paused when she saw the thin, velvet case inside. Feeling her throat tighten, she reached down and traced her hand along its edges. With a shuddering breath, she picked up the case and opened it. Elsa blinked at the sudden itching behind her eyes as stared at its contents.
Inside lay two rings.
Her throat bobbed up and down and, unconsciously, her right hand moved to stroke the ring finger of her left hand. Elsa froze and looked down at her finger.
It was bare.
Sucking in a breath, she shut the velvet box and placed it on the table. Gently.
"No more dawdling on past things Elsa," she said to herself as she unpacked the rest of the box's contents. "That was then, this is—"
She looked up, then around the house.
Her house.
She swallowed.
"Now."
Elsa strode into the foyer and looked down the small hallway that led to the backyard. She stared at the empty walls, the paint a stark white that only emphasized their nakedness. Her eyes flicked to the staircase that led up to two bedrooms and not much more. She walked up the steps, hand drifting along the banister as the sound of her footsteps echoed throughout the household.
On the second floor she strode to the bedroom on the left and poked her head inside it.
She'd seen the rooms beforehand when she'd been conversing with a real estate agent about buying the house. Elsa knew this room was the smaller of the two, and painted a pale sky blue color. She glanced over at the empty bed, followed it down to the toy chest at the foot of it, then looked to the window on the far right wall.
The curtains were drawn and she stared at them as a draft came in, hypnotized as they fluttered like wings in the air. Elsa padded over to the window and moved to close it, thinking about how the room would be cold by nightfall if she left it open. When she moved to shut it though, a sight beyond the window gave her pause.
Elsa blinked as she stared out into the backyard.
"Olaf?" she called out, leaning over the windowsill.
Her son was in the backyard.
Elsa caught the sight his dark hair just as he moved out of her sight.
With a familiar wave of nervousness washing over her, Elsa rushed out of the bedroom and down the stairs, briskly striding down the short hallway to the back door of the house. She'd left it open when she had first gotten there because Olaf had wanted to see their new backyard. She'd been hesitant at first. But it had taken one look at his large, doe eyes before she relented. She had told her son to stay out of the way while the adults had been moving everything into their new home, for fear that her son would get hurt.
He had a habit of sneaking away from her careful watch.
Elsa frowned at the thought and quickened her pace. She pushed the half-open screen door aside and walked outside into the small grassy area. The backyard here wasn't as spacious as the one they'd had back home, but it was still a nice sizable area for a child to run around and play.
Olaf was doing neither of those things.
Her son stood at the edge of the backyard inspecting the open space by the house, head tilted and brow furrowed. When Elsa walked along the path to him, he looked up, noticing her at last. She smiled at the contemplative look in his dark brown eyes.
"Something wrong sweetie?" she asked as she neared him.
Olaf didn't respond, only lifted his arms obediently when she bent down and she sighed as she scooped him up into her arms. The nervousness running over her skin abated. Somewhat. She nestled him over her chest and wrapped an arm across his back, rubbing his spine in circles. He squirmed in her embrace for a moment and then looked back at the solitary dirt row along the side of the house.
"It's empty," he mumbled.
Elsa blinked and shifted her son in her arms as she peered at the blank slate of earth. "What is? This spot? Yes it is empty, but we can put something there." She tapped her son's nose and smiled. He made a face and her smile grew slightly. "Would you like that? Perhaps a little garden here? We could plant daisies and sunflowers. You like those, right?"
Olaf mumbled something she couldn't hear and placed his head on her shoulder, arms looping around her neck.
"What sweetheart?" Elsa tilted her head at him, expression softening. "I didn't hear you."
Olaf was silent for another moment. Then, "'S not just empty here Mommy. It's empty everywhere. The whole house is."
Elsa's smile wavered and fell. She rubbed her son's back and walked down the short brick path to the back door.
"Well, it won't be for long dear. We'll fill it up," she murmured. She heard birds chirp nearby. Her skin prickled. "C'mon sweetie, let's go back inside."
Olaf didn't choose to answer, distracted from the conversation as he fiddled with the end of her braid. That was fine with her. Olaf would talk when he wanted to. Elsa smiled as she felt the light tug of his hands on her hair as she strode back into the house, closing the back door with a gentle click.
They had time now.
"Mommy?"
Elsa looked away from the bright monitor screen of her laptop, blinking at the sight of her son pushing the door ajar.
She straightened in her chair and frowned when she saw the sullen expression on his face. "Something wrong sweetie? I thought you were asleep?"
She had put Olaf to bed an hour ago in the hopes that he had been exhausted by the day's business and so would have been able to sleep.
By the look of his knitted brow and pouty mouth, she'd been wrong.
Olaf looked out into the hallway and then back of her, lower lip curving farther downward. He played with the fuzzy reindeer plush he held to his chest—the one Elsa had left on the kitchen table—and then rushed over to her.
"Can I stay in here with you Mommy?" he asked. Despite his question, he was already climbing into her lap.
She didn't mind.
Elsa cooed and settled Olaf onto her lap, wrapping her arms around him and tucking his head under her chin. She rocked him back and forth as he played with his toy, rubbing his cheek against the skin of her collarbone. She kissed the top of his head and ran her hand through the soft tresses of his hair, combing out loose knots and tangles.
"What's wrong? Are you not sleepy? Aren't you tired from all the hustle and bustle of today?" she whispered into his hair, rocking him slightly from side to side when he began to fidget.
Olaf shook his head and tugged on the antlers of his plush toy, pressing it against his mouth so when he spoke, his words were muffled. "No. I'm not sleepy. I don't want to sleep. I'm wide awake. Can we play Mommy?"
Elsa sighed and rubbed his back, looking back at the LCD screen that cast a harsh glow into the otherwise dark room. She stared at the rows and columns of numbers and figures laid out on the spreadsheet, then said, "I can't dear. Mommy has to finish her work."
"But," Olaf said, whipping away from her embrace to stare at her wide-eyed, "I don't want to go back to my room."
Elsa nibbled her lip at his pouting, then glanced to the digital alarm clock by her laptop.
9:15.
"Well," she started slowly, "I suppose I could... Did you want me to read you a bedtime story?"
Olaf shook his head and nuzzled back under her chin, burying his face into the fabric of her shirt. "No. Can you sing to me instead?"
Realizing she wasn't going to get anymore work done until he fell asleep, Elsa reached over and closed the laptop. Olaf sniffed and held onto her as she stood up and carried him to the bed. Due to the day's chaos, she had forgone unpacking the bed sheets and pillowcases, so the mattress was bare when she laid Olaf atop it. He crawled to the headboard and dived under the comforter she'd tossed on it, then wriggled back up to rest himself on the pillows.
She pulled back the comforter and slid in beside him, tucking him against her chest when he reached out to her. Rubbing his back in slow circles, she lowered her cheek onto the top of his head and breathed in the scent of his shampoo.
"What song do you want me to sing sweetie?" she cooed.
Olaf brought his toy and squeezed the reindeer plush between them, stuffing his nose into the aged toy. "I don't want a song anymore. Can you just sleep here with me?"
Elsa stared at the white wall of the bedroom. Her bedroom. She thought about how maybe she wanted to paint her bedroom the same shade of sky blue as her son's, or maybe a shade of lavender. She thought about how she still had to finish the spreadsheet documents on her laptop. She thought about all the unpacking she had to do in the morning and how she'd have less time to do that if she had work to catch up on. She thought about how her commute to the office was longer now that they lived on the other side of town. She thought about how her son's first day at his new school was in just a few days. She thought about how she was a single mother in a new neighborhood. She was alone in this new and strange place.
They both were.
"Alright Olaf. I'll stay. It's okay. Mommy will be right here. You're not alone, my love. I'm here."