A/N: Frozen drabble series, because I'm not really a linear, multi-chapter sort of writer. (Ratings may vary, chapter to chapter. Nothing above a T.)
Disclaimer: Disney owns Frozen
- Beginnings -
He smiles. Tells her she has her mother's beauty. You hear that, little one? Such fine, delicate features.
His wife laughs into the fabric of his shirt.
She's an infant, dear. All newborns have 'fine, delicate features.'
But he insists, and she relents, smiles. Whatever you say.
He hugs them closer; his wife. His daughter. He likes the feeling of the two of them in his arms. A proper family.
His chest feels tight, but not unpleasantly so. It's a warm feeling…he can't quite describe it; it's a strong sort of tugging and all he can think is that he has so much love for them and how can he possibly show it? And he thinks to himself that he's going to protect them, protect her. She will want for nothing, she will be loved and yes, yes, he is sure of it, he swears it shall be so…
The infant squirms. Pale blue eyes stare up at them. She squint. Gurgles.
Yes, little one…hello, he says, voice soft. He looks at his wife. She nods. A decision has been made. When next he speaks, it is just as soft, but regal; firm and absolute.
Our little one, he says. Elsa.
XXX
The first six months are blessedly uneventful.
The seventh is decidedly not.
It begins small. Unexplained wet spots on the rugs.
Perhaps a leak in the roof…?
Patches of frost. Indoors.
Perhaps a window was left open…?
They explain away the phenomena easily enough. After all, the rugs can be dried. The frost melts.
But the small snow storms that form overhead when Elsa starts to teethe are hard to ignore, and harder still to explain away.
I think, perhaps…the queen muses aloud, caught somewhere between worry and awe, our daughter is special.
The king, his eyes wide, mouth slightly agape, nods.
I think, perhaps…you're right.
XXX
They worry at first. They fret and frown. Where did the powers come from? How do they work? Is it a blessing? A curse? The fears gradually subside. After all, neither can recall a run-in with a witch; no incantations, no wrathful plague incurred on either of their family trees. And Elsa doesn't seem any worse for wear. If anything, she seems delighted at the bright, beautiful snowflakes that drift overhead.
And so, the worrying stops.
But the questions remain.
XXX
Are we going to tell anyone? Are…are we going to tell the kingdom...?
…Not yet.
XXX
Anna is born. And though he assumes, at first, that three people wrapped in his arms will take some getting used to, he immediately sees that he is wrong. Three feels just right. Three feels perfect.
"She's small," Elsa observes, voice quiet, because Anna is sleeping and she doesn't want her to wake up and start that awful screaming again.
"You used to be that small," he tells her. She looks at him, clearly unconvinced, but he's Papa, he knows everything, so she nods and wraps her arms around his neck, sighing into his shoulder. Papa also says she and Anna are going to be good friends, and she believes that too, even though she's not sure she wants a friend that screams that much.
XXX
At first, the queen doesn't think it will work.
Anna is still too young, his wife insists. She keeps getting out of bed. She'll keep Elsa up.
She's right—the toddler has been in a particularly foul mood as of late. Flurries follow her down the halls, her small face scrunched in a sleepy frown.
Can't Anna go back and sleep in your room? Elsa asks. She likes Anna…but Anna is noisy and never sleeps and cries all the time like a baby…
Give it one more night, the king says. If your little sister can't behave…we'll figure something else out.
And she doesn't want to agree, but Papa tickles her, and soon she's giggling and smiling and okay okay okay! She laughs, squirming and trying to get him back, but he's bigger and dodges easily. So she goes to bed that night, just waiting for Anna to get up and start making a fuss.
She hears the sound of small feet on the floor.
Elsa!
Go back to sleep Anna.
Elsa, look, look! And Elsa turns over, because she's curious, of course. And sleepy, but more curious. And she sees that Anna is pointing to the window, and the bright Northern Lights that dance across the sky.
Sky's awake! She says. And Elsa suddenly understands why her sister can't get to sleep.
So she pulls her little body up onto her bed, scooting her over and building a sort of pillow wall between them. To block out the light.
There, Elsa declares. The sky is asleep. So you should be too.
It takes a while, and Anna rambles a little, about horses, and ribbons, and whatever her three-year-old mind sees fit to chat about, but eventually the younger of the two falls asleep. And Elsa is quite proud, that she's solved the mystery, and that Anna will finally be quiet and leave her be and…
And that's when Anna steals her blanket, and she learns that her little sister is a kicker.
Good, bad? Mediocre? There's a lot of Frozen fic out there, I know...but you can never have too much of these girls, in my opinion. :) Anyways, reviews are appreciated, but it's cool if you don't feel inclined to leave one. Hope you enjoyed the story either way. :D
