"Is it just me, or was that flight shorter than expected?"

"It's just you…" Elsa unintentionally hissed as she desperately rubbed her legs.

Truly, the flight had been terribly long, and uncomfortable. She and Kristoff had been paired to sit together, which didn't initially seem like a bad idea, but as the journey progressed she learned something she hadn't previously observed of him back at school. He apparently loved to talk. And unfortunately, only about himself.

It wasn't at all narcissistic; he had mostly wanted to just talk to Elsa, as a means of calming her down. Her anxiousness was exceptionally visible on the pale canvas of her face, slightly whiter than usual if it were possible. So, he began talking about his favorite hobby; ice sculpting. As strange of a fit as it may seem, a teenage boy engaged in such a refined art, he certainly had a natural talent for it. Elsa had in fact seen one herself before; her father had purchased one as a centerpiece for a community fundraiser a year or so earlier. It was an intricate piece; a sculpture of several native birds flocking together, and every detail seemed on point, right down to the plumage.

While at first it was somewhat comforting to have someone talking to her, distracting her from her own wandering mind, after the first two hours Elsa found herself growing worse for wear. But she trudged on, attempting to listen intently, mostly out of courtesy. In all honesty the two hadn't been friends for very long. Acquaintances at best, bonded by their involvement in the exchange program more than anything, they had never really spoken to each other much during the 11 years of schooling prior. And this was likely why she had nothing to say back to him. The pair got along fine, pretending this a new friendship, forgetting the many years of disinterest in the other.

She had been hoping to get more sleep than the three hours she had attained while en route but now that they were grounded, she really didn't feel as exhausted as anticipated. Suddenly there was no point worrying anymore, the future was now. The pair had already gathered their luggage and were almost out to the pick-up station. Her hands ran through her bangs, smoothing them out before slicking them back, the rest of her champagne blonde hair had already been done into a shoulder length braid hour's prior. Kristoff gave her an anticipatory glance, which she responded to with a quick shot of a smile.

"Time to meet our hosts."


Anna had been awakened by the grip of her brother's hand on her shoulder, gently shaking. Luckily today it hadn't taken much to wake her. Everyone was abuzz within the Frederickson household, except for her, not because she hadn't spent a fair share of her time thinking about their new boarder. She had, and yet this didn't seem to dent her show of poise, or lack thereof.

It had been her decision to not put on any special show for their new guest, "She's going to see the way we live anyways, so the sooner we expose her to it the quicker she'll get the hang."

"I agree Anna, but there's something to be said about formality. There's no replacement for a good first impression," he said while shaking his finger in the air, mocking the voice of an elder teacher that had both had. "So please, at least wear one of your church dresses for the pick up. For me"

She hadn't been able to say no, Hans' radiating smile had that affect on people, and now she paying the price. Her hair was a mess, a usual affair for her, but today she had been convinced into doing her hair up, to better pull of the "church bound" look her brother so desperately wished for them to all portray. With her mother's help, and lots of brushing, it had only taken thirty minutes to achieve the desired affect. Only another half hour was required before she finally descended the step into the kitchen, dolled up to look like some form of southern royalty. Time was being cut close, so within minutes they had pilled her father's vehicle

"Anna please, straighten your legs or else you'll crinkle the hemming," her mother squawked. It was a very particular tone, one that she saved exclusively for her daughter, and one that Anna had learned to detest. "Yes mother," she sighed, flexing her eyebrows in a sarcastic tone as she said so. Her mother hadn't noticed. Hans did however, and left the spot next to their parents to kneel next to her.

"Still upset you missed breakfast," he questioned her, tone soft. "Maybe, this will help…" He offered his arm and helped her up before sliding a chocolate bar into her hands. She smiled wide upon noticing the gift. It wouldn't fill her up, but it would definitely help her mood, just as he had hoped it would when he decided to bring it.

They joined their parents standing in the front of the pick up area, and it wasn't a moment too soon. Two blonde-headed teenagers had just turned the corner, their eyes scanning eagerly from side to side until they settled upon the sign Mr. Frederickson was holding. The girl, with a unique shade of platinum hair, waved to them, she must have been the one they were waiting for.

Anna spotted her waving, standing next to a slightly taller, well built blonde headed boy. She scanned him, fairly attractive she thought, a well structured face, his nose was a little big. "Wait what," she thought to herself. Then, for some strange reason, she felt her eyes graze over to her, Elsa she assumed. Not necessarily stunning, but she had a strange sort of natural beauty. Her hair looked messy, yet she still stood with certain poise, it was very…. "Attractive," Anna couldn't quite find the right phrasing within her mind. She shook her head softly, "definitely not that word."

And yet, she could feel her gaze linger for just a second longer as she turned her head. She made nothing of it.


Hello all, I've finally got a finished outline of where I want this story to go, so I'll definitely have updates at least every three days. Chapters are going to be slightly longer than this going forward and will occasionally be posted as pairs. If you like what you've seen so far, then stay tuned - Frigidpixel