Summary: Elsa has a panic attack. Anna calms her down.

The Spring Festival.

It had been an annual tradition in Arendelle until the gates closed. They had hosted many kingdoms, held enjoyable events and welcomed kings, queens and villagers alike, all over the course of a week.

When Elsa had told Anna that the Spring Festival had been re-instituted, the younger woman had all but crushed Elsa's lungs in the hug she had promptly pulled her into, before running off to tell Kristoff. And Elsa had smiled at her sister's retreating figure, but the joy she had felt was short-lived because there were other parts of the Festival; parts that brought her nothing but fear. The people, the ball, and the dance that the Queen was required to participate in—

"Queen Elsa?"

Elsa blinked. Then she remembered that she was in the middle of a meeting about the Spring Festival with a room full of men that found her incapable of running a kingdom. And of course, her mind just had to wander off. She tried to locate the source of the inquiry, but they were all staring at her just as intently as their counterparts.

Elsa cleared her throat.

Someone spoke up.

"There will be a lot of people, Your Majesty. Do you think that you will be able to handle that?"

Before Elsa could find that person — there were so many of them — another one said, "And then there is the ball. Of course, you would have to dance with potential suitors."

They were ganging up on her.

Another one started to say something, but Elsa couldn't hear him because the cold in her palms had her trying to regain her composure. And then the tingling in her fingertips had her excusing herself. The journey up the stairs had her breathing labored, but not from the exertion of climbing the winded, spiral staircase. The snowflake that landed on her cheek had her chanting her mantra under her breath, which frosted and clouded before her in the wintry air that she had unintentionally created.

Conceal, don't feel. Conceal, don't feel.

Her bedroom door finally creeping its way into her line of sight did little to alleviate the sheer panic bubbling in her throat, threatening to explode. Snow thudded and throbbed in her ears and temples. Icicles burst behind her eyes.

Don't feel. Don't feel.

But the ice— it didn't stop. It didn't feel. It only wanted to conquer; sprouting and spreading from underneath her heels. Every wobbly and unsteady step she took— she had to think about it, left, right, then left again — had her body growing heavier, and her legs becoming weaker. It was by pure luck, a miracle, that she made it inside her room before it overcame her and took control.

The ice.

It forced her fingers to unfold from her palms and shot from her from her frigid fingertips. Crept up and cracked— destroying and entrapping anything and everything in its wake. It was merciless— the walls, the floor, the bed, the window, the window seat. Taken hostage, seized, and murdered in cold blood.

The world moved in shadows, shapes and blobs; black and white. Too fast, too fast, too fast! It felt like everything was passing her by.

Conceal, don't feel. Conceal, don't feel. Don't feel, don't feel, don'tdon'tdon't…

The more she told herself not to —"There will be a lot of people." — think about it, — "Of course, you would have to dance with potential suitors." — the more it just wouldn't — "…potential suitors…" — STOP!

…please. Stop. Don't feel. Stop…

With everything that was happening, she shouldn't — couldn't, for it was impossible — have felt…

Heat.

Warmth, fire, tropical, strawberries, the sun. Bright, and entrancing… comforting. It left her dazed yet strangely — wrongly — relaxed. Something that radiated heat pressed against her side. She could only vaguely feel it among the chaffing of the cold that, ironically, burned her skin. It was around her waist, too. Strong.

Then she heard it. Soft, soothing, providing solace. It thrust its way into her subconscious, shoving aside, "There will be a lot of people", and decimating, "…potential suitors…"

Then, all at once, she realized—

Anna.

And the panic grew. But only briefly, because some words finally broke through—

"It's okay, Elsa. You're okay."

A gentle whisper in her ear calmed the howling snowstorm raging inside of her.

"Everything is okay."

The meaning behind the words, they shattered the icicles. The clouds grew light and lifted into the air. She could see the sky— a beautiful, baby blue.

"There they are."

Her eyes; they must have been closed, because she opened them. And was staring straight back into another pair— teal and swimming with affection.

Elsa was being cradled now. Anna had her arm wrapped behind her shoulders, the other arm's hand cupping her cheek, wiping away tears Elsa didn't realize were falling. The chill vanished with each gentle and soft swipe. Gradually, with each tear that was swept away, the ice waned and lost its power.

It was dethroned.

"Now, you don't have to tell me," Anna started slowly, carefully. Elsa realized that she was actually, for the first time ever, processing her words before she spoke. "But I think that it will help if you tell me why you're so upset. But you don't have to."

And then, "...potential suitors…" — it came back. But Anna's, "It's okay, Elsa," returned as well. And it was stronger.

The words, they didn't come. Not at first. The frosty air had dried Elsa's mouth and froze her tongue in place, but she fought against it. Because, "Everything's okay," and "You don't have to tell me" were strong, too. Especially since Anna wanted to know what had happened so badly— Elsa could see it in her sister's eyes.

And talking, it did help, she had come to learn. Especially to other people. To Anna.

"I…I can't." Not a great start, because Anna jumped right on it. Pounced.

"That's okay, Elsa. You don't have to tell me."

And then Elsa was shaking her head. Because it wasn't okay. She did have to tell Anna. And… she wanted to.

"No," Elsa choked out. "I do. It does help." Her voice was but a hoarse and scratchy whisper; raw with emotion. Fear, panic, a little anger… love.

"Don't strain yourself, okay? You don't have to tell me now. Later, alright?"

And Elsa was okay with that, because the panicking had worn her out. She was exhausted; limbs heavy, shoulders drooping with the weight of the world and the council members' words. Even sitting up was a chore.

Anna must have sensed that. She tried to stand and pull Elsa up with her, but an involuntary and undignified whine passed the older woman's lips, coming from deep within her sore throat.

"Oh, Elsa," Anna whispered, chuckled; a smile in her voice. "Okay, we'll stay here." Anna scooted back — Elsa clung to the fabric of her sister's dress after that initial, unexpected jerk backwards — until she was situated against the wall by the door.

Fatigue pulled at Elsa's eyelids. They slipped closed, and the fingers that gently wove through her hair accelerated the process. Sleep came easily, because—

"It's okay, Elsa."

"Everything's okay."

And a new one.

"I love you, Elsa."

The talking came later. Much later.

Things came to Anna in bits and pieces as she lifted out of the fog of sleep.

First, the events of the previous day. Elsa. The panic attack. The ice. Falling asleep on the floor. And then Anna realized that her head didn't hurt and her back wasn't stiff. Her head should have been sore and her back should have ached, though, if she had really slept on the floor.

It registered in her mind then that she was comfortable, and warm; her back wasn't being met with a hard wall, but a soft and flexible surface— a mattress. She opened her eyes to see that there were covers and sheets tucked around her. Elsa's covers and sheets.

"Good morning."

Anna started. Then sat up and looked to where the voice came from. Sitting at the window seat was Elsa; the morning sun creating a beautiful backdrop, illuminating her sister's form. Elsa looked… otherworldly.

Wow, Anna thought. I really should try waking up earlier. The sunrise is gorgeous.

Elsa sipped at a mug held tightly in both hands. Her morning tea, Anna assumed, because she could see the steam wafting in front of her sister's nose.

"Why am I in your bed?"

A simple, "Good morning," in response would have sufficed. But Anna, being Anna, wasn't able to hold her tongue. Not until it really mattered.

But Elsa just took another sip, and said, "I couldn't let you sleep on the floor all night."

"All night?" And even though it had already been established that it was morning — the sunrise and Elsa's, "Good morning." — Anna still found that hard to believe. When she had found Elsa in the midst of her panic attack, it had been noon. To learn that she had slept not only until night, but through the night, left Anna confused. Had she really been that drained? Had Elsa?

"I guess that we were both just really tired." There was a teasing undertone in Elsa's voice.

Anna missed it. "But how did I get in your bed?"

"Kai helped. I guess that he was concerned as well. Came up to check on me as soon as he could. He found us and put you in my bed."

As Anna threw off the covers, stepped out of bed — her shoes had been removed; was that Kai or Elsa? — and moved to the window seat to sit beside her sister, she couldn't help but think about Elsa's tea.

It smelled sweet, sure, but the scent was deceitful because Elsa liked her tea bitter. And Anna knew that because she had tasted it. Just once! But how could she not? The aroma had been so inviting and invigorating. But the taste? It left her scrubbing her tongue.

Anna thought about the tea because it was easier. Easier than thinking about the panic attack. About how Elsa had looked so small. How frightened she had been. About the ice.

Because how could she bring it up? How? When Elsa was so calm and poised and actually okay at the moment. It just wouldn't be fair to Elsa, even though Anna only wanted to know what had happened so that she could help her sister.

"Anna." Elsa lowered her mug, capturing Anna's attention. "I'm ready." Faint, yet resolute.

"Oh." Anna didn't know quite how to respond, but she recovered quickly. "Well, I'm here. I'm here to listen."

Elsa took in a deep breath, and exhaled. "The Spring Festival," she stated, and winced. "I-I shouldn't… I'm sorry—"

"Don't apologize." Anna surprised herself. Her tone was harsher than she had intended, but her heart was in the right place. "You have nothing to be sorry for."

Elsa's eyes met hers. She nodded, and continued. "The whole thing just has me worried. The people… there's going to be so many of them."

And then Anna felt guilty. She had been so excited about the Spring Festival that she had failed to realize what it would mean for Elsa. "Well we don't have to have the Festival." Because Elsa was worth it. Elsa was more important. "It's fine if we don't."

"No, Anna. It's too late to call it off and...it isn't just that. The Council—they're relentless."

Anna already knew that Elsa was talking about them pressuring her to find someone. Her sister had confided that to her. They didn't believe in Elsa like she did. Like they should.

"If I may ask." Anna wasn't sure if she should ask, but did anyway. "Why don't you just tell them that you aren't ready?"

"Because…" Elsa sighed. She sounded weary. "It's just not that easy."

"I can do it for you," Anna offered.

"No…"

Anna saw it, then. The beginning of another panic attack. Her sister's fingers trembled; the steam disappeared, crackling could be heard. Her eyes closed. Then Anna placed a hand on Elsa's shoulder, and the crackling stopped.

"I'll be there with you during the Festival. The whole time. I won't leave you."

The steam didn't come back, but Anna smelled it. She involuntarily wrinkled her nose.

Elsa laughed. It was soft, it was light, it didn't hold all the warmth that it could possibly hold, but it was something.

"I know you tasted my tea."

The drink worked as a good distraction for Elsa, too, apparently.

Anna scoffed, and rolled her eyes, but laughed as well. Instead of denying it, she replied, "How can you drink that stuff?"

And Elsa laughed again. It was getting there.

Anna made the mistake of hoping, of grinning and joking back, because it hurt that much more when Elsa's eyes lost their glow and returned their gaze to the mug as she placed it on the floor.

"Promise you won't leave me?"

She sounded so young, so terrified, and, despite herself, Anna smiled. "I promise." And she meant it. "Anyone gives you a hard time, they have to answer to me." She meant that, too.

Elsa looked at Anna. Their eyes met again, Elsa's pleading. And Anna knew just what she wanted. "Come here." She opened her arms and Elsa all but fell into them, but not before a slight hesitation— to which Anna responded by holding her sister that much closer.

"Thank you," Elsa whispered.

"You don't have to thank me. I love you."

Because love.

"I love you, too."

Love was always the answer.

A comfortable silence washed over the two. Elsa tucked her head under the younger woman's chin. Anna breathed in Elsa's scent— fresh snow and lavender — because she didn't want to forget it ever again. And even for someone who liked to talk as much as she did, Anna didn't mind the silence, which made it all the more difficult to break. There was just something nagging at her.

"Elsa? Just one question?"

"Hm?"

Is the Spring Festival for me?

"How did you know that I tasted your tea?"

"I watched you spit it out on the floor."

Anna chuckled nervously. "Yeah, well, it shouldn't have assaulted my taste buds."

The silence came back, then—

An unladylike snort that, surprisingly, did not come from Anna. She felt Elsa's body shake with mirth as the older woman sat up and tried to contain her laughter behind a delicate hand. Key word being tried, because it wasn't working.

Anna couldn't help but grin and join in, because she made Elsa do that. And because her sister's laugh, her real laugh, with all of its warmth and life and love was perfect.

Snort and all.

I apologize if there's no such tea out there that smells sweet, but is actually bitter. I know nothing about tea, except for the iced kind.

Also, I know that this probably feels a bit... incomplete, to say the least. The main focus of this one-shot was supposed to be Elsa's panic attack, and then I made up the whole thing about the Spring Festival, and now I might have to write a one-shot about that. If you guys want to see that, let me know.

Until next time...