A/N- I've decided to expand this into a series of one-shots about the life of Anna and Elsa together. Expect spontaneous updates.


chocolate weetabix


Elsa had never felt so nervous before in her life. Flushed and feeling sick, she pushed her bangs out of her eyes and looked at herself in the mirror. All her life she'd seen girls wearing school uniforms, and she'd wondered what their lives must be like. Now, seeing herself in the neat blazer and pleated skirt, she felt as though she was looking at someone else.

Even in the extra small size, though, it was baggy on her. And she'd no idea how on earth you were supposed to tie a tie. Her previous attempts only knotted the thing up like a cat's cradle. She looked at the piece of material in her hand. What exactly was the point of a tie, anyway?

The knock at the door startled her out of her skin. Her heart thudded in her chest. "Y-yes?" she said.

"Are you nearly ready yet Elsa?" It was her father's voice.

"Almost..." she said, looking at the knotted silky thing in desperation.

"Well come out and join us when you are. Gerda's got your breakfast ready."

Gerda? Who was Gerda? Her stepmother's name was Idun.

"Al-alright," she stammered, as she heard her father's footsteps retreating. But a new panic stirred in her heart. She'd yet to meet her stepmother. From what Anna said, she'd been so angry at Elsa moving in with them that she'd jetted off to spend the weekend sulking at some spa hotel place thing called Rejuvenation Palace. But late last night she'd heard doors slamming and an unfamiliar woman's voice.

Her hands fumbled the tie, which looked down now through cloudy eyes she saw she'd tied into another series of hopeless knots. A sob tried to force its way from her throat. It wasn't like she wanted to be here, either.

Elsa found herself sinking down into her bed, which she hadn't slept a wink on last night because it was so soft she'd felt like she was trying to sleep on a marshmallow.

I can't go out there. I just can't, she thought.

"Elsa?"

She started up. "Anna?"

The door opened without invitation. Anna stood there, her uniform customised with rainbow knee-length socks. Her pleated skirt, which on Elsa came to her knees, she'd rolled up and pinned with bobby pins so it reached mid-thigh. She wore the same, definitely not school standard, crushed down mary-janes, ruby red as Dorothy's. She looked at the mess Elsa had made of tying her tie, and she hid her giggle behind her hand.

"Omigod Elsa. Let me guess: you've never worn a tie before, have you?"

Silently, in humiliation, Elsa shook her head.

"Alright, just leave it to me. I'll show you," said Anna. And all of a sudden her sister was right up in her personal space, brow knotted in concentration as she worked out the mess Elsa had made. She was so close she could feel her warm breath on her neck. "Right, so you tie this bit first like this, right? And then you put this bit over this bit. Then you go through this bit-" she paused, frowning. Elsa's stomach churned uneasily. "That's not right. Okay. So you go through this bit- wait."

"Um," said Elsa.

"Okay so apparently this is a lot harder doing it this way round..." Anna said, scratching her head. And her eyes darted up from under her lashes. "Are you feeling alright? Your face is all red."

"I'm f-fine," Elsa said.

"Are you s-sure?" Anna replied, grinning. Elsa flushed a deeper red. Whenever she got nervous, it was like she lost control of her vocal cords. Words never came out right. And whenever people teased her for her stammer, it just made it worse.

"Sh-sh-shut-up," she said

"You sh-shut up," Anna said, smiling like it was a game. And Elsa saw red.

"Le-leave-me al-alone!" she yelled, shoving Anna away. "Get- get out!"

Anna's face fell. "Wait, what?" she said.

"I d-don't need you to-" she moved her mouth, but no sound came out. When it did, it came with a rush: "-to ma-make fun of me."

Anna looked shocked. "I wasn't trying to make fun of you... I was just teasing," she said.

"Tha-that's the exact s-same thing," said Elsa. She tried to stop the stammer. But as she knew all too well: the more she thought it about it, the worse it became.

Anna's hand went up to fiddle with her braid. "Geez. You're kind of overreacting."

"I'm n-not overreacting!" Elsa exclaimed.

"Girls?" their father stood in the doorway, looking between the two of them. They fell silent. "Your breakfast is getting cold, you know."

Silently, Elsa brushed past Anna and strode quickly out of the room.

In the breakfast room, the table was set immaculately with a lace white tablecloth and candelabra. Stood by the side with her hands folded across her blouse was an older woman. Elsa stopped dead. Her first thought: that this was her stepmother. And yet that didn't seem right.

"Miss Hall. I didn't know what you like for breakfast, so I cooked a traditional for you and there's continental as well. Or I could do you some toast if you'd prefer."

Elsa stood, flabbergasted. And the woman misunderstood her shock and smiled. "Forgive me. You must be wondering who I am. My name's Gerda. I'm housekeeper for the Andersons."

"Oh. I'm-"

"I know who you are, Miss Hall," Gerda said with a smile. "Please take a seat. What do you want to drink?"

"Um. Anything's fine..." she said

"If you tell her 'anything' Elsa, be warned that she's going to make you tea every time." It was her father. Looking smart in a dark suit, hair combed back, he sat down at the head of the table. He picked up the newspaper set at his place and with a wetted thumb set to perusing it.

"Tea's fine," said Elsa quickly. She relieved to hear the words leave her mouth all in order.

"At last. Someone in this house with good taste," said Gerda with warmth, vanishing into the kitchen.

Safely hidden behind the Daily Mail, Elsa stole a glance in her father's direction. What on earth was supposed to say to him? They all lied to us,the frontpage blared. Bosses exposed as cheats by union.

When Anna slipped into the seat next to her, she cast her eyes down.

"Did you get all your homework done?" the man behind the paper asked.

"Whatever," said Anna.

Elsa stared at the pale parts of her fingernails. In the corner of her eye, she saw Anna scrawling something in a pocket sized notebook.

When Gerda returned, she set down a plate of bacon and eggs and toast in front of her. Their father apparently only drank coffee for breakfast, looking dark and black as tar, which quickly vanished behind the tabloid. Anna had chocolate weetabix.

"I wish I could tempt you with something more healthy, Anna dear," Gerda sighed, as she thumped down her chocolate milkshake.

"Don't care," said Anna, mouth stuffed with weetabix. Gerda shook her head.

Picking up her knife and fork, Elsa stared at the food for a long moment.

"What's wrong honey? Do you not like fried food?" Gerda asked. "That's why I offered you a choice, you know."

Elsa shook her head quickly. "Oh, no, no! It... it looks delicious. Thank you."

She was startled to find a warm hand pressed to her shoulder. "I think I'm going to enjoy having you with us, Miss Hall," Gerda said. "Nice to hear a thank you for once," she said pointedly.

"Mmffthanks-gurrda," Anna said, with a mouth full of cereal.

Gerda made a noise of derision and headed towards the door. Anna looked at Elsa and shrugged, cereal on her cheek. Elsa quickly dropped her eyes to her food and started eating, cutting up her food into tiny bites. It really was delicious.

"Oh, Gerda. I was just looking for you. Have you seen my tylenol? I have the worst headache." A stranger's voice. And Elsa turned in her seat to see a starlet.

Or at least, what she thought was a starlet. The woman wore a mauve bathrobe, her brown hair up in pink hair rollers, her face smeared with some kind of cream she was still in the process of rubbing in. Even then, she was beautiful. She looked like a creature from another world.

Her father put his paper down. "Honey, you're up early," he said.

Elsa saw her completely blank him and stride over to Anna and put her arms around her. She squeezed her tight.

"Geroff, Mum," Anna grumbled against the embrace, still stuffing her face with breakfast. "You're getting cream all over me."

"I take it you're still not talking to me, Idun," said their father.

Idun squeezed Anna tighter. "Anna, please tell your father for me I don't intend to speak to him for a year," she said lightly.

"You're being childish Idun," said their father.

"Anna, please tell your father that though I may be childish, at least I don't have affairs with other women. Or bring their bastard children into my house."

Elsa set down her knife and fork. She'd gone off her breakfast.

Anna shoved her mother off her with her elbow. "Go tell him yourself," she said, shovelling down the rest of her cereal. Without looking at her, she thrust a scrap of paper to Elsa across the table and continued eating.

Elsa picked it up. It was torn from Anna's notebook, written in purple gel pen.

Sorry, it said.