Chapter Two: Song of a Caged Bird

Having wandered into the world of dreams and fantasies, the princess found herself dancing with the prince of the frost trolls. The ballroom was pleasantly chilled and sparkled with silvery moonlight streaming from up above. She grinned, watching it dapple over her deep emerald grown as she spun, furling and unfurling.

Furling and unfurling

It was just like she'd always imagined.

Only, he looked nothing like she thought a frost troll would. He was tall for one, towering above her so that the top of her head – piled hair excluded –only came to the middle of his brawny chest.

His very brawny, very human chest.

She was instantly curious, giddy energy making her bound through the waltz they danced. The prince, her prince, was human?! Just wait until she told Heidi, Klara, and Margrethe!

The princess tilted her head back to say something to his face – obviously his face. What else was she supposed to talk to? Not his chest. A chest didn't talk back. Unless you counted his heart. The steady bub-bump, bub-bump, bub-bump. He probably had a very nice heart too, if the lines of his muscles beneath his silken dress shirt were anything to go by – and her light, blue-green eyes widened, her heart-shaped mouth forming a silent O.

"You should probably close your mouth." Kristoff suggested, twirling her in a circle. She dipped under his arms, still gaping at him like an addle-brained idiot. "Wouldn't want to catch flies."

"Kristoff?" Anna sputtered, peering up at him in wonder, for the first time noticing how his dark blonde hair glinted metallic in the cool light of the brilliant crystal chandeliers overhead. She'd never seen him look so handsome, so different from the usual rugged, unshaven –

"What are you doing here? You're not supposed to be here." Dang it, did she ever think before she spoke? "What I mean is that I'm glad you're here, but you're not supposed to be here here. Dancing. With me. Not that you're bad dancer – you're actually really good. How did you – never mind. That doesn't matter. Wait, how did you even get here –" Her nose wrinkled as it caught an unfamiliar whiff of…was that? No, it couldn't be.

"Uh, Kristoff?" She asked carefully, resisting the urge to bury her face into his chest. That would be weird. But he smelled quite good. Incredible. "Are you wearing…cologne?"

"Uh Anna?" Anna scowled at his perfect imitation of her voice. "Are you going to get to the point? Cuz now would be a good time. The dance is almost over and Elsa's gonna be ending the party soon."

"But I that's not fair! I just got here and," she'd have crossed her arms if they hadn't been occupied with holding on to Kristoff, "and you didn't answer my quest– Right. The point!" Why was she suddenly so nervous? This was Kristoff. Her friend. Her best friend. There was nothing weird between them. Nothing at all.

Then what were the sparks running up and down her spine from where his hand dwarfed her waist at the small of her back. What was – nope. She wasn't going to over think this. Clearly the apprehension of meeting her prince, her real prince, and forever true love was going to her head.

"So. Anna. The point of this conversation?"

Anna snapped out her introspection, rolling her eyes.

"It's just, I'm supposed to be dancing with my prince and, no offense Kristoff, but you're not exactly a prince. Not that you don't look like a prince – you look absolutely gorgeous. I –" Her rambling lips halted and, blinking rapidly, Anna felt her cheeks grow pink. "Wait, what?"

Anna, what was that?!

Now she'd done it. Now she'd ruined the dance. Kristoff's cheeks flushed bright red, except he was also smiling. His honey brown eyes softening from their usual brusqueness.

"Really? You think so?" He said, rather smug.

"Oh my gosh, I'm sorry! I didn't mean it like that– well, actually I –"

The clocks suddenly tolled all at once and someone from behind called her name.

"Princess Anna?"

Kristoff vanished, in his place a snowman.

"Hi!" The lumpy white figure clapped his arms er…branches…together. Right. "I'm Olaf!"

"O-Olaf?" Oh, what was going on?

A herd of sheep proceeded to march into the ball room.

Dressed in her mother's pearls.

What?

"Anna? I mean, uh – Princess Anna?"

Mellow snores escaped the girl's gaping mouth as she was drawn into reality like cool water from a well. Raised arm cradling her head, limp and tangled in a rat's nest of hair. Drool slopping from her mouth and rolling down her cheek and forming a damp patch on her fluffy pink pillow.

A succession of three sharp raps from elsewhere.

"Princess Anna?"

"Hu-unnh?" She groaned, aware of the atrocious light beyond her eyelids. "Yeah, coming Kristoff. Wait…wait for me." Muttering incoherently, sluggishly rolling over, Anna shoved her sagging body upward, suspended between her arms of pudding, sitting, but slowly sinking into the fluffiness of her mattress. Miscellaneous quilts, rosy, mossy, buttery, tangled around her legs.

Mmmmm. So warm… Her eyes remained glued shut. Too heavy, too thick.

"Uh Princess Anna?"

"Yeah?" Cocking her head to the side she wondered aloud, "Kai? Oh, ImeanMisterBjorgoman…" Anna's words slurred together as she swiped at a tress of hair caught in her mouth, spitting the clinging strands from her tongue. "Good morning." She let her head fall back and beamed blindly at the ceiling. She'd always liked Kristoff's father. Such a darling man. Just like his wonderful son…

"Um…good morning…? And uh, no ma'am. I'm not Mr. Bjorgoman. Now if you –"

"Oh. Hi! I'm Anna. And I like warm…warm," her chin dropped to her chest, "…hugs. Wh-what's your name?" New people. She liked meeting new people. They were so… new.

"Uh, Peder, miss –ma'am – I ah mean Peder Rasmus. Mr. Rasmus. Er, I'm so sorry to wake you but –"

"No no no no." Her hand slowly dropped, swabbing the collar of her nightgown. Yawning, she drooped forward, nesting her cheek in her palm. "I've been up for hours." The warm dark fuzziness deepened and the world drifted away as she approached the shores of sleep. Squinting, she could just make out her boat, bobbing merrily in the waves. She waved to her friends swimming about in the water that lapped deliciously cool at her bare toes. Closer and closer and –

Her head slipped, thunking into her kneecaps. Straight as a ramrod, if only for a moment, Anna jolted upward, a startled snort abruptly ending her snore.

"Who is it?!" Why was it so early?

A prolonged silence before…

"Ur, uh it's still me. Ma'am." Eyelids fluttering, she scrubbed the heels of her palms into her cheeks, her eyes, pulling her shoulder's back – joints popping – Mmmmm. That felt good.

"The gates will open soon." Stretching her arms into her mass of waves, pulling her fingers through.

"It's time to get ready."

"Oh right, of course. It's… it's time to get ready." Her arms fell back to the mattress and her shoulders slouched, determined to send her back to the boat and its kindly old ferry man. They always had the nicest of conversations.

And yet, Anna was curious. Nothing new ever happened around here. Tilting her ear towards the door, Anna asked,

"Ready for what?"

"Your sister's coronation?" Peder's stammering voice was upturned in question. Should she know this? She thought she should. Someone surely must have said something about this. Didn't they? She was almost certain they did.

"My sister's c-coneration…" Losing hope that she'd be returning to the island of dreams, Anna opened her eyes, just enough to bear up against the sunshine. The light was – well, it was actually quite lovely, cheerful and yellow – but not at this time of –

The thought fizzled out as her gaze fell upon the most beautiful ball gown she'd ever seen. Black bodice, trim with gold cording, embroidered with deep pink and emerald. Swooping pine green sleeves, trimmed with lace. And the skirt – oh, the skirt – full, gloriously full and long and sweeping and perfect for spinning. Ebony satin polonaise drawn back in flounces, revealing an underskirt striped with a pretty olive and the palest sea foam green. Patterned with little sprigs of cherry.

Coronation…

Anna gasped, eyes snapping wide, and a little zing barreling though her limbs.

"It's coronation day!" Throwing her blankets back she flew from the mattress, springs in her toes and that fluttery bit in her heart. "Oh my gosh, oh my gosh, oh my gosh! It's coronation day!"

She raced to the window, tossing the fuchsia shades aside, and pressed her nose into the glass, grinning wide. It was perfect, absolutely, positively perfect. Sun-streaming, birds-singing, people – actual real live people! – perfect!

Anna squealed, giving a little jump, a glissade, a pirouette with a little too much bounce. She stumbled, somehow managing to regain her feet by sinking into a plié.

"Whoa, whoa, okay." Clutching the sill she whispered, "Calm down there Anna. You have to be graceful today. Like a lady. So uh –" She relaxed her giddy smile into a serene expression, threw her shoulders back and sashayed over to her mirror. "Commencing serious, elegant princess…now!"

She hadn't meant to. Really. The unbecoming chortle that escaped her wasn't something that a serious, elegant princess (her sister being the prime example of such longed-for perfectness…well, that's what Anna thought Elsa- uh Princess Elsa – would be like. She hadn't talked to her, much less seen her sister in thirteen years so... eldest sisters and eldest princesses and queens were supposed to be like that. Perfect.) would do.

But most serious, elegant princesses (again, Princess Elsa – Yes! I finally remembered her title – being the model every princess should strive for) didn't so closely resemble Medusa or any of her gorgon sisters – Oh, what are their names? Zeno and Eurydice? No...Stheno. Yes! Stheno and Eury- Euryale! – at eight o'clock in the morning – was it even eight o'clock in the morning? – and so, clapping both hands over her mouth, Anna burst out laughing. Who was she kidding? Perfection wasn't in her vocabulary. It wasn't going to happen.

Still giggling she kicked out her feet and skipped back to the dress.

Snatching a discarded hairbrush from her battered vanity, Anna worked on tugging it through her snarled waves. Unable to help herself, she began singing under her breath the words of an old village folksong.

"Ole, oleanna, ole, oleanna

ole, ole, ole, ole, ole, oleanna…"

She traced her bare feet across the floor, spinning in quick circles. A forceful yank, a sharp wrench and her hair began to whip around her face in silky –if slightly frizzy – tendrils.

"Oh to be in Oleanna,

That's where I'd like to be

Than to be in Norway

And bear the chains of slavery."

Anna could agree with the last bit. For too long she'd been a slave to these palace walls, a slave to popular opinion. That she was the extra, overlooked sister; the spare princess.

She could be something important. She knew she could.

Except she didn't want to leave her beautiful Norway.

No.

"In Oleanna land is free

The wheat and corn just plant themselves

Then grow a good four feet a day

While on your bed you rest yourself!"

Today, Oleanna would be coming to them. She'd barely been able to contain herself since it'd been announced that Elsa – Princess Elsa – was allowing them to have a ball in honor for her coronation.

A ball!

Anna tossed her hairbrush in the general direction of her bed, the clunking, skidding sound announcing that she, in fact, had missed. Her sister had actually a-okayed a ball! With minsters and dignitaries and dukes and duchesses and princes and princesses and town's folk! Anyone and everyone was invited. It was so…surreal.

Anna grinned.

Surreal. That was a great new word. They hadn't had a ball in… well, ever.

They'd never had a ball.

"Beer as sweet as muncheners

Springs from the ground and flows away

The cows all like to milk themselves

And the hens lay eggs ten times a day."

Stripping from her frayed, but oh-so-angel-soft nightgown, Anna snatched up her corset hanging haphazardly from her changing screen. Sliding it up to her waist, adjusting her chemise and bloomers that had ridden up with her skirts, Anna cinched the ties until her thin figure miraculously produced curves and she could feel her heart beat in her stomach.

"Little roasted piggies

Rush around the city streets

Inquiring so politely

If a slice of ham you'd like to eat."

Braiding, twisting, pinning, her hair piled up up up, held back with a small jeweled comb streaming with bright green ribbons. A fluffing of the braid to hold her bangs in place; a makeshift head band.

"The women there do all the work

As round the fields they quickly go

Each one has a hickory stick

And beats herself if she works too slow."

Her gown settled around her waist effortlessly, buttons done up the back. Hugging her hips and bust.

Stockings drawn up the curves of her calves. Delicate black slippers slipped on.

"Aye, if you begin to live

To Oleanna you must go

The poorest wench in Norway

Becomes a duke in a year or so."

A dab of kohl to define her eyes, extenuating long lashes. A swipe to rid a bothersome smudge. A dusting of rose to her cheeks. A smidgen of rouge to her thin lips, the cherry pink color bringing out their fullness. Hopefully.

"Ole, oleanna, ole, oleanna

ole, ole, ole, ole, ole, oleanna!"

And stop.

The song, the music ends.

Hold yourself still and breathless. Heart beats fast.

Curtsy. Feet twisting under skirt. Disappear in a great poof of crinolines.

Pause.

Rise.

Take a deep breath.

And look.

Anna posed in front of the mirror, attempting a smoldering expression that utterly failed when combined with a multitude of freckles and that strange streak of blonde.

So much like her sister's.

But the dress… the sleeves dripped off her shoulders, the embroidery tapering at her waist and flaring out into the expanse of the polonaise. The green brought out the sea-colored flecks in her eyes and contrasted with the strawberry hue of her hair.

But she wasn't beautiful.

Girls like her; short, thin, and perpetually childlike, would never be described as beautiful.

She could be described as pretty.

Merely pretty.

Her eyes were shining, figure shapely enough, freckles somewhat paled, somewhat classy, hair maybe elegant and so…so French-like – she'd always admired the French hairstyles and fancy dresses that she could never afford.

There were lots of things she couldn't afford.

Jewelry to cover her unfashionably bare throat. Colored powders to dust across her eyelids. New books to replace the tattered excuses of ones – poor things – in the library.

Her sister's love.

"But today I'm going to change that." Anna told her reflection in a whisper, leaning close. "Today we're – I'm going to show Elsa that I haven't forgotten everything. And neither have Kristoff or Marius. Today is the first day of the rest of our lives. We'll be best friends. And somehow I'll get Elsa and Marius to fall madly in love and I'll meet my prince and we'll have a double wedding. Kristoff…"

Anna-in-the-mirror regarded her perplexedly. Where did Kristoff fit in to any of this? She couldn't imagine him married, though Marius assured her he did in fact like this one girl. Must be awfully special to catch his attention. Beautiful and graceful and…

Her image was frowning now.

"What?"

You don't like the idea of Kristoff married to anybody. Her subconscious quipped.

"So? Why can't I be picky about who Kristoff marries. It's an incredibly important decision and if he chooses the wrong girl he'll be miserable for the rest of his life."

Is that really what you think? Sure you're not a tinsy tiny bit jealous?

"Me? Jealous? That's…so stupid. Of course I'm not jealous. Kristoff's just a friend."

Didn't seem you were thinking that in that lovely dream of yours. Ooooo. She had a point. Saints above her subconscious was evil. Evil!

Seems to me that you rather liked dancing with him. Or him holding you in those arms of his. That your pick.

"I think I'll pretend you didn't say that."

Why? What's wrong in admitting that you like him?

"I'm not listening you anymore."

That's because you know it's true.

"Hush up. Now."

She didn't have time to figure out this new development. For the last few months all her energies had been focused on how she could play matchmaker with Marius and Elsa. She'd never told anybody but she had it all figured out. Elsa clearly needed someone like Marius and Marius needed someone whose name didn't start with "I" and ended in "Ulia".

Iulia was…rather amazing.

"Amazing taken anyway I want." Anna muttered, pulling a face she longed to make at Lord Fenrir's very interesting daughter.

Which was why Elsa and Marius together… a mischievous grin crossed her face and Anna, excitement bubbling over, gave another squeal and turned to her door, racing.

"It's coronation da – Ow!" With a yelp, Anna sprang back, toes smarting from where she stubbed them against – so that's where she'd put her copy of Grimm's! She'd been looking everywhere for it!

"Your Highness! Is everything alright?"

Peder was still here? How embarrassing!

She scooped up the tome, grunting with its weight and flipped through the pages, momentarily lost in pictures of dashing princes astride rearing horses and flawless damsels just waiting to be rescued and share in true love's kiss. Anna sighed dreamily, drawing the pages to her chest. True love's kiss…

Flashes of a man, tall, broad and strapping filled her head. Overlong blonde hair hung in front of eyes the color of the purest honey. Squared jaw, rough cheeks defined with darkened stubble.

Saints help her, she was blushing.

Told you so. A little voice snickered in her head.

"Is something wrong?" Peder knocked on the door, evidently quite worried. "Should I fetch a guard? Or maid? Or…something?"

"No!" Gaze flicking away from the current picture – two girls, sisters, clambering over a huge bear – to address the door, Anna hurriedly explained, "No no no no! I'm fine. Totally fine. No need to worry. Nope, not at all. I'm good. Great. Actually I'm amazing! What time is it? Did I oversleep? I can't believe I overslept! It's coronation day Peder. Can I call you Peder?"

"Er, I guess you could, but–"

"Oh wonderful! Can you believe it Peder? Elsa's – I uh mean Princess Elsa's getting crowned queen and the gates are opening and – oh my gosh, was I supposed to get her a present?!" Slapping her forehead, Anna frantically looked around her room.

There had to be something…

"It's not her birthday or anything but for her coronation– I can't believe I didn't think of this sooner – What am I going to–" She glanced down at the illustration, the sisters holding hands, walking through a wood. "The book! Grimm's! Elsa – gah, Princess Elsa, I gotta remember that. What do you think Peder?"

"Erm, I don't think I'm qualified –" Sighing, Anna placed the book on a spare chair, wringing her hands.

"No, you're right. She already has books. It has to be something with… oomph, you know?"

"I – I don't really know what you're talking about Miss. What is it that you need?"

"I don't want –" Anna shook her head, suddenly remembering those soft skills – she was still at a lost to why they were called that – Minister Grigori Karmichael (christened Grig by those close to him)– a friend, tutor, and pastor all wrapped up into one – had been talking about. Though said kindly, he'd pointed out that when she talked, all her words came out jumbled together and heavens! – a favorite phrase of his – it wasn't at all like a princess should be. He was right of course. Heavens! – to quote her dear mentor – her very thoughts were so jumbled she could barely make sense of them herself. And she really really needed to work on that.

So Anna –taking Grig's advice – took deep breath. Paused.

Think about other people's feelings. She bit her lip, just a tad embarrassed – she liked that word; tad. It was so…oh, never mind. Focus your mind. She practically dumped all her life's troubles on this man she'd known for five seconds.

"Nothing. Just thinking aloud. You do that, right? Am I talking too much Peder? I wouldn't want to bother you."

Practice. This was practice. She'd learn from all the blunders she'd made on Peder and show everyone else she was a charming, endearing –

"You're not talking too much Your High–"

"Oh good!" Dang it, she cut him off again.

Let people finish their own sentences. They're perfectly capable of it. They don't need your help to move them along Miss. Anna Katrina Edeline. She could practically hear Grig's patient, lilted tones.

Though things did tend to move along much faster when she did. She usually refrained from pointing that out. Usually.

"Er, sorry again." Grig wasn't the only one either. "Kristoff and Marius always say that I– wait, have you seen them yet?"

Important things first. Enunciate your words.

"Are they here? I have to see them. We going to –" Don't ramble. Only say what you mean to say. Not a word more. "Um, never mind that – have you?"

Wait, he probably didn't understand any of that. Focus Anna.

"Seen them I mean. Kristoff Bjorgman and Captain Marius Thorn obviously. Just in case you didn't know. Everybody knows them, but just in case you didn't. Not that you don't. I'm sure you do because you're here…what I mean to say is that if you're in the palace you kinda have to know who the servants and people are. Kristoff and Marius aren't servants though. Not technically. Actually Kristoff maybe, but I'd never tell him that. You know –?" Out of breath for a moment, Anna realized her error. She tried not to wince.

Ugh. That was painful Anna. Elsa –Princess! You were doing so well with that –Princess Elsa would never babble endlessly. Just pretend you're her…besides the shutting people out and refusing to see them for thirteen–

"Uh, no ma'am, I'm sorry, but I haven't seen them. Should I fetch them for you?"

You're not supposed to think about that. Today is about second chances and new beginnings. She probably has a great reason for what she did. And she'll tell you why because she wants to be sisters too. You'll see. At least, Anna really really really hoped she would.

"Miss? Princess?"

"What? Oh, no. No, you don't have to do that. I'll find them myself." To be honest, this was starting to get awkward. Not that Peder was awkward. She was awkward. Goodness she was so awkward.

"Um…thanks for," what? Waking her up? That sounded…awkward. "For…for telling me – for announcing that the gates will be opening soon." That sounded regal. "If you see Kris – Mr. Bjorgman or Captain Thorn, please tell them I'll meet them in the kitchens."

"I was told I was to escort you to –" Anna laughed.

"I know this place like the back of my hand. I don't need to be escorted anywhere."

"But –"

"Really, it's fine. You probably have much more important things to do than escort me places."

"Well, I –"

"Besides, if anyone says anything, I'm the princess. Well not the princess. That's my sister. But you get the idea. If I say its fine, then it's fine. Trust me."

"If you say so ma'am but –"

"Go Peder." With a giggle, she went on. "And that's an order, mister."

"Oh! Yes ma'am – Princess Anna! Oh course Princess Anna. I'll go right this minute. Sorry to bother you." Peder's babbling faded with his footsteps as he hurried down the corridor.

Oh drat it all. I didn't mean it like that!

"Ped – Mr. Rasmus wait!" Anna called, running to her door and throwing it open. Peder – nervous little squirrel of a man – was nowhere to be seen. "Oh for all the saints above!"

What could be seen though, quite obviously, was a serving girl. Frowning as she took in Anna's rich gown and bare head –contrary to popular opinion, only the crowned princess wore a tiara. Hooking her thumb in his general direction Anna shrugged.

"Can you believe it? He actually thought I was giving him an order! As if I would order anybody to do anything." Her eyes narrowed. "Well maybe if I really needed something and I couldn't do it myself or if the kingdom was in mortal peril." Smile bursting at its seams, Anna marched over to the girl, sticking out her hand. The girl's gaze dropped to her wriggling fingers, still staring, though not offering hers in a handshake. Clearing her throat as a prompt, Anna grasped the girl's hand, shaking it with much enthusiasm.

"Hi! I mean hello! It's so nice to meet you. I'm Anna. What's your name?"

"Ylva?" Why did everyone only answer her questions with questions? Wasn't anybody sure of anything? They needed to be more confident.

"Oh my gosh, that's such a pretty name. Sometimes I wish my name wasn't Anna. Something like Viktoria or Helena. Anna's so common and simple, though I guess it's easy for people to remember. I wouldn't want to be Princess Hildegarde or something else no one can remember. Or pronounce. Personally I think Hildegarde sounds like a sneeze. But that doesn't matter right now because it's coronation day and… and I'm just so excited!"

Anna let go of Ylva's limp hand, only to grab both a moment later, spinning the girl in a circle. Releasing a very bemused and dizzy Ylva, Anna whirled in a couple circles of her own, laughing as her skirt flared out like a pinwheel around her knees. Laughing harder as she caught Ylva's somewhat horrified expression. She must be thinking that the youngest princess was a complete mad woman.

Which she could be. It was definitely a possibility.

"You're not Princess Elsa?" Cinnamon brown eyes blinking in utter confusion under her wide-brimmed bonnet, the maid continued to stare. She was perhaps two or three years younger than Anna and clearly wasn't caught up with the appearances of royal family members. Not that Anna could really blame her.

"Princess Elsa? Me?" Pausing her dancing long enough to gesture at herself, Anna shook her head. "Gosh, thanks…but um no. It's just me. Anna. Princess Anna actually. You know, the other princess. I'm sure you've heard of me?"

Please have heard of me. Please please please please please!

Ylva nodded slowly.

"Yes." She drew out the word, biting the inside of her cheek, forming an indent in her round face. "It's just I was really hoping to…" she ducked her head, words ceasing as red crossed her tanned cheeks.

"You were hoping to meet my sister." Anna guessed, not even trying to keep the disappointment from the voice she always tried to keep so winsome and chipper. Why did she even bother keeping her hopes up?

Not part of the town. Not born to be queen. Just somebody hopelessly in between. That's me. The spare.

Leaning on her door, Anna forced her tone somewhere high and chirpy.

"I…I think she's in the West Wing. But no one's allowed to go there so…You'll probably see her at her coronation ceremony. That's when I'll be seeing her I think. Kristoff and Marius too –" Her head snapping up, Ylva gasped.

"You know Kristoff Bjorgman?!"

Anna wasn't so sure she liked the enraptured glow in the Ylva's eyes. Since when did Kristoff make anybody's eyes glow? That had always been Marius, with his charm and wit and uncanny hotness. Sure Kristoff was good-looking, handsome really with his whole look-at-me-I'm-a-big-strong-mountain-man thing he had going. But…well…

Fragments of her dream, once again remembered, flickered through her mind.

Anna bit her lip.

No. She definitely did not like the enraptured glow in Ylva's eyes.

Not.

One.

Bit.

"Yeah." She replied casually, carefully. "Of course I know him. He and Marius are my best friends. They're the best." Anna paused. "I mean obviously they're the best. I just said they were my best friends."

Wait. Since when is Kristoff something – something…

"Really?" If she had to guess, and really, Anna didn't like guessing when it came to such matters, she'd have guessed that she was now the target of Ylva's envy. Sheesh. What was with the maids and Kristoff?! It was always Marius girls were mooning over. So why…? Oh right. Everybody thinks that Marius is engaged. Well, he is engaged, but he's not supposed to be. At least not to Little Miss Prissy Face. Saints, I really have to implement this plan of mine.

Except she didn't exactly have a plan. Just some vague concept that relied heavily on convincing Marius to break off his engagement and somehow making Elsa see that she and Marius were just prefect for each other and doing something to Iulia. And dragging Kristoff in to help her carry it out, which could possibly be the hardest part seeing how stubborn he could be. But surely he'd understand.

He had to.

Oh course, now it seemed that she had to waste brainpower trying to save him from being overcome by the deadly wiles of every girl in Arendelle with nothing but a silken fan for a weapon!

Nice going Kristoff.

"Wow." Ylva was saying. "You're so lucky Princess Anna. Could you introduce me to him? My friends will be so jealous! I'd give anything just to talk to him. He's not engaged is he?"

Well you move awfully quick, don't you? You haven't even met Kristoff and you're already throwing yourself at him like some cow-eyed…some cow-eyed toad!

A beat.

Brows drawn at her sarcasm. Her meanness. This girl had every right to like Kristoff. It wasn't like he was hers. Right? Right.

Anna, what's gotten into you?

"No." A lie would be too easily discovered and frankly Anna didn't consider herself the lying sort. So she was shocked when she heard herself saying, "But he really likes this one girl so I don't think he'd be interested. He really really likes her."

But did he? Could he? Did she want him to? Y–

Wait, what? What in the world did she just say?!

"I uh, I mean…" What? That he didn't like this unnamed, unknown 'her'?

"Oh." Ylva blinked rapidly, turning away. "If you'll excuse me Princess Anna, I have some important duties to attend to." Her retreat was so swift, Anna couldn't get in a word of edgewise.

"Sorry." Muttered to an empty corridor, meddling with the swell of chatter filling the castle.

Crushed dreams. Crushed hope. She knew how it felt.

The emptiness.

It was almost enough for Anna to run after her. Take it back.

But she didn't.

Couldn't.

Kristoff was…she wasn't even going to think about what he was. Not now. Not right after stumbling across this revelation that she…that she…

Liked him.

Princess Anna Katrina Edeline liked Kristoff Fredrik Bjorgman and there was no denying it.

No hiding it.

The thought made her all warm inside.

Squirm.

Blush.

Spin emerald circles. Furling unfurling. Furling unfurling.

Race through the castle. Laugh at the shocked expressions of new guards and servants who had yet to be told of her notorious antics. Jump to the moon! Well she couldn't actually jump to the moon, but…

She could try!

Skidding down the freshly oiled staircase, skating through the ball room, waving, blowing kisses to her painted friends on the wall.

"We'll talk later Joan! I promise! I got so much to tell you!"

A leap, a bound, pulling herself to the one open window, looping her eager fingers around the ropes of the makeshift pulley-swing the three of them had built to reach the roof in hopes of entering the West Wing from the sky.

Like caged birds waiting to be freed. Waiting to spread their once-bound wings. To fly, soar, swoop, spiral through that great expanse of blue.

Hoisting herself upward she saw the ships. Floating into the harbor like stately clouds from distant lands. Anna scrunched her nose. She'd never been good at metaphors…or was it a simile?

She remembered sitting up here with Kristoff – Marius was busy training, or being taught tracking and strategy by his father –just the two of them. Talking about what they would do when the gates finally opened. She remembered the strange emotions that she always pushed away, sure that they could never come to light.

Until now.

Was it love?

Anna threw her weight forward, swinging back and forth, back and forth, back and forth.

It could be. Oh how she so wanted it to be!

After all it was coronation day.

Today everything could change.

But Anna was ready. She'd always be ready. She was born ready –

"Hey love? Want to come down from there before you break that pretty little neck of yours?"

Oh it was going to change alright. Starting with one Captain Marius Lorens Thorn.

[A/N: Oh hi, it's me. Kelda Zevsdaughter. You're best friend. Sorry. That was an inside joke that none of you will get, but is making me giggle like some crazed mad women as I work on chapter three. Anyway, sorry I haven't posted in like four weeks. Christmas time was quite busy and my job required extra hours. *Clutches face in hands* So many hours… Anywho, anywhat, any – it's 11 o'clock at night and I barely know what I'm saying anymore – chapter three should come more quickly. It'll be shorter. I think. I hope. This was supposed to be short and it's 14 pages in Word. Typical. You'd think it'd move quickly cuz Anna rambles, but nope. Elsa's still the easiest character to write. Btw sorry if Anna seems to be a bit…mentally unstable. I didn't mean for it to come out like that and frankly this chapter amuses me so I'm not changing it.

So to get back to WinterKnight2104 thanks so much for your comments. They make me laugh. And yes the Himmler children! Stefan is hands down my favorite, followed by Nyamph. *Snickers* Hansel… and Rupert. That darling thing. He reminds me of my guinea pig Azalea… As for Elsa's feelings for Marius, my lips are sealed. You'll just have to wait and see.

Last bit and then I'm done cuz I write insanely long authors notes. Three more songs for my on going list and they are…I Hope you Dance (Cover by Mandisa), There's a Place for Us by Carrie Underwood, and Not That Girl sung by Idina Menzel. Okay I'm finished. Enjoy. Comment. Critic. Review. Roger that. Kelda Zevsdaughter over and out.]