Voices

Chapter Three

Coronation

Three years passed swiftly by for Elsa; three years that, in comparison to the first ten years of her isolation, were over in the blink of an eye. She threw herself entirely into her royal studies, determined to honor her father's memory by becoming the greatest queen in Arendelle's storied history. She memorized treaties, trade agreements, foreign social customs, countless other details required to maintain strong diplomatic relations with Arendelle's allies. She knew Arendelle's legal code backwards and forwards; she was the first royal in five generations to obtain a perfect score on the final legal examination.

With the death of her parents, Elsa had been forced to leave the confines of her bedroom in order to fulfill her new responsibilities as reigning regent. Although by law she was not permitted to make binding decisions on matters of state until she came of age and was crowned queen—a panel of five senior advisors formally reserved the right of final decision—Elsa demonstrated a natural gift for these affairs, rendering the committee's vote a mere formality. Indeed, those within the bureaucracy who might normally have resented being commanded by a young woman were astounded by her wisdom and poise at so young an age, and relished the years of prosperity for Arendelle that were sure to follow the dawning of the age of Queen Elsa.

In reality, however, Elsa was hardly the picture of calm and grace she presented to the world. Since her parents' death, she had become even more fearful, more self-conscious, more anxious. Being released from constant seclusion in her bedroom was hardly the exhilarating experience of freedom Elsa had hoped and prayed it would be. On the contrary, she felt even more constricted than ever before, as she now had to work even harder to conceal the curse from prying eyes. The only way she was able to maintain her composure was by throwing herself completely into her work; it was not uncommon for here to still be awake at the small hours of the morning, studying, analyzing, trying to keep the voices at bay through constant mental stimulation.

The voices, oh the voices: her constant companions, always whispering in the background, attempting to sabotage her efforts to maintain her composure, remind her of what she was, goading her into exposing herself to the ever-increasing throng of royal ministers with whom she now had to work. She had given up on ever driving them away at this point; she had begrudgingly accepted that they were as much a part of her as the ice and the snow. She had reached something of an uneasy alliance with them: she permitted them to whisper and flutter throughout her mind at will, not even forming coherent words, provided they didn't attempt to rise up and dominate her again. Sometimes, however, the voices would get greedy and attempt to move to the forefront of her consciousness. When that happened, they were immediately met with the mental walls she had spent the past few years carefully erecting. Howling and moaning, they would recede back to the depths of her mind, where they would dwell until their next attempted assault.

Their assaults could be especially painful, as they had been in the weeks following her parents' funeral. She, of course, had not attended the funeral; she dared not, even though her heart was ripped in two at the thought of not properly saying goodbye. Excuses were made to all the attendees—something about illness, or was it depression, Elsa could never remember—but the memory of Anna's reaction still stung. . . .


The door to Elsa's bedroom opened for the first time in years. At least that's how it appeared to Princess Anna. Her heart fluttered in her chest and, for the first time in ten years, she rushed to embrace her older sister.

"Elsa? It's really you!" she cried, arms around Elsa's back as she went to pull her into the tightest hug she could muster—

Except her arms never had the chance to close around her sister. Elsa had pulled back, leaning against her bedroom door, her face tense and drawn, her eyes weary and dull. Anna was thrown off balance and she fell to the floor, hurt and confused.

"Anna, I'm sorry," Elsa said as her younger sister pulled herself to her feet. "I can't hold you now."

The younger girl was shocked, confused, disbelieving. "Elsa, what are you saying? Mother and Father are dead! I'm hurting! You have to be hurting too! Please, let me in."

She grasped her sister's hand, concealed as always in a long silk glove, holding it gently, tenderly. "Let me be close to you, like we once were. Please. Let me be here for you. Don't shut me out anymore. Whatever it is that's hurting you, please share it with me."

Anna stared into her sister's face, pleading silently for Elsa to let go of whatever had driven them apart. She looks so miserable, Anna thought. Why won't she let me help her?

For a fraction of a second, Elsa allowed herself to accept the warmth of her sister's hand, the loving touch that threatened to tear down her defenses. But the moment passed as quickly as it had arrived. Emotionless Elsa returned, pushing her sister's hand away.

"I mean it, Anna," she said, desperately trying to remain strong, to not unleash the tears that were building in her eyes. "I can't be near you."

Anna couldn't believe what she was hearing. "Then, why are you here? Why did you come out if you didn't want to be near me?"

Elsa paused, taking a deep breath to steady herself. "I came to tell you that I won't be attending the funeral."

She's not serious, Anna thought. She can't be. Can she?!

"What do you mean, Elsa? Of course you're going to the funeral."

"No, I'm not. I . . . I just can't." She paused, and to Anna, it looked as if she was having a silent conversation in her mind with someone only she could hear. The moment was gone, and Elsa turned to Anna again.

"I have to go now," she whispered, opening her bedroom door. "I just wanted to tell you myself, rather than having you find out on your own."

"No!" Anna yelled, slamming the door and standing in front of it, cutting off Elsa's escape. "You can't do this, Elsa! You can't keep locking yourself away from everyone! From me!"

The buzzing was getting louder in her ears once again. Not now. Not now. Conceal. Conceal. Conceal! "Anna, I can only say I'm sorry so many times, but—"

"You're sorry?" Anna cried, startling Elsa with the force of her words. "You're sorry? What about me? I've been sorry every day for the past ten years."

Elsa stared at Anna, confused. "What are you—"

"I don't KNOW!" Anna cried, tears beginning to run down her face. "You won't talk to me! All I know is that one day you decided you didn't want to be anywhere near me anymore, so you locked yourself away. I tried, and tried, and tried, to see you, so many times, just for a moment, but you wouldn't answer. Ever! And then I would hear you screaming every night, over and over and over, and I would get on my knees and pray to God that whatever was hurting you would go away so we . . . so we could be together again, just like we used to be when we were little."

Oh, no, Elsa thought. She thinks I'm angry at her! What did my parents tell her? Elsa tried to think of some words of comfort she could speak to her sister, something that could ease the pain without revealing the entire truth, but the buzzing was getting louder and so were the whispers.

"Anna," she said, faltering. "All I can say is . . . I love you, and I am truly sorry it has to be like this."

Anna had fallen to the floor next to the door, angrily wiping the tears from her face. Her response to Elsa was barely audible, but Elsa heard every word as clear as a bell. "You say you love me, and then you act like this." Elsa's chest tightened as she fought every impulse she had to run to her sister, to confess, to explain how it was never Anna's fault, how she was terrified she would hurt her because she was a monster.

Anna shook her head, stood up, and smoothed out her dress. "Okay, then. I guess I'll see you in another ten years or so. Good day, Your Highness." Before Elsa could respond, Anna turned on her heal and walked away.

"Anna. . . ." Elsa whispered as she watched her sister disappear down the corridor.

Locking herself back in her bedroom, she retched violently again and again, vainly trying to keep the rage and the buzzing from overwhelming her. Conceal, conceal, conceal! she thought, and for a moment she thought she had beaten them, but then a single, mocking thought flashed through her mind: That went well, don't you think, snow princess?

The night table beside her bed exploded into thousands of icy splinters as Elsa roared in rage, self-hatred, regret for the pain—the unforgivable pain—she had caused Anna and the destruction of both of their childhoods. Once the initial rush of rage subsided, she collapsed on the bed, totally spent, without any tears left to cry. Once again, as she knew she must always be, she was alone.


But that moment was long in the past. For today was the day that all of her training, all of her life had prepared her for. Today was the day she would finally be crowned Queen of Arendelle and claim her royal birthright. Today was the day that all of her efforts to control her powers would be put to the test. For although she could rule in solitude, for one day her subjects expected her to hold a public coronation and reception so that they could pay tribute to their beloved queen.

She was dressed in the traditional formal uniform of Arendelle's female rulers. A dark black dress, tight, with a high color; long, teal gloves—of course she still had her gloves—and flowing magenta cape. Her platinum hair was immaculately braided in a tight bun behind her head. Her face was the picture of elegance and refinement. She was, in short, everything Arendelle's citizens expected her to be.

Except for the snow and ice, the voices whispered. Conceal! she commanded, piling high her mental barriers. With a quiet wail, the voices receded into her subconscious. I will let nothing ruin this day for my people, she vowed. Nothing!

Finally prepared, finally ready, Princess Elsa stepped forth from her bedroom and summoned the captain of the guard. Giving the command she had dreaded her entire adult life, she ordered: "Open the palace gates. Let the people in."


The coronation ceremony proceeded without incident. Gathered in the palace chapel, the traditional location for the ceremony, heads of state from allied nations, trade ministers seeking to do business with the new queen, and heads of Arendelle's own government offices watched as Princess Elsa took the solemn vows to uphold her office, to protect her people, to sacrifice everything for the wellbeing of Arendelle.

Throughout the ceremony, Anna stood beside her sister, fulfilling the traditional duty of aide-de-camp to the new monarch. If she was angry, Elsa noticed, Anna wasn't showing it. In fact, Anna appeared to be genuinely happy with for her older sister, although Elsa did notice during some of the boring sections of the bishop's speech—and if she found them boring, imagine how the audience must have felt—that Anna kept glancing toward somewhere, or someone in the crowd, a girlish grin on her face. I'll have to talk to that girl about that later, she thought.

Now, the final ritual of the ceremony had arrived. Elsa was to hold the orb and scepter and face the representatives of her people as the bishop gave the final pronouncement that the new queen had been crowned. The acolyte brought forth the royal ornaments on their traditional pillow and Elsa reached for them, ready for the ceremony to be over.

Ahem. The bishop coughed, overtly loudly, to get her attention. "Your Majesty," he whispered. "The gloves."

Oh, no, Elsa thought. She had practiced and practiced holding the orb and scepter without the gloves but had never been able to keep them from frosting after a few seconds. She had hoped against hope she could get away with wearing the gloves, but it was clear the bishop would not allow it. "Must I?" she whispered, hoping she could change his mind.

"Yes, Majesty," he whispered. "Your skin must touch them in order to show that you submit yourself to the traditions and expectations they represent."

Okay. I can do this. I can do this. Conceal! Conceal! Conceal!

Having carefully removed the gloves, Elsa gingerly lifted the orb and scepter, turned around and faced the audience. She stood perfectly still as the bishop proclaimed the final lines in the ancient language of their fathers. Conceal! Conceal! Conceal! She was almost finished.

Isn't this a nice audience, snow queen? whispered a voice. All for you! Too bad they don't know what you really are!

Her mental walls flared up, sending the voice screaming back to the void. She glanced down and noticed that, to her horror, the orb and scepter were starting to become encrusted in ice, more and more with each passing second. Come on! Finish! she screamed in her head at the bishop. Conceal, don't feel! Conceal!

The bishop finally finished the proclamation, and the audience stood up and erupted in cheers. No one noticed anything unusual, except perhaps for the speed with which the new queen laid down the ornaments and put on her gloves.

As she saw the audience cheering, applauding for her, a smile—a real smile—crossed her face for the first time in years. She turned to Anna, and together they processed down the aisle to the rear of the chapel, where they would exchange pleasantries with the dignitaries before proceeding to the reception hall.

"You did great," Anna whispered to Elsa as they stood in the receiving line.

"So did you," Elsa whispered back, and for the briefest of moments, it was as if the past thirteen years had never happened, that they were as close as they had ever been.

"Before I forget," Elsa whispered to Anna in between handshakes, "remind me to talk to you at the reception." She took a deep breath, calming herself. You've waited for thirteen years to have this conversation. You can wait a little bit longer. "There's something about me I need to tell you."


AN: So, it looks as if Elsa finally has had her moment of triumph. Unfortunately, we know that all good things must come to an end. Please keep comments and reviews coming.