Anna had grown tall enough now that she no longer needed to climb up onto the parapet of the tallest tower in order to watch the tall ships as they sailed across the waters of the fjord. Just because she didn't have to, however, didn't change the fact that she still liked to. She enjoyed the little thrill she got when she looked straight down the steep tower walls to the rocky island shore far below. It was like looking down from the highest branches of the tallest tree in the garden, only with less work for an even greater reward.
On this morning, the warm sun on her face and the cool breeze off the water made for such a delightful contrast that she could just about convince herself that everything in her life was good and right and exactly as it ought to be. The weather was beautiful, there were boats aplenty of all sizes navigating the sparkling waters, and the cries of the seabirds carried so clearly that it almost sounded as if they were flocking right around her. It was truly a delightful day.
It was also just a little bit lonely.
As much as she loved the view from up here, she still found it difficult to keep her happiness wholly untainted by thoughts of her old ship-watching companion. This place had been one of her and Marie's favorite spots in the entire castle. They had wiled away many a happy hour upon this vantage point, watching the sweep of the majestic vessels as they hove into and out of the harbor. The two girls had spent those times talking about anything and everything. Sometimes, they'd even talked about nothing, just enjoying each other's quiet company.
Those times had always been rare, of course. Anna generally couldn't stand a silence left unfilled, at least not as long as she had anything to say about it. In fact, that might have been one of the hardest things she'd had to cope with this last year.
She had been woefully lost for weeks after Elsa had shut her out again. She had begged and bribed and cajoled at her sister's door, doing whatever she could think of to try to get through to Elsa. All to no avail, of course. She had tried to get her parents to explain to her what had happened, what she had done wrong to drive her sister away again. All she had received in return, however, were sad looks and repeated assurances that it was not in the slightest way her fault.
Fortunately, the younger of Arendelle's princesses was nothing if not resilient. Before that winter had fully broken, giving way to spring's golden sunlight and the riotous colors of the flowers in the royal gardens, she had made up her mind that continuing to mope about the castle wasn't doing her or anyone else any good.
Instead, she had done her level best to try and establish a new rhythm to fit this latest phase of her life. After all, hadn't she previously gone several years with barely a word from the other side of her sister's door? She hadn't given up on Elsa then, and her patience had eventually paid off. Well, she had decided once again that she wouldn't give up this time, either. She would continue to let Elsa know that she would always be there for her, in hopes that one day, her sister would be ready to admit that she needed Anna too.
And if this new rhythm also included occasional afternoons spent in the portrait gallery pouring her heart out to her friends in the paintings, so be it. Fortunately, they didn't judge. But even so, there was no substitute for someone with whom you could simply have an honest to goodness conversation now and then.
Which is why she felt certain that she would never forget the day when the portraits talked back.
• • •
Anna flopped down heavily onto her usual seat in the gallery and immediately closed her eyes. She was feeling thoroughly exhausted and more than a little disheartened. It had not been one of her better days. She sighed.
"It's me again, Joan," the princess announced in a tired sort of voice. "Hope I'm not bothering you. I just really need somebody to talk to. That is, if you aren't busy."
She wasn't crazy, of course. She knew perfectly well that she was only talking to a painting. Nevertheless, she'd been taught her manners well, and it helped make the conversation feel more real when she observed all the proper etiquette. Besides, she was certain that the day would eventually come when she would get to talk to actual, real live people again. Best to maintain all the right habits in preparation for that day.
"It started this morning when I overslept. Mother had to stop by on her way to Elsa's lessons just to get me up, and even then I was barely awake. I don't even remember getting dressed or eating breakfast. In fact, the first thing I remember clearly was sitting in my classroom watching Prof. Engelstad as he looked over the assignment I'd just turned in. I guess you could say that he was not impressed.
"So technically, I suppose it really started last night. I hadn't meant to put off my classwork that long, honest. I just forgot. I've been spending so much time in the library lately, trying to find good stories I can read to Elsa. Sometimes, it feels like I've looked through every book in there twice.
"And don't give me that look, Opal. I know perfectly well that it would take me years to get through all of our books. I only said that it felt that way."
Anna still hadn't opened her eyes, but she really didn't need to. She was perfectly familiar with the expression on the face of the woman in the turquoise dress. The artist had clearly intended her to look demure but a little aloof. Unfortunately, at least to Anna's eyes, the end result came across more like haughty disappointment. The princess always felt like she was being judged rather unfairly whenever she looked at that portrait. Today, even with her eyes closed, she could still picture the face quite clearly. It didn't help that she'd seen a very similar critical expression on her tutor's face that morning.
"So anyway, it was only after I'd finished reading to Elsa last night and was getting ready for bed that I realized that I'd completely forgotten about the assignment. I hurried up and did the best I could on such short notice. I stayed up for hours after I should have been in bed, trying to at least get something ready.
"Still, I knew that what I'd done wasn't very good. Obviously, Prof. Engelstad agreed. So now I have to do it all over again... and more to make up for such a poor first attempt.
"Well, after such an awful start to the day, I thought that I deserved a little diversion before I had to throw myself back into my studies. So after the midday meal, I decided to go down to the stables and take Adelen for a little ride around the courtyard. Something didn't seem right with him today, though. Even when I was trying to get the tack on him, he seemed out of sorts.
"When I actually led him out of the stables and climbed up into the saddle, he was just so skittish. It felt like he kept wanting to bolt on me, and I spent most of my time just holding him in check. I don't know what was wrong. You know I love him, and I guess maybe horses can have bad days too. It's just that sometimes, he seems to get spooked by the smallest of things. Half the time, I have no idea what it is that sets him off, but I can usually calm him down anyway. Not today, though. For whatever reason, he just did not want to be ridden. So much for my hopes of a little bit of fun.
"At that point, I finally gave up and went back to my room to see about making a start on my assignment. It was such slow going, though. I just couldn't concentrate, no matter how hard I tried. I worked on it for hours, but what I had to show for it was even worse than what I'd turned in the first time."
Anna yawned. The day had taken so much out of her already. Add that to the lack of sleep she'd started off with, and her body was now mistakenly interpreting her prone position as a sign that the time had come for a well-deserved nap. The memory of her mind numbing school work wasn't helping matters any either. Still, she wanted to at least finish telling her story before she just finally gave in.
"Even after all of that, though, I told myself that it hadn't been entirely for nothing. I mean, at least during all the time I'd spent in the library the day before, I had actually found what looked like a really good story to read to Elsa. And even though it wasn't even dinnertime yet, I decided to just go ahead, take the book to her room right then, and read it to her. I figured maybe that would help clear my head."
Anna lifted one arm and let it drop across her forehead in exasperation and exhaustion. "I was halfway through the story when I realized that I'd already read it to her a month ago. I don't know, I guess I probably should have just finished reading it anyway. It was a good story; maybe she wouldn't have minded hearing it a second time.
"But I didn't. Instead, I got all flustered and started apologizing and then just started rambling and... I don't even remember what I said. I just know that, after making a complete fool of myself, I basically ended up running away. Oh, I tried to cover it with silly laughter at my own expense, but I knew what it really felt like."
She stifled another yawn, then shook her head drowsily back and forth beneath her arm. "I guess maybe I shouldn't complain about Adelen after all. Apparently, I can get spooked just as easily by the stupidest of things. So what does that say about me?"
"That you're a perfectly normal girl who's doing her very best in a terribly difficult situation."
"I'm not sure normal is the right word for anybody in my family, me least of all."
There was a pause, and then, "Perhaps not. Then again, is normal really all that important? Most of the time, it's only a word that people misuse when what they really mean is, 'Just like me.' And maybe normal is needed, to a point. But then, if I had been normal, I would never have left my family's farm, never would have found my way to the royal court, never would have met the heir to the throne. Things would have turned out so very differently.
"My point is that normal isn't always enough. Normal doesn't make history. Normal doesn't change the world. If everyone were perfectly normal, then where would we get our bravest heroes and our greatest leaders, or our skilled craftspeople, or master poets and artists.
"Or beautiful little princesses who sometimes talk to paintings."
"Not beautiful," Anna mumbled sleepily. "M'just me."
"And why should that make you any less beautiful?"
It was the light touch of fingers upon her forehead that finally forced Anna's weary brain to acknowledge that perhaps something wasn't quite right with her situation. Slowly, she opened her bleary eyes and struggled for a moment to focus upon the portrait that continued to hang on the wall above her.
The young lady warrior had not apparently moved. She held the same pose she always did: looking back over her left shoulder, her sword held in her right hand and raised over her head. Yet even as her mind struggled to brush away the cobwebs, Anna would still have sworn she'd heard a woman's voice speaking to her. Had it just been the first whispers of a dream, or...?
"Joan?" Anna asked in a confused mixture of wonder and fear.
A light laugh from behind her caused her to tilt her head back, craning her neck for the source of the sound.
"I'm afraid not, sweetheart. It's only me."
"Mother!" Anna exclaimed. She sat up a little too quickly, and the room spun around her for a moment as her equilibrium tried to readjust to the sudden change in position. By the time she regained her bearings, the queen had taken a seat beside her on the settee.
"How long have you...? How much did you...?" The princess began to turn red as she slowly replayed the sleepy conversation in her head, and realized that the answer to both questions was, "Enough to realize that my daughter is talking to people who don't really exist." Her hands flew up to cover her mouth in embarrassment.
Ellinor only laughed again, wrapped an arm around her daughter's shoulders, and pulled her in close. "Oh, Anna, you needn't worry. I've known about you and your visits here for a long time now. I never said anything before because I never felt the need. If this helps you to cope with everything that's been going on in your life, then that's more than enough for me."
"But who else knows?" Anna asked. Despite her mother's reassurances, she still averted her eyes as though she'd been caught doing something wrong.
"Only your father, as far as I'm aware. But please believe me when I say that there is nothing about this for which you should feel ashamed. I didn't interrupt you today because I wanted to put a stop to it. You mustn't think that. I know these last few years haven't been easy for you. I wouldn't want to take away anything that helps keep your spirits up. I would no sooner forbid you from doing this than I would try to keep you away from Adelen."
The princess looked up at her mother. "Then why today? If you've known about it for so long, why did you only decide to say something about it now?"
Now it was the queen who turned away. Her gaze swept over the paintings on the far wall as she attempted to find a proper answer to that question somewhere within her own heart.
"Even though you're younger than your sister," she finally began, "you've always been the daring one, the fearless one. From the time you were old enough to walk, nothing ever seemed to scare you. You would take falls that had your father and me worried sick. But where most other children would have cried their heads off, you'd usually get right back up with little more than a sniffle. As often as not, you would be running off laughing a moment later as if nothing had ever happened.
"You may not believe this, but I think you actually taught Elsa a thing or two about courage back then. With you around, I watched her try things I'd never seen her do before."
Anna smiled as remembered those days. "She also kept me from doing the really crazy things I was always wanting to try. I'm sure she spared me any number of broken bones along the way. Besides, most of the time she could think up an even better way to have the same fun."
"Yes, between your spirit and her cleverness, we certainly had our hands full. When it came to getting into mischief, you two made quite the team."
Ellinor then winced inwardly as she saw how her innocent use of the past tense had suddenly wiped away her daughter's smile.
"That's been my problem, Anna," she said regretfully. "Too often, I've allowed myself to only remember the bold little girl who was never afraid to try anything. I've been worried about Elsa for so long, and I think I managed to convince myself that my other dear daughter was so strong that she would always bounce back, no matter what."
The queen shook her head. "You're worried that people might think you're a little odd just because you talk to portraits now and then. Honestly, my foolish behavior was far more deranged by any measure you'd care to use, especially since I'm old enough that I ought to know better.
"Because you see, what I let myself forget about your younger days were the times when you actually did cry. As I said, it was never when you scraped your knee or bumped your head or anything like that. That never fazed you in the slightest.
"You only ever seemed to get truly upset when you were left alone.
"Of course, between your father and I – and your sister and Gerda and all the rest of the staff – that was a truly rare occurrence. So perhaps I can be forgiven, at least a little, for having so much stronger memories of my little Anna the Brave.
"Still, that doesn't excuse all the times that I've let others be there for you even though I should have been the one holding your hand. I taught your sister her lessons for nearly four years, but I left you to your tutor and your nanny. I watched your father teach you swordplay and then horseback riding, and felt proud that I'd helped the two of you to grow closer. Except now, I can't help but wonder what have I ever taught you myself?"
At last, Ellinor turned to look at her daughter again. "I truly am happy that you've been able to confide in Joan and the rest of your friends in here, Anna. I only regret that you've had to.
"I know that we all need somebody we can talk to. I also know that you have brought some of your problems to me over the years, and I'm ever so glad that you've felt that you could. But I just want you to know that you can talk to me whenever you need or want to. I'd like you to feel that you can come to me with anything, no matter what it might be. Even if you think it's just silly, even if you feel embarrassed by it, that doesn't matter. I promise, I'll listen.
"But I'll also understand if there are some things that you'd rather keep to yourself and..." She raised her hand in a gesture that took in the entire gallery.
Anna's eyes had remained on her mother's face during this entire speech. She continued to look up at her now as the queen returned her gaze. For a little while, the two simply shared a silence. Then the princess leaned over and rested her head against her mother's chest.
"Does it ever feel to you like we all spend way too much time apologizing to one another?"
Ellinor laughed. "Oh, I don't know. I prefer an apology to a stubborn refusal to admit when we're wrong. But yes, it does seem like we've been needing to apologize more often than we should lately. Hopefully, that's something else we can try to change.
"You know, your father and I have been talking, and we both agreed that it would be a good idea for him to start teaching Elsa some of her lessons on a more regular basis. Now I want you to know that we didn't make that decision with just your sister in mind. This also means that I'll have more free time now too, and I'd very much like to spend some of it with you, if you wouldn't mind."
Anna smiled and snuggled in even closer against her mother's side. "I'd like that."
The queen bent her head and kissed the top of her daughter's strawberry blonde hair. "I'm glad."
Several extremely comfortable minutes passed before Ellinor spoke again. "You know, there actually was another reason I came looking for you just now."
"Oh?" Anna asked incuriously. She was really in no hurry to leave her mother's embrace, especially since it would be so easy and so very wonderful to just let herself fall asleep right there and then.
"It's dinnertime. Or it nearly was when I first came up. Gerda has probably set the table already by now. If not, then your father is probably just sitting there getting increasingly impatient... and hungry."
"Can't he wait a little longer?"
"Anna..."
The queen's remonstrance was interrupted by the gurgling sound of an empty stomach contemplating one of Gerda's excellent meals. Mother and daughter looked at each other in surprise, and then both began to laugh.
"Well, I suppose that settles that," Ellinor finally managed. "Shall we go then?"
They both stood. Anna quietly slipped her hand into her mother's and they both began walking toward the exit. As the queen held the door open for her daughter, however, Anna paused for a moment. Then she turned around and looked thoughtfully back at all the familiar faces hanging in all their familiar spots on the four familiar walls.
She did not say a word. But she did smile, and then she waved goodbye. Not forever, of course. For this moment, though, she had at least found someone else with whom she could talk.
Then she walked out into the hallway and her mother closed the door behind them.
As they began the walk to the dining room, Anna looked up at her mother again. "Um, I actually could use a little help with something at the moment. You know, if you have some time."
"Of course, sweetheart. What is it that you need?"
"Well, er... stories."
"Ah. For Elsa?" Anna nodded. Then it was the queen's turn to smile.
"I think we can manage that. What say you and I go to the library after dinner? I can already think of a few volumes that ought to have exactly what you need. And if you get through all of those, we can always order more."
• • •
A particularly strong gust grabbed at Anna's braids and pulled them out behind her. For a second or two, they flapped in the wind like the pennants atop the masts of the vessels she had been watching. She closed her eyes and breathed in the invigorating sea air. Even though this place might bring back bittersweet memories of her friend now far away, she still loved it with all her heart.
Then again, she loved all of Arendelle Castle. Every single inch of it held its own secret cache of moments gone by, a treasure trove that only she could unlock. Of course, it also served as the storehouse of such wealth for countless others who lived and worked within its walls. Still, it meant more to her than it probably did to most. After all, the castle and palace weren't just simple places to her. They were her home.
In fact, for most of her life so far, they had been her entire world.
How many memories did one make in a year? How many in ten? And when so many of those memories were limited to so small a space, how could it help but become a part of you, and you a part of it.
And then Anna thought of Elsa. For nearly five years, almost all of her memories would have been formed within the confines of her own little room. How many could a space that small possibly hold? If it filled up, would there still be room for her sister? Or would she and the room become so closely bound together that each would simply disappear into the other?
At that moment, the wind abruptly changed direction. Her braids, still caught in the air currents, swung around and slapped her playfully in the face. She spluttered for a moment, then laughed at herself. Who was she to be engaging in such high-minded thoughts? Better that she should stick to what she did best, whatever that might be, and leave the philosophy to the philosophers. After all, she was just Anna, a ten-year-old girl sitting alone high atop a castle tower, allowing her overactive imagination to run away with her.
"Hello, Anna. Sorry that I'm late. Your father had a few last minute things he wanted to discuss, but I got here as quickly as I could."
Well, now at least she wasn't alone atop the tower. She turned and grinned at her newly arrived companion.
"That's okay, Mother. There are still plenty of magnificent ships out today. Come take a look!"
The queen stepped up to the wall beside her and, as usual, surreptitiously slipped her arm around her daughter's waist. Yes, it was a loving gesture of warmth and kindness, but it also had much to do with the fact that her mother still was not entirely comfortable with Anna's preferred seating position. As compromises went, this was one that suited them both nicely.
They began pointing out various vessels, trying to make out the flags or the names emblazoned across the hulls. There were a few which Ellinor recognized and actually knew why they were in port, but many were new and unknown to them both. For those, they enjoyed guessing what cargo might be on board or what adventures it had seen on its way across the ocean.
During a lull in the sea traffic, Anna looked back over her shoulder. With one sweeping glance, she took in the tan stone walls and green-topped spires of the castle, the angular gables and glinting triangular windows of the palace, the gardens below and her mother standing beside her.
There's plenty of room here, she thought to herself. More than enough to hold entire lifetimes worth of memories. The most important thing is to try to make them good ones.
Having a friend by her side again was certainly a good start in that direction.
