Anna and Marie burst into the palace, chattering happily and gesticulating broadly, their hands guiding imaginary swords through the air as they avidly discussed that day's lesson. King Agdar, trailing in behind them, was carrying the practice swords nestled safely against the crook of his elbow. He silently congratulated himself on his foresight as Anna's right arm swept out in an expansive gesture that only missed connecting with an antique vase by a scant inch.
He smiled behind the girls' backs, happy to see that at least a few things about his younger daughter had not changed with the intervening years.
"Anna?" a voice suddenly called, and all three turned to look. There stood the queen, regal as always, framed in a doorway off to one side of the entrance hall.
"Yes, Mama?" the princess replied.
"I was just wondering if you might like to join me for a cup of tea."
"Oh." Anna stole a glance at Marie. "Well, the thing is, Marie and I were going to..."
"Marie is invited too, of course," Ellinor clarified. Seeing her daughter continuing to hesitate, she played her trump card. "And there's krumkake."
Anna bit her lip as her eyes grew wide and bright. She turned to look fully at Marie now. The other girl was already nodding eagerly. Exchanging broad grins, the two took off running across the hall.
"Thanks for the lesson, Papa!" Anna called back over her shoulder.
"Yes, thank you very much, Your Majesty!" Marie agreed as the queen stepped quickly aside to allow the two eager girls through the door.
Before she turned to follow them, however, Ellinor looked back at her husband. He stood alone in the middle of the large room, shaking his head and wearing a bemused smirk. When he noticed her attention, he fixed his gaze on her face and allowed his smile to turn into something a little bit more personal, but also somehow a little unsure.
Despite herself, the queen's lips also quirked upward slightly. Even though two months had now passed, she still found it hard some days to look at Agdar and not remember that scornful glare he had pinned her with as he had walked out of Elsa's room on her birthday. Still, she had never been one to hold a grudge unduly. And Agdar had indeed risen to his promise of reconnecting with Anna, far more successfully than she had ever imagined. Granted, she had never imagined swordplay serving as the bridge between father and daughter. However, there was no arguing with the results.
Her husband had many faults, but he was certainly a man of his word. He had proven that much beyond question. More to the point, he really did care for his two girls, even if he sometimes struggled to show it. So now, at last, Ellinor judged that the time was right.
With a flick of her eyes and a twist of her head, she indicated a very particular direction to her partner. Then she watched his eyebrows rise in surprise, and in unspoken question. Now, she finally did let her smile blossom in full and nodded at him encouragingly. His tentative smile broke into a wide grin. He turned and, with swift strides that looked for all the world like the king wanted nothing so much as to mimic his daughter and break out into a sprint, quickly crossed the room to the foot of the staircase.
Ellinor was just beginning to turn to walk through the door when Agdar stopped, one foot hovering over the first step. The queen arrested her motion, wondering for a moment what might be wrong with her husband. Then, Agdar spun to face her and, sweeping his arm across his midsection, executed a deep but jaunty bow. As he straightened, he brought that arm up and, touching his fingertips to his lips, lightly blew his wife a kiss.
The gesture so forcefully reminded her of the younger man she had fallen in love with that she simply couldn't keep from laughing. Shooing him off with a wave of her hand, she pivoted on the spot and at last crossed the threshold into the parlor.
King Agdar took the steps two at a time, the broad smile still stretched across his face. His long strides carried him quickly through the corridors so that he reached his destination in practically no time at all. Soon, he stood outside of Elsa's room.
But he did not enter. He did not knock or announce himself. In fact, he did not move at all. Instead, he silently questioned his own sanity.
What had he been thinking, coming here in such a giddy rush? As his eyes wandered over the blue and violet rosemaling decorating his daughter's door, the memories came flooding back of the last time he'd stood here, prepared to enter this room. And the sick feeling he'd experienced on that day, when he realized how thoughtlessly he had treated his first born child, settled once again in the pit of his stomach.
Honoring his wife's request, he had not attempted to see Elsa again since that day. Ellinor had said that their daughter was not yet ready to face him, and Agdar certainly had not wanted to cause her any more pain. So he had kept his distance, though each day away felt like it cost him another little bit of his soul. It was one of the great ironies of life that applied to all men, king or commoner. You can take something completely for granted, never giving any thought to it whatsoever, until the day you suddenly find it denied to you. Only then do you realize how empty your life is without it.
So yes, now that Ellinor had finally given him her silent blessing to visit their daughter again, his reaction had been nothing short of euphoric. Yet somehow, that had seemed to evaporate the instant he reached this spot, where he now stood rooted. Because that was the moment when he stopped thinking about himself and began to think about Elsa. And then it finally struck him that, despite his own elation at the thought of seeing her again, he had absolutely no reason to expect her to share such feelings. Certainly not considering the way they had last parted.
Now the mighty King of Arendelle stood in the hallway, searching for the courage to do something as simple as raising his hand to knock on the door before him. A part of him actually wondered if he should just turn and walk away, leaving Elsa in peace rather than imposing his presence on her. But no. Even if his courage had momentarily deserted him, he was not that great of a coward. He would not run away from his fears. For that's what this was – fear that Elsa would be unable to forgive him. Fear that her door might remain barred to him. Fear that, even if the door opened, what he might find waiting for him on the other side would be even more unbearable.
In the end, one thought spurred Agdar forward. Stop thinking about yourself. You can try to justify it any way you like, but what you're really worrying about is how you might be hurt. It's time to put your daughter first. If she needs you, then you'd better well be there for her. But it needs to be her decision whether or not she's ready to allow you back into her life, no matter what that answer might cost you.
Acting before he could second guess himself yet again, he raised his hand and quickly rapped his knuckles against the wooden door. "Elsa, sweetheart. It's your father. May I come in?"
Then he waited. He waited for what seemed like several eternities, though he suspected it was only a few seconds. He waited until he heard the quiet sound of the latch being withdrawn, saw the handle turn, and watched the door slowly open inward.
There stood the princess, still gripping the edge of the door, and looking every bit as uncertain as Agdar felt. He tried his best to fashion a reassuring smile, despite his body's sudden determination to once more freeze every single muscle rigidly in place. "May I come in?" he asked again. Slowly, Elsa nodded.
He approached cautiously, allowing her time to step back and open the door a little wider. Once inside, he abruptly found himself facing a new and unexpected conundrum: where to sit? The bed was far too personal, and the bench by the bright window seemed somehow inappropriate. After standing awkwardly in the middle of the room for several moments, he finally opted for the straight-backed chair near the desk, where Ellinor usually sat during Elsa's lessons. It wasn't the most comfortable seat in the room, but he was already uncomfortable enough that he doubted he'd notice the difference.
Once seated, he looked again at his daughter. She was standing with her back against the now closed door. Her eyes kept returning to his face, only to then veer away again after a few heartbeats. He sighed inwardly. Well, at least they were starting this little reunion with one thing in common, even if it was only an awkward disquiet.
In fact, he could feel the uneasiness growing as their silence prowled the room. Finally, at a loss for any profound words of either repentance or wisdom, Agdar settled on the simple and honest truth. "I've missed you, Elsa." When she turned her eyes towards him this time, she at least did not look away again. But still, she did not speak. His spirits wilted a little. He had hoped for some response, maybe an, "I missed you too." Her continued silence was disheartening, to say the least.
Well, no one had said this was going to be easy. Still, it had to begin somewhere, and it certainly looked like it would have to begin with him.
"Elsa," he began again, trying to collect his thoughts as he spoke, "I think it should be pretty clear by now that being a king does not make one infallible. If anyone doubts that, they need only ask a queen. And I regret none of my mistakes so much as those I've made with my daughters. I can, I have, and I will apologize – as many times as it takes – but apologies cannot change the past. All I can do is to try to do better by the both of you, now and going forward.
"Unfortunately, part of being an imperfect human being is that I also don't always know what the best thing for you truly is. I make my best guesses, and then I make mistakes. But in order to do better, in order to make fewer mistakes, I need you to talk to me. I need you to tell me what you need. Because I think I've made it abundantly clear that I don't know that as well as I should."
He continued to hold Elsa's gaze, but her silence remained unbroken. The only response she gave was to shift her weight a little nervously from one foot to the other.
Agdar leaned forward, rested his elbows on his knees, and rubbed his eyes with the palms of his hands. When he looked up again, he silently cursed the lapse. Their eye contact having broken, Elsa was now looking fixedly down at the floor. Alright then. Time to try a different approach.
"Elsa, sweetheart, tell me this: Do you feel like you're ready to leave your room? I don't mean your infrequent excursions, either. I mean do you feel comfortable enough to come out and join your mother and Anna and me again, every day. And don't tell me what you think I want to hear. Please, just answer me honestly."
The room remained quiet for so long that Agdar was sure that he had only hit another dead end. Then, Elsa shook her head. Only once, and barely more than an inch of movement, but he had his answer.
Encouraged, and not wanting to lose this tenuous avenue of communication, he tried another question which he felt certain would be easier for his girl to answer. "Are you comfortable with your mother continuing to come here to visit you?" This time, the nod came quickly and with more certainty.
Now, the question that stood every chance of breaking his heart. "Is if okay if I continue to visit you as well?" There was a painful pause this time. Agdar had to struggle to remain outwardly calm and impassive, though his guts roiled in dread of the answer. When it finally came, he very nearly collapsed. Elsa had nodded.
He needed quite a while to collect himself again before he could ask his next question. It didn't help that he knew this might be the hardest one for his daughter to answer so far. "What about Anna? Do you want to let her come in now too?"
Elsa's face shifted. All this time, it had remained fairly neutral, revealing nothing more than a vague nervousness. Now, however, a series of emotions flickered across it in rapid succession – confusion, doubt, loneliness, longing, fear. As her internal debate played out across her features, the king's heart went out to his daughter. He had just opened his mouth to tell her that she didn't need to answer him right at this moment, when her response finally came.
She didn't nod. Nor did she shake her head. For the first time since his arrival, she spoke. "I don't know, Papa." The quavering in her voice was more than Agdar could bear. In an instant, he was across the room, kneeling in front of her, gripping her gloved hands in his own.
"It's alright, Elsa. It's alright. I know this is hard. Your mother and I don't want you to do anything that makes you uncomfortable. And there's no hurry. You can take as much time as you need. I think if Anna's proven anything over the last two years, it's that she's willing to wait for you too, as long as that takes. She's not going anywhere."
The king was only mildly surprised when that comment actually brought a weak smile to Elsa's lips. "I assume it's alright if she at least continues to visit outside your door?" At that, she nodded emphatically. "Good," he said, smiling warmly at his daughter. "Because even if you had said no, I'm not sure anything could actually have stopped her from doing that."
Elsa actually laughed, the corners of her eyes crinkling fondly at thoughts of her stubborn little sister. "Anna never has been good at taking no for an answer."
"No," the king agreed. "But she comes by her willfulness honestly. Both her parents can be quite bullheaded as well."
Elsa's smile dimmed slightly. "I wish I had more of that confidence."
"Oh, never mistake stubbornness for confidence," Agdar corrected her. "Some of the most hardheaded people I've ever met maintain their obstinacy precisely because they're afraid that they could be wrong. So they steadfastly hold to their position, against all evidence and odds, for fear of looking like they made a mistake. Believe me, because I include myself in that list. Admitting you're wrong can be one of the hardest things to do."
Elsa nodded, appearing to consider her father's words thoughtfully. Then, as if deciding that such contemplation could wait for later, she abruptly changed subjects. "Speaking of Anna, I've been watching some of your lessons out in the courtyard."
Her father blinked, momentarily thrown by the sudden topic shift. "Oh?" Then he glanced over his shoulder at the large triangular window, and his brain finally made the connection. "Oh!" For some inexplicable reason, he felt heat rising into his face. "I didn't realize we had an audience."
"I hope you don't mind. It's just that the three of you all seem to be having such a good time. And everything's been so serious around here for so long, it was good to see everyone enjoying themselves like that. I feel bad sometimes that this whole place has become so gloomy because of me."
"Oh, Elsa. I wish you wouldn't think like that. None of us blame you for the way things are. They're just..." He struggled for words before finally finishing, rather lamely, "...the way they are."
"I know. But... Well, my feelings are what they are too. I can't always help it." She let her eyes fall a little, and lapsed into silence for a moment. When she lifted her gaze a few seconds later, however, her father could see a glimmer and a sparkle in them that hadn't been there before. "Can I show you something?"
"Of course, princess," he said, and then watched as she hurried over to her desk, pulled open a drawer, and drew out a sheaf of papers.
She turned to face him again, holding the sheets against her chest. "I've only been doing this for a couple of months now, so I'm still learning. And some of these are pretty rough. And most of them aren't quite done yet. In fact, maybe I should just..."
She had half turned back to the desk when her father spoke. "Elsa," he said kindly, "may I take a look? Please?" Hesitantly, she walked back over to him and held out the pages. He took them from her carefully and began to examine each one.
The first appeared to be a loose caricature of a man. He was extremely short, but his head was very long. A few tufts of what looked like hair stuck straight up from the top of his otherwise bald head. His nose was very long and pointed, and his arms were... Oh, his arms were sticks! Now it made sense. It wasn't a man, after all. Well, not exactly. It was a snowman!
He moved on to the next page and recognized this subject immediately. He had, after all, been the one to commission it for his girls four or five years ago now. It was the little redhaired doll with the twin braids. While the previous sketch had been very sparse of line, it was clear that far more time had been put into this one. The level of detail was far greater, right down to detailing around the hem of the skirt and the freckles sprinkled across the cheeks.
Shifting that sheet to the back of the pile, he glanced at the third drawing. Then he stopped and looked again, much closer this time. It was the figure of a person, though not nearly as detailed as the doll had been. The legs were spread well apart with the body's weight clearly placed on the one in front, in the middle of lunging forward. The right arm was pulled back part way across the chest, and in the hand was a long, thin object. Light pencil lines suggested the drapes and folds of clothing that had not yet been completed. And the head was just an oval, clearly another of the parts that Elsa had mentioned was still unfinished. But still...
"Elsa," Agdar asked, still looking at the picture. "Is this... me?"
The princess nodded. "Uh huh. Sorry about the head. Faces are really hard. It's something I hope to come back to once I get more practice. I was just trying to get the pose right, you see, and..."
"You drew these?" her father asked, now looking up at his daughter. "All of these?"
Elsa nodded again. "Anna bought me a whole assortment of pencils for my birthday. She thought it might be something fun for me to do. And she was right. I'm still not that good yet, but I'm hoping if I keep up at it..."
"Sweetheart, these are wonderful," the king enthused. "I... I never knew that you..."
Now Elsa shrugged, looking slightly embarrassed at her father's praise. "I didn't, until just recently. It just started as something to pass the time, but then I found myself enjoying it more and more."
Agdar lowered his gaze again and flipped through the sketches once more. Then he looked up at his daughter, and there was no mistaking the pride on his face. "Elsa, I am so glad you found something like this that you love. If there's anything I can do, anything you need to keep this going, you let me know, okay?"
"Well," she began a little sheepishly, "there's one thing that I'd been meaning to ask Mother about but never quite got around to. You see, I've been using the spyglass that she got me to help draw things that I see out my window. But it's a little awkward having to switch between it and the pencils all the time, and..."
"A mount for your spyglass?" Agdar asked. The princess nodded. "Consider it done. Is there anything else?" Elsa thought for a moment before shaking her head.
The king handed the pages back. Elsa took them gingerly. Then suddenly, that look of undirected anxiety reappeared on her face. It was as if she had exhausted the few ideas she'd had for topics of conversation, and now was beginning to panic about what to do next.
So he reached out and brushed his daughter's cheek with the back of one finger. She closed her eyes at the touch, but he was relieved that she did not pull away. "We'll get through this, Elsa," he said reassuringly. "The road ahead might not always be clear., but we'll find it together. As a family. Okay?"
She couldn't quite hide the doubt on her face, but she nodded nevertheless. Then, taking her father completely by surprise, she stepped forward and wrapped her arms around his neck. "Thank you, Papa," she whispered into his ear.
King Agdar drew her into an embrace of his own, holding her tight in hopes that it might help ease her insecurities, even just a little. Then, in a whisper of his own, he replied, "Thank you for giving me another chance, Elsa. I will do my very best not to let you down again."
Father and daughter clung to each other for a very long time, each enjoying the simple warmth of the other's presence. Neither wanted to let go. Both knew that they really never would.