A/N: A biiiiig thank you to Hunhund for betaing the crap of the last chapter and putting up with me.
Also, a certain sentence was inspired by my good friend, pond21 ;) thanks for that!
"So after I said that, she kind of just walked out, and I haven't seen her since..."
"God dammit, Anna!" Ariel threw her arms up in extreme frustration. "Why the hell would you say that? That's like tossing all the effort you've put into your relationship with her straight out the window into the fiery pit of hell."
"I've sort of been asking myself that, too," Anna replied, hugging the down pillow that was crushed between her arms even tighter. Her body ached all over, and it was not just from the abuse that she was enduring from those two insufferable chunks of flesh that were supposed to pass for children. A different kind of ache was pulsating through her, one she could only attribute as longing, because a piece of her was missing, leaving a bottomless hole that wouldn't heal over. In fact, the more time passed, the more it seemed to widen.
She missed Elsa's warmth beside her on the couch, when they were lazily lounging around, doing nothing productive but everything constructive. She missed the sound of Elsa's breathing, the soft pound of her heart that sped up ever so slightly whenever Anna dipped her head close enough to hear it. She missed the soothing chime that was Elsa's laugh, the soft lullaby that was Elsa's voice.
Well, that was Anna's own fault, wasn't it? If she hadn't said those horrible things—
"But it was only because Elsa was treating me like—like—like I was one of her subjects! Like my opinion didn't matter, like I'm a pest that she would love to kill but can't. So I only said what she was feeling! I bet she wishes I was dead." With that, the sniffles came again, with no less force than they had when Elsa walked out on her a week ago. "I bet she hates me now."
Dammit, pull yourself together.
"Well, you deserve it, don't you?" Ariel growled. "You even stood her up on your birthday."
And Anna would be lying if she said she didn't.
"I'm sorry!" She suddenly cried.
Ariel glared at her. "Don't apologize to me! Apologize to that girl whose eyes turn to liquid warmth whenever they look at you!"
But she couldn't.
After Anna's week of enacting a war of who-could-ignore-the-other-the-longest with Elsa, Gerda had apparently called Ariel regarding the sisters' bizarre behaviour of the past two weeks (Anna had managed to hide what she was doing for a week before Elsa had her followed), and an exasperated Ariel had deemed it important enough to return from whatever she was doing with her father in Atlanta. Or maybe she had just had enough of their utter stupidity (Anna would think she had been fed up a looong time ago).
"You said she asked you to tell her what you were doing, so why didn't you?"
Anna sprung forward from her spot on the couch, leaving a slowly refilling dent in the leather. "Because! No matter what I told her, she would never have agreed to me doing it, which is why I hid it from her in the first place!"
Ariel looked at her, allegation and comprehension creeping into her sea-green eyes. "Then you don't trust Elsa either, do you?"
Anna gaped at her. "What? Of course I do! Th-that's different!"
"You didn't tell her what you were doing because you were sure that she wouldn't agree with you. You didn't trust her with this information, and you didn't trust that she would understand. You didn't even bother explaining it, did you? Because you 'knew' you wouldn't be able to rely on her."
All these definitions were making Anna's battered brain swim, thoughts spinning like a carousel out of control. "I trusted her even when I had no idea what was going on with her! For fourteen years!"
"I think you've confused 'trusting' and 'believing'. Believing in her is different from trusting her, Anna. If Elsa were coming home everyday with injuries on her elbows and knees, would you condone what she was doing? Maybe you'd believe that whatever she's doing is most likely sensible and rational, but would you trust her to let her continue doing it? That's what trust is, Anna. Putting the thing you love most into the hands of another, and knowing that they will keep it safe."
Anna rubbed her eyes and stifled a yawn. Seriously, twelve insufferable hours with two insufferable kids was more than enough to leave her crawling back into the condo at the end of the day, and she did not need this discussion right now. Ironically, the fatigue did grant her peaceful sleep, and sleep was the only time of the day when she didn't miss Elsa. If she had a choice, she'd sleep through all her Elsa-less days.
At least Ariel could read body language better than Elsa. She got up from her seat across from Anna, and gave the younger girl a pat on the head, which elicited the return of the sniffles. Anna couldn't remember the last time Elsa had done that for her. "Have you tried talking to her?" Ariel asked, as she collected her things from the closet by the doorway.
"I'm too busy," Anna wailed, "and she's too busy."
"You're never too busy for texts, Anna," Ariel said, pulling on her jacket. Although it was July, the night was still chilly enough to warrant an extra layer. "You haven't texted her at all, have you?"
Anna stared at the ground, watching her toes wiggle and dig into the soft fur of the white sheepskin rug. She did owe Elsa an apology; that was for sure. But she didn't want Elsa to think it was for what she was doing, not what she had said. She was not sorry that she had gone to meet Cruella De Vil behind Elsa's back, and she wasn't sorry that she was coming home with harmless bruises and scrapes every night. And evidently, Elsa wasn't going to back down either; her silence was a testament to that.
"Just talk to her, Anna?" Ariel sighed from the doorway. Anna wondered if Ariel was having déjà vu, for she was sure Ariel had admonished the same of Elsa only a month ago. "Elsa can be stubborn as an ox sometimes, but I'm sure you know that already."
"No," Anna shook her head with the miniscule remainder of her energy, "I'm not apologizing for what I'm doing."
As if she were psychic, Ariel asserted, "But you do need to apologize for what you said. God, Anna, does stupidity run in the family? You do know that Elsa lov—" she paused, and corrected, "—needs you more than her own life, right?"
Really? Because Anna hadn't seen much evidence of that save for the suspicious men in black that were tailing her from the moment she left the condo building. Which, in all honesty, was just another hurdle for her, because she had to spend extra time trying to lose them. But there was no way she was going to back down from this, and she knew that deep down, Elsa wasn't going to agree anytime soon. "Good night, Ariel," Anna said, with half a mind to just curl up on the sofa and save herself the work of lugging herself to Elsa's bedroom (where she had been wallowing in self-pity but unable to leave it because it was the closest thing to Elsa she had. Pathetic, right?).
"Good night," Ariel smiled back, and moved to leave. Then she stopped halfway. "I don't know if you absorbed anything I said tonight, but I'd like to leave one more thought with you. The reason Elsa has trouble trusting you is because, well, she's afraid of putting the one thing she loves most in anyone's hands but hers."
"What, herself?" Anna asked dryly.
"No, you stupid idiot. You." Then the door clicked shut.
She finally understood Elsa's comment about emptiness. Without Elsa there, the whole house was cold and hollow. It didn't matter that Anna was still there. It was like an all-or-nothing kind of thing. Both of them there made the house full to the brim, but if one was missing it wasn't even half empty. There was just…nothing. Plain old nothing.
Anna hugged herself, the downy pillow clutched tightly between her knees and her chest. That did stick with her—more like stabbed her, actually, and tears pricked at her eyes (which would have resulted in the fifth night in a row where she cried herself to sleep—definitely pathetic). And then she had an idea, a thought, an urge, a craving that she couldn't ignore. Springing to her feet, she ran to Elsa's room, grabbed the soft, sky-blue comforter, and raced out the door, sparing only a moment to dash the moisture out of her eyes with the back of her hand.
She cleared the stairs in an instant, and arrived at the rooftop, surprising herself with the amount of energy this idea lit inside her. She collapsed on her back, head resting on the pillow with the comforter wrapped snugly around her, eyes fixed on a cluster of white Christmas lights in the black canvas, blinking hopefully at it as if there was a gift to be found beneath them.
Which, in a sense, there was.
Then she closed her eyes, a single teardrop making its way out under the lids.
"Mark, there seems to be a hurricane at the doors of the lobby," Elsa grumbled into her phone. Though she had been expecting it, she did not need this right now. Or ever.
"I don't see anything, President," Mark said back.
"Please, don't let anything into my office," Elsa ordered defeatedly, knowing that no force was great enough to stop a hurricane of this magnitude.
Sure enough, within minutes she was hearing the approach of a whirlwind.
"Ms. del Rey, you know you're always welcome, but even you have to abide by rules! The President does not wish to be disturbed right now, so I'm sorry, but—"
Elsa heard the impatient snap of Ariel's voice, and measured the beat of her own heart against the frenzy of furious footsteps that were nearing her office.
"Well, your President has to know that she doesn't always get what she wants. Now get out of the way before you become collateral damage."
She didn't hear any further protest from Mark; she knew firsthand how frightening Ariel could be when she was angry. And angry, she was indeed.
So Elsa waited until her door exploded open to a red-faced Ariel and an apologetic Mark. She turned to face her friend, and dismissed her PA with a wave of her arm. It didn't take a rocket scientist to figure out why her friend had cut her trip back home short, but then again, that wasn't something Elsa was ready to discuss. She braced herself for Ariel's volley of outrage.
"What the hell, Elsa?"
Well, there it was. Those words sank into her like salt on an open wound, and Ariel hadn't even broached the topic yet. But acting was what Elsa was good at, so without missing a beat, she smiled and asked, "How was your trip, Ariel? How's your leg?" Probably wonderful, judging by the forceful way Ariel had barged in.
"Oh, so I'm speaking with run-away-from-everything Elsa. It's nice to know," Ariel hissed, eyes narrowing. "Here I thought you'd maybe grown up just a smidge, but you're still the same coward who's afraid to face yourself."
Elsa's jaw twitched. So this is how they were going to play it, then. "I was trying to be courteous."
"You're being courteous to the wrong person."
She heaved a sigh, "I suppose you're here to rebuke me? I suggest you skip that; I can already guess what you're going to say. Everything's fine."
"Is this is how it's going to be? You, back to pretending all's good and well? I didn't have you figured for a complete idiot, Elsa. Is it time to reevaluate?"
"If that's all you're here for, then you're free to leave, Ariel. I don't need this right now."
"No, you don't," Ariel agreed bitterly, "You've thrown away what you do need. Really, Elsa, what the hell? Why do you always wait for something bad to happen before you talk to her? The longer you wait, the more it's going to fester, and you know that!"
"I'm not apologizing," Elsa said flatly, arms crossed. She held Ariel's narrowed eyes steadily, despite the angry throb of some invisible cut protesting against her.
"My god, the two of you are like children! 'She started it'! It's not about that, Elsa! I'm not asking you to apologize. I'm asking you to talk to her! Figure out a solution that works for both of you! Do you even understand what communication is?
"I know you want to protect her. I get that. But wouldn't it be easier if she's willing? The way it is now, you're trying to force her! And now you've ended up in a chasm that neither of you wants to be in, but neither of you wants to ask for the other's help to get out. Do you see my position here?"
"Yes," Elsa said. And she didn't say any more. Couldn't.
There was a heavy sigh, like air escaping from a swollen balloon. "The girl that's busting her ass trying to help you is the best thing that's ever happened to you, Elsa, and don't even try to deny that."
She didn't, because she didn't allow herself to dwell on that sentiment long enough for it to draw blood. "I didn't ask her to," she conceded instead.
"Yeah? Well, she sure as hell didn't ask you to be the heir for her, either. She didn't ask you to carry all of the pressure, did she? You've been doing for her what she's trying to do for you, weren't you? So why won't you let her do the same?"
"Because!" Elsa ejected, as if the word in itself were an adequate answer.
Ariel looked her pointedly, and Elsa relented again, "I don't want her involved in any of this. That's why I do it."
"But again, Elsa, you decided that without her input! Without even hearing her side of the story! You really don't trust her at all, do you?"
"I do," she insisted, eyes as intense as her confidence in the statement.
"Then why can't you trust that she knows what she's doing?"
"Because I don't want her to do any of this in the first place! My point, Ariel, is that the people my family are involved with—they're dangerous! I've been trying my entire life to keep her out of this world, to give her a 'normal' life—"
"Normal?" Ariel echoed with undisguised contempt, the word turning into poison on her tongue. "You think she wants 'normal'? Birthday parties and sleepovers—you think that's what she wants? My god, Elsa, you are so much more idiotic than I figured you for."
Elsa was lost for a moment—sincerely and utterly confused. She discarded her battle armour and let herself stare blankly in genuine surprise. "What?"
"And you're supposed to be this genius heir of some billionaire corporation? God dammit, Elsa! How is it that you couldn't see such an obvious truth? A truth that has been right under your nose for eighteen years?"
"What?" Elsa spewed again. Then she straightened and donned her barriers once more. "Really, Ariel, I have better things to do than trying to decipher what it is that I'm apparently too blind to see. Because I have to be at a conferen—"
"'Normal' is never something that Anna's wanted, Elsa! All she's ever wanted—" Elsa imagined warily that it may be hard to get words out between gritted teeth. "—All she's ever wanted is to just be with her older sister!"
The statement was almost devastating in all its authenticity; it was as tangible and painful as a incendiary arrow that pierced through the crack in her walls, effortlessly shattering all of her resolve, leaving a trail of hot ash in its wake.
Wow. Wow. The moment the words reached Elsa's ear was the moment she realized their truthfulness. There was no doubt that all Anna has ever tried to do was to be closer to Elsa. Elsa closed her eyes, feeling the cold steel of truth carve its shapeless mark into her. Had she really been that blind? All this time, she had believed Anna had wanted an ordinary life, because that was what Elsa had wanted. Had she been mistaken about that, too? Or that was the same truth within herself, as well? Was her craving for a normal life fueled by the desire to finally be able to be with her younger sister, with no lies or pain between them?
"And I'm not talking about the half-assed kind of 'be' that you're—" Ariel continued, flinging out words faster than Elsa could catch them.
"I know," Elsa heard herself say. And was shocked when she saw that Ariel had believed her, and was waiting for her to continue. She didn't know how she found her voice the first time, but she couldn't make her throat work again.
"If you really want to be with her, then you're going to have to let her in. Let her help."
"I know," Elsa said again, robotically. Was that all she could say? Again, and again, like a broken record player, stuck desperately repeating the last song its owner played in a futile attempt to seem competent.
"So I think it's time you texted her," Ariel replied haughtily.
And then Elsa remembered the emotional state that she had left in, a week ago, and couldn't reclaim the confidence to return to that level of turmoil. She had left for the same reason she always left (or so she tried to convince herself)—because she hadn't wanted to say something she would come to regret later. And not because she couldn't mentally bear any more verbal assault from the girl whose life she saw as more valuable than her own. Not because she was still a coward.
"I will," was what she managed to reconcile, between the newly discovered truth about her sister, and the low level of readiness to prod at a bleeding wound. A week—one more week. And then hopefully the broken pieces of herself would have healed enough to withstand some more bullet wounds. Anna was her glue, Elsa realized—she kept Elsa together.
Without Anna, she was reduced to a pile of shattered mirror fragments—with all the danger of splintered glass and none of the clarity as to who she was.
Cruella De Vil's mansion was very much like her office: furs mounted on gold plates lining every hallway, ceilings made of stained glass and busts of De Vil ancestors in every visible corner, which was hugely nostalgic of Arendelle Manor to Anna when she first entered the house, but she didn't exactly have time to dwell on that because a bucket of water landed on top of her head shortly after.
Now, she sidestepped the same bucket the same way she'd been doing for the past week, dodged the oil 'spilled' on the tiles in front of her, and watched the floors for sharp pieces of Lego or limbs of plastic figurines intentionally scattered in an attempt to scare her off.
She wasn't sure whether she'd rather be here or at home. It was all the same, anyways, wasn't it? All she would go home to was an empty dinner table and a house that felt too big for her. Though that really was the result of her own thoughtlessness. The more time passed, the more tempting the idea of giving in became.
But she was going to fight this to the very end. She could do the apologizing for her words after this whole ordeal was over, after she's done with the tiring chore of tolerating Ivy and Cecil De Vil. Didn't anyone pick up after them? There were maids in this house; Anna had seen them scurrying about trying to avoid the Twin Tornados, but weren't they sufficient in just watching the kids? The security detail at the mansion was enough to ensure that they didn't run off, and the maids could do the picking-up-after (which they did, they just had trouble keeping up sometimes). Obviously Cruella De Vil didn't need another maid or a guard for those kids.
Was it because she thought they needed a playmate? Anna had asked one of the maids whose kids Ivy and Cecil were, and the only answer she got was that they were Cruella's niece and nephew. What happened to their parents?
To be honest, they weren't that bad anymore. And they did keep her occupied with new tricks and traps for her to thwart. But they weren't as malicious now as they were playful, which was the exact opposite when she first stepped foot in the mansion. It was almost as if they had never had someone bear this long with them, and were running out of clever antics to drive her away with. Anna wondered if that was the case.
"Keep it up, but it won't be enough to get me to leave," Anna yelled at the floor above when she discovered that the inside of her backpack was covered with a sticky green slime. Nevertheless, there was nothing of import inside, just a change of clothes in case she let down her guard and a bottle of water, which wasn't all that necessary since she was offered drinks and food during her shift anyway.
She could imagine Ivy and Cecil exchanging that almighty sister-brother glance, the one they shot at each other whenever they were planning something mischievous (which was very often, to be honest).
"We don't want you here!" A voice called from above. Ivy, Anna had guessed, since the older sister usually did most of the talking. She hadn't heard them talking very often.
That was in the middle of the week, roughly three days after her little kerfuffle (a gross understatement) with Elsa, and Anna was pretty much fed up with their lack of cooperation, when she finally lost it. "Yeah? You know what, I don't wanna be here, either! But we don't always get what we want, okay? So why don't you two brats just suck it up and accept that I'm not going anywhere until this summer is over!"
Then the body of a little nine-year-old girl in a skirt and pigtails appeared at the foot of the stairs, arms crossed, looking very annoyed. Her eyes reminded Anna very much of Cruella De Vil's narrowed hostility. Did all older sisters spout the same irritated look? Was there some Older Sister Handbook that all elder female siblings had?
Ivy looked like she had prepared something to say, but instead, she ran back up the stairs.
But since then, the quagmires had subsided into a more whimsical sort, so Anna figured that they either decided to tolerate her, or they were running out of the pernicious ones. She hoped it was the former.
She tiptoed up the stairs, expecting there to be more booby traps hiding in the shadows, but there were none. It was as if they had set up their daily dose of ruses halfway, and suddenly lost interest.
Their bedroom was just down the hall. Also, Anna found it strange that they shared one bedroom, when the De Vil mansion had about a billion bedrooms. Okay, not a billion, but around twenty (probably); Anna hadn't really had time to count. The point was, they hadn't really needed to share.
The sound of soft sniffling stopped her cold.
"Suck it up, Cecil!" Anna recognized Ivy's shrill tone. "They're not coming back, okay? They're dead. They're dead, and they're not coming back!"
"I miss them! I want Mommy and Daddy!" The seven-year-old boy sobbed. "Bring them back! It's not fair! It's not fair!"
Oh...their parents. That explains quite a lot.
"Stop crying!" The harsh sympathy in Ivy's voice inflected to hard castigation. "You're such a crybaby! Just stop it!"
Anna's eyes were stinging, involuntary empathy filling her entire being. The vacant gnawing that was the feeling of wanting to see someone who would never come back. The hollow yearning that would never be occupied again, because there was no replacement, no substitute to block that hole. The sensation was something like falling from a sixty-story building, the weightlessness, the fleeting ethereality and then ending in a bone-crunching impact with the impassive ground. Devastating, overwhelming, depressing, crushing pain all rolled into a suffocating smoke that congested not just the lungs, but the entire body. Every blood vessel, every muscle had to work extra hard just to survive.
And then that phase where you're just angry. Angry at life for being so fickle. Angry at the world. Angry at yourself. Angry at everyone else who couldn't do a thing. So angry that you don't want to have anything to do with anyone else, and you just withdraw from the entire world. Thank god Anna had Elsa, or she would never have been able to escape the shadow of their father's death, even though she didn't know how to feel about him now. She cut that train of thought short before she would end up languishing in self-pity again.
And then she suddenly understood why these kids were so desperate to drive away all the companions that their Aunt appointed for them: They only wanted family. They wanted Cruella De Vil to spend time with them. Because she was all they had left.
Anna peered inside the kids' bedroom to find the small black-haired boy in the fetal position against the frame of his bed, Ivy hovering angrily over him. Kids didn't understand death. Kids didn't know how to deal with grief. Even adults sometimes didn't know how to deal with grief. Like Anna's mother. She was never quite the same after Josef died, even though Anna couldn't really remember her parents being very close in the first place, because they were so busy.
"Stop," Anna said softly, looking at Ivy.
Ivy returned her stare with a defensive glower. "What are you doing here? Leave us alone!"
"Your brother needs you to comfort him," Anna whispered, edging closer to the young siblings, "Not get mad at him."
"He's being stupid! He wants our parents to come back, but everyone said they'll never come home again. There's not point in wanting something that's impossible!" Ivy hissed, eyes jumping between her brother and Anna.
Anna leaned down and tentatively rested her hand on the little boy's trembling shoulder, staring deliberately at Ivy. "He needs to know that you're going through the same thing. He needs to know that you understand. He needs to know that it'll be okay."
"Don't touch my brother!" Ivy struck at Anna's arm, but to everyone's surprise, Cecil clung to it, holding fast. "Cecil…you…"
"I miss them," he choked, his hand forming a fist around Anna's index finger, running his sleeve across his eyes.
"I understand," she murmured. She had nothing else to say, for she was never really in charge of the comforting. That had always been Elsa's…job. Stop it, brain, she grumbled to himself. She instinctively patted his head with her other hand, and his close-cropped hair pricked harmlessly at her palm. Without thinking, she blurted. "Come with me."
He looked up, eyes red. "Where?"
She smiled. "To see your aunt. She's the only family you have left now, right?" Anna shot a careful glance at Ivy.
Ivy's eyes were red now, too. And she nodded fervently. She rubbed her arm nervously as she watched Anna's hand around her brother's.
Anna let her smile spread. She really shouldn't be smiling at a time like this, but she was known for her eccentric and inappropriate reactions. She extended a hand toward the girl, and waited for Ivy to take it.
And take it, she did.
"You really think she cares?" Cecil asked, eyes squinting at the tall office building underneath the rain of sunshine.
"I know she does," Anna reassured him. Cruella De Vil did not have to hire a babysitter for them. She did it because (Anna inferred) she hadn't wanted the children to be lonely after their parents' recent death. Maybe Cruella expressed her love for them in these displays of thoughtfulness: letting them share a bedroom, appointing a companion, allowing them to run amok in her house.
"Sometimes I wonder if she even likes us," Ivy admitted, staring at her sneakers.
"Of course she does," Anna said, still smiling. "She just has strange ways of showing it."
Just like Elsa.
No, you stop that right now.
Dammit, why did every topic always loop back to Elsa?
Anna would have smacked a palm against her forehead at how pathetic she was, both her hands were occupied by the De Vil siblings at either side. She would have to settle for shaking her head to clear her thoughts. Cruella. Cruella De Vil. That was what she needed to focus on right now.
"So why did you agree to babysit us?" Ivy asked after they passed through the sliding glass doors. "And why are you so determined to stay?"
Of all the questions, of course she has to ask this one. "I'm doing it for someone."
"Someone important?"
"Someone very important."
They (thankfully) approached Jasper at the reception desk, and he looked up as they neared. "You," he growled. He must still be butt-hurt about the missing keycard, Anna thought wryly. "What are you doing back here?"
"Hey, you're not allowed to talk to her like that," Ivy shouted. "Don't make me tell my aunt to fire you."
Anna had to hold back a snicker. Ivy's commanding tone reminded her so much of…
…God dammit, Elsa.
Jasper had to lean forward and peer over the top of the counter to see the kids at Anna's sides. "Oh, my apologies," he said quickly, pressing a button at his desk. The elevator dinged and the doors opened. "Please go ahead," he offered, before dialling the number that was undoubtedly Horace's, to announce their visit.
Horace was already waiting for them on the top floor, pulling Anna aside to hiss, "What were you thinking? Bringing them here? The whole point of you babysitting is so that they don't have to be here!"
"Has it occurred to you that they need their aunt, and there's not one who can substitute for her?" Anna grumbled back.
"Her Presidency does not wish to see them."
"That's a lie. Let me talk to her."
Horace's earpiece screeched, and he grimaced. "Yes, Ma'am. No, no, of course not. I—I understand." He gestured for Anna to pass, and smiled uncomfortably at the children glaring impatiently at him.
Cruella De Vil was reclining in her leather chair, but abruptly stood when Anna entered, her jewelry jangling as she moved. "Ms. Arendelle. Do I need to remind you what 'babysitting' means?"
"Please, President, just hear me out," Anna pleaded, fighting a strong urge to fiddle with her fingers or dig them into her pockets.
"Well, speak then."
Two weeks ago, Anna would never have imagined that President Cruella De Vil would have even given her the time of day. Now, one encounter and two weeks of babysitting later, she knew better than to believe all the information she had read about the seemingly cold Board Member on Elsa's computer. There was more to her than hoarding rare furs and skins. Cruella De Vil had been kind to her niece and nephew, in her own way. Beneath every hard shell there was a soft heart. "I was never informed that they had lost their parents," Anna began cautiously.
"My brother and his wife passed very suddenly," Mrs. De Vil snapped. "That has nothing to do with this."
"Yes, it does!" Anna tried, but she couldn't contain the volume of her outburst. What was it with CEOs lying to themselves? "It has everything to do with this! It's why Ivy and Cecil have been driving away every person you've appointed for them! Don't you see, Mrs. De Vil? They only have you, now. You're their only family. And no one can substitute for family."
"So what are you suggesting, Ms. Arendelle?" Cruella De Vil said placidly.
"Maybe you could spend some time with them." Anna wondered if she would sound too presumptuous if she'd said I know you love them too, but decided to declare it anyway. "Start by going home a little earlier. Take them to the amusement park or the aquarium on the weekend."
"And what makes you think I have time for that?"
"Because you're kind, Mrs. De Vil," Anna asserted emphatically. She crossed her arms. "Kinder than you let on."
"I…" For once, Cruella De Vil seemed to be at a loss for words. "I don't know how to be a parent for them," she admitted finally, surprising Anna and herself.
Anna blinked; as much as she believed her insistence, it was still a shock to hear Mrs. President Cruella De Vil confessing something so sensitive to her, a complete stranger. "Just be there for them," she suggested. "It's not that hard. You only have each other now." So you should cherish them, because they're all you have left.
Anna watched as the fashion aficionado gave a curt nod, reassuming her air of confidence and pride. "I suppose there's no harm in trying," Cruella allowed. "Since they're already here, why don't you take the rest of the day off? I'll take them home later."
Anna's eyes widened. "R-really? You—I can go?"
"Well, if you don't want to…"
"No! I mean, I'd love to come with, but you should have some time alone. It's just…wow. I knew—I knew you were a softie down there."
Cruella's eyes narrowed in what could be interpreted as indignity or irritation. "Don't get ahead of yourself, Ms. Arendelle. You are dismissed."
Anna muttered a quick apology and turned to leave. When she reached the threshold of the door, Cruella De Vil spoke again.
"And, Ms. Arendelle…thank you."
Having weekends off was a bit of a breather for Anna; before, she was expected to accompany Ivy and Cecil on Saturdays and Sundays as well. But now, she had learned even the coldest shell was only that—a shell. Everyone was a lot happier once Cruella started making an effort to spend some much-needed quality time with her niece and nephew.
So this weekend, she decided (against every last speck of her better judgement) to pay a visit to another member of the board.
"Anna, yer crazy, yuh are," Merida challenged as they stopped in front of Shan Yu's oriental castle.
He'd kept the traditional architecture of his ancestors, Anna noted, taking in the animals on the hipped golden eaves, the imperial red and auric shine on the painted wooden beams, the perfect symmetry of the exterior. She had a sneaking suspicion that she would probably be slaughtered if she and her friends approached from the main entrance. Saturday nights were the perfect time for breaking and entering.
"Maybe there's a hole in the brick wall somewhere," Anna said, surveying the solid barrier and ignoring Merida's miffed chides.
"Anna, you said that Elsa's already mad at you for going to Cruella De Vil's office. She is going to be furious if she finds out that you're visiting Shan Yu. It seems he's a hundred times more dangerous," Rapunzel added skeptically.
"'When' Elsa finds out," Aurora corrected, adding to the building ache of forebode.
"You're such an idiot," Meg sighed. "All of this for Elsa. Haven't you considered that she doesn't need nor want your help?"
"It doesn't matter if she wants it," Anna insisted. "I won't forgive myself if I don't try."
"Yeah, and she can regret not seeing you for more than two weeks at your funeral," Rapunzel scoffed. "Seriously, have you talked to her?"
"I will! After all this is done. Now, are you guys going to help me or not? I just need to get Shan Yu alone."
"Yeah, Anna, if his security's bad enough that we can find a way in then he's doing something wrong," Merida grunted.
"We should've brought Herc, Eugene and Kris," Rapunzel commented. "They could probably help us muscle our way in."
"If we muscled our way in, we'd get killed in an instant," Aurora mumbled. "Let's just walk around the wall. Split up into groups?"
"Good idea. Rapunzel, you go with Anna and make sure she doesn't do something stupid and take that side," Meg proposed, "Me, Aurora and Merida will take the other side."
"Have you told Ariel what you're planning?" Rapunzel asked as the group split and skirted around opposite directions of the palace-like structure.
"No," Anna confessed, shoulders slumping slightly. It seemed that everyone was against what she was doing lately. Did no one trust her? "She'd probably tell me it's a stupid idea."
"It is," Rapunzel declared, tapping a brick with her knuckle. The glow from her flashlight quickly brushed over the stone slabs, and once she found no chink, she moved on, Anna in tow.
"Gee, thanks," Anna quibbled. "As if I didn't have enough people mad at me."
"Still, I can't believe you would say that. That's like, the worst thing you could say to Elsa after all she's done for you."
"I know!" Anna cried. "I've told myself that a million times already, so let's just skip to the part where I wallow in my misery, okay?"
"As if you haven't been doing that already," Rapunzel chaffed, shining her light toward the top of the wall. "What if we hopped over?"
"There's probably electric wiring at the top of the wall," Anna mumbled. Although she definitely wouldn't mind being zapped right now, if that meant her heart would stop tormenting her with memories and thoughts of Elsa. "I just wish that I could do more than just wither in my guilt."
"Look, I know it's hard right now, but it's certainly better than having no feelings at all, right?"
"Is it? Is it, Punzel? Because I wouldn't mind trying that 'no feelings' thing." She furrowed her brows and squinted as her light danced over a break in the wiring above the wall. "Does that look broken to you?"
"Yeah, I think it is," Rapunzel replied. "Huh. Wait here."
She returned shortly after, with a metal golf ball retriever in a gloved hand and their other friends behind her.
"Well, that's really broken," Aurora said, shining her flashlight at the disconnect between the two identical sides. A disrupted circuit, with both sides trying to do the same thing, but neither achieving it without the other.
Rapunzel extended the golf ball retriever and pushed aside the wires on either side. "One person could probably hop over," she said slowly.
There was no doubt as to who would go. "Boost me up," Anna prompted her friends.
"Wait, Anna, I really don't think this is a good idea," Aurora implored, "If you go over, there's no way back except for through the front door. Elsa would really not like this. We don't like this."
"I don't care what Elsa would like," Anna retorted, even though she did. It was just—she'd promised herself she would do this or die trying, so here goes nothing. "If you guys don't help me, then I'm just going to waltz in through the front door myself, which is probably more dangerous. And don't you guys even think about calling Elsa. If you do, I'm unfollowing our friendship forever."
There was a unanimous sigh of defeat.
"If you don't make it out, should we tell her you love her?" Megara asked blandly.
"'Love' doesn't even begin to cover it, but sure," Anna said, stepping on the thighs of a crouched Merida and Rapunzel, and then the outstretched hands of Meg and Aurora. She hoisted herself onto the wall, silently hoping that there were no pigeon spikes atop the bricks, and thank god, there weren't.
"You better make it back out in one piece, Anna," Rapunzel growled as Anna slid down the other side, out of view.
Grass. There was grass everywhere. And not the tall, friendly kind that you could hide in. The clean, fresh-cut, short kind. Dammit. Well, at least there were trees to try and blend into. The outside of the 'palace' was traditional and oriental, but the inside looked contemporarily state-of-the-art, Anna remarked, peering through a window into whatever dimly lit room it gave access to. She jiggled the frame, and to her delight it opened without much protest—it wasn't locked to begin with.
She then realized that there was probably no one brave (or stupid) enough to willingly break into the house of a notoriously dangerous mercenary, and even if they did, she imagined that most of Shan Yu's money (at least, his black market money) would be safely stowed in some obscure offshore bank.
Well, this did make it easier to find him. She crept across the room to the door, which led to a long hallway. Okay, so the man's bedroom would probably be somewhere on the top floor, right? That was where she was trying to go, until she heard a series of heartbreaking whimpers coming from below. Was there a basement?
Might as well try, right? These huge homes usually had a common stairwell that connected the floors, normally tucked away in some corner. She found it, eventually, urgently spurred by the bone-rending howls and whimpers still coming from below, as if there was someone was hurting besides herself and there was something she could do about it.
She lurked down the stairs, one step at a time, slowly and with a caution that was atypical of her, maybe because she realized how much was on the line. Her brain took this moment to recollect her first experience with escalators, and how it was one that was going down. She couldn't recall exactly how old she was, only how she was frozen with fear at the top of the rolling steps and Elsa had already gone halfway down before she realized that Anna was not with her, and she turned to go back up, taking the steel steps at twice the speed they were going down in, slightly panicking until she reached the top again.
But then Elsa had grabbed her hand, and even the way down couldn't scare her anymore.
Her mouth went dry and she swallowed, as if she could absorb the fear that was building at the back of throat. The broken cries grew louder, until she reached a large, steel door that was opened just a crack. She peered through with one eye, and it took a moment for it to adjust to the bright floodlights of the vast gray room.
There were dogs, everywhere. Dogs in cage stacked upon cage, lining the walls with the pitter-patter of paws against iron. She could make out the gray skin of Shan Yu in the middle of the room, towering about a Doberman puppy that cowered at his feet, the originator of the whimpers and howls.
"Stand," she heard Shan Yu command. The voice was low and harsh, forbidding disobedience to anyone who could understand the language.
But the puppy did not. And it lay there on the cement, head dejectedly resting on its paws, unmoving. She watched in horror as Shan Yu brandished a long whip, striking the animal again and again, eliciting howls of pain as the rope came down, and whimpers in between hits, until it no longer protested its pain, and just stared at nothing.
Anna recognized the defeat in its half-closed eyes, the way…the way Elsa had looked that night on the bathroom floor, broken and begging. Resigning herself to hurting and no longer doing anything to stop it. Was that the face that Elsa wore when their father was punishing her? Was that how Elsa had learned helplessness?
"No," she whispered before she could stop herself. "No," she said again, a little louder, when the flogging didn't. "No!" she finally yelled.
"Who the hell are you?" Something dragged her up by the collar of her shirt, and Anna thought this is it, this is it, I'm going to die, I'm going to die, and I'll never get to apologize for the horrible things I said to Elsa.
Shan Yu looked up, amber eyes scrutinizing and predatory, putting an identity to her appearance. His glare locked with her shocked gape, his form getting closer as she was dragged in front of him.
She was surprising herself a lot these days, Anna thought dryly as she fearlessly held Shan Yu's stare. If she was going to die, she would do it proudly.
Shan Yu let loose a slight smirk, showing off long canines. "President Arendelle's sister. What a delightful surprise."
"Mr…Yu," she finally managed, trying to hide the tremble in her voice.
"Let go of her, Hayabusa. That is no way to treat a lady."
And Anna was released, barely able to stand on her jittery knees.
"So," Shan Yu's tongue darted out to wet his lips, the action very much like the hiss of a serpent threatening another predator encroaching in its territory. "What brings you to trespass on my property? Not just dropping by for a quick greeting, I gather."
She wasn't going to lie her way out of this one. She never did like lying anyway. "I wanted you to cooperate with my sister."
He laughed then, throwing his head back in a mocking guffaw. "You are an interesting one. Tell me, why do you have a problem with my way of training my pet?"
"What?"
"You screamed, 'no' loud enough to wake all my dogs," Shan Yu said, with something resembling amusement. If Anna didn't know better, then she would have translated his smile as friendly.
Anna wondered if this was a trap, if he was just luring her into a false sense of security. But why would he need to do that, when he so clearly held the upper hand? She dusted her knees and scraped together what was left of her determination. "I…I don't agree with the way you were training him."
"Oh?" He rubbed his chin with his thumb. "And what, exactly, was I doing wrong?"
The words came out before she could stop herself, "Why would you punish him for not doing anything? Isn't it easier to reward him for doing something right?"
He raised an eyebrow at her. "That is how I train all my dogs. How I train my men. How I was raised by my father. Do something right, or be punished."
"No," Anna whispered, unable to disguise her horror at the inadvertent parallels. "No. He would learn much faster if you rewarded him for doing something right. Like humans, dogs thrive on affection."
He laughed again, a low bass echoing off the walls. When he looked at her again, his eyes were piercing, sharp, omniscient. She held them anyway, glaring defiantly.
"Not many people would dare look me in the eye like you are," he said, smile turning into a sneer. "Not unless they want to die."
"I'm not afraid of death," Anna countered. What she was really afraid of was already happening, so what was there to fear? But what she would give to have Elsa beside her right now. She hadn't given much thought as to how she would die, but she liked to imagine Elsa would be with her every step of the way.
Her own glare persisted against his, until finally he pulled a knife, snarling, "Shall we test that?" The cold blade pressed against her throat, but she recklessly held his eyes, staring back defiantly.
There was a prick as the knife drew blood, and the amber-eyed man looked like he was waiting for her to beg for life, to plea for forgiveness, to render submission. But she didn't. She just stared, still wishing with every boom of her pounding heart that Elsa would be with her for her last moments.
And then the blade withdrew, and Shan Yu gave her a napkin to hold against the cut, to stem the flow of blood. "Not bad," he said. "Your sister must be very important to you."
You have no idea.
"What would you like me to do?" He asked, an interested gleam replacing the carnivorous glare that was in his eyes.
Anna wondered briefly if those omnipotent eyes could see the truth behind her affection for Elsa, but she focused on her answer instead, because the consequences of their secret getting out would be too severe to fathom. "Cooperate with Elsa."
"Just let her run rampant? You need better terms than that," he said.
"Why are you listening to me in the first place?" Anna blurted, holding the tissue hard against her neck.
"You're interesting," he replied, unblinking. "And you didn't flinch when I held a knife to your throat. That's earned my respect."
Anna nodded. "I'm not asking you to comply with everything she does. I'm asking you to refrain from giving her a hard time if she makes mistakes, or if she comes up with an idea that you may be against. I would appreciate it if you'd give a second thought before deciding that she's incompetent."
He paused for a moment, before acknowledging her words with a curt tilt of his head. "That sounds slightly more reasonable. I will consider it."
"Um," Anna said nervously, catching a glimpse of the rising sun out of the skylights.
He followed her gaze. "You snuck into a lion's den just to ask me to be nicer to your sister?" There was another amused chuckle. "What did you say your name was?"
"I didn't. It's Anna."
"Well, Anna. You should probably go and get that wound bandaged. Hayabusa will escort you to the exit," he chuckled again, turning his attention back to the dog at his feet. "You are an interesting one, indeed."
"You could kill me, Hans, and get away with it, because I'm already supposed to be dead."
No, no, no.
"Why?" she cried, "Why did you come?"
"I promised," Elsa said quietly, a smile still on her lips, as if nothing else in the world mattered except Anna.
And then Anna watched, screaming, as Hans beat her to death.
She woke up, still screaming. "Elsa," she sobbed, at the empty room, burying her face in her hands. "Elsa."
She couldn't take it anymore. Couldn't take another minute away from Elsa, another second without Elsa's voice. Swiping her phone off the nightstand, she punched in Elsa's number, fingers moving by themselves, practice telling them which numbers to press. She didn't even need to have Elsa's number memorized; her fingers just moved by themselves because her body knew whom she wanted to call.
The ringing echoed in her ears, reality chasing away the shattered remnants of her nightmare. She was drenched in cold sweat, a percussion pounding in her chest. A few more rings, and then the call went to voicemail.
Hello, you've reach Elsa Arendelle. Please leave a message.
Well, that was Elsa's voice, at least.
Pathetic, too pathetic, if she were to leave a begging message for Elsa to come home now, and her thumb clicked the end call button, hugging the phone to her chest as if it were her lifeline. But she needed to see Elsa so badly. Needed to talk to Elsa. Needed to know that Elsa didn't hate her.
She opened Skype, and hoped that the nostalgic medium would be enough for Elsa to sympathize with her plight.
She pondered what to say, but she really didn't need to. Her heart, her hands, her thumbs knew what she needed to say before her mind even conjured it.
Snowflake: Hey, Elsa.
*You see, I said some really nasty things to my girlfriend, and I feel really bad about it, so I wanted to talk to my sister and my best friend about it.
*The thing is, they're all you.
*I'm sorry, Elsa. I didn't mean it. You know I didn't mean it.
*I was hoping we could meet tonight. At the Cactus Club on English Bay Beach? 7:00PM?
*I don't even know if you'll get this, but I'll wait for you. I'll wait all night.
"Excuse me, Miss," the waiter whispered, "But we're about to close soon."
Anna's head was resting lightly on her arms, crossed over on the cotton tablecloth. "What time is it?"
The waiter checked his watch. "It's almost 1:00AM. I'm sorry to say this, but your date probably stood you up. If you want, I'll bring you something to eat. On the house."
Anna handed him her credit card. "Could you do me a favour and just stay open until morning?"
He looked at her skeptically, doubt plain in his eyes. "Miss, with all due respect—"
"Don't," she sighed, resting her forehead on her arms and looking down at her lap. Don't say it.
"I don't think your date is coming," he said, ignoring her request.
And for some reason, Anna didn't think so either.
"Just charge whatever," she said, and the waiter surrendered, going off to discuss with his manager.
She really hates me.
As per her instruction, the restaurant was open all night, and Anna waiting there in the booth seat, with nothing but a candle melting into a pool of hot wax as her companion.
She waited all night, but Elsa never came.