Heavy stuff ahead. This occurs before Frozen 2.


Stone

In an open field, the sisters of Arendelle hold hands. They stand between two massive monoliths afloat in a sea of green grass. Traditionally, they would be in mourning clothes, but Anna all but refused; they were alone, they didn't need to prove anything to anyone. Each sister has a bundle of indigo crocuses in their hands. They break apart briefly to lay the flowers at the markers representing King Agnarr and Queen Iduna.

Their bodies were never found. Anna always says she'd prefer some finality, something certain, while Elsa could go the rest of her life without seeing their water-bloated corpses. At the very least, they're together now to mourn, rather than being forced to navigate their complicated grief alone.

Anna is dressed for a chilly autumn morning, Elsa in her ice bodice. The elder sister gives a small shiver. Anna threads her hand into one of her sister's. The queen squeezes back. Neither has any plans for a speech or grand statement. They simply decided that today was the day they'd face this together.

"Anna, I don't—I don't know what to say," Elsa looks to her younger sister, though she isn't sure why. Advice? Comfort? Simply to not feel alone?

"You don't have to say anything, Elsa," Anna's usually sunny voice is marred by a rainstorm. Still, she carries the umbrella to shield them both. The princess lays her head on Elsa's shoulder. "Unless you want to. I've already said all I need to say."

The younger isn't trying to be bitter, but that's all Elsa can hear; bitterness and sadness. These are emotions she is disgustingly familiar with. They inspire a round of chills in the queen. Anna squeezes tighter. At this point, she would normally be telling Elsa that everything was okay, bestow a sisterly kiss to her cheek and a warm hug.

But she can't. She wants to, with every fiber of being being. Anna can't stand to watch Elsa lose her tenuous composure and do nothing. But she just can't. It's not her battle, not yet.

"Mama, Papa."

Elsa's voice sounds rough, like it hasn't been used in days. She hasn't called them by those names since she was eight.

"I can't do this," her breath comes out rattled, she shakes her head.

Before Elsa can entertain the idea of walking away, Anna tightens her grip.

"Yes, you can. You're already here. You can finally get closure."

"W–what if I don't want closure?"

Worried, Anna leaves her sister's side and stands before her. A few stray snowflakes fall from the sky and land soundlessly on the grass. Water builds up behind the queen's eyes.

"What do you want?"

The princess' endless capacity for patience will forever be a blessing to Elsa. Anna takes Elsa's forearms in her hands. She already knows the answer before her sister even opens her mouth. It'll be the answer Anna would have given, if in her sister's place.

"I want them back, Anna," Elsa hates the soft whine in her voice. "I want them to see this, see us."

She clenches her jaw, unsuccessfully biting back a sob.

"I want them to know that keeping us apart was the worst thing they could have done."

Anna nods with shining eyes.

"I want to hold them one last time, tell them-"

The first tear falls with a wet sniffle. It takes all of Anna's willpower not to reach out and wipe it away.

"Tell them-"

More slip down Elsa's cheeks. Her mouth is open, heaving soft sobs. She curls into herself, her bleeding heart pounding against her chest.

"I love them, s–so much, and I–I'm...I'm sorry."

Despair strikes her knees, and Elsa falls to the grass. Anna silently follows.

"They mess—messed up, but so d–did I," she weeps at the stones. Snow falls steadily now, but the air isn't so cold anymore. "B–but at least they tr–tried."

Elsa is not so far in sorrow that she doesn't feel warm arms around her neck, and a warm hand guiding her head to a warm shoulder. Her own ice-cold hands find Anna's back, and she holds on tight. The princess doesn't try to stop Elsa's tears or her sobs. She doesn't tell her not to cry. She doesn't say it's okay.

She doesn't have to. Anna runs her fingers through her sister's hair. She holds the back of Elsa's head. She cries. Anna thought she was done shedding tears for them. Snow doesn't stick anywhere near the sisters' vicinity, as though a pocket of warmth surrounds them.

Anna thinks to a place, where the north wind meets the sea. It's a place she's never seen, she's never been, but it was sung to the sisters since they were small. A river with all the answers. Was it true? Could there really be a place where all memories are stored?

Neither grave will speak.

A few minutes pass, and the snow lets up. Whatever managed to stick to the ground has already melted. The clouds in the sky part ever so slightly. Shy sunbeams poke through the holes, landing on the waters of the fjord in a dazzling display. Anna wipes her eyes, then gives her sister a gentle shake.

"Elsa, look."

The queen lifts her head. She follows where Anna's pointing. The lights dance across the fjord. The only thing missing from the scene is music. Elsa supposes that the wind whistling through the trees and rustling the grass beneath them could count.

"It's beautiful," the queen whispers, drying her face with her sleeve. There's a thousand and one things she wants to say. She can only find two words.

The sisters rise together. Anna takes Elsa's face in both hands, then presses their foreheads together. There's a thousand and one things Anna could say, but given their fragile calm, she refrains. When they lock eyes, they smile in unison.

As they walk away with Elsa's arm wrapped around Anna's waist, the bundles of crocuses are blown from the feet of the stones out to sea.