Butterfly

Anna can't explain it, but some days, she just feels terrible. Her body feels fine, nothing of particular import has happened recently to inspire her low feelings, but she just can't shake the gloom. It certainly doesn't help matters that today is the fourth anniversary of her parents' deaths at sea. She's long since shed her tears on the matter, but she still feels that empty ache where the love of Mama and Papa used to be.

The strangest part is, Elsa seems to know when she's not herself. She doesn't even have to be in the same room to pick it up, either. It comes as little surprise when Anna feels a familiar hand on her shoulder as she gazes on a familiar portrait.

"Is it that day already?" Elsa's voice sounds older than she is. She pulls her younger sister into her shoulder. "I knew something was off."

"They say it gets easier," Anna replies in a faraway voice, snuggling into Elsa's neck. "But no matter how much time passes, I still miss them."

"Me too."

Had this been a few years ago, and they hadn't been separated, the sisters would be bawling their eyes out in each others' arms, inconsolable for a good portion of the day. The pain remains, but it's duller, and it gets duller with each passing year.

"Are you okay, Elsa?"

"Yeah," the elder sister replies just a little too quickly. "You know, just...yeah."

A warm hand slips into Elsa's cool one. The queen will never tire of the sensation and the sincerity associated with the gesture.

"They'd be proud of you, you know," Anna voice seems far away, even if she's right beside her sister.

The queen smiles one of her pensive, but genuine smiles; she's touched by the sentiment, even if she doesn't necessarily agree.

"Thank you, Anna."

The princess tries her hardest to show her own proud smile, but she just can't bring herself to do so. She lets out a heavy sigh, prompting a worried glance and a soft squeeze to her shoulder.

"It's...I'm fine, Elsa."

"Anna," there's a gentle reprimand in the utterance of her name. "You can tell me anything. You know that, right?"

The princess does know. She's been reminded more times than she can count, and sometimes, she's replies with a bland 'yeah, I know' without expanding further. Anna doesn't want to talk about it, but on a day already marked with sorrow, what was a little more?

"Can we go out in the garden?"

"Of course," Elsa nods; so many reminders of their parents linger inside the castle walls, it's little wonder Anna wants to escape for a while.

The sisters exit the castle and walk through the meticulously tended garden. Two monarch butterflies capture Anna's attention. One flutters around Anna's head, then lands on her nose. The sensation of tiny feet gives her the giggles.

"Elsa, look!" the butterfly is slowly flexing its wings, creating the appearance of a tiny mask.

The queen laughs along; she loves to hear that certain laugh Anna has, the one where she sheds all worry and focuses her positive energy on her subject of amusement. It doesn't hurt that butterflies are one of the only insects that Elsa is actually comfortable with.

The second butterfly flits into the scene, landing on Elsa's nose. She stiffens for a moment as her field of vision is blocked by a set of brilliant orange wings.

"Aww, you got one, too!"

Elsa can't help a few giggles as the feather-light insect pads up to the top of her head.

"Where are you going, little guy?" she doesn't expect an answer, but she'd be remiss not to engage.

Anna's butterfly takes off from her nose, and the one that wandered onto Elsa joins it. The bugs share an energetic dance, somersaulting in each others' paths. Anna snakes her arms around one of Elsa's, eager to share this magical moment with her sister. Soon enough, the butterflies float just out of sight. The sisters look into each others' eyes, unable to describe the experience verbally. It's not something that could be described, it had to be felt.

For a few minutes, they can forget the somber nature of today's date. It seems those few minutes are now up, if Anna's dull eyes and slumped shoulders are any indication. She breaks away and sighs.

"I thought for sure that would cheer you up," the queen's mood falls as Anna's does.

"It did, but...Elsa?"

"What is it, sweetheart?"

"Do you ever get those days where nothing's gone wrong, but everything just feels wrong?"

To hear the optimistic princess recite such a depressing rhetoric rattles Elsa's composure. What's worse is that Elsa knows exactly what she means.

"Yes, I do. This is one of those days, isn't it?"

The princess curls her arms around her midsection, a gesture she picked up from Elsa. An ache in her heart guides Elsa's hands to gently pry Anna's arms from her body. She takes the opportunity to swoop in with a warm hug and a feathery kiss to Anna's hair.

"Should it still hurt?" Anna's wounded voice drives a knife further through Elsa's heart.

The queen breaks away. She gently lifts Anna's chin with one hand.

"It hurts for as long as it has to," she declares. "You can't rush grief."

Anna shuts her eyes with a soft nod. The queen's attention is captured by two pairs of fluttering orange wings. Whether they are the same butterflies is impossible to say. Each bug takes a moment to land on both Anna's and Elsa's nose, their antennae tickling the skin like a miniature kiss.

Once the butterflies depart for the heavens, the sisters look at each other with inexplicably tearful smiles.

"It's like they knew," Anna stares skyward, eyes wide with wonder.

Elsa finds herself speechless, hoping that her arm around Anna's shoulders and a soft squeeze would suffice as an answer. As they commit the moment to memory, they are unaware of a flock of Monarchs floating overhead on whisper-quiet wings.