A/N - I really am avoiding deadlines now, my bank account is hurting bc i got tickets for the Kristen Bell webinar for Oprahs book. Damn.

This series intends to be a series of Angsty one-shots (heck I'll throw in some happy ones too) for Frozen. If you're reading this, you may like Death Takes A Sister and Falling Into Darkness. They would be included in this series too. Hopefully compiling into one book is easier to navigate though :)

I listen to music as I write this to get in the headspace, so if that's of any interest to anyone to read along and listen

I Dreamed a Dream - Glee (Idina Menzel and Lea Michele)

Get It Right - Glee (Lea Michele)

Please by all means send suggestions :) Also I do actually have quite a bit of work to do, so updates will be slower x

(Also welcoming title suggestions bc I really havne't got a clue what to title a series of one-shots. Not a fan of the current title)

Ink Bleeds.

The weight in her hands had been worn down in pain, loved and yet avoided. She ran her fingers across the edges of the pages, pages she had spilled heart onto. So small, but somehow encapsulated years of memories, worries and joys. It held who she had been, the only item she had that welcomed her in all her spectrum. She hadn't read or used this journal in years. Tonight, she was being pulled toward it. Perhaps it was because she was feeling sad, and this had been her anchor when her parents died in their voyage across the dark sea.

All was still, the sun was gently setting on what had been a good day. Evenings had a habit of digging up old emotions, she would find herself recalling events and filling with sadness. The sombreness growing in the quiet that plagued the halls. It was partly why Anna created games nights, as her sister it had been so obvious, she recognised it immediately. The depression that twinkled in her eye routinely as light went down. Opening the delicate pages, it was if all colour had been sucked from the room. She didn't need reminding of what she went through, but soon enough small instances that had slipped her mind were showing themselves to her. For Elsa, it felt invasive. It was her own diary, but it was a different person. Reading her thoughts word for word, on the outside looking in. Is this really what I thought? Her heart sank as she read each sentence, slowly shifting back to all those years ago.

It was mournful, scouring through pages and comparing events to her current life. What could have been, what she wished she could tell herself. It was when the bed beside her dipped further that she realised Anna was sitting next to her. She hadn't heard Anna come in, she was so light on her feet and had years of practise of avoiding creaky floorboards. There was a vulnerable pause. She felt she had been caught doing something wrong, but Anna's face said otherwise. Instead, her smile was warm, her eyes extending an invitation. "You okay?" She asked kindly.

The lightest of breaths from Elsa and a gentle shake of her head was her answer. No. She didn't have the energy to lie. Somehow, even holding this journal was brewing and unearthing tears that were years old. Move on, Elsa. It was humiliating, had she really come back to this again?

"Gerda made some hot chocolate." Anna said quietly, watching Elsa as she sat unmoved. Her eyes fixed on the pages that resided in her lap. Anna didn't have to ask what it was, Elsa had only kept one journal, it wasn't recent. This space was so fragile. She worried any disturbance might shatter the glass that seemed to envelope Elsa. "I think I can get her to allow us to have it up here, just this once." It was a staple for difficult conversations, and had unintentionally become a tradition of theirs. Something of their own that spoke for itself. It was quality time together. It was listening. It was love. "I'll be back, Elsa." She gave a small kiss on Elsa's forehead before quickly leaving the room, Elsa seemed un-phased, she continued to search through the journal in her hands getting further and further into her memories.

Diving down the stairs, Anna didn't need to ask which hot chocolate was hers. It was overfilling with marshmallows and cream. She hadn't actually asked Gerda if she had the okay to drink them upstairs. Given her reputation of being notoriously clumsy and messy, she quickly grabbed a spoon and gulped down some of the drink. Less likely to spill now. She ever so carefully made her way back to Elsa, her senses on override as she made purposeful steps forward.

"Gerda I-" She halted in the hallway, her eyes widening. The tips of her knuckles were burning against the mugs, and so she shuffled on her feet, itching to put them down.

"If you make a mess -" Gerda started.

"Yes I'll clean it, don't worry." Anna assured, anxiously awaiting for Gerda to let her go. With a gentle nod of approval, Anna continued to Elsa. The breath she had been holding had almost resulted in a spill. Almost. Gerda smiled as she watched Anna race down the hall, they always had each other.

"Elsa?" Anna appeared back in the doorway, Elsa was still reading through her journal, seemingly in her own little world. Whenever Elsa was like this, Anna could only sit in the sadness with her. It would pass, soon. She was grateful though, it was progress from being shut out. She'd watch Elsa sit silently dwelling in her feelings and it would break her heart. It was moments like this that she could have a glimpse into life on the other side of the door. She carefully set Elsa's steaming mug of hot chocolate on the dresser and sat beside Elsa, appreciating the warmth felt in her palms. Without saying a word, Elsa gently waved her hand over the mugs to cool them. It earned a smile from Anna. "Thanks, sis." Gratefully, she took a sip of the drink, partially because she wasn't sure what to say but also to let Elsa speak, should she want to.

"Do you wanna talk about it?" Anna asked. It hadn't escaped her that Elsa was stuck on a page that she had been reading before she went downstairs.

"My whole life has been reduced to this." Sadly, and unexpectedly she handed Anna the journal. Anna held it delicately, she was sure the first ten minutes of this conversation would be coaxing Elsa to talk to her. It made it much easier on her part, and she couldn't deny that Elsa trusting her this way lifted her spirit despite the depression that enveloped the room. But it worried her also, Elsa fought just about everything. Yet here she was - literally - laying down her life in Anna's hands. Picking at her nails, Elsa's eyes stayed fixed on the floor. What was the use in explaining? She already had. The pages said it better than she ever could, it was coherent - mostly.

Taking a moment to glance at Elsa, her eyes fell back to the page in front of her. It was a handful of entries, she wasn't sure which one Elsa had been fixating on. So she started from the first entry. Her cursive handwriting neatly splashed across the left half of the book. She read aloud:

Anna came to my door today. She was really happy, and told me there was a rainbow outside. She shouted for me to look out the window, but I couldn't see it. I just saw rain. I wish I could have seen it. I wish I could see a lot of things. One day, I will.

From the date listed, Anna concluded that Elsa was no older than 12 at the time she wrote this. Elsa stayed silent, and so Anna continued to the next entry. This was messier. Ink smudged across the page, blotches clearly created from tears.

I got new gloves today. I hate it. He keeps telling me to calm down but I hurt the people around me and I can't see anyone or do anything. I want to be normal. I want to ride bikes around the halls with Anna and build snowmen. She keeps coming to my door and I can't say no because she will be sad. He got me new bedding so I have a "new" room. It's still the same four walls. Then it gets worse and I have to stay.

How do you decipher a child's thoughts? It must have been hard to even write or work out these feelings. Elsa still had trouble with it to this day. Reading into this, Anna understood. This little girl was begging for normality, for a safe and happy childhood. The previous entry had an ounce of optimism at least, but this. this was a broken child. Things had escalated so quickly. This was the age that Elsa began to write less about what she wished for the future and instead wrote mechanically about her powers and how to control them. It was when her dreams died, instead she focused on what she couldn't do, and how to make the best of a lifetime in solitude.

"You're not in there, anymore Elsa. You made it out. We can do all of these things now." Anna said tentatively, her hand resting on the pages that Elsa had poured her life into. Elsa stayed quiet, though her eyes filled with heartache. "May I?" Anna gestured back to the journal, lifting the page gently. With approval from Elsa, Anna continued reading. The dates between each entry distancing as she grew older, rapidly changing emotions through sporadic entries.

You'll be fine Elsa.

It was so short, but Anna had quickly learned that these pages ranged in length. One line was sometimes was all that was needed, on other occasions four pages couldn't say enough. This entry seemed hopeful. She looked over to Elsa for context, furrowing her brows.

"It was the last thing he said, before.." She trailed off. Realisation flushed across Anna's face, her eyes flickered back to the writing, looking at it in new light. Four words said so much, and said so little. Things hadn't been fine, not at all.

"Two weeks." Anna commented, "We were meant to see them again." She choked, dwelling in the grief that had taken space on the bed. It was heavy. The period between their deaths and Elsa's coronation had been the most difficult. They had grieved alone. Elsa's hopes of ever being free sunk as quickly as their ship.

"I wish they hadn't left" Elsa mumbled. They were her guidance, everything she did was on their terms with few exceptions. She was thrown in to a state of not knowing, the future unclear. She could leave. She wanted to run to Anna, there should have been nothing stopping her. But then the ice cascaded her bedroom, erupting from her body as she sat lifelessly against the door. The energy drained from her. Grief was relentless. This was a new pain. One that she couldn't endure, one that Anna couldn't face. Any doubts she had of being dangerous were gone. She had proved it to herself.

It paralyzed her. That in helping Anna she had to abandon her. It killed her to hear Anna on the other side of the door after their deaths, as much as it broke her heart to realise come evening that Anna wouldn't show, that the day had been silent. She wanted to know what Anna was up to, but she couldn't ask. It was so conflicting, so difficult to navigate. Her best intentions seemed to only make a mess of things. She had made note of the time when she knew their parents would be buried. She owed it to Anna to have a funeral that went smoothly. Attending, would have only disrupted her grief. What Anna lost in her absence was gained in the bigger picture. She wanted to fix it, so so badly. It was why she sat by the door, making sure to listen to every word Anna said. Waiting for every visit, taking care of every gift. It was the closest she could manage. It was at the very least, sustainable. They had built expectations of each other. The fear of opening that door and doing something wrong - or hurting her. Everything she touched would come tumbling down, and it was only aggravated as Elsa's powers grew stronger. The safe distance was best for both of them. Life is unfair, and her good was never quite good enough - she had come to accept that.

Elsa was just 21 years old when she learnt that the the bereaved had composed the oceans of tears. The pain could be so still, it would sit in the pit of her stomach. Other times, it brought her to her knees, and she would be washed away in the anger that flooded her. It drowned her.

Sympathetically, Anna laid her hand on Elsa's knee. There weren't any words.

Her eyes scanned over the pages. Elsa's writing would deviate between fantasies of what she would be doing if she was on the other side of the door, if she didn't have powers. Every entry of which began Anna came to my door today... or Anna said... her dreams began with her sister. After their parents death, it became a crutch for Elsa to write like this. Nobody came into her room anymore, and time stood still. Anything to escape the reality she had found herself in.

She didn't come to my door today. I understand. I would have stopped trying too. I miss her.

Regret, Anna had so much of it. She wished she had opened the door. She wished she had a closer look under the door, or that she had asked their parents more questions. But it became normal, she very rarely saw Elsa leave her room. The few times she did, all they could do was stare. Both sisters waiting for someone to make the first move. To acknowledge each other then move on. Some days, Elsa's door was all she could focus on. The elephant in the room that tormented her thoughts. Other days, it was just as was - part of the furniture. Sometimes, it was so quiet she could pretend nobody was there. It was easier that way -to believe Elsa hadn't shut her out.

"I'm sorry I didn't visit everyday, Elsa." She said quietly. "I thought you were hiding from me - that maybe you didn't want me around."

"I had Sir Jorgenbjorgen, you were still with me." Elsa assured, "I just needed to hear your voice, sometimes." They exchanged a small smile. "You were the brightest part of my days."

Dreams die, and reality takes lead. Sometimes, there's no energy to imagine an alternate world. Sometimes waking up in the morning sucks all the energy out of you. There are days when you can't ignore what's lying right in front of you. In Elsa's case, what lay behind her. The door she never opened. A world she had yet to see. It's a question that consumes you. What If? Years combing through the past weighing up what your life could be had you of made a difference choice. For Elsa, she was certain. It wasn't a question of If?. It was a question of Why? What lay on the other side of the door had to be better than the hell she lived in. So why had she been dealt this hand in life? Why was the universe so set on keeping her locked away? Why hadn't they given her a choice? She couldn't leave, she was dangerous. She hadn't died the day Anna got hurt, but she had sacrificed her life for Anna to have as close to a safe and normal childhood. One that she was envious of. One she could only dream of.

You've taken the best things from me. Anna's eyes flickered over the writing, looking back to Elsa who was clearly holding back tears. "Who did you mean, Elsa?" She tilted the book, her finger landing on the entry.

"Mum and dad." She replied glumly. Rolling her eyes, "These powers." lifting her hands lazily waving them a little. Taking a sharp breath and hunching her shoulders. "Sometimes - very rarely - you." Guilt flooded her. Biting her lip, Elsa continued, "I don't think that now, I'm sorry."

Anna shook her head assertively. "No... Elsa, don't" A tear spilled down her cheek as she smiled warmly. "You don't need to apologise." It was the event between them that landed Elsa in that bedroom. All that time alone, of course Elsa would find resentment for her at some point. Keeping her a distance had always been Elsa's go-to to protect her heart. She had already known, when Elsa pushed her away at the North Mountain.

Conceal, Don't Feel. Don't Let It Show - Getting Upset Only Makes It Worse.

But it tortured her. She had tried every which way to lead a normal life - as much as you can try with limited resources. The very real possibility of never leaving that room again had plagued her. So she continued her fathers work, to find a way to control her powers. The gloves, as helpful as they were merely suppressed them. Anna scanned through the checklist Elsa had created for herself.

And colour drains from Anna's face.

"Elsa, you never told me.." Her eyes keep going back and forth. She's reading the same line over and over again, her fingers following each word. No. It's there. All the while she is thinking intently to the past. How hadn't she noticed?

"I didn't want you to know." Elsa replied, it sounded harsher than she had meant. For once, Anna is speechless. The gravity of what she had done is dawning on Elsa. She didn't think it had mattered at the time. It seemed as unimportant as she had felt. "It helped."

"You don't still-" She hesitated.

"No, not anymore." Elsa answered quickly. There's a pause, and Elsa recognises she should explain. "My powers are tied to my emotions... I couldn't afford to hurt anyone.-" Anna's exasperated sigh cuts her off, she's upset. That much is clear. Her hand has left Elsa's and is now her head is resting in her palms. "I don't do it now, Anna."

"No.. I know, Elsa. I know..." It is difficult to make out as she is mostly mumbling into her palms, her voice is filled with tears.

"I'm sorry." She hadn't meant for this to happen. They were just supposed to talk.

"Elsa.." Anna turns to Elsa, glaring into her eyes. "Stop apologising, please.. I just - I could have helped.". It felt like she had been fighting a losing battle. She spent so much time carefully choosing her words before enthusiastically knocking on Elsa's door. She had tried gifts when she couldn't reach her with words. She had tried giving her space when Elsa refused to reply. How many times would she have to try before Elsa would answer? Her approach changed from getting Elsa out, to simply letting her know she was thinking of her. She wouldn't be the one to get Elsa out, no matter how much she wanted it to be. Insanity is after all; doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results. Looking back, she hated that she ever skipped past that door without much thought. She hated that she ever accepted it as normal. After the Thaw, Anna spent hours each night wondering what their childhood would have looked like if her parents had explained. She was denied that chance of trying to help with understanding. Instead she felt ignored, wondering what she did wrong. Nevertheless, Anna led with love. She continued to try.

"You did enough Anna." Elsa assured. "You got me through a lot of days I thought I wouldn't see the end of." She said seriously, pulling Anna's hands back into her own.

The sisters fell silent, imagining what life could have been. So many things should have been different. Hope died, but love lasted. As each others anchor, both sisters never let go of the dream that one day they would be together. As a testament to those dreams, scars ran as deep as the love did. A mark of what was lost, and what was loved.

"It's funny, this book is so thin despite all we went through." She almost laughed. Her days consisted of very little. She could only write about the pain that came with being forced into isolation so many times before it got repetitive. "Sir JorgenBjergen was a very good listener." Elsa smiled, trying to help Anna see things weren't so bad.

"You can start a new journal, you have so much to write about now." Anna suggested, wiping the tears from her eyes. "You need to be able to read back on all the good things too, Elsa." She was already planning her trip to the market for a new journal, a blue one.

"I sometimes forget who this person was." Elsa gave a small smile, "All the days merge into one when it looks the same, and I don't want to forget." She took a breath, looking into Anna's tearful eyes. "Reading these, and feeling sad about it. I-.. She trailed off, trying to find the words. Anna, as ever, waited patiently beside her. "Not feeling sorry for myself, so much. But knowing that this wasn't okay." She held the journal in her hands, straightening in her seat. "I just needed to see how far I've come, and I guess to grieve a little."

Anna listened intently, nodding as Elsa spoke. "She didn't deserve this, you didn't deserve this." Her finger tapped on the journal, staring deeply into Elsa's eyes intently. "Your dreams are coming true, Elsa. There are so many beginnings ahead of you."

A/N - First chapter of angsty one-shots done. Please please send prompts!