A/N: Hi all, I wrote this a while back and forgot to upload. TBH, not sure it makes much sense. I waffled between an actual confrontation and a more introspective reflection, and this is what came out.

Hope it's understandable.

Featuring much feelings and an adorably protective Elsa.

To Be A Big Sister

Set roughly eight months after the Great Thaw

After the Great Thaw, Elsa had to relearn what it was like to be a big sister.

She had forgotten the feelings that came with such an obligation over the years – or perhaps she'd taken the notions of protectiveness and sacrifice to heart (Too well, Anna might add with a smirk) - but it was slowly coming back to her now.

It had required tremendous effort on her part, and a willingness to shun the mantra that kept her from her sisterly duties, but she was now growing increasingly familiar with the surge of motherly affection that bloomed like a sunflower in her chest whenever she laid eyes on her adorable little sister,

Or with that tickle of child-like mischief that occasionally crossed her mind and resulted in giggly outbursts and running down hallways to escape the amusing wrath of a flustered princess…

Or even that irrational but thankfully brief surge of irritation that rarely emerged whenever said younger sibling engaged in any particularly annoying behaviors befitting her role.

Elsa had become reacquainted with each and every one of these feelings after the Great Thaw, and their presence only reminded her of just how nice it was to feel something… well, something other than fear, shame, self-loathing etc.

It was nice to be reminded of what it felt like to be needed…to know that her presence actually served to brighten her baby sister's day. That Anna, bubbly princess of the summer that she was, needed her cold Snow Queen sibling to love and hug and comfort her in any and every way she was capable of doing.

It had taken her some time to re-acquaint herself with the business, but after months of doing so, Elsa could say she understood what it felt like to be a big sister.

Or so she thought.

It was several months after the Great Thaw when the epiphany struck her.

Anna had just reluctantly left their weekly council meeting and only on Elsa's insistence when the queen found her sister nodding off during their discussion on income taxes.

The princess had been shadowing her older sister for months now, and though Elsa knew just how much Anna wanted to be present for the entire meeting, it had been obvious to the young queen that her sister would not make it through the end.

She reconvened the meeting after a quick break, bringing the members up to speed on Anna's departure.

"Apologies gentlemen. My sister had some work to tend to, so we will continue without her."

There were nods of understanding around the table.

Satisfied, Elsa proceeded to move on with the proposals at hand. "I thought we might like to begin with the changes to the budget."

In the expected ensuing din of vigorous debate inevitable followed such a heated topic, Elsa almost didn't hear the wayward comment grumbled by one of her least favorite council members.

"Quite a record for the spare, staying as long as she did. Perhaps next time, she'll remember to bring her brain with her as well."

If Baron Fritjof had had any semblance of self-preservation, he'd have left the topic well enough alone. But unfortunately for him, the insult unwittingly made its way to her attuned ears, ringing in her brain like some sort of pathetic jingle.

The room instantly became much colder.

"What did you say, Baron?"

The council room fell deadly silent. Whether the others had caught the comment or not, Elsa didn't know, but they'd had enough experience to understand the unnervingly dangerous calm of her tone.

For his part, the man played the whole thing off surprisingly nonchalantly. "I'm not sure what you're referring to, Your Majesty."

But the smug response only sent a surge of ferocious rage swept through Elsa. She clenched her fists to keep a tingling of icy magic at bay.

"I'm sure you do, Baron." Cerulean irises narrowed, accompanied by a dangerous snarl from the depths of her soul as she wished to make the man suffer for his mistake. "Or did I just imagine you referring to my sister – and the crown princess of this kingdom – as a brainless spare?"

The man, surprisingly, held his ground. Perhaps the fool thought he could pass the whole thing off as a hallucination on her end, a trick of the ear.

But she would give him no such mercy as to pretend the insult had never been uttered.

No, there was no entity on the planet to spare him from her frigid fury.

Harsh, biting words fit to kill leapt to her tongue, the product of an indescribably powerful onslaught of emotions she couldn't quite place.

But the emotions, whatever they were, came from years of observing Anna, of understanding her sister's insecurities and her fears of never being good enough. They came from knowing in the depths of her heart that Anna was smart and dedicated and would be a much better ruler than the baron could ever hope to be no matter how many lifetimes he had.

As Elsa glowered at the baron, ready to punish him for his sin, she suddenly realized that this feeling…this tsunamic swell of passionate overprotectiveness that threatened to drown her on dry land…

It came from being a big sister.

One who loved her darling Anna to the ends of the earth and back, because she was incredibly lovable and smart and kind and compassionate and witty and so much more that Elsa could get lost in appreciating her sister's abilities for days to come. Because the blindingly chipper smile that was often found on Anna's face was one that could brighten the whole universe and how dare this pathetic, cowardly, sniveling, black-hearted rat attempt to wipe that smile off her face with his deceitful, harmful words?

How dare he insinuate that Anna – unbelievably clever, quick-witted, kind-hearted angel that she was – was somehow not worthy of her position and its accompanying obligation of respect in her own damn kingdom?

How dare he mock her dear sister's intellect and intelligence behind her back, and how dare he expect to get away with it with perhaps nothing more than a slap on the wrist?

Such was the unique flavor of passionate overprotectiveness that coursed through Elsa…

And boy did she relish the feeling.

Because it was perhaps the one feeling she hadn't encountered since their reunion, the one feeling she hadn't needed to deal with as much, because Anna had evolved past the need for overprotectiveness on her part. She was a woman now, a capable one. Whether she liked it or not – and truthfully, the jury was still out on that one – Elsa knew that Anna could handle herself.

But here, in her sister's absence, having been witness to such an unbelievably rude remark that Anna could not defend herself from, Elsa could feel that overprotective side of her kick in.

She allowed it to flow like liquid courage through her veins, heightening all of her senses and sharpening her vision so that her icy glare and deadly barbs did not miss their mark.

It was akin to an addicting drug, this feeling of unconditional love and desire to protect her Anna from whatever the world had in store, and Elsa let it sustain her as long as she needed it, reveling in her still burgeoning ability to express her every emotion freely.

Was this what she had missed out on all those years ago? This ability to express such uncontrollable impulse of love and affection for Anna and allow it to morph into volcanic anger towards anyone that dare hurt her?

Was this what it truly meant to be an older sister?

As Elsa watched the situation unfold before her, she couldn't help but think otherwise. Because it felt to the young queen as though her steadily beating heart existed outside her being, where it ran and frolicked and existed and loved everything and everyone it came across. This heart of hers, it was vulnerable and emotional and easy to injure with a simple barb spoken under one's stinky breath.

And if Elsa didn't take care to hold it close and never let it go, it would leave her…and she would be tragically lost without it. She almost had been, once.

For Elsa, keeper of this fragile heart, the realization unlocked something deep within her, because even as the adrenaline rush faded away and the volcanic anger towards Baron Fritjof dissipated into thin air, Elsa felt something nudging her conscience.

Perhaps it was a strange aftereffect of her emotional realization. Perhaps it was a delayed response to Anna's absence borne from years of staying away.

Whatever it was, it made her want to find Anna and wrap her in an impossibly tight embrace and never ever let go. It made her want to find all the pain and sorrow and suffering her sister would ever face and throw it all into the fjord, never to be seen again.

And so Elsa went looking for the one person that had made her feel this way, so that she could hold her in her arms and tell her just how blessed she was to be an older sister.

To be her older sister.

Because now that she had finally remembered what it was like, she never wanted that feeling to go away again.