The quiet echo of Anna's sniffles reverberated around the otherwise ominously silent glacial chamber. Never before had Anna heard such pure unadulterated silence in her life, and it unnerved her. A strange thought to have in this moment, but then when didn't her brain stir up random unrelated thoughts in order to mask the true emotional pain she knew she wasn't strong enough to handle.

All.

The.

Time.

It'd been her coping mechanism for as long as she could remember, only it seemed wildly inappropriate in this moment when she for once, didn't want to block out these painful memories.

She thought she was stronger than this.

She thought she was ready for this.

She clearly wasn't.

Her Royal Majesty Queen Anna of Arendelle—what a joke.

Of course she knew what to expect here, Elsa had told her, and yet—how could anyone be ready for something like this? Her thoughts still weren't making any sense as she clung to Elsa and sobbed, her back purposefully turned away from their mothers face, unable to cope with looking at it. She hadn't lasted but a moment staring into the icy reflection of her dead mother's eyes before she had to rip her eyes away or risk being ripped apart herself.

She thought she was more mature than this.

Mature like Elsa had probably been. Here. Alone. How had Elsa faced this by herself? Thank god Elsa was there supporting the weight of her now, or else she knew she would be a mess of a puddle on the floor. Her face would probably freeze right to it with how wet it was with tears, and she almost laughed at that thought—almost.

More random inappropriate thoughts.

Stop.

She had to get a grip, get control over this like an adult so she could see everything Ahtohallan wanted to show her—she had to. She was not leaving here until she did.

'Anna, shhh. It's ok, I cried the first time too.' Elsa said gently as she swayed and rubbed her back.

Fine, so Elsa had cried—cried in Elsa's way, which meant crying but still functioning. No. She was not that, she tried but she could never be. Emotions were the bane of her existence, always giving away every thought she had, overwhelming her so tremendously that she couldn't even function at five percent right now so that she could just enjoy these damn memories. More sobbing. She had to shut this off.

Stop it Anna!

She hadn't even behaved like this at her parent's funeral so, what was this?

'Anna, what did you say to me, about how you pulled yourself together when you were lost in that cave and thought I had died?'

'I don't remember.' She choke-mumbled into Elsa's hair.

'Well I do, I hum it like a song nearly every day—especially when I'm struggling. You said:

I won't look too far ahead,

It's too much for me to take,

But break it down to this next breath, this next step,

This next choice is one that I can make.

You can do that now. Take a breath, we will do this together.'

That was true, she had said that, had done that even after she thought Elsa had died. But that was different. She was so beyond caring about her own life in that cave, that pulling herself up and out once she realized that fact had been easy—she did it for Elsa. One last time. She did it to finish the job Elsa had started, and then, she'd wanted those giants to kill her too. That had been her motivation, her plan, morbid as it was. Finish the job and die. Finally, once and for all, she was going to defy the spitefully sardonic universe, hellbent on keeping them apart—laugh in its cruel face just once—one final hoorah—and go quietly to her death however the giants deemed fit. To follow Elsa one last time into the great unknown, finally, permanently together. Of course she'd never admit to that, especially to Kristoff, and she hadn't done it thankfully—and Elsa was right. She had pulled herself together before and she could do it now. Especially since Elsa was right here with her, right now, and not dead. She could do this—she felt her chest relax and she gained a small modicum of control over her faculties. She nodded into Elsa's hair, her breathing slowing.

She could do this.

'Good.' Elsa said quietly.

It was all that she could do to detach herself from Elsa's shoulder, slowly and reluctantly she turned once again to face the tender eyes of their mother. Her shoulders back, resolute in her stance, braver than she actually felt—she took in her mother again. So much love was there, so much kindness and familiarity and she had missed it so—sadness, happiness and everything in-between—yet, what was this other feeling she couldn't tamp down? A feeling she always knew was there but refused to even let but a spark of it escape the deepest depths of her soul. Why must it come now? It was growing stronger, and stronger, persistently burning right in the middle of her chest as she stared at her mother—and she did not like it.

It was ugly.

It was—anger.

And this she was not ready for.

'Elsa, I don't want to do this anymore.' She said and started charging for the door.

'Woah, wait Anna.' Elsa said with a tone of surprise and grabbed her arm, holding her there.

'Elsa let me go, I can't do this.' She said, her tone rising, her voice nearing on the edge of breaking again, wiggling her arm trying to pull it away from her sister.

'Anna, what? Talk to me.' Elsa spun her, grabbing her shoulders and forcing her to look directly at her face. 'Talk to me.'

'I can't. Do. This.' She hissed quietly, slowly as more accursed tears streamed down her cheeks. Please don't push this Elsa. She looked down to avert her eyes from Elsa's penetrating gaze, the anger was bubbling.

'What can't you do?' Elsa stooped, searching her downcast eyes for an answer she would not find there.

'This! All of it, I just don't want to do it anymore!' She yelled and yanked herself from Elsa's grasp, suddenly very annoyed—flinging her arms up and around her, gesturing to all the stupid memories hanging in the air. It was better to leave them forgotten and buried rather than to go through this angry pain—and she just wanted to leave.

Elsa stood upright, blinking and staring at her for a long moment—she couldn't read Elsa's expression. 'I was mad at them too you know.' Elsa said finally, quietly, yet still it cut through the deafening silence like a knife. 'For a long time. Part of me still is.'

The blasted tears would just not stop and more spilled down her face at Elsa's words—giving her away. She did not want to be mad at her parents. Did not want Elsa to know how mad she was at their parents. She wanted to look lovingly at her mothers face, maybe cry a bit with Elsa and then move on to other happier memories. She did not want to feel this rage that was building inside of her—that is not how she wanted to remember them.

Anna was shaking her head, eyes closed. 'I can't do it.' She whispered, eerily calm, which surprised even her—then turned to get out of this wickedly silent chamber.

Elsa grabbed her once again, spinning her around, gripping her shoulders and stooping to look directly into her eyes. 'What are you angry about Anna.' She said with a low, deeply sincere voice, it wasn't a question, it was a command—a non-negotiable command that she'd only heard Elsa use at diplomatic meetings. Elsa's icy blue eyes pierced her own then softened to sadness—compelling the truth out of her.

More tears. She felt her lower lip quiver, her breathing increased and the burning anger in her chest had built to a point where it felt like it might just explode. For the first time, she truly realized what it must feel like to be Elsa—an unwanted power building in ones chest, it can't stay there but you can't let it out either. So crushing yet there was no escape for it. Madness.

'I'm mad at them for everything!' Her voice rang out finally, echoing the ugly words all around the chamber, mocking her. There it was, and she couldn't take it back now as the room said it to back to her fifty times.

'Tell her then,' Elsa said firmly. 'Or tell me.' She released Anna's shoulders. Anna's bottom lip was going again, so she bit it down.

'No one ever listened to me.' She hissed through gritted teeth, quietly, exasperatedly—still embarrassed by her previous outburst and desperately trying to reign this anger in. Elsa simply nodded with sad understanding eyes. Eyes that would never have been this sad if their parents hadn't forced them apart all those years.

'No one ever asked me if it was ok to just rip you away. One day it was just done—accept it Anna—and oh, also take her memories so she really has no choice in any of this.' She flung her arms above herself and dropped them dramatically. Her throat felt like it was closing up but some of the pressure had released from her chest.

'I begged them, pleaded with them to tell me what was going on—to let me see you—that I do remember. For years. And I got nothing. No answers, no apologies, just cryptic words: Elsa is out of your life Anna, it's for the best, you'll understand when you're older, learn to accept it and smile through it all Anna. Well I never learned to accept it. And you know what? I'm glad I didn't. Because I was right all along! But they never listened to me! No one ever listened to me! And I'm glad I didn't listen to them, because they were wrong! Every. Step. Of. The. Way! If I had listened to their terrible advice, I would have never seen you again!' She shouted with a final sweep of her hand, as if the gesture could somehow sweep the sanity right back into her parent's heads. Her ugly words still hung in the echo chamber—and she didn't care this time.

'And then they died!' She shouted at Elsa and felt bad because it wasn't Elsa she was mad at—Elsa, the other unfortunate victim of her parent's grossly disastrous ineptitude. This rage in her was so unfamiliar it scared her a bit, and she had no idea how to control it or shut it off now that it had started.

'AND THEN YOU DIED!' She turned and screamed blindly up at her mother's still smiling face. 'And you left everything on us! Left us alone—left me alone! Left Elsa to deal with her powers and rule your kingdom ALONE.' She shoved an accusatory finger up at her mothers face—tears blurring her vision. 'We didn't even know you were Northuldra mother—how do you just keep massive secrets like that from your own daughters? We had to figure all of that out ourselves—figure out how to rule your kingdom for you, how to fix your forest for you. ALL. ON. OUR. OWN! AND IT ALMOST KILLED US BOTH!' She was heaving with breath but she couldn't stop the spew of rage spouting from her mouth, like a volcano, it apparently had to flow until it was all out.

'AND I DON'T WANT TO RULE YOUR KINGDOM FOR YOU! I JUST WANT TO BE WITH MY SISTER!' She heaved one last time and then collapsed to her knees, finally done, and immediately regretting those hateful words as they mocked her from every corner of the chamber. 'You should still be here to do it…' She whispered in defeat, giving into the tears and nearly choking with lack of breath.

And then: Elsa was there on her knees, holding her, hugging her and she didn't know what to do. What must Elsa think of her now, now that it was all out there? 'I'm sorry.' She whispered through hitched breaths as Elsa held her. 'Sorry...'

'Anna it's ok, don't cry.' Elsa soothed. 'I was wondering when this was going to happen.' She added as she stroked Anna's hair. That was not the response she'd been expecting. 'It's ok to feel this way, I understand it, believe me.' She clutched Elsa's shoulders from her position on her knees, screwing up her face and then giving in and and crying into her shoulder again. Of course Elsa understood this, and in that moment Anna thanked the stars that she had a sister who did—it somehow made this weight less burdensome to carry. They stayed there on the cold icy floor for a long moment, holding each other, until:

'Iduna get down from there!'

A voice echoed around the chamber. Anna broke away from Elsa on instinct, searching for where the strange voice had come from, calling their mother's name. Her eyes turned up to where her mother had just been, and found—still their mother, only as she was as a young girl. She was standing at the top of a dangerously high precipice overlooking a body of water and giggling.

'Watch this!' Iduna shouted and leapt fearlessly off the precipice towards the water. 'Catch me!' She squealed midair. Just then Nokk shot from the water, catching her on her back, delivering her safely down into the water.

'Iduna, don't take advantage of the spirits like that!' The same angry voice shouted.

'I'm not, we're just playing, I love them!' She shouted in return.

The scene faded out and another unfolded before their eyes, their mother again—perhaps a bit older now, smearing paint all over a rock wall with her hands—creating a beautiful mural of a water horse at sea.

'Thank you.' She said to no one in particular, paint all over her hands and face as a mysterious gust of wind lifted her up so she could paint a higher portion of the cliff.

Anna spun to the left as yet another scene unfolded there. Her mother as a child again sliding on ice and laughing. 'Winter is my favorite!' She cried.

Then she was running through the forest, sliding to her knees in front of a river and crying.

'No one will listen to me!' She cried into the river. 'I tried to tell them the dam is hurting the forest, but no one will listen!' Nokk poked her nose up from beneath the water and Iduna stroked it. 'I'm so sorry girl. I tried.' She said defeated, then: 'No, I'll keep trying until they do listen.' She said resolutely then sighed. 'I know, I wish you could come on land with me too.'

Then the chamber dimmed and Anna blinked, bewildered, shocked, unable to process it all.

'Mother…' Was all she could squeak out. 'She was...'

'Just like you.' Elsa finished with a knowing smile. 'I felt like I was watching you Anna. She even looked like you. Fearless, determined, artistic, stubborn,' Elsa smirked with playfully squinty eyes. 'Unwavering love and belief. Anna that's you.'

Anna smiled and wiped a few stray tears from her eyes. 'She did always love winter.' She whispered sadly, memories flooding her.

Then sudden violent fighting broke out, surrounding Anna and Elsa on all sides of the fractaled chamber. Anna jerked, startled by the violence of this new scene. She watched, as what her father once told them unfolded before her eyes. Vicious, brutal fighting between Arendellian soldiers and the Northuldra. Then there was their mother again, in front of the same river, her hands waving frantically in front of Nokk as the fighting continued in the background.

'No, girl calm down its ok.' Iduna pleaded desperately. Nokk reared aggressively on the water, her eyes glowing with menace before turning and diving violently down into the river. Fire burst out in the trees around their mother then and she jumped, clearly frightened. She started to run.

'No, no no no—help!' She screamed as the ground shook beneath her, sending her flying into a rock wall. She sat up, visibly shaken and dazed but noticing an unconscious boy not far from her. Another blast of fire shot near her and she put up her hands defensively. She glanced around, and upon seeing no one, rushed over to the boy and examined him. Another blast of fire hit near them and she hunched over him protectively.

'Help, please!' She wailed. 'Help!' She screamed one final time, pleading desperately towards the sky. And then, she cupped a hand to her mouth and sang—an ancient Northuldran call to the spirits—and they answered her. Anna watched with wide teary eyes as some invisible force picked them up—her mother and her father—and carried them safely onto an Arendellian freight wagon just as the mist descended behind them. But—that couldn't have been Gale who carried them… The spirits were already in full rebellion at that stage and that would include Gale. No, this gust of wind looked like it had—Anna gasped and threw her hand over her mouth.

Snowflakes.

There were snowflakes in that arctic gust of wind that carried her mother and father to safety, yet the season looked like summer. These particular snowflakes Anna knew—had seen so many times she would know them in her sleep. It was not Gale, it was—

'Elsa…' Anna whispered and grabbed her sisters arm, clutching it harder than she meant to. She wasn't sure if she was in shock or simply about to pass out. At least she was only kneeling if she did eventually pass out. She pulled her eyes away from the scene long enough to glance at Elsa, whose eyes were also wide, glassy and fixated on the fractals.

'Elsa that's…you…your…'

'Spirit…' Elsa breathed, barely an audible whisper, her eyes still glued to the scene, wide with shock.

'But…how…?' Anna whispered into the ether, not expecting an answer.

'I don't know.'

The scene turned again, this time to Arendelle. Anna recognized the room, Elsa's adviser's—rather her adviser's meeting chambers.

'She is not of the Northuldra, and I don't want to hear that uttered in my court again, do you understand me?' It was the voice of their father now, a grown man—a king—as he slammed his fist down on a table full of advisers. Anna had never seen her father react like that in the entire fifteen years she knew him, and it frightened her a little.

'The fact of the matter is, Your Majesty, that the people think she is. They still call for the imprisonment of any indigenous natives that are found within our realm—the people are still frightened—and rightly so after what they did to your father and the strange, disturbing practices of dark magic and—othersinful customs they engage in.'

'I don't give a damn what the people think, or anyone else for that matter—I am their King. Iduna is to be my wife, their Queen, and if you want to keep your job I suggest you figure out a way to convince the people of the truth. That she is not of the Northuldra—and I will have no more discussion of this in my court! Enough is enough!'

The fractals shifted again, revealing her mother and father kissing, only it appeared as if her mother was—pregnant?

'Iduna you're freezing, here put on your scarf.'

'I'm not cold, I promise.' She smiled. As a young adult no more than Elsa's age, Anna couldn't help but think how much she really did look like Elsa—Elsa with dark hair—and how beautiful she was.

'But your skin is nearly freezing to the touch.' Agnarr said, a hint of worry in his voice, wrapping the scarf around her anyway.

'This little one is special Agnarr, I can feel it. But I'm not afraid.' Iduna said lovingly as she looked down at her protruding belly and caressed it. Anna dared a quick glance at Elsa who now had tears of her own wetting her cheeks. She reached out and grabbed her sisters hand as the scene shifted again.

A wispy blonde haired little girl ran down a long corridor of the castle, her hair streaming behind her in a tiny braid, leaving a trail of little snowflake flurries in her wake.

'Mama!' She cried happily and ran into Iduna's outstretched arms. Little Elsa, before Anna was born. Anna smiled and squeezed her sisters hand.

'When, when?' Elsa squeed excitedly, and placed a hand on Iduna's once again, pregnant stomach.

'It shouldn't be long now my darling.' Iduna answered with a smile and stroked Elsa's hair.

'I can't wait for her!' Three year old Elsa said and put an ear to Iduna's belly—listening.

'How do you know it's a she?' Iduna asked curiously.

Little Elsa shrugged. 'Oh, I just know.' She said and hugged Iduna's leg before skating off down the hallway. Anna's eyes were burning with tears again and all she could do was squeeze Elsa's hand to try and suppress them. Elsa loved her before she was even born... She did not want to miss any of this.

Then: Little Anna lying in a crib—Elsa not much older than the previous scene, perched on the side of it, her arm clinging to the edge of it, peeking over and giggling. Her other hand swirled above baby Anna and rained down little snowflake flurries onto her. Baby Anna giggled and smiled as a snowflake landed on her nose, she reached her arms up to the falling snow.

'El… El…' She called up in a baby voice. Elsa giggled and rained down more snowflakes. Anna's breath hitched, dangerously close to losing control again.

'Iduna, what do we do about this? She'll be queen someday—how do you think the people will react to her?' Agnarr asked, fear and sadness laced in his voice.

'We do nothing. She isn't hurting anyone—and the people will learn to accept her one day as they have learned to accept me. She's so smart and kind hearted Agnarr, she will make a great queen someday. Perhaps she is even the key—the key to uniting our people and freeing the forest.' Anna felt a swell of pride in her chest—Elsa had been a great queen, a fantastic queen—their mother had been very right about that.

The fractals shifted again and Anna's eyes whirred as images from her childhood flashed before them—familiar images. Images she sort of remembered but didn't remember completely. She and Elsa ice skating—only in summer? Elsa had made the ice. Sledding—Elsa propelling them with snow. Playing enchanted forest in a mound of snow inside the castle. Elsa reading aloud to her from a story book, acting out the story with snow sculptures as Anna danced happily with them. Building a snowman and sliding around on ice inside the ballroom! Anna's eyes watched with teary glory as the faded memories returned to her head at last—as if from a hazy dream they emerged—one she could remember but not quite grasp entirely.

Love.

There was so much love. How had she ever forgotten these memories?

She felt Elsa's hand tense, bringing her out of her mesmerized glory. Confused, she glanced over at her, and saw that she had cast her eyes down and away from the scene. Why?

Anna looked back to the ballroom scene, unwilling to miss but a single second of—

The ballroom.

This is where it happened. Elsa had told her, not entirely the specifics, but now she needed to see it for herself. The proverbial moment that changed their lives forever. It was time to see it. She was ready—even if Elsa was not.

Anna watched as her younger self ran up the first snow mound and leapt to the next, long before Elsa had built it.

'Hang on.' Little Elsa said and shot a snow mound out of her hands as Anna jumped.

Elsa caught her, swiftly, gracefully as only Elsa could do. Little Anna leapt to the next and the next and the next—trusting implicitly in Elsa's ability to catch her, as the snow hills grew progressively taller with each jump. She was getting quite high—high enough to be dangerous if she fell…

'Catch me!' She heard herself yell—so like her mother—and Elsa caught her yet again.

'Wait!' Little Elsa yelled. 'Slow down!'

Then: Elsa slipped.

She slipped.

Slipped.

As if in slow motion her sister simply slipped, on ice of her own making. Elsa never slipped. At least not in any recollected memory Anna ever had. Elsa was practically perfect in everything she did—perfect.

Always perfect.

Because of this. Because she had slipped now? Here? Once, when she was only a little girl having innocent fun?

Adult Elsa ripped her hand out of Anna's just then, but Anna couldn't bring herself to tear her wide eyes away from the scene in front of her.

Little Elsa squirmed on the ground, clearly horrified Anna was going to fall—which she would if another snow drift did not catch her. Anna watched with wide eyes as little Elsa threw out her hand in one hasty last ditch effort to break Anna's fall, but she had missed.

Missed.

Elsa never missed.

But she did—and with that miss, she hit little Anna in the side of the head, sending her tumbling down, unconscious into a nearby snowdrift.

'Anna!' Little Elsa wailed and ran to her sister, cradling her head in her lap as a white streak snaked through her red hair.

'Mama, Papa!' Little Elsa screamed, and Anna watched as frost spread out from underneath her as she cried—scared icy frost—she had come to recognize over the years, and she felt her throat close up at watching little Elsa in pain. Frost collapsed their little snowman, crawled up and around the entire room creaking and cracking as it went.

'You're ok Anna, I've got you.' Little Elsa whispered over her—scared and still crying, yet she clung to and comforted little Anna. Anna felt a tear slip out.

'Elsa what have you done!' Their father burst through the icy doorway followed by their mother—and immediately Anna hated the harsh accusatory tone he used with her. It wasn't her fault! Anna wanted to scream at their father—wanted to undo everything she'd just seen.

It was an accident!

The room dimmed, and all the memories faded, leaving Anna blinking in anger as her eyes adjusted to the darker room. Elsa's sniffling brought her to her senses.

'Oh Elsa.' Anna said softly as she glanced at her sister. She was slumped to the side, one hand propping her up on the ice the other digging her fingers into her scalp—her eyes completely averted from where the memories played. Her shoulders were spasming with silent heaves of tears and Anna scooted over on her knees to face her.

'I'm so sorry Anna.' Elsa whispered and shook her head, keeping her eyes fixated on the ice below her—one tear fell down and splattered on the ice.

What words could Anna offer her now, that she hadn't already said? There were none that she could think of, and for once she was at a loss. All that was different after watching that memory was that it confirmed once and for all that Anna had always been right. That Elsa had never been to blame and that keeping them apart for an accident as trivial as what she had just witnessed was the single greatest mistake her parents had ever made. So instead she hugged her, pulled Elsa into her arms and squeezed her with a thousand words that she for once did not know how to speak. Elsa clutched her back and cried, and the only thing she could think to say in that moment was:

'I love you.'