AN: Cheers!


Anna lifted her arms above her head, stretching out stiff muscles. As she slouched against the back of her chair, the papers spread across her lap shifted, Anna quickly grabbed for them before they fell to the floor. She had spent the last several hours organizing the growing stack of letters and missives that would eventually demand her sister's attention.

The contents of many letters were things Anna couldn't respond to, either because she didn't know the answer, or because the writer was specifically looking for a response from the Queen. That didn't stop Anna from wanting to help. After much thought and deliberation, and maybe some complaining unbecoming of a princess, Kai had suggested Anna sort through the large stack of letters according to urgency. Anna went one step further, assembling them into piles containing good news, bad news, urgent requests or inquiries, and then those that were utterly annoying. The last pile was comprised mostly with marriage suggestions and things of a similar nature. Things she knew Elsa would have to read through and answer but would despise doing so.

Anna opened each letter, skimmed the first paragraph, then dropped it into one of four boxes sitting at her feet. It wasn't a hard task and allowed her to help Elsa with work while also staying close. But, after spending the last two days barely leaving her sister's room, she had a newfound understanding of what it must have been like for Elsa growing up. At least, a fractional understanding of what it might have been like. Except that Anna could leave whenever she wanted. According to Elsa, though, she always had that option; their parents had never forced her to stay in her room. Being stuck inside the castle walls for thirteen years had made Anna restless and antsy at the best of times. To be confined to a single room, with the same four walls and only a window to the outside world. . .

Anna tried to imagine how terrified of herself Elsa must have been. The desperation and hope she felt when Markkus offered to show her how to control her magic had to have been overwhelming, and the heartache in learning he had only wanted to use her enough to take her to her knees.

She wanted to understand what her sister was going through, what Elsa would still have to recover from over the next few weeks or even months, but it was hard. Anna had nothing to draw from. She never had magic, or any skill that she could lose control over. She'd never had to worry about someone getting hurt because she was stressed or upset.

But she did know what it was like to be alone, to be lonely. To feel so desperate for a connection that you could allow yourself to become blind to all the warning signs. She knew what it was like to lose yourself within that fragile connection, and to push away that voice screaming at you 'this is wrong.' There were so many things Elsa was going through that Anna was helpless to help her through, but this was something she knew well. This was one thing she was sure she could help her sister come to terms with. If only she could find a way to convince Elsa to allow someone to help her.

Anna paused in her self-appointed task to watch the steady, deep rise and fall of her sister's chest. Elsa's fever had finally broken a couple of days ago, in the early morning hours, and had continued to drop slowly throughout the day. Her temperature was still higher than it should be, but so much better than the fire that had burned beneath her skin.

Elsa had been sleeping, a lot. It was a deep, restful sleep. There were still bouts of nightmares interrupting her slumber, but with a gentle hand and calm voice she fell back to sleep without really waking up. As her temperature continued to drop, her breathing improved, and around mid-day, with Anna's help, the doctor had cautiously administered something to help settle Elsa's stomach. When there was no signs of nausea, Malthe also gave the sleeping woman a much-needed dose of painkillers, which smoothed the creases in the corner of Elsa's eyes and allowed her to sleep solidly, peacefully.

Elsa continued to improve over the course of the next day, though Anna grew worried when her sister didn't wake. Unable to keep her fears at bay, she asked Malthe about it, and felt indescribably better when the older man offered a gentle smile. "It's fully expected," he told her. Elsa's body and mind had gone through an enormous amount of stress that had brought her to the brink of death not once but twice, in a very short amount of time. Now, she was finally healing and recovering, and it was likely she would sleep for at least another day before she began to show any signs of waking. Even then, the doctor had told her, Elsa would likely have a hard time staying awake for any real period of time.

The physician even joked that if he could have his wish, the Queen would sleep straight through the rest of the month, but he knew his Queen and she was not one to lie around idle. Malthe estimated that she would likely wake sometime today, tomorrow at the latest, and then they all knew it would only be a matter of time before she attempted a return to work.

Anna knew she was going to have to create a list of things Elsa could do, workwise, while recovering, as well as those things she would not be able to do. She wasn't even going to attempt to keep Elsa from working, As that was an impossible task and would only serve to add stress for them both. She had learned her lesson with Elsa's head injury. Instead of trying to keep her sister from working, maybe Anna could give her just enough work to distract her, but not so much that she wasn't still technically resting.

A hitch in Elsa's breathing drew Anna's attention back to the present, and a soft groan brought her to her sister's bedside. Anna perched on the edge of the mattress and watched Elsa's eyelids flutter.

"Hey there, sleepy head," Anna whispered. She wrapped her fingers around Elsa's left hand and squeezed gently, rubbing her thumb over the back of her sister's fingers.

Elsa blinked at her, then her gaze slipped from Anna's face, moving around the room. "We're home?" she asked, her voice a hoarse murmur.

"Yeah." Anna felt her chest tighten as joy and sadness entwined around her heart. This was the first time since they had returned home that her sister was aware of her surroundings. Anna tightened her fingers around Elsa's, drawing the woman's attention back to her. "How are you feeling?"

"Awful." Elsa shifted on the bed. "And gross." She turned her head and sniffed, scrunched up her nose.

Anna chuckled. "Well, maybe if we ask Malthe really nicely, we can see about getting you a bath, which I am in full support of, as you smell, just . . . horrifying."

Elsa's eyes widened, then narrowed. She pulled her hand from Anna's grasp and twisted her wrist. Anna squeezed her eyes shut, waiting for the inevitable rush of cold with no regrets. When nothing happened, she cracked her eyes open To see Elsa had merely stuck her tongue out.

"Hardly the proper conduct for a Queen," Anna teased.

Instead of answering, Elsa yawned widely, clearly fighting the tug of sleep as her eyes drifted shut once more.

"Before you fall asleep," Anna said, twisting on the bed to grab a cup from the nightstand, "Malthe wants you to drink some water. Pretty much whenever you are awake."

"Not thirsty," Elsa murmured.

"I know. But you've barely had anything over the last—" Anna tilted her head, realizing she didn't actually know how long it had been since Elsa was last awake enough to drink anything. "Malthe says you're severely dehydrated and regardless of whether you're thirsty or not, you have to drink something."

Elsa glared sleepily at the cup, but sighed heavily and nodded.

"Oh, I should also warn you, there is salt and sugar mixed in with the water. Malthe said it was because . . . something, something, something medical."

Elsa lifted her eyebrows, but she made no comment. Taking the silence as acceptance, Anna wrapped an arm around her sister's shoulders and helped her lean forward enough to drink.

Elsa was halfway through the cup before she pulled away, shaking her head.

Anna looked down at the contents of the cup but decided not to push her sister into finishing it. Not this time. If Elsa threw it up, the whole thing would be for nothing, so she set the cup to the side. Half was better than nothing. "Sorry."

Elsa didn't say anything as she rested back against the pillows with a deep sigh, blinking heavily.

Anna leaned forward and pushed Elsa's hair from her face. "Sleep," she said, "and I'll see about getting you that bath the next time you wake up."


As promised, Anna talked to Malthe about a bath. He agreed, but cautioned Anna to be careful with the still healing wounds. Gerda drew the bath and Anna took on the task of waking her sister up. It took a few tries, Elsa groggily blinking up at her as she struggled through the exhaustion that threatened to pull her back under. Once Elsa was awake though, she-of course-insisted on walking herself, refusing even the idea of someone carrying her.

Anna only wished she could have been surprised. She debated if an argument would be worth the effort, but before she could decide, Malthe suggested letting Elsa walk if she felt up to it might be good for her. Anna was surprised, but with the doctor's support any argument Anna had was effectively dead in the water.

She and Gerda wrapped the stubborn women in a robe and helped her walk, or totter, to the bath across the hall. Elsa all but collapsed on the stool next to the tub, puffing out air like she'd run up the North Mountain and back. Between the warm, soothing water and the exertion of the short walk, Elsa was asleep only moments after settling into the tub.

Anna let her sister sleep, washing the sweat and grime from Elsa's pale skin. Most of the bruising had faded away, leaving nothing more than an awful memory. She woke Elsa enough to dress in a clean robe and a light, comfortable nightgown. Then had one of the maids track down Kristoff; if someone had to carry Elsa back to her room, Anna knew her sister would be far more comfortable knowing it was him, rather than a random guard or staff member.

Elsa made an incoherent noise of protest when Kristoff lifted her into his arms, but she drifted off before they made it back to the room, where a freshly made bed was waiting. The doctor checked her wounds, applied a generous amount of salve and covered them. He woke Elsa enough to drink some water and take some medicine, afterwards there was nothing left to do but allow her to sleep. Elsa was still going through withdrawal, dealing with nightmares, muscles cramps, and bouts of restlessness, but the worst of it was over and the rest dulled out by the medication Malthe was able to give her once more.

Finally, things seem to be looking up. Anna allowed herself to relax, to breathe. She met with the council, tended to some minor business that needed done and even took a bath herself, followed by a full night's rest right next to her sister. It wasn't until four days later that Elsa was able to stay awake for any real length of time. When Anna woke to a hushed conversation between her sister and Malthe.

"—not all at once, of course." Malthe's voice was low, like they were trying not to wake her. "But we'll slowly reduce the amount and frequency of the painkillers you are currently on. The new medication is less potent, so you will have to be honest with your level of pain."

Anna couldn't hold back her snort that rolled through her. Malthe might as well been asking for . . . she wasn't sure, as nothing was more unlikely than Elsa being honest about her own health.

"Morning sleepy head." Elsa still sounded exhausted and half asleep herself, but her words were like music to Anna's ears.

Anna pushed herself up against the headboard studying her sister. Elsa looked like she sounded; exhausted, but so much better than before. There was healthy color in her cheeks, and her breathing was deep and even. Anna wanted to throw her arms around her sister and never let go, but she resisted, knowing that even if Elsa looked better, there was still a hole in her side, and multiple broken bones still healing. But she didn't bother fighting the wide, relieved smile that spread across her face. She shifted closer to her sister, until their shoulders were touching.

"Morning, Your Highness." Malthe dipped his head. "I was just informing Her Majesty that I am hoping to switch the pain medication she is taking starting today."

"That's good, right?" Anna drew her knees up and wrapped her arms around them.

He nodded. "It's very good. The new medication will be less effective, but it won't leave you groggy," he said, looking at Elsa. "It's the same thing you took for the headaches you had after your concussion."

Anna frowned and stored that information away for later.

"I'd rather not have to take anything," Elsa said tiredly.

"I understand, ma'am, but your injuries, especially the broken bones, will be tender for quite some time. This will allow you to return to work once you are ready, with minimal discomfort."

Elsa sighed and nodded.

Malthe dipped his chin. "Very good, ma'am. I will have Rayna mix up a batch and have some brought up later today."

Anna remained quiet as the doctor left the room, leaving them alone. She waited a beat before asking, "How are you feeling? Like, really feeling?"

Elsa stared into the empty space in front of her. She opened her mouth but before she could get a word out, Anna interrupted her.

"And don't say you're fine."

Elsa snapped her mouth shut. She pressed her lips into a thin line as her face folded with a frown. "Anna," she said hesitantly, "what do you remember?"

It took a moment for Anna's mind to catch up with the sudden shift of topic. "What?"

"About..." Elsa's gaze was locked firmly on her hands, her fingers twisting unconsciously in the light sheet. "About freezing?"

Everything. The unwelcome answer echoed in her mind. Anna remembered all of it. Her fingers growing so painfully stiff that she was afraid they might shatter if she tried to bend them. She remembered how every breath was a painful stab, the air freezing within her lungs. The slow creep of ice traveling through her veins, burning as it consumed her, little by little. Remembered the fear that each step she took would be her last, that she wouldn't make it, that there would be no act of true love to save her.

Anna knew immediately why her sister was asking, she recalled Tyr, the frozen look of terror that was carved permanently across his face. But even as those thoughts crowded her mind, Anna looked at her sister and saw not the strong Queen of Arendelle or her stubborn, hardheaded sister, but a woman who had spent the last thirteen years terrified of herself. A woman who was still afraid of what she could do, and what she could lose. Anna knew that no matter how honest and open she wanted her relationship with Elsa to be, she would never be able to tell her this. Elsa might find out the truth eventually, and she may even be pissed with Anna for hiding it, but the sliver of peace she could offer her sister now was more than worth all the angry glares her future might hold.

Anna wrapped her fingers around her sister's and gently pulled them from where they were tangled in the blanket. "Not much," she said in a soft voice. "I remember being cold, like really cold, and running out into the fjord. I remember seeing Hans drawing his sword, and then . . . you hugging me for the first time in thirteen years."

Elsa met her gaze. "Nothing else?"

Anna shook her head. "No," she lied, knowing she should feel bad for how easy it was, but she would not add to her sister's pain. "Nothing else."