Rifiuto: Non Miriena

A/N: So, just a heads up: Frozen took place in 1844, and Frozen II in 1847, so for this story, which is set two years after Frozen II, that means it's 1849, which fits, because Elsa is roughly 26 going on 27. Which all makes it easier given the historical facts in this specific chapter. Zani tried to keep this as close to historically accurate as possible, despite the Disney magic.

Written: 2019 - Licia

What? What had Kristoff just said?

Her blue gaze snapped open, and she pulled away, looking up at him. "What? What did you just say?"

A soft smile tugged at his lips, and he gently brushed the tears away with his thumb. "Elsa, what you're feeling? Those butterflies? It means you're falling in love."

She pulled away, yanking out of his embrace, stunned. "No. No! Gods, no! That's not what it means!"

"Elsa!" He grabbed her wrist, holding gently to stop her from mounting the Nokk again. She turned back. "Elsa, you have had no experience in the means of love. This is your first experience, so of course it's going to scare you-"

"Not with Hans, Kristoff!" She ground out, yanking on her wrist, but he refused to let her go. "The man tried to assassinate me and left my sister to die!"

"Elsa, I know, alright! I was there, I remember, just like you do! But Elsa-" She struggled again, finally wrenching free. Without a word, she scrambled back onto the Nokk, grabbing the reigns and nudging the horse to go, only to have Kristoff step into her path and reach for her. "He could have changed! It's been years since you've seen him!"

She put her hands over her ears, shutting her eyes tight. "No!"

"Elsa, I know you're scared, believe me, I get it. I've felt the same way as you're feeling now. And it's terrifying, it really is. But once you accept it, you begin to realize that it's this marvelous feeling that gives life meaning-"

She shook her head, removing her hands from her ears and opening her eyes. She stared down at him, suddenly regretting her decision to leave the camp. He stared up at her with dark eyes filled with worry. "I'm sorry, Kristoff, but you're wrong!" And without another word, she turned the Nokk, moving him away from Kristoff. "Hyah!" The frosted water horse reared before taking off at a gallop from the stables, and through the town. He watched them go, not hearing the footsteps behind him until she spoke.

"Kristoff?" He turned, his words still ringing in the air.

"Those butterflies?"

Tears swam in her eyes as she watched her sister's figure fade into the horizon. "Why didn't she come to me instead?"

"It means you're falling in love."

His words were loud in her head, getting louder with each pulsing beat of her heart. No, it couldn't be true, she wouldn't allow it to be true. She knew what love was, and what she was beginning to feel for Hans was not love. No, what she felt for Anna, and Arendelle, and Kristoff himself, was love. What she felt for her parents and the Northuldra was love. Not... not this... not these... these flutterings in her stomach. Stress, anxiety, worry over the box and what it contained, how soon he would be healed enough to leave, her sometimes crushing loneliness, but not...

Not love.

Love was a passing fancy, something to be wary of, something to be feared, for people often squandered their lives away in sickness for it.

And yet, she couldn't help her mind as it went back to the ancient philosophers and their suggestions that love was two souls split in two, constantly searching for their other half so they could be complete. Love made men kill and women greedy; the great kings and queens of the medieval period played deadly games of intrigue, falling for and later discarding each other in a dangerous dance of romance- men like King Henry VIII of England and his six wives, each more doomed than the last, though only two lost their heads. Others also came to mind; dynasties she'd studied as a child, lost forever due to greed and excess- the Ptolemaic dynasty that Cleopatra hailed from, the famous Egyptian vixen who took two Roman lovers and later died by her own hand; the childish reign of Marie Antoinette, the Austrian princess who became Queen of France, who threw lavish parties while her people starved... and who, along with her husband, met the guillotine and lost her head for her excess.

She shook her head, spurring the Nokk faster. No, you are not like them! Each had the great misfortune of throwing love into the mix, and look where it got them! Gone, each one, with the passage of time and the sharpness of Death. But you... your reign survived. Your reign was strong, is still strong, for Anna, darling Anna, can never measure up to you, to what you'd done in your short years on Arendelle's throne. Anna may have the people's hearts, but she is a weak ruler in every other way, and you both know it. She has let love get in the way of her rule, and she will pay dearly, as the others in the history of monarchies have. Sooner or later, it will be Anna's head on a stake.

Elsa loved her sister, she really did, but she had begun to see that perhaps abdicating in Anna's favor had been her greatest mistake. Anna loved the people, yes, she did right by Arendelle, and yes, she had matured greatly over the years, but in the end, she was still the flighty little girl who had gone running through the castle halls when they were children, still being raised by their nursemaids.

Kristoff is wrong. This isn't love. There is no such thing as love for that... that... that Southern Isles bastard! For who could ever love a monster such as him?

And yet, her mind kept returning to those or royals past and even present- the Catholics Queen Isabella I and her husband, Ferdinand; Emperor Justinian and his wife, Theodora; even the current Queen of England, Victoria and her husband, Albert- of whom Elsa had had the pleasure of meeting a year before she had ended up in the Enchanted Forest. The young queen, only two years older than Elsa, had invited her to attend the baptism of her daughter, Princess Helena, and Elsa had accepted. She had found a great kindred spirit in the young British monarch, and the two had struck up a friendship that lasted the rest of Elsa's reign. To this day, she still received letters from Victoria, and still sent responses, though she had not informed her friend of her decision to abdicate, unsure of how to go about explaining such a major event.

What Victoria and Albert have is love. What you are feeling for Hans is not- never will be! It is something else entirely! You will never be like them, never fall as they fell, for love does nothing but make fools of us all, as Shakespeare wrote. And you are not a fool!

She swore she would never be like them, one who fell hopelessly in love with someone. She would never suffer the loss of a spouse, for fear madness would come, as it had for Juana la loca, the mad daughter of Isabella and Ferdinand, who had slept with her husband's corpse for years after. No, instead, she followed the example of the Virgin Queen, Elizabeth I, daughter of Henry VIII, turning down proposals and suitors because she did not need a man to help her rule, and would not so willingly give her heart away to one who did not deserve it.

But what of Mother and Father? Clearly, they loved each other, and they would only want her to be happy-

She spurred the Nokk on faster. I am happy! Just because Mother and Father were in love, and Anna and Kristoff, doesn't mean I have to be! Besides, look where it got them! An early grave at the bottom of the Dark Sea!

She tugged firmly on the reigns, and the Nokk stopped, rearing back. It could sense her panic, the riled emotions that crashed and churned like the waves of the Dark Sea, threatening to overtake her. Taking a deep breath, she forced herself to keep still, to not urge the horse to continue on. She could feel the ice beginning to coat her hands; she had to calm down before she lost complete control.

Breathe, Elsa, breathe. She slowly released a breath. You must calm down, darling. The flush of emotional exhaustion is not good on the face of a young lady, especially one of such high rank. You are not your sister; you cannot go around being flighty and careless; your title fits you for a reason. You are not just my Crown Princess, Gitta, my love, you are my crown jewel. A crown jewel must always shine, no matter the pressure she is under. Breathe.

Her mother's words rang loud in her head, the nickname her mother used only for her ringing loud in her head. Once she got her breathing under control, she turned her attention forward; they were not far from the camp. Gently, she reached down, patting the Nokk's frosted neck. "Shall we?"

With a lift of its head and a snort, the Nokk trotted forward, sensing the calm its rider now felt, no matter how fraudulent it was.