Rifiuto: Non Miriena

A/N: Written: 2019 - Licia

The door shut softly behind her.

She had stayed for supper, choosing the sit with Hans instead of with the tribe, partially because his leg was not fully healed to where he could make use of it, and partially because she did not want to face the others. They ran through possible ways to open the box, but each seemed more convoluted than the last, until they finally just ate in silence, casting quick glances at each other, the box on the ground between them. When finally Elsa took the bowls back, their fingers touched again, and she once more quickly pulled away as Hans whispered a hurried, "Sorry". One returned, she wrapped the box back in the banner, slipped it into her bag and fled.

Without a word, she set her bag on the bed and then got changed, trading out her tunic and leggings for pajamas, but left her braid in, not having the energy to undo it. A sigh escaped her lips as she thought of Hans's story.

A forbidden romance, lost love, death, magic and a curse... it certainly is a fairy tale. She turned her gaze to the vanity in her room; without a word, she went over and gently yanked open one of the drawers. Inside, sat a simple box made of ice. She reached for it and then stopped. The gift that sat within was for her sister; it had been made for her sister's coronation, but Elsa hadn't gone.

Or, as Kristoff had told her in the last letter he'd sent not long after Elsa had left Arendelle, Anna hadn't invited her.

And when she'd asked why- Hell, when everyone had asked why- Anna had said that Elsa was 'busy protecting the forest and couldn't make it', of which Kristoff had called her out on it. The redhead had then lied and said that she'd sent the invitation, but that her sister had never replied back, and when Kristoff had asked Elsa, the older sister had replied that she'd never received an invitation, to neither the coronation, or the statue unveiling of their parents that happened not long after. Kristoff had later found the invitations tossed in the drawer of Anna's desk.

For some reason, Anna was trying her hardest to keep Elsa out of Arendelle, even if that meant deceiving not just her fiance, but her people. It was as though Anna was...

It seems that she is either ashamed of you, which doesn't make any sense, because Anna has always looked up to you, or that she's jealous, but I don't know why she would be jealous. You have done nothing that would warrant her jealousies and wrath. You have done nothing but love her as a sister should. Please, Elsa, don't take this as your fault, for you've done nothing wrong.

She sighed, Kristoff's words fading into the crackling of the fire. He was right, she'd done nothing wrong, not that she could think of. This was Anna's doing, her reactions, her callousness. And yet... and yet, Anna had always been pushed to the side, even before Elsa had become queen. Their parents had focused more on making sure she was able to control her powers- or, at least, on making sure she would be ready to be queen when the time came- than Anna, and Elsa had always felt guilty for it. As the Crown Princess, Elsa's status had been higher than Anna's; she'd been the one who would take the crown, who's marriage would be political in nature, who would have all of Arendelle rest their hopes and dreams upon her small, slender shoulders.

By far, Anna had it easy, compared to her. She was the one who got to be carefree and didn't have to worry about the lives of their people, who didn't have to face a crown upon her head and the duties that came with it, who could marry for love, not politics. And yet, from Kristoff's observations, it seemed that Anna was jealous, not necessarily of the duties Elsa had as queen, but for the love the people of Arendelle had for her. Which made no sense, because Anna had always been the 'People's Princess'.

And yet, even when locked within the gates, Anna was constantly loved by the people, because she was the type people loved. But you, you were the mystery, the forgotten one, so of course the people would love you because they had rarely ever seen you, which, maybe, had made them love you even more. Anna was allowed to roam the castle freely, without fear of hurting anyone. Whereas you, who had been locked away from age of eight until you turned eighteen, when Father and Mother decided to let you out for lessons, but only when Anna was occupied on the other end of the castle. But even with those sporadic moments of freedom, it was still thirteen years of isolation. Forced isolation.

A moment passed, as she reached for the small box; her fingers closed around the thick black ice, and she lifted it out. It glistened in the dim light, and slowly, she lifted the lid, throat beginning to clog.

Mother had had one similar made for you when you were coronated; she left it for you in the desk of the library with a note.

She swallowed. She remembered that moment well; when, hours before the coronation, she'd snuck out of her room and hurried down the hall on quick feet towards the library. The box had sat wrapped in beautiful blue paper with a silver ribbon and a letter rolled up and tied with a ribbon. It was tradition in Arendelle for a reigning queen to gift a necklace to a newly coronated queen, something that represented the best aspects of the person, considered a symbol of good luck and prosperity for a long reign. She reached up, reaching beneath her top, feeling the pendant, and pulled it out. It shone in the darkness, the beautiful tails swirling in a mixture of gold and bronze. She had never removed it, not since the day she'd found it waiting for her. And Mother's letter, she kept in a small box of mementos in her nightstand drawer, though she'd read it so much, she knew it by heart.

Gitta, my Darling,

As you read this, you know what it stands for, and what is within the box. It is your time to take the throne of Arendelle, and lead her into the new age, as the great queen I know you will be. Do not be scared, for Papa and I have trained you well. You are strong, and so very, very brave. You are the queen that Arendelle needs, has always needed. I know that even now, hours before you wear the crown, you are worrying about Anna, but you mustn't. Anna will be fine; her life is not meant for the throne, her destiny lies elsewhere, far beyond the gates of our fair Arendelle. You need not worry about it.

Arendelle is yours, and yours alone. I know it sounds harsh, Gitta, my love, but Papa and I both know that you will be a fine and strong leader; you will rule with a steady hand and a kind, gracious heart, despite your powers. Your powers are not what determines your fate, darling. You are not determined by your powers, remember that. Our people love you, despite not having seen you for thirteen years, and I'm afraid that's our fault. We did what we thought was best for you; now we know that that was perhaps the wrong decision. Papa and I have made so many mistakes in our lifetime, the worst of all was cutting you off from not just Anna, but Arendelle and her people. But please know this, my Gitta, that not once have the people forgotten you. They love you, perhaps more than Anna. They recognize that you will be crowned their leader this day, and they rejoice, for they have only ever held love in their hearts for you, from the moment of your conception. Your sister may be the people's princess, but you- you, Gitta, my darling, my love- are the people's queen. You are the one they will turn too in times of hardship.

I am sorry to tell you this way, darling, but in a year's time, you are to marry the young prince of the Isles. This is as much a political alliance as we hope it will be a love match; it was decided not long after you were born that you would be betrothed to the young prince. He is a mere two years older than you, so you have nothing to worry about, and we can only hope that he is kind to you, and that you will grow to love each other. And he will have to learn to bow to your will, for he will not be your king. It is tradition in Arendelle that a queen does not take a king; she takes a prince-consort, but he has no real power. Unless something were to happen, your husband will never take the throne, so you need not worry. I am sorry you had to discover your betrothal this way, but Papa and I were not even sure we could go through with it if your powers got too out of control. It was only after I decided that perhaps the young prince would be able to help you calm and focus and be good for you, that Papa did not break the betrothal. Your well being has always been at the forefront of our minds and actions. We would not have agreed to the betrothal if we did not feel it would benefit you in some major way.

Please, Gitta, darling, wear this necklace with pride. It is to remind you that even with your powers, even with the fear you feel, you are still the light of our lives, the light of Arendelle. That just because you possess powers over ice and snow, does not mean you are not as bright and warm as the sun that shines through the windows. You are my firstborn, my crown jewel, my baby girl. You are the sunlight that came into my life on the eve of the Winter Solstice; you have always been my sunlight, and will always be, even after I draw my last breath. Wear this necklace today and remember where you came from, remember who you are and where you belong. Accept your past and embrace your future, and always turn your face to the sun, my Gitta. Remember, the strongest glaciers face the sun daily and never melt completely away; you are strong, just like the glaciers. Turn your face to the sun, and never let yourself melt completely away. And remember that Papa and I love you. We always have, we always will. And we are so proud of you, of the young woman you have become, of the great queen you will be.

And when you wear the necklace, remember that no matter where your journeys as queen take you, the love Papa and I have for you, my darling, will always lead you homeward bound, to Arendelle- where you belong. I love you, Gitta, and I am so, so proud of you, my beautiful crown jewel, my ice crystal.

Love,

Mama

Something jarred within her mind, and she hurried to the bed, taking a seat and pulling open her nightstand drawer. After rummaging around in the small box, she found the letter and read it. Her heart skipped a beat; so her memory hadn't failed her. It was there in stark black ink.

... in a year's time, you are to marry the young prince of the Isles...

She swallowed thickly, her mind flashing back to her hut. Hans.

Had her parents really... she swallowed. A betrothal. She had been betrothed to a prince of the Isles. That didn't necessarily mean the Southern Isles. But they are the only island kingdom close enough to Arendelle. And it would not be unheard of for Mother and Father to set a betrothal when you were a baby; other royalties do it all the time. If you had married and had a child, you would have done the same.

But the Southern Isles?

She turned back to the box in her grasp; she knew what remained tucked inside. The snowflake necklace she'd made for Anna for her coronation- crafted of beautifully delicate ice and frost, bits of snow at each end, and a delicate ice crystal in the center. Elsa had managed to get enough control over her powers that she could set ice-made objects to without fear of them melting in the heat, or against something like skin. It was a strange form of alchemy that she practiced in her spare time, testing the limits of her magic and how far she could push it and herself.

A moment passed before she set the box down on the bed and got up, slipping back into her boots and grabbing a cloak. She didn't have time to worry about Anna and her jealousies, she had to talk to Hans. There was something he needed to see.