DISCLAIMER: All rights to "Frozen" and all its affiliate characters, settings etc. are owned by Disney. The opinions and content expressed here are personal thoughts of the author and does not intend in any way to assume ownership of the "Frozen" franchise.

One-Shot: Silent Company.

The night air was cool, but she did not feel it. She rarely felt any difference in the ambient temperatures of day or night, of summer or winter. She would not have known it was cold had she not seen some of the guards rub their hands together, or the mist that formed from their breaths. Hence, even though she did not need it, she slipped on a shawl over her shoulders and egressed out into the night.

She gave a friendly nod to the guards standing at the doorway before entering the royal gardens. She knew this was one of Anna's favourite places in the day, and saw some of the flowers Anna had planted herself. But at night, when everyone was sound asleep, it became her favourite place. Amidst the company of silent plants and redolent fragrances was a breath-taking view of the night sky.

Its depth and vastness gave her chills down her spine every time she looked at it. It was as if someone had decided to scatter a thousand white crystals over this shroud of endless navy blue. And so many were these white crystals, that they began forming patterns in the sky.

She knew some of the constellations, and tracing them out from the night sky became a kind of soothing ritual. The easiest to find was usually the constellation of the bear, and its seven stars. From there, she could pick out the others, depending on the season. Tonight, the constellation of the eagle was particularly clear, its tail practically ablaze in white fire.

…

She knew this was one of Anna's favourite places because she had heard Anna's excited squealing when her first pot of calendulas began bloom. She had heard Anna chattering spiritedly with the gardener, asking if she could try out other varieties of flowers. She had heard Anna fawning over how beautiful they were, and how fragrant.

Heard, not seen. Because her window did not overlook the garden.

Anna had made a hobby of it, as she had many other things to pass her time. This, Elsa noted, was the first activity she picked up since the death of their parents. While Anna had always attempted a variety of endeavours to pass her time, Elsa preferred the familiar sanctuary of books. Often, she would sneak out at a time she knew the librarian was away, or when everyone was asleep, and pick some books for herself to read in her room. Her past-times had to be limited to only those she could do within her room.

After some time, it had sounded like the gardener was confident enough to let Anna handle an official patch of the gardens. "Looks like you really do have a knack for this, Princess," the gardener had said. "Well, I couldn't have done it without your help," Anna replied. Elsa imagined Anna blushing, tucking her hair behind her ears as she said that.

"What do you think Elsa's favourite flower is?" This startled her.

Apparently, it had startled the gardener as well, because Elsa caught hints of stammering, before, "I – … I'm not sure, Princess."

White crocus.

"Hmm… I supposed we'll just go with everything, then."

Anna's casual remark was befuddling. Then, half an hour later, Elsa heard the all-familiar, tell-tale knock on her door.

Tat-tata-rat-ta.

A small note slid under her door. It was tied to something outside her room with delicate red thread. The note read:

This is for you.

- Anna

She did not reply, did not open the door, did not make any noise. She just waited, waited as her heart ached, until the soft pads of footfalls on a carpet floor receded to nothing, and then she waited some more. Finally, she inched her door open, hoping no one was lingering around the corridor.

There. Lying on the floor, on the other end of the thread, wrapped in white paper and crepe, tied with a neat bow of red-and-gold ribbon, was the most mismatched bouquet of flowers she had ever seen. As quick as she could, she grabbed the bouquet from outside her room and shut the door.

There was only one flower of each variety, but it was already quite a hefty bouquet. There was a sunflower, one of her calendulas, a gerbera, a tulip, a cornflower, a narcissus, a rose, a daisy, an orchid and several other varieties she did not recognise. Elsa noticed, with slight amusement, that Anna had also added some greenery, as if this pungent medley of flowers could be called an arrangement. And yet, it was something only Anna could have done, and suddenly this bouquet felt very precious to her.

She was curious. She wanted to see more. Thus, she waited again for nightfall, then for the lights to be extinguished, and then for the servants to sleep, before once more tiptoeing out of her room in the cover of night. She avoided the boards that creaked and the late-night patrol of the guards, until she ultimately arrived at the royal garden.

The garden was silent as death. A waning crescent moon bathed the plants and the structures there in silver and mauve, muting the bright colours of the flowers. The leaves and other green plants were smattered with dark green and grey. A bone-coloured archway entangled in creepers and vines casted its long, moonlight-dappled shadow over the raised garden beds. It was hauntingly beautiful.

Here in the garden, the fragrances did not compete with one another, lending a pervasive, pleasant perfume with hints of spice or flora or wet earth depending on where in the garden she stood. Elsa knelt down on one of the troughs placed near the raised beds. It had dark pink petals that looked so soft and powdery. She reached out a finger to touch, but then hastily retracted her hand, horrified. She could not destroy these flowers with her ice, not after all the effort Anna had put into them.

She sighed, looking up to the night sky on a whim. And her breath caught.

Stars. So many stars! They sparkled like snowflakes trapped in the heavens, utterly different from the drab specks of ink in her books. She picked out a constellation she recognised, and then another. And for the first time in a very long while, she felt at ease.

She came to the garden more often after that, always at night, to gaze at the stars while surrounded by her sister's flowers. It was the closest she had felt to Anna since the… since the accident. Sometimes, she imagined the flowers were awake with her, and she would whisper to them the name of each of the constellations while tracing them in sky, reciting the stories behind them. And she imagined that they listened to her in silence, with patience, when she told the same stories the next night she came.

Then came that day.

"Princess, are you sure?" the gardener sounded uncertain. "These are very difficult to grow, especially here."

"But I bet they'd be wonderful at night," Anna had replied.

"But Princess, no one will be awake to see them at the night."

"Yeah, but I still think they make a good addition to the garden, don't you think?" Anna sounded cheerful, optimistic in comparison to the gardener, who at this point was making confused sounds. It took several tries before Anna finally got them to bloom.

Moonflowers. Their ghostly, creamy petals opened up only at night, looking like spectral orbs suspended in the air. Its floral fragrance was subtle and sweet and perfect for night walks. It stood apart from all the other flowers, in that it only ever showed its full ephemeral bloom to Elsa, as if they shared some secret in their uniqueness. It became Elsa's second favourite flower after the white crocus.

…

"Can't sleep?" A familiar voice from behind woke Elsa from her reminiscing. Anna walked towards her, rubbing and blowing on her hands for warmth, before pulling a much thicker looking shawl over her shoulders. "Just came to look at the stars," Elsa's heart did a quick flip for joy as Anna stood close beside her, their shoulders touching, and followed Elsa's gaze upward to the sparkling sky.

"It's soothing," Elsa explained, trying to share a piece of her life with her sister. "Especially here among the flowers."

Anna hmm-ed, and then went silent.

"You know, I planted some of these flowers," she said after a while. Her tone was hush, as if trying not to intrude on the moment. "They're beautiful, Anna," Elsa had wanted to tell her that for years.

Perhaps she could not do anything about the moments they had lost, but she could try to make something out of the moments they had now.

And so, as she had practised so many times with the flowers, she traced the constellations in the sky, saving the best for last, "… and you see those stars there that form a kind of arrow in the sky? That's the constellation of the eagle. Those three stars that form a hook from its middle is the tail. And the brightest star on that tail – "

"is Altair. The eagle star," Anna finished, as her head rested upon Elsa's shoulder. "I know. The flowers told me."