Anna's eyes were dead. Like the light was gone from them.

It was the first time Elsa had seen her sister like this. The girl was always so buoyant, so alive, so stubborn, Elsa thought nothing could bring her down. Anna always bounced back. Always. From everything.

They watched, as the casket was brought into the room and one of their father's close friends, Kai Evenstad, gave a eulogy at the stand.

Elsa glanced over at her sister, not sure if Anna even heard what the man was saying. Despite all the weeping the younger girl had done when they first received news of his demise, there were no tears now. Elsa wasn't sure which she preferred.

She felt so helpless. All she could do was clasp her sister's hand tightly, as if she were trying to hold the younger girl together. She wasn't sure if she was watching an implosion or a conflagration. She didn't need to physically see it. It was almost like she could hear it. Which was worse?

It was so strange to see no animation on her sister's face. Was that representative of how far gone Anna was? Did the death of their father kill her sister too?

Even more than helplessness, she felt an odd twisting where her heart was supposed to be. The person dearest to her was suffering, and she couldn't do a thing to help. It hurt. It really hurt.

It hurt so much that she wished their father were still alive. She'd rather withstand his belt every day than watch this.

It was then that she decided she herself hurting was a thousand times better than watching Anna's pain.

Elsa wasn't sure why that memory had come to her now. It wasn't even related to the situation at hand. Was it a reminder that even now, she still hadn't escaped their father's shadow?

She should have expected this. She should have expected that she would be a pawn in her mother's quest for power. She should have known that given the type of world they lived in, there would be no room for humane interaction. She knew that their mother was predisposed to ignoring anyone else's opinions and desires.

Yet, despite all the logic, she still wasn't able to stop the sensation of the floor being pulled out from under her.

Yes, she should have expected this. But that did not make the shock of it any easier to bear.

She expected even less the strange words that flowed from her own mouth. "I wonder, Mother, do you even love us?" Her voice didn't sound like hers. It was foreign, detached.

Even Alana seemed to have been anticipating a different reaction. In spite of that, she laughed humourlessly. "One day you'll realize that everything I'm doing is for you, Elsa. You are excused."

But Elsa didn't leave. "Are you going to marry Anna off, too, to someone else whose company you desire?"

Alana's eyes hadn't left her since her first question. As usual, they were cold, calculating, piercing blue in the low light. "If it's necessary."

The sudden realization that struck her almost knocked the breath out of Elsa. It was so obvious. The real reason their parents didn't pay nearly as much attention to Anna's education as she had to Elsa's; they were raising Anna only as leverage to be spent in return for benefits to the company.

Another question forced its way through the rage that was burning in the forefront of Elsa's mind. Again, unexpected. "Were you married to Father against your will?"

"You are excused." Alana opened one of the files on her desk, a signal that the conversation is finished.

"I'm not going to marry Hans Falk just because it makes it easier to assimilate his company." The blue eyes snapped to Elsa's again. Before her mother could respond, she asserted, "And I won't let you marry Anna to him, either." She felt almost smug that she was so familiar with their mother's tactics that she could counter them before the woman even fired them. "This time, Mother, it matters what I want."

Alana raised one eyebrow at her daughter's defiance, looking intrigued. "Oh?"

"Yes, because I am the heir. And I am going to prove to you that I will not need to use these petty tactics to secure the future of the company."

As she turned to leave, she heard a chuckle behind her. "Finally, you've grown a spine."

Elsa let out the air she'd been holding in since she left her mother's study when she entered her room and sank into her chair. The weight of her declaration was just beginning to hit her.

She wasn't ready for this. She hadn't even taken the liberty of accompanying her mother to any of the merger conferences to learn exactly how to persuade the CEO of another company into agreement. If anything, she was feeling the exact opposite. Even in her childhood, she was the submissive one, the obedient one, the follower, not the leader. Yes, she could command the respect and attention of an entire conference room of men. But that was only because she was good at acting like she knew what she was doing; the mask she wore was acquired from her interactions with her mother and hiding her feelings from Anna.

What was she going to do? If she failed, consequences would be dire for both of them; their mother would see that she was obviously not ready for leadership and most likely force them both into marriage for the benefit of the company.

Of all the lessons that she had been forced to take, proper social interaction was not one of them. Yes, she had manners and courtesies on par with the Queen of England, but her oratory skills were less than satisfactory when it came to argumentation and public speaking. She hated attention, partly because of her habitual isolation, partly because the only people she ever felt comfortable speaking with were Anna and Ariel.

Giving presentations in front of a lecture hall full of her peers was one thing; the projects were carefully prepared and delivery of the material did not rely on participation from the audience.

Arguments and debates on the other hand, they terrified her. They were different from meticulously planned presentations, because she could only guess at what the opposition was going to disclose. She couldn't write a rigid script, or know exactly what she was going to say, because she couldn't precisely determine what responses she would incur.

And not knowing was terrifying. Because it detracted from the control of the situation, the absolute control that her father had ironed into her. Because without control, she was bound to make mistakes.

And mistakes were costly.

And she was not about to make another one. She absolutely could not afford to make another mistake.

The thought of her father brought another glaring issue to her mind.

She realized, too late, that thoughtlessly blurting her feelings to Anna was a grave mistake. She should never have allowed her emotions to get the better of her. She should have controlled it, vehemently denied it, and maybe then she would have been able to remedy the damage that had already been caused.

Their relationship, if it proceeded to be romantic, would no doubt destroy them both in more ways than one. It had to be stopped, before it took root any deeper in her heart.

She already let it go too far. It needed to be stopped. Even if it meant pain for both of them. But, at least, this pain would heal; it would be better than the complete and absolute heartbreak that Anna would suffer if she found out the truth about their father. The truth that ran thick and deep across the skin of Elsa's back. Elsa couldn't do that to her.

Anna absolutely adored their father. Elsa could tell, even at a young age, that he was Anna's idol. The way her face lit up when he looked at her. The way her eyes shone when she looked at him. The excitement that coloured her voice when she talked about him.

The utter heartbreak that had seized her entire body when he died.

And Elsa would have regarded him the same way, if not for…

She clenched her jaw. Control.

"Why are you crying? I'm the one who fell," her seven-year-old self asked the weeping redhead beside her. Elsa had accidentally fallen on black ice and scraped her elbow.

It didn't hurt. Not really. It was Anna bursting into tears beside her that really hurt her.

"I don't know," the five-year-old sobbed. "It hurts."

Sympathy pain, one of the doctors called it. Anna loved her big sister so much that she even shared her pain.

The memories were just getting worse, Elsa thought wryly. But if Anna had cried at a puny scrape on Elsa's elbow, then how would she feel if she saw the scores of scars that zigzagged across Elsa's back? Would she feel each and every one of them as if the pain were fresh?

Elsa cringed.

And how much worse would Anna feel if she had known it was her father, the one she adored and looked up to, that put them there? That every time she told their father one of the secret adventures they went on, Elsa was punished severely for it later?

Maybe Alana Arendelle was right. Maybe Elsa would be better off without love and feeling.

So she chose the lesser of two evils.

Anna fidgeted on her bed, texting Rapunzel while she waited for Elsa to return from their mother's study.

Rapunzel: hey so did you fix stuff with elsa? she still avoiding you?

Anna chewed her lip. Aside from Ariel, no one else knew about the nature of Anna's feelings for Elsa.

Anna: punzey

Rapunzel: yeah?

Anna: we'll be frds no matter what right?

Rapunzel: ofc silly

Anna: ok…

Rapunzel: wats wrong?

Anna: well… tbh im in love w/ elsa

Rapunzel: you… WHAT?

Anna: pls punzey im telling you becuz i trust you

Rapunzel: wow anna way to spring this on me

Anna: sry?

Rapunzel: is that why you broke up w/ kristoff?

Anna: kinda

Rapunzel: idk what to say… its kinda weird being in love with your sister

Anna: you dont need to remind me shes my sister

Rapunzel: look its just rly hard for me to understand ok… like i cant even imagine being in love w/ one of my cousins let alone a brother or sister if i had one

Anna: punzey…

Rapunzel: anna, im still your frd. i just… its rly hard to accept it, ok? i love you, and i want you to be happy, but… its just so sudden

Anna sighed. It wasn't like she hadn't expected this. She knew the feelings she had for Elsa were a social taboo, and that many people would be against it. Ariel's quick acceptance was surprising, to say the least. Her phone buzzed again.

Rapunzel: k you know what? as long as youre happy, its good enough for me. im not going to judge

Anna: thx punzey, love you

Rapunzel: does elsa know? what did she say?

Anna: i think she feels the same way? im still kinda processing it too

Rapunzel: wow… ok

At the thought of Elsa, Anna suddenly had an aching need to see her. She wondered what the heck she was doing in her own room and not Elsa's. Typing a quick goodbye to Rapunzel, she hopped to the door and down the hall, surprised to find her sister already back. "Elsa!"

Elsa's face was buried in her hands, but she immediately looked up as Anna called her name, and smiled. "Hi."

Anna frowned. This smile was wrong. It didn't reach her eyes. It was the kind of mundane, banal smile that she politely used with business partners and representatives. Anna had seen her father put on the exact same smile when he was still alive, when Arendelle manor hosted balls and parties. "Everything okay?" Anna cursed herself immediately for asking that. Of course, Elsa would say everything was okay. But some part of her was wishing that it would be different this time, that Elsa would actually tell her.

Elsa smiled again, and this time it was that perfect smile. The perfectly fabricated smile. The smile that hid everything, which at the same time meant that something was off. "Of course."

Naturally, the fake smile also meant that Elsa was not going to tell her anything. She decided to change the subject. "Um, so I told Rapunzel about us," Anna began.

She saw a shadow cross Elsa's face. Her sister narrowed her eyes. "Anna, I've been thinking." Elsa's tone was professional, practiced, even. "We shouldn't be together. It was my mistake."

Anna's heart dropped, and she stared incredulously into Elsa's unyielding blue eyes, searching for any hint that her sister was joking. "Elsa, why? I love you. You're perfect. We talked about this. I told you I don't care if it's wrong."

"But I do," Elsa replied slowly, her eyes still not betraying anything. "And I would like for us to go back to being just sisters." The phrase sounded painfully professional.

"I'd really like for you to stop running away!" Anna retorted, unable to control the hurt that Elsa's rejection wrought.

Her sister's expression seemed to soften. "Anna, believe me, it's better this way."

"How is it better, Elsa? How? Is it better for us both to hurt? It's better to shove away exactly what we need? Please, we can figure this out, together!"

"No, Anna." Elsa's voice was diplomatic, still impassive. "I was—" she seemed to be grasping for control now "—wrong. I don't—" Anna thought she saw Elsa's jaw clench "—love you. Not like that. I'm sorry."

The apology seemed so detached, so foreign. So empty. Never had Elsa apologized so emotionlessly to her before.

It took Anna a moment to register Elsa's words. Her voice shaking, she asked, "You don't love me?" It was clear which love she meant.

"No."

Again, a hollow word. But the emptiness of the word stung like a slap in the face. Suddenly Anna couldn't breathe. It was as if it were her last breath of air. If she let it out it would all be over. She felt like she was falling, tumbling, crashing, all at once. And at the same time, she was brittle, like her very core was crumbling. Like if someone so much as breathed on her, she would disintegrate into the air.

So this is what it feels like when the world ends.

It was as if she caught a glimpse of what Elsa was feeling when she was catatonic on the hospital floor only a week or so ago.

There was a pain in her chest. She couldn't tell if it came from the lack of air, or Elsa's words.

She heard her own voice speak. "No. No, you don't mean that." It was choked, strained, small. Weak. She wasn't even sure if it was hers.

It was like that dream all over again, the one where Elsa had said I don't need you anymore.

Only this time it was real.

The room was spinning. She was spinning. She didn't even notice that Elsa was no longer in front of her.

Elsa raced down the stairs and into the garage, vaguely aware that Alistair and some others had taken up step behind her.

She wasn't sure where she was going, but she knew she didn't want to be here.

It was that look again. As if the light had literally drained from Anna's eyes when Elsa uttered those words.

But this time, I did it to her.

For all the self-control that her father branded her with, he hadn't taught her how to kill her own heart and have it remain dead. This would be so much easier if he had.

She was filled with rage. At him, for tainting her with those marks that she couldn't hide. For forcing her into choosing this.

But mostly she was angry with herself. For being so weak-willed in front of Anna, for being so obvious in front of Ariel. Mistakes, mistakes, mistakes.

The anger helped mask the pain. Temporarily.

And then it all hit her. Everything hurt. Like some frigid blizzard was raging in her heart, half-freezing everything, wreaking havoc, but not enough to numb her.

Suddenly, she was so ready to just drive her car into a tree and end it. But that would hurt Anna even more.

She couldn't do that.

But she already had.

And now, she had made her very existence a pain for herself and her sister.

This was the right choice. Even this had to be better than reliving the hellish days surrounding their father's funeral when Anna had basically been lifeless.

You could recover from heartbreak.

The alternative was to be scarred forever.

For once, Elsa was grateful for the mask. The damned mask, which was like a solid metal wall between herself and Anna, had helped her sound more convincing than she thought possible.

What she wouldn't give to have a transparent heart, to be able to pour out all her worries, feelings, emotions to her sister. To just hold her and never let go. Every molecule of her being had been screaming at her to do just that. Especially when she watched the light die from Anna's eyes a second time.

But that was not possible in this life. Not when they were sisters. Not in this society. Not when they belonged to this godforsaken family.

She clenched the steering wheel so hard the leather was screeching in protest.

You're perfect, Anna had said. Ironic. It was so far from the truth.

I'm not. I'm damaged and broken, and I certainly don't deserve her. And she doesn't deserve to suffer like I did.

Only I should suffer.

She can forget me. She can get over me. She's probably confused about whether she loves me as a sister or like a lover. She'll realize she actually didn't love me like that, and we can go back to being normal sisters.

Right?