Anna knew something was wrong from the moment she stepped out of the car; the ominous gray clouds towering above the stone trusses of the manor cast an unfamiliar sense of forebode that gnawed at the pit of her gut.

She wondered what could have been causing it. The fitting had been uneventful; if she'd known she would have fit perfectly in her royal blue gown she wouldn't even have bothered show up. And she had to patiently sit through several people trying on theirs before it was even her turn. She would have much preferred staying home and continuing her attempts to coax whatever problem Elsa was hiding out into the open.

She knew Elsa didn't want to tell her. That much was obvious. It was painfully obvious in the way Elsa always avoided her gaze, as if looking into her eyes for too long would cause this supposedly terrible secret to come spilling out. It was plainly written in the way Elsa stubbornly clenched her jaw whenever Anna brought it up. As if it were screaming to get out, but Elsa was too… afraid? conflicted? to let it slip from her lips.

It was so frustrating. Like they were going in circles. And it always ended up in her succeeding in pushing Elsa further away, jaws clamping tighter around the problem.

At least the air between them had become lighter since the kidnapping incident. If there was anything good that came out of it, it was that Anna now knew that Elsa hadn't slapped her because she wanted to. And that Elsa still loved her. Admittedly, Anna still didn't know exactly what to call their relationship. Or what Elsa thought they were. They had yet to have a coherent conversation regarding that particular issue. Elsa didn't seem keen to go anywhere near it and Anna was reluctant to bring it up, lest Elsa reject her once again.

It was worrisome, to say the least. Anna still wasn't sure how much of Elsa's feelings for her were romantic and how much were platonic. If those romantic feelings were present at all. Yes, Elsa had scaled a mountain to sacrifice herself for Anna but Elsa would have done the same regardless of any inappropriate romantic attraction, would she not? At least Anna knew she herself would have done the same for Elsa, even if she weren't in love with Elsa.

She realized then that she knew nothing about Elsa at all. She didn't know anything about what Elsa had been through. Even though Elsa's favourite colour, her favourite flavour of chocolate, those things were engraved in Anna's memory, she didn't know the first thing about Elsa. What nightmares haunted Elsa at night? What would Elsa have chosen to pursue if she weren't burdened with the duty of inheritance? What did Elsa think about before falling asleep every night?

What did Elsa want?

It was still aching, that hole in her chest born from the words Elsa had expressionlessly carved into her more than a week ago.

I don't love you. Not like that.

She wasn't sure how false that was, even now. If it were false at all. Ariel seemed to be strong in her conviction that Elsa was definitely in love with her, but between the events of the gala to the chocolate-driven kiss they had shared earlier today, Anna could still not decipher exactly what it was that Elsa felt for her. At least Elsa seemed to have gotten over her aversion to Anna's touch that was present during and after the soccer game.

It was so confusing. Elsa never initiated any contact that would indicate the presence of romantic feelings—save for that one time before the gala—and even before all this, when Anna had chased her from the hospital, Elsa never directly said the words 'I love you', in any kind of romantic sense. Yes, she admitted that she had been in love with Anna for three years, but Anna considered that confession annulled; Elsa had announced shortly after that she had been mistaken, a statement which, in all honesty, still throbbed like a thorn in Anna's heart.

Maybe that was why she was feeling so nervous upon her return to Arendelle Manor. Elsa seemed to be more than tolerant of Anna's acts of affection; the lack of objection during their kiss earlier was more than sufficient evidence of that, but Anna had drawn away sooner than she wanted to because she hadn't wanted to give Elsa another chance to push her away. She wasn't sure if she could survive yet another rejection, and it was the only way to salvage the situation after she had so impulsively acted on her indignation that Elsa had stolen the last piece of chocolate with such an arrogant grin at the small victory.

Elsa had seemed to be fine with it, though; hell, Elsa had moaned into her mouth and the mere recollection of it almost drove her wild with desire again. It had taken every last shred of Anna's self-control to pull away. The excitement and delight following the kiss had been fleeting, however, almost immediately expelled by the painful expression of regret that Elsa had made in response. And for a moment, Anna saw a flicker of conflict before Elsa interrupted her thoughts with an unexpectedly teasing comment.

But Elsa had pulled her closer. Didn't that mean Elsa wanted it?

Then why did Elsa look so ashamed afterward? Why didn't Elsa kiss her back?

Ugh, Anna was so confused.

In retrospect, maybe Elsa had deliberately offered a lighthearted remark to distract herself from whatever less-than-pleasant thoughts that were plaguing her as a result of the kiss. The notion of that struck Anna with a heavy guilt; once again, she could cause nothing but extra baggage for Elsa.

A certain conclusion was eating at her now, upon reflection of all the events of the past week. What if Elsa really didn't love her in that way, but loved her too much to continue denying her? What if being in love with Elsa was just making things worse? Elsa had always been the infuriatingly responsible one, the one who ensured that whatever they did wasn't unacceptable, that whatever they did was safe. Elsa was probably still trying to do the right thing, the morally acceptable, the socially acceptable thing.

She refused to let herself dwell on that, though. Thinking too much was never something that she liked doing (that had always been Elsa's territory). There was a reason she preferred leaping before looking, the same reason she let herself run on her emotions instead of first considering the consequences.

The same reason she firmly believed that Elsa had been chosen to be the heir because she was older, and there was nothing more to it. Because if she let logic take over, if she'd analyzed it, she would come to the conclusion that their father had spent more time with Elsa, chosen Elsa as heir, because Elsa had shown herself to be more competent, even at a young age. And Anna, from the moment she was born, had been nothing but an unneeded, unwanted addition. Superfluous. Useless.

But Elsa had never looked at her like that, never treated her as if she were unwanted. Elsa had never regarded her with denouncing eyes, only ever giving her undeserved respect and protection; Elsa was the reason she could smile so brightly and feel any kind of contentedness with herself. Even if she'd spent a large portion of her childhood separated from Elsa, Elsa's presence alone, supplemented by joyful winter breaks few and far between, had been enough to assure her that at least one person in this world acknowledged her existence as something worth loving.

Had she screwed that up between them as well, now? Anna sighed as she pushed open the front doors of the manor, trying to direct her train of thought to happier places, working up a smile on her face as she thought about how beautifully charming the colour pink looked on Elsa's cheeks, heart rate quickening as she conjured the image of Elsa's adorably embarrassed expression before she had left for her gown fitting.

The same kind Elsa who was worried that she would eventually resort to using the same underhanded tactics as their mother. The notion was so appalling to Anna; there was absolutely no way in hell that Elsa would ever do something with similar intentions. To deliberately hurt. To purposefully cause someone to suffer. For wealth and power.

The same kind Elsa who so wrongfully believed that she didn't deserve Anna. Anna still had no idea what was meant by the statement, and it infuriated her every time Elsa so casually said it. Like it was a fact, and not a belief. When it was so far from the truth. Of course Elsa deserved her. Elsa deserved everything Anna could give her. That, and more. Anna couldn't even begin to comprehend why Elsa would be entertaining such a misguided perception.

But what if Elsa didn't want what Anna wanted to give her?

Anna refused to let that thought fester.

"Elsa?" Anna knocked on Elsa's door before turning the handle and peeking inside. No Elsa. Strange, Elsa usually spent all her time in her room. She did have her own study in the house, but she always preferred working inside her room. Elsa did never like stepping out of her comfort zone, figuratively or physically. She couldn't still be in the theatre, could she?

Anna went there next, but found the large room dark and empty. She searched the kitchen and the library, the apprehension in her stomach intensifying, as both places wound up Elsa-less. Once again, Anna cursed this house for being so large and empty. Never once had she been thankful that they lived so extravagantly far from the city, and the distance between one end of the house to the other was so inexplicably vast that she doubted Elsa, wherever she was, would hear her even if she shouted.

Anna managed to locate Gerda in the laundry room, and after clarifying that, no, she wasn't here to pour vinegar into the water, immediately went about interrogating the older woman on Elsa's whereabouts.

"Elsa?" Gerda replied, furrowing her grey brows in contemplation. "I think I saw her going downstairs, from the east wing." When Anna gave her a look of pure confusion, Gerda added, "Where your father's study is."

Oh. Well, that about raised as many questions as it answered. Anna hadn't been down there in a long while; the last time she was anywhere near there had been over ten years ago, before their father's death. What on earth was Elsa doing down there? Anna was pretty sure Elsa hadn't approached it ever since their father's death.

She heard a strangled cry when she approached the stairs, and the raw fear that was present in the voice—Elsa's?—spurred her to quickly descend, skipping steps, until she was at the corridor that lead to their father's study. This portion of the house was underground; no sunlight ever shone on the dark marble flooring and she had wondered more than once what could possibly have come over her father that he would choose a place like this to house his study.

"Elsa?" She called.

Something metallic reflected the dim light of the lamps lining the dull grey stone walls, and she made out the form of titanium crutches laying abandoned in front of the door to the study. Alarmed, she drew closer, seriously concerned about what the heck Elsa was doing, without her crutches, in such a place.

The sound of running water drew her to the closest washroom; as she neared, she heard another choked sound, another embodiment of fear and torment, the sheer desperation marring Elsa's beautiful voice permeating the stagnant air.

"Stop it!"

Was someone hurting Elsa? Panic coursing through her veins, Anna bolted to the source of the disturbance without a second thought. "Elsa!"

To say that she was shocked to find her sister shaking with stifled sobs on the stone-cold floor of the washroom would be an understatement. The feeling was something like simultaneously being hit in the head and in the gut with a soccer ball, leaving her disorientated and winded, and she stood there, trying to make sense of the situation while also grasping for some sort of control over her breathing and mental function.

"Elsa! Oh, my god, what the hell is going on?"

There was blood caking Elsa's fingernails, Anna noted as she got to her knees beside her sister. When she was close enough, she noticed small tears in the shape of crescent moons edged into Elsa's palms. Had Elsa clenched her fists so hard that her nails broke the skin? Her wounded leg was also twisted in an odd position beneath her, her entire body trembling. Elsa had never looked so… vulnerable before, ever. The stark contrast between her usual elegance and her current state… Anna could not put into words how unsettlingly disparate it was. Elsa should never look so frightened, so small. Afraid and Elsa didn't even belong in the same sentence.

How she looked right now… the sheer wrongness of it clawed at Anna's throat, and she fought the urge to cry as her mind conjured the only comparison that accurately illustrated the current sight of Elsa.

Like a broken angel. Fallen from heaven.

There was that awful feeling again. The same goddamn feeling she was crushed by back in the abandoned ski lodge when she was watching, screaming and helpless, as Hans kicked Elsa to the ground. As Hans tortured the person she loved the most. As she watched Elsa bleed on the floor. Except this time it was worse, because she couldn't put a name to the assailant, she couldn't do a thing to stop whatever was hurting Elsa. She was watching Elsa being torn to shreds on the inside, and she couldn't do a damn thing to help.

Did she do this to her? Did Anna do this to Elsa? It had been painfully evident that Elsa was hiding something that obviously concerned Anna. A problem. Had Anna exacerbated the situation with the kiss earlier? Did she push Elsa over the edge?

Did Elsa really not want her?

That was all she could think about as she gripped her sister's trembling shoulders. Elsa's eyes were fixated on the floor. Was she deliberately avoiding Anna's gaze? That only served to fuel the abhorrent conclusion that was forming in Anna's mind.

"Are you okay?" The answer was obvious, yet she could not do a thing to impede the witless words from spilling forth. Elsa was not okay. And if Elsa tried to insist that she was okay, there was no telling what Anna was going to d—

Elsa's reply was suffocated, as if it had to battle an army of restraint before it surfaced. "No." And the mere admission of it shocked them both. Like neither of them expected it. "I'm not okay."

Anna had been waiting for this moment forever. She had thought that for once, when Elsa finally acknowledged needing comfort, she could be Elsa's hero, her savior, just as Elsa had been for her.

A month ago she wouldn't have even blinked before immediately holding Elsa in her arms and doing whatever else she could to provide comfort. Even two weeks ago, she would definitely not have hesitated at all. But now, certain unwanted thoughts were stopping her, heavy as steel walls, cutting them apart from each other.

Did I do this to you? Are you that disgusted with me?

Elsa was hurting so much that she couldn't even hide it anymore. In the past, she would have held it in, pretended that she was fine, all for Anna's benefit. She seemed to be in so much mental anguish that she wasn't capable of doing even that now.

Is me loving you so painful for you?

Elsa always blamed herself for everything. Anna never realized that Elsa might be blaming herself for the state of their current relationship. For some unfathomable reason, Elsa always made everything out to be her own fault.

Was Anna's best option right now to leave? If she was causing all this suffering for Elsa, would it be better if she left?

This was precisely why she hated thinking.

She opened her mouth, but everything that she wanted to say, wanted to ask, wanted to tell, all of them tried to escape at once and she found herself almost choking instead. Elsa still wasn't looking at her. Just as well, because all Elsa would have seen was a bumbling fool who couldn't even form sentences around the lump in her throat.

But she couldn't leave, could she? Not with Elsa so broken right in front of her. Even though the logical part of her mind was bombarding her with self-blame, telling her that she was the cause, she couldn't bring herself to go. She just couldn't. She worked on swallowing all her doubt and pulled her still-trembling sister into an awkward embrace.

"Let me go, Anna." Elsa's voice was uneven, filled with a sense of defeat that made Anna want to—want to what? Want to ruthlessly destroy whatever or whomever was causing Elsa such distress. Except it was herself.

Anna could feel the shaky words resounding against her shoulder and only responded by tightening her hold, pushing away the small voice in her head that was telling her this was her fault, her fault.

One of Elsa's trembling hands, caught between them, was weakly shoving at Anna. "Let me go." And even though the command had no conviction to it, no force, no impetus, the weight of the feelings it elicited in response could be likened to that of a battering ram. Elsa didn't want her here. Elsa didn't want her. "Leave me alone, Anna."

Go away, Anna.

Despite that, she held on. "No." She had no idea why; it made absolutely no logical sense. If she was the cause, she should leave, but she was being propelled by a most irrational sensation. An instinct. As if Elsa would shatter into a million pieces if she were to let go now. She knew it made no sense.

But it was what her heart was telling her to do and her voice was resolute when she asserted, "No one wants to be alone." No matter how much it hurt when Elsa tried to push her away, she would endure it. Just like Elsa had endured all those years before.

Elsa shuddered as she drew in a shaky breath and shoved again, once, twice, each push echoed painfully as Anna held on, but she didn't waver in her resolve, one hand winding tighter around Elsa's shoulders and the other circling her waist. She knew Elsa's next words before the older girl even uttered them. "You don't deserve to be alone, Elsa."

Elsa was cold, so cold, Anna noticed, as she finally surrendered herself to Anna's embrace. "I don't want you to see me like this," Elsa whispered against Anna's shoulder, still quivering slightly as she inhaled again.

Three words were at the tip of Anna's tongue, and she knew that if she blurted them she would be setting herself up for rejection once again. But she didn't see any other way to convince Elsa that it was okay. To convince Elsa that it's okay to show weakness. And she still had no idea how the older girl felt about her, but if Elsa wasn't going to be clear about her feelings, mirroring her mindset was going to get them nowhere.

If Elsa didn't love her like that, so be it. So be it. As much as it would hurt, like being repeatedly drowned in water cold as ice, she would face it. She pulled back, and held Elsa's wide eyes with clear ones of her own. "It's okay, Elsa. You don't have to be strong in front of me all the time. It's not going to make me think any less of you. And you know why? Because I love you. I love all of you. I love you even when you're embarrassed, when you're angry, and when you're scared. Even when you steal the last piece of chocolate," Anna smiled tentatively, "I love the parts of you that you hate, that you hide, that you fear, the parts of you that you don't want anyone to see. I love them all. And I want to know you. I want to see you. I want to see the you that you try so hard to keep from me, that you're afraid to show, because I'll love you all the same. I've loved you all my life, Elsa, and nothing you do will ever make me stop loving you."

There were tears glistening in Elsa's eyes. What was she thinking right now? She looked so lost, her gaze was searching, as if she were trying to find herself in Anna's eyes.

Elsa opened her mouth to speak, and Anna braced herself for rejection.

She wanted to run. Some part of Elsa wanted to cover her ears and not listen. But her body wouldn't obey her.

She wanted to hear it.

She stopped resisting.

Her heart hung on Anna's every word, as if it had been fighting an endless war, and those words immediately eviscerated all the demons inside her. The warmth she found in Anna's eyes erased all the heavy battle scars she bore and flooded her with serenity, the feeling much like ice on a burn.

Anna loved her. After all that Elsa had put her through, Anna still loved her. For the first time, she let it sink in. She let it envelope her with an unfamiliar comfort and the relief of the feeling had tears pricking the back of her eyes.

This girl. Her sister. Her best friend. Her hero.

She was at a loss for words.

She had never loved Anna as much as she did right now. Her heart was fluttering against her chest, like a bird in a cage and it washed away all the terrorizing voices, her own and her father's, evaporated her self-doubt, leaving her with a euphoria so strong that she felt like she could do anything.

It was worth it, it was all worth it. The pressure, the beatings, the bullying, the blackmail. So, so worth it.

She gave a start when she saw that Anna was still waiting for her to speak, sincerity and uncertainty plain in her gaze. Elsa looked away, rubbing her tears away with the heels of her palms and searched for the right words.

I love you, too.

God, I love you so much.

You're so beautiful, inside and out.

How is it that you always know how to make me so happy?

The words were a jumble in her mind, and she was struggling to choose what to say. She was taking too long to respond; she could already see disappointment forming in Anna's eyes. Panicking at the long, unintended silence that was probably coming off as indifference, she grabbed Anna's hand and blurted whatever thought that was currently passing through her elated brain. "Thank you."

Dammit! She mentally cursed herself; that wasn't what she meant to say at all. Gratitude was one thing she was experiencing, but the portion it made up was so insignificant amongst her present jumble of emotions that she briefly decided that whatever part of her brain was dictating what to say obviously didn't deserve the oxygen it was receiving. Why couldn't she have said something more eloquent, fancier, something that more accurately reflected what she was feeling? Why was it so hard to communicate properly all of a sudden? Why was it that every time Anna was involved she would end up saying something she didn't mean or just being completely inept in clearly conveying her thoughts?

She willed herself to speak again, but Anna beat her to it, despite being slightly disillusioned by her thoughtless response. Her voice was concerned, "You should probably get up, now; the way you're sitting can't be good for your leg."

Anna was right; there was an uncomfortable jabbing in her leg that sprang to the forefront of her mind the moment she focused on it. She gripped the counter in an effort to pull herself to her feet, and Anna stood immediately to help her.

"I'll go get your crutches," Anna offered after she was up, and turned to complete said task.

Elsa watched her sister's lonely silhouette disappear into the dark hallway before twisting on the faucet and rinsing her hands of the blood on her palms and fingernails. She stared into the mirror, giving herself an impatient glare. Fix this! She just confessed to you again! Fix this! Before she thinks you don't feel the same way!

But we're sisters.

Don't give me that sister crap, Ariel's voice growled in her head. She needs you.

Now she was driving even herself insane with her indecisiveness.

She didn't deserve to be happy. She knew that. But if Anna's happiness was so inexplicably intertwined with hers, what was she to do? Anna deserved happiness. And Elsa wanted to give it to her so much.

Anna deserved to know about their father. At the same time, though, Anna didn't deserve the burdens that came with the truth about him. Ignorance was bliss. But she couldn't protect Anna forever. If they were going to be together, she would eventually find out. Anna was going to have to grow up one day. Elsa realized that shielding Anna from all the ugliness of the world wasn't the best way to protect her.

Anna returned then, titanium crutches in hand. She looked at Elsa, shifting her weight uneasily from one foot to another. "Will you…" she began hesitantly, "will you tell me why you were down here?"

God, were they at the point where Anna was reluctant to even ask questions? Well, that was obviously Elsa's fault, since her inability to answer Anna's questions of late came off as unwilling. And Anna, sweet Anna, always respected her and gave her space; Elsa knew how hard that was for Anna especially. Anna could never sit still when secrets were being kept from her.

Elsa nodded, and Anna's surprise at her agreement blasted her with even more guilt. Had she said no to similar inquiries so often that Anna didn't even hope for or consider acquiescence anymore?

She hobbled out into the hallway, her sister following close behind and turned to face the door of the study that was further down the corridor. How could she even begin to explain? "I came here to visit Father's study." She shot a glance at Anna, who was looking back at her with confusion. Worried, but confused. "But I couldn't… I couldn't find the courage to open the door." She could see that Anna was looking even more confused at this confession, a question on her lips: Anna knew that Elsa had been to this study countless times; why would Elsa be afraid to enter? "Will you…" it was Elsa's turn to hesitate, "will you come in with me?" She knew she had no right to request this, without even extrapolating her reasons or giving Anna any context to her actions whatsoever.

Anna was bewildered as ever, but nodded her assent as they neared the door. "Of course," she replied with certainty, evidently still baffled as to why Elsa was afraid to enter alone. "You'll… tell me why?" She said it hopefully, as if it were a lifelong dream about to come true.

"Yes," Elsa sighed, and took a deep breath as her hand hovered above the shiny gold handle again, threatening to tremble as she brushed the cool metal with the tips of her fingers.

Anna seemed to notice her hesitation, and it didn't take a genius to combine it with her most recent confession. A warm hand covered Elsa's, in stark contrast to the cold of the metal, tanned fingers reinforcing the pale ones wrapped around the handle.

Anna turned her head to give Elsa a reassuring smile, and together they opened the door.