Hi everyone, thanks as ever for keeping up with this story! Your feedback and favs and follows are invaluable.
This chapter covers response to Elsa's speech (which really I hope manages to tread the fine line between niceness and cheesiness. I reworked it a few times and I think it's there- but please let me know if I've missed the mark and it's too much!), features a rare moment of self-awareness from Anna, and also starts to deal with those pesky dignitaries and what on earth they've been doing.
At the bang of the doors, Elsa brought her hands to her face and collapsed against the wall.
"That was amazing, Elsa! You were amazing!"
Elsa shook her head and said nothing, hands still covering her face.
"I mean it. You were great. I honestly don't know how that could have gone better."
Elsa did not peer through her fingers to her sister until she felt the warm touch of hands on each arm.
"And it's done now. Don't worry about it." Anna hesitated; smiled. "Do you want to build a snowman?"
After a pause, Elsa slowly nodded.
They walked down the corridors in reflective quiet – for once, Anna understood that actions were louder than words. Elsa was reliving every moment of the speech in her head – unravelling, unpicking, analysing.
The gallery, lined with the paintings that had been Anna's conversational partners for years, ended in a single large window. It had a view of the castle's private garden – light could stream in around them, but no prying eyes would disturb their quietude. Anna could not think of a more perfect place to await the verdict.
She knelt on the floor. Elsa followed suit, and with a flutter of fingers, it was snowing.
Anna gathered in her arms the snow for a body, scooping and patting and rolling it together; Elsa rounded each edge with a gentle brush of her magic. Anna lay back, made a snow angel; Elsa drew a tiny circular halo for it. Anna leaned out the window and grabbed some twigs and stones; Elsa carefully arranged them into eyes on the snowman's empty face.
"We don't have any carrots," Anna sighed. "Do you think Olaf will mind if his snow-lady doesn't have a nose?"
"Snow-lady? I think one enchanted snowman is definitely more than enough for now."
They knelt, admiring their creation. Elsa absent-mindedly removed some rogue leaves that had found their way into Anna's hair when she'd leant out the window.
That's when they heard it. The chanting.
Elsa suddenly clutched her sister, terrified.
"What are they saying?"
"I don't know."
Anxious, Anna went to throw open the window once more. She leant out and strained to hear the words.
Ice started spreading beyond their little patch of snow and crackled up the walls. Elsa hugged her arms around herself.
The open window let in a little more sound – but it was still indistinct. Anna and Elsa made eye contact, mutually uneasy.
Suddenly, the door burst open. It was Kristoff.
He was breathing heavily, as if he'd been running. His eyes were wide, but his mouth was open in a grin.
"Do you hear them?"
And as if obeying an unspoken command, the chant grew louder and louder, more voices joining the unwavering mantra.
"Long live Queen Elsa! Long Live Queen Elsa!"
The ice on the walls seeped back down as Anna ran to her sister, pulled her to her feet and seized her in the tightest hug. They stood in each other's arms, swaying on the spot for a second. Arm in arm, they left the room and walked back towards the balcony.
Kristoff smiled. He took a carrot from his pocket and walked over to give the snowman a nose.
From the balcony the sisters smiled and waved and thanked the still-cheering people. Anna couldn't help but bounce up and down, crying her thanks over and over again; Elsa was more contained, fighting down tears of relief but holding her sister tight, and with the posture and poise Anna had never mastered thanked the people sincerely. She urged them to come to the castle if they had suffered any loss of property or livelihood – she would hear their grievances and ensure all were fairly compensated.
As they left, Anna still waving, Elsa suggested they take stock in a nearby parlour room.
"I just can't believe, I mean, I hoped and dreamed, but I never planned, or –"
Anna fell onto the sofa, giddy with relief. She was speaking in a near-continuous stream of sounds and words, the mind-to-mouth filter utterly gone. In this snatched ten minutes of happiness, so new and strange but so familiar, Elsa laughed more than she had ever thought possible.
Eventually, however, the yoke of reality settled back upon her.
"Anna, I have a lot to sort out."
"Like what?"
Elsa sighed, lists beginning to form and flick through her mind. "I need to draw up commissions for the repairs to Arendelle – the west wing was almost completely destroyed by the storm, as was a large part of the dungeon. I haven't heard word of any damage to the town, but as I said to the people, I need to be sure of this. I know most of the dignitaries who came to the coronation left as soon as the ice melted, but Kai informed me some remained – for answers I suppose. They will have been at the address today, but I must see them personally. I know the French Ambassador, for one, remained behind. And I must write letters to those who have already left, to explain and apologise."
Anna hadn't even thought of the dignitaries since the day of the Coronation. All had been offered accommodation at the castle following the ball, of course, but when she had shown Kristoff to his room last night, she'd seen no-one. Could she have missed them in the vast halls of the castle?
"Are there any – still here…?"
"Oh, no. Very few remain. Kai provided me with a list – it seems that though many sheltered in the castle during the storm, most left as soon as the fjord thawed. And who can blame them? Those who have remained opted to stay in the sleeping quarters on their ships. It would take a very trusting Ambassador to stay under the same roof as a sorcerer, after all."
Anna was dismayed. "I hadn't even thought about it. We should have invited them to dinner."
Elsa shook her head. "It would have been foolish to see anyone before the address. Everything needed to be made clear to everyone at the same time – else, we could have been accused of conspiracy, covert alliances…" Elsa shook her head. "It would have been a nightmare."
"Wow. You know your stuff so well, Elsa." It was Anna's turn to shake her head. The weight of Elsa's responsibilities truly struck her. "Thank God I'm the youngest! Can you imagine me trying to organise all of this?"
Elsa smiled a little. "You would have done fine, Anna. You had the same education as me."
This was true, but Anna was stunned when she realised how little she must have… taken in. Thought about things. It just hadn't seemed important at the time. She remembered her lessons on history, literature, and music well enough – but things like arithmetic and rhetoric and ruling had completely failed to hold her attention.
"I don't need to know about inflation of corn prices," She remembered complaining. "Elsa is going to be queen!"
Elsa was the heir. Anna had always been the spare – an understudy, of sorts. She felt suddenly very guilty for playing this part so poorly – but was also overcome with a surge of affection for her parents for not giving up hope Elsa would one day rule. They must have never doubted that, to have maintained her political education so diligently.
Anna was brought back to the present by Elsa's voice.
"…But we must send ambassadors of our own, bearing the letters of apology to countries whose dignitaries who have left – else we risk all our diplomatic relationships. And besides that, there is Hans to deal with. And Kristoff's sled."
"Well." said Anna, very, very humbled. "That's certainly a lot of things. Can I – help with anything at all? I can deal with the sled."
Elsa smiled, but shook her head. "You don't have to, Anna. Go enjoy the sun. I'll see you for dinner."
"If I get bored of the sun, can I come back and see you? I'll provide moral support."
Elsa smiled; nodded. "Of course you can."
With a kiss to her sister's forehead, Anna left the room.
Without really thinking, she found herself wandering towards the stables.
She hadn't seen Kristoff since they'd returned to the balcony. She'd become so caught up in everything, that she'd sort of forgot to check where he was going. They'd spent so much time together over the past few days, it felt strange to find him… well, not constantly beside her.
She rounded the corner of the stables and stopped.
Neither Kristoff nor Sven was there.
She wheeled around in mild panic.
"Jakob? Jakob?"
"My lady?" The shiny bald head of the stablemaster poked itself round the side of a stall. Jakob could always be found around the stables, either shouting at stablehands, grooming the horses or checking supplies and stock in his office. Today – thankfully – was no exception. "Is everything all right, my lady?"
"Jakob, there was a reindeer, here," She waved a hand at the stall she'd already come to think of as Sven's. "Do you know where he's gone?"
"Yes, my lady, the young man came by about twenty minutes ago to collect him."
"Collect him?"
"Yes, my lady."
"Oh. Ok, thank you, Jakob."
Dejected, she walked back to the castle. The tools they'd bought were still there – and besides, he wouldn't leave without saying goodbye. He didn't even have his sled yet. He'd probably just… gone for a walk or something.
Anna suddenly felt very annoyed at herself.
He's not a pet. It was wrong – totally wrong – to assume Kristoff would just be hanging around, waiting for her. He had his own life.
His own life. She hadn't really thought about that. The last few days had been so emotional and all-consuming that there hadn't been much time for the practicalities. She remembered how she hadn't even known where Kristoff lived, or how he took his tea. She didn't even know his last name.
What's his favourite food? Best friend's name? Eye colour? Foot size?
Brown. Kristoff's eyes were brown. Obviously.
Anna shook her head and made a noise of disparagement.
She knew she had a habit of becoming familiar – perhaps too familiar – with people very quickly. Hans was proof of that. And though she might feel she knew Kristoff, the truth was that she was still learning new things about him. He was often unexpected, and confusing, and – it was arrogant of her to assume he would just hang around, being a support through all of her and Elsa's drama.
Don't you ever learn? Anna thought, irritably. God, everything isn't a fairytale.
Hans had made it abundantly clear to her that you couldn't always label things. People didn't always fit into neat categories – Elsa, for example. As much as she wanted to tell herself that everything was perfect now, that they were best friends – things were more complicated than that.
And Kristoff – jeez, Kristoff certainly didn't fit under a label.
Anna found herself in the library. A part of her wanted to go running back to Elsa – but she knew Elsa was busy. And – as she'd just realised – things were complicated.
She ran her fingers along the spines of satires, poetry, classics and histories – and eventually chose one called Frankenstein. It looked interesting, and it was not a romance – there were hardly any romantic works in this library she hadn't read, and they were the last thing she wanted to revisit right now. She wandered to the garden outside the portrait gallery and sat in the sun for a while, losing herself in a different world.