Disclaimer: I do not own the story of Frozen or any of its original characters.
AN: Honestly I'm not really sure where I want to take this story so this chapter might get rewritten and it might not. This is just one angle I'm trying out, so if you love it or hate it please let me know. Thanks guys!
I drag my feet along the marble of the floor as I trudge my way back to my rooms, I have taken to calling them that since Anna rarely stays there now. Although they are technically our rooms. My vision is swirling and I clutch at the wall as I make my way to bed; I should really be going to eat something since all I have had today is bread. Regardless though, my bedroom is where I want to be. I almost walk right past it; the picture of my parents together. I like to look upon it sometimes because I find it ironic that my father chose to hang it near my room. Now that they're both dead though, I almost find it soothing. Not in the way one might expect, that I remember they are watching over me or something of the like.
No, I like the picture because it reminds me that it is all that is left of them. Just some oils on a canvas, not even really a piece of them, but only a representation. And that comforts me immensely. My father died after I had married Anna, I do not miss the man in the slightest. I think Anna does sometimes, since after he retired his crown he became much more bearable I am told. As I stare into their oil faces I find that they hired an incredibly skilled artist to construct this piece. You can see nothing of my late mother's tired insanity or of my late father's aggravating persistence. In fact, in this portrait, they look rather pleasant. But I remember the truth.
I pull myself away from their ironic visage and stumble into my door. The wood feels warm as if a fire is burning inside, this should tip me off to something strange inside since I have not been in my room all day and there should not be anything inside. Of course though it does not and I enter the room with no conception of anything being wrong.
The first thing I see are his hands, his tanned, rough, leathered hands in contrast to the soft pink flesh of her face. The fingers of his right hand which is poised out towards me, stains the hue of her face, they reach from her cheek to the base of her neck. The fingers on the left hand sit nestled into the soft curve that her waist lies in. Next I see her legs, gripping tightly to either side of his thighs. They glow in the dimly lit room a soft white light, her naked legs are one of my favorite sights normally. Her slip is still draped loosely on her body, but the lower half of it is cluttered around her hips. Next I notice their lips; intertwined within each other's soft flesh.
I stumble and catch myself on a table near the doorway. They break away from each other at the notice of me. I stand easily and compose myself; Anna shuffles into a chair away from the bed and pulls the ends of slip back to her ankles, but I can tell she wishes she could melt down through it into nothing. The man just sits on the bed shocked.
"Anna," I start, my breathing difficult, "what is the meaning of this?" I rub my fingers across my forehead since I can feel the tension driven headache climbing back into my subconscious. She rubs anxiously at her neck thinking of what her next move should be. I see the change in her eyes as she straightens her posture. She snaps at the man and motions for him to leave. He does so, taking his own sweet time doing it.
"I'll have Gerda find him a new job tomorrow, a job where we won't see him around." She says definitively. She crosses her legs as she sits, I sink down the wall to the rug on the floor. I lean my back into the door and let out a long sigh.
"Anna, what am I going to do with you?" I am feeling suffocated as I sit upon the floor; I pull open a couple buttons of my shirt since I need to breathe.
"Elsa, this is what we discussed before. Don't you want to have children?"
"Aren't you already pregnant?" I snap out at her,
She sits quietly for a moment, fidgeting around with her fingers. She looks up at me expectantly, but I am in no state to drive this conversation so I wait for her.
"Yes I am. But if Alek is going to give us many children, it seems unreasonable for me to stop sleeping with him until I want another one. We don't want to tell him that he is our resource for children."
"Anna, what we discussed was you finding a man to procure a child from, not for you to find a new husband."
"I'm still married to you."
"Are you?" My tone grows angry and I can feel a lump in my throat that tells me my anger is actually distress and exhaustion. "I'd forgotten since I haven't seen you in here for half a year."
"I was trying to be thorough." She shrinks into the chair, drawing her knees into her chest.
"Don't bullshit me Anna, don't think I don't know what's happening here. You are infatuated with that asshole and you are playing house. Happy wife and husband. He doesn't love you Anna, he loves your body and that you're queen."
"I didn't say he loved me Elsa."
"I suppose you think you love him?"
"Of course not; it's just nice, he gives me attention that I don't get from you."
This angers me, I rise from the floor and stand near the door, "Anna, don't you think that might be because most days I don't see you or even know where to find you since you don't ever tell me?" I do not wait for her to respond; my fingertips are ice and I can not stay in this room.
I shove through my door and gasp for air as I stand in the hallway. And of course to the right of my gaze is that fucking painting, with my parents just screaming their laughs at me.