Heaving and spent from dashing up the stairs, Elsa slumps against Anna's door. Despite the chill air hanging in the atmosphere, her cheeks are stained with dried tears and beads of perspiration line her forehead. What should I say? She thinks, and the memory of her sister's yelling makes a reappearance in her mind for the thousandth time tonight. She drags her gloved fingers along the wood, and stares at the ceiling.
Ironic, she thinks, and scoffs at the door, it's always been Anna doing this instead of me. Fresh tears blossom from her eyes into snowflakes as she imagines her sister staring at the same kind of closed door before her face, hoping and wishing her sister could come out from the other side and put an end to the isolation tearing through her heart. I should've known, she thinks, what it was like to be shut out like this. Perhaps she would've opened up a little more. But this time, she fears it's too late – and it's going to take more than an act of self-sacrifice to mend the distance her little discovery has torn between them.
Her knuckles curl against the wood, but she hesitates. With the ice beneath her feet thawing to a puddle, Elsa swallows the lump in her throat and nudges the door open. Darkness greets her, and the breath catches in her throat when she realizes she was too late – Anna's gone, probably for good. There'd be no stopping her too, she could be wandering the woods looking for Kristoff, like how she hiked all the way up the North Mountain. But this time, Anna's the one running away from her. But for what? The confusion gnaws away at Elsa's mind and an icy fog forms on her breath.
A movement in the shadow catches her eyes, and her heart leaps as she notices Anna's silhouette by the dresser mirror. The moonlight filtering through her curtains provides scant illumination in the mess of her room, and she lights a lamp by the door.
Anna's figure comes into view as the dimness of the lamp fills the room with an orange glow. She squints at her body, hunched over the dresser with something in her shaking hand. It takes another moment of staring before she makes it out to be a tube of lipstick, held teetering on the edge of her lips. Her palace gown lies discarded in a heap by the wardrobe, and she has donned a brown Peasant's dress with a handkerchief tied around her hair.
"Anna?"
"Go away, Elsa," Anna's voice slices through the thinness of the air, and sticks itself into Elsa's heart like a blade. She clutches onto the door's knob for support; frost seeps through her gloves and crackles along the wood. Tears brim from her eyes and threaten to spill.
"Look, Anna, I'm-"
"Hurts doesn't it?" Anna says, looking at the floor, "to have someone you love so much tell you to go away."
Elsa tries to ignore the grating pain clenching at her chest and takes an apprehensive step towards her sister.
"Look, I need you to tell me what you were doing last night," Elsa asks.
"I was looking for you," Anna answers, "I just never thought I'd really find you."
"Christ, could you stop being so cryptic?" Elsa mutters, taking a step back as Anna whirls around. Her sister's eyes glisten in the dim glow filling the space between them, and she extends a hand to grasp her sister's arm.
"I had to do it that way," Anna says, dropping her voice to a whisper, "to protect you."
"What?" Elsa asks, snapping her eyes to her sister's hand wrapped around her elbow, "Anna you're shaking."
Anna releases her grip and brushes her knuckles along Elsa's tear-stained cheeks.
"I'm s-sorry," Anna stutters, cupping Elsa's face in her quivering hands, "H-have you e-ever looked in the mirror and realized how breath-taking you are?"
"Yes, I mean, no. I mean, um," Elsa takes her sister's hands and squeezes them in an attempt to get the trembling out, "Anna, you're beautiful too. But as I said earlier, you need to tell me-"
"They hang your portraits everywhere in the castle," Anna continues, avoiding her sister's gaze, "do you have any idea how much that kills me?"
Elsa sighs and pulls her sister's head close to her chest, "Look, I'm sorry if I haven't been around lately. It's tough, but I love you and I-"
"Do you really?" she whispers, choking back a sob, "or are you saying that because it's what older sisters are supposed to say to their younger sisters?"
"Of course I-"
"I need to go," Anna scowls, pulling herself out of her sister's arms and staring Elsa straight in the eyes, "something bad will happen if I stay here for another second."
Elsa jerks Anna's shoulders to face her as she tries to leave.
"No! Please, Anna – you don't have to do this! Whatever that's bothering you, we can fix this!"
"You can't! Let go of me!" Anna scowls, and shoves her sister hard in the shoulder.
Elsa stumbles backwards and loses her balance. Her fingers flail wildly as she falls, grabbing at the fabric hanging in the darkness. A chair topples over Elsa as she hits the floor with a thump, and the velvet curtain pools around her body.
"Oh my god, no!" Anna shrieks, and tries to snatch the velvet drapes from Elsa's fingers in a vain attempt to cover up the painting. Elsa tightens a vice-grip on the cloth; her eyes and lips widen at the unfinished portrait of herself on the easel.
"Anna," Elsa gasps, clutching the fabric to herself, "I don't remember this being here yesterday."
"Don't, please," Anna begs, trying to shield her sister's eyes from the painting.
Elsa shakes her sister's hands away and edges herself away from the wall on her hands as she takes in the sight of her naked self painted on the canvas. To say it was an artistic nude would've been generous; Anna had painted her body reclined along an ornate couch in the library, and her face was portrayed in what could've only been described as a look of arousal. There was generous usage of pink hues along her face and neck, and the beads of perspiration running down her forehead were so detailed one could've sworn they were actual drops of sweat. Her lips were glossy, her peaks stood at attention, her hips were arched and her toes curled against the couch's leather. Gone were the flowing tresses of yesterday's painting, replaced by a matted mess of golden hair – a far cry from the usual neat braid surrounding her crown.
"I don't-" Elsa gasps, her cheeks turning red and the words sputtering from her lips, "this, me. Naked. You drew me. This afternoon. Last night. Oh my god, Anna."
Elsa tears her gaze from the painting and gasps at the sight of her sister's face barely an inch away from her. Anna pushes her down into the carpet and brings her knees along Elsa's sides.
"It's too late, I guess now you know," Anna whispers, trailing her fingers along her face, "how much I want you."
Elsa's eyes flit back and forth between the dim glow of the painting and the fire sparkling in her sister's eyes. In her mind, everything starts falling into place – the trembling touch of her sister's hands the first time they went ice-skating, why Anna shied away every time her sister came up close to her, why she only chose blonde prostitutes. If Elsa was afraid of freezing her heart with ice, Anna feared burning her sister with the searing flames of her desire.
"You want me?" Elsa gasps and a burst of frost appears on Anna's lips, "How long-"
"Ever since I could feel," Anna growls, yanking Elsa's hands against her chest, "it was always you."
Anna's warm breaths mingle with the frosty chill of her own breathing. She looks down, and her eyes widen at the ferocious pounding of Anna's heart against her hand. Her sister's fingers curl beneath her chin, and she tips it up to meet hers. Electricity buzzes through her body as Anna's lips graze her chin, and her skin prickles from the touch. She searches her sister's eyes for an explanation, an answer, anything, but the fire is gone.
"I can't," Anna sighs, shaking her head and pulling her hand away from her sister, "I can't live like this around you anymore."
She jumps to her feet, and flees the room, leaving Elsa lying on the floor in a puddle of thawed ice with her chest heaving, and her stare locked on the nude portrait of herself. The icy fabric of her gown had melted away and left her underclothes soaking wet; it takes several tries for her to conjure another dress.
Elsa's heart falters at the sight of the door left ajar, and she leaps after her sister's damp footsteps lining the hallway.
The soldier on guard duty shudders from the cold, and he pulls on a woolen overcoat right before the Queen appears in view with a gust of frozen wind howling behind her. The sight of Elsa running towards the guard post flanked by icicles sprouting from her feet proves too much for the soldier, and he stumbles backwards.
"Please, oh god, tell me you saw Anna pass through here," Elsa pleads.
"Your majesty," he sputters, "she…she did, barely a moment-"
"Where is she?" Elsa yells, and he barely avoids the icicles slicing past his uniform.
"She took a Palace horse up the northward road," he says, pointing towards the forest.
"The forest? She's riding to the forest?"
"Yes, your majesty, would you prefer the royal carriage or your horse?" he replies. But Elsa has already taken off beyond the palace courtyards.
In her desperation, Elsa throws caution to the wind and summons a snow creature. She visualizes a large bird, but with her mind rife with terror over the possibility of losing Anna, a winged snow-dragon covered in icy-spikes sprouts from the ground instead and sends her tumbling back in horror. However, the beast obeys her mental commands to carry her, and roars as it leaps into the chill spring air.
"Come on, Anna," she mutters to herself, searching the darkness beneath her, "where are you?"
The cold never bothered her, but a chill surges through her spine as she hears a scream echoing from the forest.