January, 1917
For most of the week, the roof and gardens of the Arendelle palace were buried in deep winter snow. When the sisters woke up one cold and freezing morning, they were delighted to discover frozen icicles hanging like ornaments on a Christmas tree along the window frame outside. While Elsa entered the balcony to snap a photo of Rapunzel and Anna waving from the icicle-embedded window, Gerda seemed to keep silent a lot and took a lot of convincing to have her own picture taken. Rapunzel thought she looked rather sad behind the black and white print.
In fact, everyone seemed to act far from the usual. The Queen was now fidgety and nervous since the King sailed back to resume work in the war, Elsa went in and out of their father's study, as if she was hoping in desperation for any news, while Anna would leap onto the nearest living being and ask to be taken to the hospital - she wanted so badly to visit 'the soldier in Ward 608.' Even the staff and servants in the palace were pushing themselves beyond the limits and working harder than ever, despite Queen Rosemary's objection and insistence that they have a break and rest 'occasionally.'
The only person who was acting normal was Rapunzel. Dazed and utterly confused by the world that was gradually changing around her, she raced along the corridor to speak to her closest sister and confidant. The minute she opened the door, however, she wished she hadn't. Gerda had still not been relieved of her melancholy state - since her birthday had come and gone, she hadn't been the same witty and vivacious child Rapunzel and her other sisters were used to seeing. Gerda kept to her room all the time now, and would only come out for lessons and meals. Perhaps it was simply part of her becoming a teenager, but Rapunzel had the strange feeling that it was much more than that.
"Are you all right, Gerda?" asked Rapunzel tentatively as she entered the room. She sat on the bed, where Gerda lay on her back, looking wistful in her long-sleeved sky blue dress patterned with diamond snowflakes. "What's wrong? Why are you so sad?"
Gerda didn't answer. She rolled onto her side, facing the window with its curtains wide open. Outside by the black metal gates, the Queen and an elated Anna were being escorted by a broad shouldered guard into a green and gold carriage, pulled by four strong legged horses, their coat and mane as white as the snow beneath their hooves. Even though the age of traditional travel had long since gone by (everyone used motor cars now) the Arendelle royal family decided that a carriage was still useful in the modern century. Gerda's eyes were fixed firmly on Anna, dressed in a fur trimmed cream coat and cap, given to her by the King from his travels in Russia.
"I'm worried about Anna," Gerda admitted, her face in her pillow, and unknowingly answering the question that had been nipping on Rapunzel's lips for ages now.
"What about Anna?"
"It's just that..." Gerda trailed off for a moment, then began again. "I'm afraid. Afraid of what might happen. Anna seems to be growing up a lot lately. Before we know it she'll be married and move into a new home and leave us forever.
"Part of me couldn't care less. It happens all the time, right? But then there's this piece of my heart, the stubborn and childish one, that won't let go. I find myself clinging onto Anna in my mind, and realising I don't want her to leave. You'd understand if you knew what I was talking about.
"I love you and Elsa dearly, but Anna has been my only real playmate for years. We used to ride bikes together, play checkers, once we even started our own garden. Me and Anna, we did everything together. And now that she's getting older - who's the closest person in age I can happily engage with now? I can't befriend any of the girls from the town, because I'm a princess. No one ever allows a girl of royal birth to simply step out the gates and have plain, everyday fun with the other girls!
"Everyone pays a price for having a life, even royalty - for us, it's freedom, privacy, and a chance at a solid relationship with people deemed outside our league. And I won't have that! If being a princess means no free choices or love in life, then I am no princess at heart. That's why my dream is to marry a respectable soldier and to live quietly in the idyllic countryside with children; but I know that given what I am in everyone's eyes, that will never happen."
Rapunzel stroked Gerda's hair with sympathy as a single tear rolled down the girl's cheek. "Do you ever wish that Father was not a King or a ruler of Arendelle, but just Father?"
"Of course. Poor Father always has to deal with the ministers and all the boring work put in front of him as if he were a school boy. Ridiculous, if you ask me. Father makes the best King in the world, but I like him best as someone who believes in the rich importance of family."
"I do, too," Rapunzel agreed, a smile perking up across her cheeks. "But I thought we were talking about Anna, not the sorrows and burdens of royal life."
Gerda replied with a 'pfft' without hesitation. "I won't worry about her yet. There's other things I have to worry about more - like the war and our fate in the near future. Besides, I've heard of people who've grown older in the past couple of years, and still manage to maintain their youth and innocence from childhood. I just pray to God that Anna will be one of them."
-o0o-
"Now, stay here, Anna, and don't wander anywhere besides this ward," Rosemary warned her daughter as Anna pretended to hang onto every word, even though she rolled eyes at being treated half her age. "While I'm here, it shall be my duty to visit the other injured soldiers. And I might as well do something about the other wards - they're..."
"Absolutely appalling," Anna offered.
"Precisely. Meet me at the counter at ten thirty," and the Queen walked off, the click-clack of her heels echoing along the hallway. Checking that her hair was acceptable and her dress in a satisfactory state, Anna pushed the door to Ward 608.
"Bienvenue, chère princesse Anna," Hans cried, his arms spreading out extensively.
"Um...I can't speak French," Anna told him. I should've paid more attention in my lessons, she thought, cringing.
"Non?"
Anna shook her head. Hans laid himself back and pondered, devoting his entire face to concentration.
Now tucked up in bed, instead of resting in the beige chair like the way Anna was used to, Hans seemed quite the lark that day. "No matter," he replied with a grin. "I welcome you with warm arms."
"I see your leg's still broken," Anna noted, pointing at his stiffened cast. Hans nodded gravely. "How long until it comes off?"
"The doctor believes I'll be up and running in seven to eight weeks time," he answered, stroking the lump Anna presumed (or at least, hoped) was his knee.
"That's terrible. Which army are you from?" asked Anna, hanging her removed coat and cap onto a rack, and settling herself at the foot of the bed.
"I...can't remember," Hans replied honestly. To Anna, his voice sounded like a song; woe and confusion were two notes strung together. "It's the reason I'm here."
Anna's mouth fell open in shock. Put aside a dislocated leg - this man had a case of amnesia! Surely there could be no injury worse than that; the poor thing probably lost all the treasures of memory - family, friends, home...he couldn't even remember his own soldier regiment. Anna bit her lip. If he'd forgotten which country he was fighting for, this would prove difficult on their friendship; now she wasn't exactly sure if he was with her father or the enemy.
But, Anna thought hopefully, there's no harm in making friends with him, right? After all, if he's an amnesiac, it would make more sense if he was, until his memory returns, neutral to the war. And I'm sure Father meant for this to be a hospital serving our allies, not the armies against us.
"I'm sorry," she said gently, patting his arm. No harm done, Anna silently encouraged to herself. Hans returned the favour by slipping his hand into hers; strangely enough, it didn't feel rough and calloused like most other soldiers' hands, but soft as baby's skin - and warm, might she add. Without warning, Hans pulled it away.
"What's wrong? Did I do something?" asked Anna, disappointment creeping up into her body.
"Your Highness," Hans gasped in apology, bowing his head in shame. "I do not have the authority to even lift a finger on you. I confess I'd forgotten who you were for a brief moment, princess. I am sorry."
"Oh no, don't be," Anna replied quickly, flushing in embarrassment. "And I don't want to be referred to by any titles or formalities. Just call me Anna!"
"Are you sure?" Hans asked in worry.
"It's not against the law to address a princess by their Christian name-"
"Which is a sign of disrespect in itself," interrupted Hans.
"Not if you're a friend, it isn't!"
"Well, alright...Anna," he said, though his voice still sounded uncertain. It became light and chirpy again once he'd offered Anna to a few games of checkers. As usual, she beat him, and being a good sport, Hans was happy to praise her clever win. They moved on to another round shortly afterwards.
"Encore!" Hans announced, over and over again as Anna conquered the checker board for what seemed the hundredth time. Anna grinned. She was a master at checkers - not unlike Elsa, who was just as brilliant. Gerda and Rapunzel were terrible at games involving strategy, so they'd often drop out early during rounds and drift off to paint outside.
"Hans," Anna asked hesitatingly, "your memory...how damaged is your brain?" She flinched a little, hoping she wasn't pressing too hard on such a sensitive subject. Hans didn't seem too afflicted - on the contrary, he answered with a smile, lined like lace with sadness, and some simple words;
"When I first came here, the doctors asked me who I was and where I came from. I couldn't remember much... except that I was a soldier in the war between Arendelle and the Southern Isles, just like everyone else in this ward." He gestured around in a graceful, mysterious manner. "Oh, and that my name was Hans."
"That's all?"
"I have no other."
That's awful, Anna wanted to say, but her throat was stuffed up like a jar of cotton, so all she could do was choke slightly in sympathy.
"But it's alright," continued Hans, and he sounded surprisingly calm. "The world will only keep turning. I've got you, at least." His face brightened so much, full of affection that matched a sibling's, that Anna felt guilty without knowing why.
To her relief, the Queen stalked over in her heels to the doorway, calling, "Anna, it's been two hours. Be a good girl and come over here this instant." Her commanding voice made all heads turn, and chances were that the men could bow at her feet if they weren't painfully bound to their beds. Among the curious faces of the soldiers as Anna followed her mother, Hans's eyes still looked desperately after her, almost pleading even, as if two hours with a friend wasn't enough in his standards.
-o0o-
Early February, 1917
A bright flash momentarily stunned Elsa. She blinked. A man with sleek black hair and a curled moustache kneeled before her, but not in the usual way all royal princesses were used to - he was busy adjusting the slides on a brick-sized camera settled comfortably on a tripod with long stick legs. Meanwhile, Elsa was standing against the wall in the living room, her face powdered to look like flour and dressed in her mother's periwinkle blue ceremony gown, sheets of heavy silk pouring like a waterfall down from her sash.
"Fantastique," the photographer exclaimed, as he took another photo. "You are quite the delicate beauty, Mademoiselle. Just lift up your chin a little higher and purse your lips." Elsa did as she was told, and once again nearly lost her eyesight as he fiddled with the buttons.
"How is the photography, dear Pierre?" the Queen asked, her voice floating down the stairs as she entered the room. She smiled at her daughter, who no longer looked the little girl she once knew.
"She is lovely, Your Majesty," Pierre answered enthusiastically. "Sensible, darling, and, in other words, a true princess. I dare say Her Highness has heard this a trifle too many times." The Queen laughed and nodded. "I will wrap up now. The photographs should arrive in a few weeks when they've printed. My princess, I thank you for your unfaltering patience."
"Oui, monsieur. Ce fut un plaisir," replied Elsa, speaking in perfect French. Pierre smiled hearing the familiar language from his native country.
"I see you've been practising well. Well, au revoir, princess. Wishing you all the best." The photographer folded up his tripod and camera, packed it away in his suitcase, and left whistling a bouncy tune. The Queen turned to Elsa.
"I'll fetch the maids, dear," she told her. "You should take a bath after you've undressed from the gown. It looks far too heavy to carry for the rest of the day." With an obedient nod, Elsa followed her mother out the door.
Afterwards, Elsa headed straight for her father's study. The room was just as cold and empty as last time she went in, which wasn't saying much - without Father sitting at his desk, writing letters and checking reports, the warmth had long extinguished like a candle flame and been replaced with a piercing chill that made Elsa shudder in spite of herself.
No matter how much she made the seat comfortable, Elsa couldn't rest properly in the cushioned chair her father would normally use, and tried seeking inner comfort by stroking the thin, jagged lines of the cedar table that was no longer crowded with hundreds of sorted papers. Oh Father, she whispered to herself, You don't know how much it pains me for you to be out at war and not with us.
"Elsa?" Jumping in fright, Elsa spun around, almost expecting the King to appear at the doorway, rushing over to hug her to bits and announce that the war was over and everyone could go home. Instead of a black uniform with medals, however, a thick woolly emerald dress was sighted, lined with intricate braids tied with matching ribbons. Anna continued to peer curiously at her eldest sister, an irrevocable question drawn on her freckled face.
"Oh - I...I...," stuttered Elsa, who had been caught off guard. "I...I was just coming here to see Father's study. No one's really been looking after it since Father went to war." The word 'war' somehow wedged between her tonsils and got stuck, and took a great deal to push it out. "So I've been visiting every day for him."
"You don't have to feel bad. I miss him too," said Anna reassuringly, and placed a gentle hand on her shoulder. "Besides, it won't be long before the war ends, and Father will be back, and we shall run into his arms and weep in joy."
"Before the war ends," Elsa scoffed, pushing the chair back with a sharp jerk. "It's been three months now since the Southern Isles declared war - it's still going, and even managed to weave its way through Christmas and into the new year. I want the war to stop, Anna," she said, glancing at her with a look of protest, "but I don't need anyone to tell me that the war will end. I want to know when. When will all this be over? When will the Southern Isles get over their stupid grudge for their supposedly missing prince? When will Father come home?"
Anna's arms wrapped around Elsa like a leather belt. "We may not know much, Elsa. I may not know much. Look at me - I barely know anything about the war, other than when we're in geography lessons and the tutor informs us where the Arendelle army is travelling next, or when the daily newspaper is being read at morning tea. All we can ever do is hope for the best. I know that doesn't settle matters," she added, seeing Elsa's skeptical look, "but truly, we cannot do anything else. How about we pretend? Pretend that there is no war and everyone's at peace. Pretending isn't harmful, depending on how you do it. Believing it - that's the dangerous part of pretence. So if I were you, I wouldn't go too far."
Elsa smiled weakly and let her sister kiss her, though she couldn't help but remain even after Anna had vanished from sight. Could pretending really solve all her problems? Whatever comes, though, which ever way the war turned, she'd be ready. And so, she hoped, would her father.