The Head That Wears the Crown

Chapter Two

Breakfast

The sun slowly streamed across the room, its golden beams moving closer and closer to the bed with each passing moment. Finally, the bright rays could no longer be contained and they let forth their luminescence upon the bed.

Elsa groaned, covering her eyes with her pillow. "Just five more minutes," she mumbled, rolling over onto her stomach. The sunlight responded by streaming even more brightly into her eyes, causing the queen to moan in frustration.

Now awake, Elsa opened her eyes and looked about the room. The bedroom looked exactly as it had before the events of the past few days took place. Her furnishings were still in the same place, as were her other belongings. Yet, something about the room felt . . . different.

You're no longer a prisoner in here, she thought. Everyone knows about you now. You don't have to hide anymore. The thought thrilled her and terrified her at the same time. How does a snow queen rule a kingdom, anyway? We don't exactly have any traditions to fall back on.

Elsa then noticed that Anna wasn't there, and she was surprised to realize she felt a twinge of disappointment over that fact. Shrugging it off, Elsa pulled on her dressing gown and set forth to find her sister.

It didn't take long to find her. Elsa had suspected Anna might be in the kitchen; she had loved to watch their mother cook when they were children. Their mother had taken pride in the fact that, although she was the queen, she still took the time to personally cook most of the family's meals. When Elsa had asked her why she didn't just have the servants cook for her, her mother had smiled and replied, "When God gives us a talent, He expects us to use it to serve our neighbors. To not make good use of what He gives us is a grave sin."

Anna was a flurry of activity, furiously moving about the kitchen as she prepared various dishes. Elsa stood in the doorway, watching her sister cook. The deliberate movements, the careful measuring, the precise way she sliced the fruit, all showed her passion for her craft. So absorbed was Elsa in watching Anna that she forgot to announce her presence. Consequently, when she said "It smells wonderful," Anna nearly leaped out of her skin in surprise.

"Elsa! Whoa! Way to sneak up on me!" Anna said.

"Sorry," Elsa smiled. "I was just so . . . impressed by how great you've been doing. Where did you learn to cook like that?"

"Mother taught me most of it," Anna said. "I needed something to pass the time when we were locked up in the palace as kids, and cooking is just something that comes naturally to me, I guess."

"I can't wait to try some," Elsa said. "We'll see how good of a cook you really are."

Anna's smile faded slightly. "You should already know."

Elsa was confused. "What do you mean?"

"Well, um, I guess no one ever told you," Anna said. "After Mother died, I . . . I started cooking all of your meals."

"You did?"

"Yeah. I guess I . . . I guess I just wanted to find a way to let you know that I still cared about you, even though you wouldn't see me. And I thought . . . I thought that if I cooked for you, you might realize that I love you, and you would come out and see me again."

Elsa felt the guilt wash over her. "Oh, Anna, I . . . I didn't know. I'm sorry . . ."

"No, it's all right," Anna said. "You obviously had your reasons for locking yourself away. I just . . . I just wish . . ."

"What?"

Anna took a deep breath. "I just wish you had trusted me! There, I said it!" Anna saw that Elsa was trying to cut in and continued talking. "I know what you're going to say. You were just trying to keep me safe. You thought it was better this way. And I get it, I really do, it's just that . . ." Anna swallowed. "It's just that I didn't know why! I just wish that you, or Father, or Mother, would have trusted me enough to . . . OW!"

Anna had been trying to flip the pancakes she was cooking—they smelled delicious, Elsa noted—but she had been distracted, her hand had crept too close to the range, and she had burned herself. Annoyed, she stuck her injured finger in her mouth, trying to soothe the sharp sting.

Elsa crossed from the doorway to the range in three steps. "Here, Anna, let me see."

"It's fine," Anna said. "Just a little burn. Nothing I haven't done before. But, ouch!"

Anna gave Elsa her hand—her sister clearly wasn't taking "no" for an answer—and watched as Elsa examined the injury. "It's nothing, Elsa," Anna said. "It's just one of the risks you take when you cook." Anna was confused; Elsa was still staring at her hand, studying it, analyzing it. "Elsa, what are you doing?"

Elsa blinked and shook her head, waking from her thoughts. "Oh, nothing, I was just . . . I was . . . well, I just wanted to make sure you were all right."

"Of course I'm all right. It's just a little burn." Wait a minute, Anna thought. "Elsa, you've . . . you've never been burned before, have you?"

"Well, I . . . I mean, I've seen it before, but, um, I . . . I . . ."

"Elsa," Anna asked. "Can you be burned?"

Elsa's face turned red, her defenses back up. "What are you saying? That there's something wrong with me if I can't be? Not that I can't, because I can! But if I couldn't, I don't see how that's a problem!"

"Elsa, I'm not saying anything! I was just asking because it looked like you had never seen a burn before."

Elsa calmed herself, taking deep breaths to relax her tense muscles. "I'm sorry, Anna. I didn't mean to get so defensive. It's just . . . I'm not used to letting people in, and it's going to take some time for me to adjust to the idea. I hope you'll be patient with me. Because I'm trying, Anna, I really am."

Anna smiled. "It's okay," she said. "I'm just glad we're able to spend this time together. Because just a few days ago, this never would have happened."

"No, it wouldn't have," Elsa agreed. She sniffed. Something smelled . . . unusual. "Anna, is something burning?"

"Ohmygosh!" Anna shrieked. "The croissants!"

Panicked, Anna rushed to the oven, Elsa following behind her. The princess opened the oven and pulled out a tray of slightly-blackened rolls. "Oops."

"They're just a little overdone, that's all," Elsa said. "I'm sure they'll taste just fine."

"Yeah, but . . . but . . . oh, this is going to sound so stupid!" Anna kicked the oven in frustration.

"What's the matter?" Elsa asked, draping an arm over Anna's shoulder.

"It's nothing, it's just that . . . I wanted your first breakfast back home to be special!" Anna said. "You've been gone for days. I have no idea if you've even had a decent meal. And I . . . I wanted to impress you, I guess. To show you what I can do, how I can help around here."

"Anna," Elsa said. "You've already shown me what you can do. I don't know what I would do around here without you. Don't start thinking you're not important, because you are!" More than you know, Elsa thought.

Anna was still upset, Elsa could tell. Thinking quickly, Elsa said, "Hey, I think you owe me some pancakes. Aren't they about ready?"

"Of course!" Anna said. "Coming right up!"

As she went to return to the range, Anna's shoe caught on a loose floorboard. She lost her balance and went careening head-first toward the oven, the oven she had forgotten to close.

"Anna!" Elsa cried. Without thinking, she threw herself in front of her sister. Anna landed on top of Elsa, knocking the queen backwards. Involuntarily, Elsa stretched her arm behind her to steady herself, but her arm went directly into the gaping maw of the oven.

"Elsa!" Anna cried. She rushed to her sister. "Get your arm out of there! Now!"

Elsa slowly removed her arm from the burning oven. Anna braced herself for the worst, preparing to see serious burns that would require far more medical attention than she was prepared to deal with.

Except the arm Elsa removed from the oven was perfectly normal. There were no visible injuries of any kind, no burns, no blistered skin. In fact, Elsa's arm didn't even feel warm to the touch, as if it had had no contact at all with the raging fire.

Anna was flabbergasted. "How . . . how did you . . . ?"

"I guess you were right," Elsa said, softly, rubbing her arm, as if she wished it had been injured. "I guess I've never been burned before."

"Elsa, that's . . . that's . . ."

"Unnatural?" Elsa finished. "An abomination?"

"No, that's not what I meant! I just . . . I guess I'm still coming to grips with the fact that you have these powers. But I don't think they're bad! I think . . . I think it's great that you have them!"

"Why would you say that?" Elsa asked quietly. "Why would you think they're something to be proud of?"

"Because they're a part of you," Anna said. "And if they're a part of you, that means they can't be bad." She took Ela's hand in her own. "Because nothing about you is bad, Elsa. Nothing!"

The two sisters stared at each other for a moment, unsure of what to say next. Finally, Elsa said, "So, are we going to eat, or are we just going to spend all morning smelling this amazing food?"

Anna laughed. "Well, I guess it's about time we ate before all my hard work goes to waste." She reached for a pitcher on the counter. "Fresh-squeezed orange juice. It's not the coldest in the world; it would probably taste better if it was a little colder, but—"

Elsa quietly stretched out her fingers and concentrated. Suddenly, the pitcher of juice was coated in a thin layer of frost. "I think it will taste just fine," she said.

Anna looked at the pitcher, then back at Elsa, and grinned. "So . . . do you want syrup on your pancakes or not?"

AN: I wanted to create a lighthearted domestic scene where Elsa and Anna could just talk about . . . anything. This is the result. Hopefully, it's satisfactory. More to come as ideas come to my mind. Feedback is always greatly appreciated.