a/n: By popular request, I am continuing this. You guys are way too persistent! My current plan is to have three chapters total, though the third one (which is about Elsa slowly remembering Anna) might be split up. It's going to be more detailed and compact in terms of the time-frame, obviously, since the first two chapters span the same thirteen year separation. Hope you like Ch.2, which is from Anna's perspective.

A World of Memory

Anna pretended like she didn't know, but she did.

She knew Mamma and Pappa were hiding something from her, because no matter how many times she asked about Elsa they would never give her the answer she wanted.

"She had to go somewhere else, to learn to control her powers," Pappa answered, face starched and ironed because he never, ever smiled anymore.

"Okay," Anna said, because that made sense. "So when can I go and visit?"

"You can't," Pappa said, and Anna thought that didn't make sense.

Another thing that didn't make sense was that Mamma cried a lot, too. Anna had heard her one time while sneaking out for chocolates, had seen her sitting alone in the kitchens at night sobbing into her hands, and Anna slipped away to give her some privacy.

("Sometimes, people just need to be alone," Elsa had told her once, when she had tried to talk to one of the younger maids and been rebuffed.

"Oh. So does that mean you want me to go away too?"

"I said people need to be alone," Elsa said, smiling. "But I didn't say they want to be. I'll always want you around, Anna. Okay? And I'll always be here for you if you want me.")

Anna could really use some company right then, as she stared up at the bed canopy and counted the stitches, trying to focus on just a few so they formed a snowflake. Her last memory of Elsa was waking her up to build a snowman, and then something weird had happened and the next thing she knew, she woke up to a bedroom emptied of half its contents. Anna sat up and stared at the opposite end of the room. Where there was once a bed and a dresser was empty space.

It was weird.

And Anna was a little upset with Elsa.

She hadn't even said goodbye before leaving! She just up and left, disappeared one morning. Anna noticed her absence in all the tiny ways, but the silence was the worst when she slept. Anna was so used to the comforting sound of Elsa simply breathing. Not being able to hear the rhythm of Elsa's breathing right across from bed was even affecting her sleep.

One day, when the sun began to rise and light peeked through the curtains, Anna bounded off her bed, sprinted to the other end, and prepared to jump up to Elsa. It was such ingrained instinct that she didn't need to open her eyes, because she knew the distance perfectly, knew exactly how many steps to take, and when she finally jumped she fell flat on the ground and ended up with a bloody nose.

She stopped waking up with the sun after that.

She could hardly sleep at night, so she made up for it by sleeping in.

"I want to see Elsa," Anna demanded.

"You're too young," Pappa said, and Anna knew this particular answer well enough to mouth the words as her father spoke. "Maybe when you're older. It's too far away, and the trip will be dangerous."

"When is Elsa coming back then?"

"I don't know," Pappa said, voice trailing off into a murmur and eyes looking everywhere but at her. "I really don't know, Anna, I wish I could tell you."

Anna wished Pappa could tell her too, but he never could no matter how many times she asked.

"It's snowing!"

Anna expected to see Elsa when she ran outside to play, because as far as she was concerned, winter was Elsa and Elsa was winter. If it was snowing, that meant Elsa was back and wanted to build a snowman. It was with breathless anticipation that Anna ran through the hallways, tripping even more than usual in her haste and drawing more than a few odd looks.

"Elsa!"

Anna opened the doors and prepared to be greeted by her sister returning at last.

Nothing but snow, only snow.

Anna sat down in the snow and waited around for Elsa to surprise her somehow. Maybe she would burst out of the snow, like a daisy. But whole minutes passed and though she knew Elsa was much, much more patient than she was and could probably manage a prank like this, she also knew that Elsa would never keep her waiting. Elsa wasn't here.

Just to check, Anna caught one of the snowflakes in her hand. All of Elsa's were distinctly hers, their pattern identical, and Anna knew it so well she could have drawn it in perfect proportion blindfolded.

("They're really pretty, but I thought all snowflakes were different."

"They are, except for mine. If we ever get separated, you can follow the snowflakes back to me!" Elsa told her. "And you'll be able to tell it's me, see?"

"But how will you find me?"

"I'll always be able to find you.")

These ones weren't special.

She flicked it away and then shuffled her foot across the thick blanket of snow, but the wonder was gone. There was nothing else to do in the castle though, and certainly no one to do it with, so Anna decided to play by herself outside. Hours passed. A veritable army of snow angels and a legion of lopsided snowmen later, Anna simply lay there and stared up at the drifting snowflakes.

Anna realized she had never liked the snow much unless Elsa was there with her.

They told the people there was a threat against the kingdom, and as heir, Elsa had to be sheltered from potential danger. Of course, nobody was at risk and life could continue as usual, and the gates would remain open. Sending Elsa away was only a precaution, and the King and Queen had wanted to give her experience in foreign kingdoms anyhow.

Everybody accepted that and life moved on. Nobody suspected a thing.

Anna no longer suspected that anything was out of the ordinary or, more accurately, that she was being kept out of the loop. After all, Pappa had told everyone that thing about the threat or whatever, but she knew Elsa was busy learning to use her magic. So obviously, she knew more and therefore knew everything there was.

("Are you reading those mystery novels again?"

"You don't like them?" Elsa grinned when Anna wrinkled her nose and shook her head, because she would much rather be playing outside or running about the halls. Instead, Elsa sat there and read, even more than they already had to. Anna thought she was weird but Elsa was still Elsa so it was okay.

"Why do you like them?"

"There's always more beneath the surface," Elsa said. "You can look at something and think you know about it, but there's always more. You can never know something perfectly."

"Well, I know you perfectly."

Elsa blinked, then nodded slowly and smiled. "Yes, I think you do." But when she put down her novel and suggested they do something else, like ride their bike through the hall, Anna thought it might have been the other way around.)

One day at dinner, Gerda accidentally set one too many seats and they all knew who it was for.

No matter how quickly Kai moved it away, the damage was done. The reminder made dinner an awkward, silent occasion. Pappa's face turned a sickly shade of green, and Mamma flat out refused to eat at all. Anna picked at her food, thinking it might make them a little happier – Mamma always told her to eat her vegetables but she never did, except for this one time – but not even that worked.

("It's good for you," Elsa said, when she caught sight of Anna's look of horror. She picked up another fork-full of spinach and actually put it in her mouth, chewed, swallowed.

"But it tastes weird…"

At Mamma's behest, Elsa nudged her until she gave in and ate the smelly stuff, pinching her nose shut and swallowing as quickly as possible. Once she was done, Anna glared at Elsa and mouthed traitor.

"I have chocolate for you later," Elsa whispered, and suddenly everything was all right.)

Anna plucked up her courage and tried again.

"I want to see Elsa."

Lines creased at the edge of Pappa's mouth, and his eyes squeezed shut. Anna had seen him do that before, rarely but more and more frequent now. It used to be when he was at those stuffy meetings and someone particularly bothersome was troubling him, but now Pappa did it whenever Elsa was mentioned. Did Pappa think Elsa was bothersome?

"That's not possible," Pappa said.

"Why not? I'm not scared, and Elsa must be lonely up there–"

Something in those words must have been too much, because her father slammed a hand on the table with such fury that Anna recoiled. She had never seen him like this. Pappa never lost control, never raised his voice at them, but he seemed like a completely different person now. Smaller, somehow, even though he was so angry. Everything about him was diminished, his pride, his stance.

"We are done talking about this, Anna."

"But I just want to–"

"Enough!"

Her father's words were harsh, venomous, and Anna felt the beginnings of tears prick at her eyes. She nodded quickly. And just like that, Pappa deflated. Anna couldn't blame him for his reaction when she noticed how tired he looked, how drawn.

"I can arrange for communication," Pappa said, and Anna brightened at the unexpected news. She would be able to hear from Elsa? "But you have to promise me not to ask to see Elsa again. She will return when she is ready."

"Okay," Anna promised.

Once dinner was over, she sprinted back to her room and wrote down everything she wanted to say. Maybe she wasn't very good with words yet because it took the entire night before Anna was satisfied. When her father found her in the morning, she was clutching a letter tightly in her fist, smiling in her sleep.

"Did she write back?"

Anna practically threw herself at Kai when he returned, but the kindly old butler only chuckled at her familiar antics and dipped into a half-bow. Both of them knew the gesture was unnecessary but Anna loved it anyway. She curtsied back and held out her hand.

"Here you are," Kai said, and he handed her a small parcel.

Anna couldn't wait to get back to her room, or even a moment longer, so she ripped it open right then and there and dumped everything out on the floor. A letter! Anna snatched it up and nearly ripped it apart in her haste to unfold it.

She didn't notice Kai shaking his head and walking away, engrossed as she was by the letter she thought was from Elsa. Anna read through the entire thing quickly, then went back and read it a second time, slower, and then a third time, taking in each individual word and feeling each one warm her a little more.

("Why is your handwriting so fancy?"

"Calligraphy, Anna." Elsa moved the brush in a wide arc, thick lines of ink flowing from where the tip touched parchment. All fancy loops and flourishes that Anna wasn't quite sure how to appreciate. It was pretty, Anna thought, but barely legible.

"But it takes so long!"

"I don't actually write like this," Elsa laughed. "You've seen my cursive."

"It looks exactly like the textbooks…"

"I've only been copying, and I do that well," Elsa agreed. "But Pappa says I need to develop my own style. Your handwriting says a lot, and a ruler needs a bold style. For now though, I copy and I learn.")

All the cursive looked the same to her, but Anna imagined Elsa writing these words just for her.

Three years had passed, and still Elsa hadn't come home.

Anna sat with legs crossed and a folder spread out on her lap, her back bent as she nibbled on the end of a pencil and contemplated on a particularly vexing equation. She was alone as always – Joan was there, but Anna could hardly ask her for help on math. All her lessons moved so quickly now that she barely had time to grasp them, let alone master them, before moving on to more and more complicated concepts. She was tempted to just circle the damn x on the page. That counted as finding it, right?

("Whatcha doing?"

"Homework." Elsa sketched out a triangle and did some weird math magic that Anna couldn't follow, but apparently Elsa understood all the weird symbols because she filled in the answer with the confidence of someone who had made the test.

"This looks pointless..."

"Geometry's not pointless," Elsa said, and her eyes lit up when she sketched out more diagrams. "See, all of this applies to architecture and even the design of everyday necessities–"

"Elsaaaaaaaa."

"Maybe you'll get it one day," Elsa laughed.)

Anna thought back to Elsa and her homework and realized now that Elsa was always assigned much, much more than she was. She only realized that now because she was oddly being given the same workload, and when she asked why Elsa did more, answer was that Elsa was the heir.

So that only made her more confused.

"Then why am I getting all this work now?"

No one answered that.

Dear Elsa,

I am writing to inform you that your absense is a…a…I can't think of a good one right now but gimme a minute I need to read Ol' Wills anyway so I'll just...

Umm, okay. But soft! What light through yoonder window breaks! What's that mean? Oh well. Pappa's been tryina get me to write more formal but it sounds so weird and stuffy and I don't like it. My punctuashun is better tho, right? Did I spell punctuashun right? Oh no, it's punctuation. Umm, forget all this and lemme start over.

Hope you're still good wherever you are, I miss you. When are you coming back? I wanna visit but Pappa never lets me, he says I'm not old enough but I'm going to be 9 soon so I think he's just being pre…preten…whatever that word is, I think it means meanie or something. So where are you anyway? I sit at home all day and get a lot of homework and it sucks because you're not here.

Wherefore art thou Elsaaaaaa?

Hugs and kisses

Anna

P.S. What does P.S. stand for?

"Can you give Elsa this?" Anna asked her father.

She slid her letter and a drawing of Elsa and herself building a snowman across the table, and Pappa nodded. This was their only way of communication, letters and drawings, though the drawings always came from Anna. Elsa would write back and sometimes send a few gifts, and these Anna kept in a locked chest beside her bed. So far, she had a collection of chocolate (some of it eaten, some of it melted), lots of things related to snowflakes (a necklace and a bracelet), and other things that were at once heartwarming and yet strangely impersonal.

Dear Anna,

Yes, your punctuation is much improved. I'm glad to see that you're taking your studies seriously.

But when Juliet in her monologue asked, "Wherefore art thou Romeo," she didn't mean where Romeo was. Wherefore actually means why, and so her question was why Romeo was Romeo. The distinction must be made, because one of the themes of the story is identity. If Romeo were not Romeo, or if Juliet were not Juliet, then their separation would not have been a concern.

I'm okay, but I still haven't learned to control my powers fully so I need to be away for longer. As much as I'd love for you to visit, I think it might be best if you stayed away. It's for your own good. And Pappa is quite correct that nine – eight – is not yet old enough. I miss you too, Anna.

Love,

Elsa

P.S. It means Post Script.

By the time she was twelve, Anna learned how to sneak out of the castle often.

She had to disguise herself though, because most everybody in the kingdom could recognize her on sight. After all, there was a yearly celebration on her birthday and all the people of Arendelle were invited to join in the festivities, and Anna very unfortunately had to make an appearance at the balcony all dressed up, maybe wave a few times and say hello.

It was only unfortunate because of the dressing up. She liked seeing people, and maybe they could tell her smile was genuine and her wave was welcoming, because people tended to like her. Mamma and Pappa took her around to mingle and discovered a talent they called "getting people to say more than they ever meant to." Anna asked if that was a bad thing, and they said no, so Anna shrugged and went along with it.

Still, being liked meant being recognized, so when Anna snuck out she had to steal an outfit from one of the servant boys. With a hat hiding her hair and a convenient smudge of dirt smeared across her cheek, Anna was ready to go. It was fun getting out of the castle and drinking in the sight of normal, everyday people.

Anna strolled through the marketplace and listened in on the haggling, giggling to herself at the strange tactics and the even stranger counters. She walked by the docks and sat on the edge, watching the sailors do their thing, and Anna picked up some more slang and even a few particularly ingenious swears she would need to shock the kitchen girls with.

"Hey! Watch out!"

At the call, Anna turned just in time to shriek and duck under a ball zooming right at her head. Luckily it passed over her and landed safely in the water with a plunk, and a boy sprinted towards her asking her if she was all right, looking incredibly flustered and stammering explanations. Anna didn't have the heart to stay mad. After she told him it was fine, he grinned, retrieved the ball, and ran away again.

Anna followed with her eyes and saw him playing with who was most likely his brother. They tossed the ball back and forth, laughing both from their lips and in their eyes, and Anna looked away. She stared down at her reflection in the water and dipped her foot down, a ripple spreading outwards from where she touched. Her face distorted, and Anna thought if she squinted hard enough she might see Elsa.

"I miss you," Anna whispered to the reflection.

She sat there for hours more. Only when the sun began to set and cast a purple and orange over the sea did Anna rise, and when she walked away she noticed the two boys were gone. Anna wondered if they had left together, returned home together. She glanced back at the water, but of course she had only been talking to her reflection and she had no sister to walk with. She had her shadow though, and so Anna trekked back talking to it about how Elsa was a stinker.

Today had been another visit day, and Mamma and Pappa had gone together.

When Anna returned, she was greeted by the sight of Mamma crying.

Another two years, two years of sending messages back and forth, but the letters grew sparser and sparser as Mamma and Pappa visited Elsa less and less, and sometimes when they returned they had nothing for her. Did Elsa not want to write anymore? And Anna noticed that her parents were on edge, whispered things about precautions and marriage and securing the kingdom.

Then one day, she was introduced to Prince Hans of the Southern Isles.

"An alliance with the Southern Isles will strengthen Arendelle in both trade and military," Pappa explained, but as much as Anna respected her father, this time she would hear none of it.

"I'm not going to marry him."

"Anna, your mother and I cannot take care of you forever. And what happens when our time comes? Arendelle will need a ruler, and you will be queen but there must be a king–"

"Why will I be queen? What about Elsa?" Anna asked.

Her father shook his head. "Forget it. But the fact remains that you must wed. All members of the royal family must marry, Anna."

"Then I'm putting it off as long as possible. I don't even know him, and Elsa isn't around. I don't care," Anna said, cutting off her father's protest, "I'm not going to do it."

Barely a year later, Mamma and Pappa were both lost at sea.

"I'm very sorry," Hans murmured. "If there's anything I can do, anything at all to make you feel better, I will. I'll be here to listen, Anna."

"…I want Elsa."

An ugly look flashed across his face, but Hans continued to feed her platitudes and Anna was desperate enough to receive them. Elsa didn't come to the funeral. Anna had thought she would at least return for this but there was no sign of her, no message, nothing to show she even cared, and for the first time Anna felt a spark of resentment towards the sister who was never there.

And the letters from Elsa stopped entirely.

Anna was alone.

She had neither the state of mind nor the inclination to rule, so Anna relegated the task to Hans, her fiancé, and he became the Regent. At first, Hans was everything she could have wished for. He didn't push for their actual marriage, content for their engagement to stretch on indefinitely. He didn't push for her to take part in ruling, simply taking over matters efficiently and giving her time to grieve.

Too efficiently, though.

By the time Anna was eighteen, she saw that Hans had no intention of ever handing the throne back, nor would he be content sitting only on the throne of Arendelle. When Anna discovered that he was preparing to go to war against the peaceful neighboring islands, she flatly told him that went against everything Pappa had stood for.

"You think you have any say in this?"

Anna thought she did. She realized otherwise when all the officials recognized only Hans's orders and brushed her aside, too caught up in his talk of glory and divine mandate. Everyone always knew Anna had no power anymore, but she only learned that fact after being shut out from the throne room. Hans proceeded to arrange for a wedding in three days.

Anna found Kai and, feeling anger and desperation and terror all at once, finally broke. When she imagined the confrontation, she saw herself violently wringing the answer from her longtime caretaker and companion. What really happened was Anna crying silently and barely able to speak past her tears, clinging to Kai and begging for an answer.

"I-I can't," Kai said, trembling. "I don't know, I swear I don't know, Anna–"

"Please tell me where Elsa is. I know that you know, Kai, Pappa told you everything, I need to know, I need to find her and make things right again, please, please, I can't do this alone!"

Anna fell to her knees.

Kai dropped down to her level and placed his forehead against the floor, told her the North Mountain, and asked for her forgiveness. In the dead of night, Anna left to find Elsa.

The North Mountain was too much for her.

Barely conscious, feeling the chill of ice and snow drain the warmth out of her body until she thought she would be frozen solid and preserved forever, Anna felt herself being carried away. Deep instinct made her whisper a name, the name of the sister she longed to see once again.

"Elsa…"

She fainted, not yet realizing that her sister had found her at last.