Disclaimer: I do not own Frozen
Review reply to Frozenmyheart: Thanks for the review. Afraid there is nothing else I can say except read on and find out...
A/n: And here is chapter 4. This one was by far the most troublesome and probably the most heavily edited of the five. The final chapter will either be up tomorrow or Thursday. Probably tomorrow as my chance of getting out of work on time to play badminton instead is very low (unless anyone here happens to be a UK Pensions law genius?). In the meantime, I hope you enjoy!
4) The Answering
They say farewell to David the following day. If Anna didn't know better, she could look at Elsa as she curtsies and murmurs her goodbye, and think there's nothing wrong. The prince bows deeply. He looks at Elsa with his usual eyes; when she looks at Elsa, she's startled to see that she watches him with the same eyes. Sad eyes.
When he leaves, Elsa throws herself into meetings. Anna doesn't question it. She doesn't know if Elsa has always been like this, or whether opening the doors after thirteen years has released a pent of energy, but Elsa strikes her as the type of person who needs to be busy when she's upset.
However, that leaves Anna with nothing to do but think and worry. She has already written a short report on the reaction of the people of Arendelle to the possibility of Elsa marrying David – or any other prince – and it is mostly neutral to positive. Similar to their feelings about Elsa. There is an undercurrent of grumbling that Elsa caused the food problems, that she is cold and unfeeling, that she could freeze Arendelle again; but many people genuinely appreciate the effort Elsa is putting in to remedy things and the time she takes to meet with them. Anna wishes people could see Elsa when she slumps over a drink of stimulant to write just one more report, or hear the resignation in her voice when she says she needs to marry. Then they would know how lucky they are to have Elsa, and not someone like Hans, as their ruler.
In the end, she spends her day with Kristoff, acting even more cheerfully than usual. It doesn't cheer her up the way it normally does and maybe she's quieter than usual because Kristoff actually asks if she's OK. When she says she is, he doesn't prod but she can tell from his expression that he doesn't believe her.
In the evening, Anna does not mention David. She does not mention the library. She does not mention thirteen years of isolation or their parents. And she certainly does not ask any questions. She thinks she talks about the winter festival, filling in silences wherever she can. But then, as Anna walks with Elsa to her room (as has become tradition whenever Elsa has no pressing meeting or work to be done), Elsa talks. She tells Anna about a question she answered, about marriages of love, about a soft kiss and a sad realisation. She speaks in a tone that's broken but not quite. She falls silent when they reach her room.
Anna glances around before guiding Elsa into the room and closing the door behind them. This isn't a conversation for servants' ears.
"I'm sorry," Elsa says, sitting at her desk. "I shouldn't have-"
"You should do whatever makes you happy," says Anna firmly. She lights the torches, walks to the non-broken armchair and tries to make sense of everything Elsa has said. Her first thought is to say that if Elsa doesn't want to marry David then she shouldn't but Elsa will only repeat her old arguments. So, instead, she says, "Would it be so bad? You like him."
"I barely know him. It's only been a month."
"I knew Kristoff for less time," she points out although she had the opportunity to discover how far Kristoff could be trusted whereas Elsa hasn't. And she has no intention of marrying Kristoff yet.
Elsa doesn't point that out. "It might not be bad," she admits. "If he is like he's been for the last few weeks then he's nice. Kind. Funny. I could work with someone like that." A pause. "Maybe I could live with someone like that." She looks at her hands. "But I want to be like Mother and Father – I want to love the person I'm with."
What do you know of true love, Anna?
"There's more than one kind of love."
Some people are worth melting for.
"I know. But." She closes her eyes. "That was my first kiss and … shouldn't it have done something?"
"Maybe you were nervous."
"I was."
"Well … there you go."
Elsa sighs. "What if that wasn't it though? I don't … I don't think he felt anything either." She slumps forwards. "I'm being selfish. We need this. Love isn't a requirement in our marriages."
"Can't you love him but not want to touch him?"
"Isn't that unfair on him? It … oh, Anna, what if he does fall in love with me and wants more than just being with me and I remain … frozen? Or what if neither of us wants it and we're miserable? Just going through the motions?" She breathes deeply and Anna hates it when she does that because it means she's about to say something that hides how much she hurts. "It'll be fine. Gerda once told me that all I need to do is lie on my back and think about something else."
"Well, that sounds like stupid advice. Almost as though you wouldn't enjoy it." She hesitates. "Maybe you shouldn't worry yet. You said yourself, you were nervous and you've only known him for a month. Maybe you'll look at him one day and wanna snog him senseless. And if that doesn't happen … he doesn't seem like the kind of man who'd force you to do anything. If he even could. It might be unfair on him but at least you both know what you're marrying for." She bites her lip. "I'm sorry, Elsa. That's so stupid. Telling you that you'll be miserable but at least you knew you were going to be."
Elsa doesn't say anything, only looks out of the window across the room.
"Or you could see if the next prince is any better?"
Which doesn't help either. Anna doesn't know what to say. Anna always has something to say but now she has … nothing. For the second time in barely any time at all.
Elsa stands up and walks over to the window and Anna still doesn't know what to say. There's nothing she can do. Nothing she can help with. Everything's going wrong and she can't stop it.
No. There has to be something. Something that will spring to her aid. A snowy cabin that sells climbing gear. An experienced mountaineer with a sled. The power of love. There's always something that happens and makes it possible.
There's always something. They just have to wait for it.
There just has to be something. Because if there isn't then Hans has won.
There just has to be something.
David's words turn over in her head.
You two are more similar than you realise.
Once, she would have said that that isn't true. They are as different as different can be. Anna is words whereas Elsa is silence. Anna is impulse while Elsa is thought. Anna is feeling; Elsa is the lack thereof. Except Elsa's the one who cries whereas Anna never does. Elsa doesn't talk but says intimate things while Anna talks constantly but rarely says anything too painful about herself. Elsa has decided to marry a man after knowing him for four weeks whereas Anna has made no more than the idle, unthought-out comment in relation to marrying Kristoff.
They laugh at the same things. They'd do anything for each other. They're both haunted by memories they won't tell the other about. Maybe there's more to the contradictions. Maybe Anna only avoids topics because Elsa lets her. Maybe Anna doesn't cry because she knows Elsa depends on her strength.
If she is similar to Anna, it's probably only in the bad things. But Anna has many wonderful qualities. She's funny. She's likeable. She's smart. She has a way of convincing people to follow her. And she knows exactly what she wants and feels. So in the days leading up to David's next visit, she attends to her duties with as much serenity as she can manage but beneath her mask, she tries to emulate more of Anna. She allows herself to feel angrier or happier. She tries to laugh more. She tries to look at people and not repress anything.
In the meantime, Anna asks her questions and they probe at the small things in the missing thirteen years. What did she do in her spare time? Did she talk to their mother or father more? What was her favourite story? How did she get on with the regent? Was she scared, that first day? One day, Anna asks something about their parents. Elsa hears herself say, "I'm sorry I didn't come to the funeral."
Anna only shrugs. "You would've come if you could. I understand that now."
It occurs to her that this Anna isn't the same Anna in the missing thirteen years. They form a large part of her but they're not all of her. And maybe some of this new part comes from Elsa. Maybe that's what David meant.
It's enough of a realisation for her to say, "Have you cried since they died?"
Anna freezes because Elsa never asks these questions. Elsa wonders if she is going to refuse to answer and maybe that's her initial reaction but as she opens her mouth, she looks at Elsa then closes it.
"No." Her fingers tuck a lock of hair that used to be platinum-blonde behind her ear. "I think we both had our own method of coping with how we grew up. You repressed and I-"
"Repressed," Elsa finishes, understanding, finally. "You make yourself smile and laugh."
That painful smile is back. "It seemed better than moping, you know? Not that you moped, 'cause you didn't, not really, you were always busy but … I can't be like that. I can't cry. I won't."
This time, it is Anna who feigns tiredness and Elsa who lets her go.
When David arrives, he sees her and smiles. She smiles back. She doesn't know what she feels overall but she is pleased to see him. This time, he has brought gifts, claiming that a good suitor would actually bring something and she can't help giggling at the thought that two people in their situation need small trinkets to seal the deal. He has brought Anna some cakes from Burakoem, and Olaf, a very small scarf. To everyone's surprise, he brings Kristoff a small, carved sled.
He presents Elsa with a wooden spoon. The handle is made of carved patterns.
"It's a traditional gift to someone you're courting, see. The handle symbolises what you want for the relationship." Then very quietly, he adds, "We think spoons are better than kisses, see. You can brain someone with a spoon if you need to."
She raises an eyebrow. "You envision a violent relationship?"
"You haven't met many Burakoemin women."
She catches Anna's eye as she laughs and accepts the spoon. Her gloved fingers trace over the symbols. A lock. A horseshoe. A cross.
They decide to get the paperwork out of the way first. He and his foreign advisor tell her which parts of the betrothal agreement would and wouldn't be acceptable to Burakoem. She tells them which parts Arendelle needs and what they must refuse. The negotiation, that first day, lasts so long that the only reason she makes it to dinner is because David remembers. Even then, she eats quickly and is back negotiating within an hour, with Anna's blessing.
They hammer out most of the details but agree to leave the rest of it for another time, partly because both of their ministers are drooping with exhaustion. David looks tired as well. Elsa's stimulant is running out and she knows the crazed energy she feels is about to drop sharply.
She walks David to his room. All of her meetings alone with him are improper but the good thing about being the queen is that there are very few people who can chastise her. Besides, there are enough palace guards to testify that they never enter each other's rooms. Outside his room, their conversation, already awkward enough, pauses. She still has the spoon – she accidentally took it to the negotiation with her – and now she studies it.
"What do the symbols mean?"
He touches the lock. "Security." The horseshoe. "Luck." The cross. "Faith."
What David wants in their relationship. Security. Luck. Faith.
His fingers linger on the cross. Carefully, she puts her own finger on top of his.
"It might work," he says quietly, looking at their touching fingers. "Plenty of noble couples barely see each other. Or we could be friends, at least. And if not, I can swim very fast."
"I can freeze water."
"You don't need to anymore. You have the spoon."
She can't help it. She begins to laugh. He grins and bows before disappearing into his room. She looks at the cross for a short while longer before turning and heading to her own room.
She watches them around each other. They have a few of their own jokes. They seem able to talk for hours. They both like to study and read, although David thinks Elsa is a philistine for her apathy towards music while Elsa doesn't understand (she can't understand this about Anna either) why David detests maths. In some ways they fit and in other ways, they don't. David is almost relaxed when he talks to her but there's that twitchiness and if you catch him at the right moment, his eyes are Elsa's eyes. Elsa is less rigid near him; she smiles a lot too and she thinks most of it is genuine. But when they eat dinner together, she can see the bite in Elsa's lip (and she can't help wondering, did Elsa always have that bite or was it Anna who had it first?) and the curl in her fingers.
One day, Elsa goes into the city and makes snowmen with the children. She laughs there and all of it is genuine.
Kristoff sees her looking.
"You don't think that's even a little creepy?"
"What?"
"Staring at your sister."
"Pssh, that's not creepy. I mean, I basically did that before except I did it to her door. Her door didn't object."
His arm is around her, solid and comfortable. "What a surprise." She nestles in closer to him. They stand like that for a while. Then he says, "I haven't seen her like this since the day she made the courtyard into an ice rink. Is she like this with you?"
Anna starts to say Not since we were kids but is that true?
"She can be," Anna says. "If she's in a good mood or sometimes when she's tired and being silly. I wish she could be like this all the time though."
"She has a lot to deal with."
"I know," Anna says. "But that shouldn't stop her from being happy."
"It doesn't, does it?"
She can't answer that.
Anna goes to Elsa, to hand her something. Elsa jolts, as though Anna has interrupted a daydream. Maybe she has.
What does Elsa daydream about?
Another question. Every time Anna thinks she's getting to grips with Elsa, there's always another question.
Elsa starts to smile that regal, even smile she wears so well but Anna hears herself say, "Don't."
Elsa looks almost grateful as the smile slips away. They regard each other silently.
Anna says, "You're seeing David later?"
Elsa nods, still not smiling, her hands twisting Anna's paper.
"OK."
As she turns to leave, Elsa says, "Do you remember when you asked me if I've ever been happy? And I said I was almost happy when I built the ice castle?"
"Yeah," Anna says but her throat's dry and her heart aches.
"I sometimes wonder if I ever could have been happy there." She keeps twisting the paper. Anna's work will be illegible now. "Anna …do you think you can ever be happy if you build a prison and lock yourself in it?"
Yes, I'm alone, but I'm alone and free.
Oh, what lies we tell ourselves.
"Maybe some people could be," Anna says. "I couldn't." She reaches a hand out to Elsa who flinches before letting it settle on her arm. "But I don't think anyone should build a prison for themselves unless that's where they want to be."
Elsa smiles now, her normal smile, not her regal one. "You give me hope, you know that, Anna?"
"For what?" Anna says and then wishes she could have said anything that would have made her sound less stupid.
"That people can go through hell and still be happy."
Elsa's hand touches Anna's arm, their touches causing their arms to entwine. There's something in that touch that tells Anna that even though she's never said it, Elsa knows what Hans said to her, knows that she still dreams of the ice shard hitting her and then nothing: just the colour of black. Or maybe she doesn't know but she understands.
And Elsa, who has lived a life emotionless and hidden away, who had to help rule a country as soon as their parents died, who was nearly killed because of her sister's anger and nearly watched her sister die because of her, thinks happiness is a hope, not a reality.
I wish she could be like this all the time.
Elsa's not one for prisons. She destroyed Hans' after all. And her parents' prison nearly destroyed her. But she survived it almost in one piece.
But that's Elsa. Elsa's the one who can do magic, can escape prisons, can survive isolation, can rule a country while dealing with the demons of her past. Everything Anna did, she did with other people. Could only do with other people. Maybe Anna is happy but Elsa is the capable one.
I think we both had our own methods of coping with how we grew up.
Elsa loves her. Everything Elsa did, after freezing Arendelle, she did for Anna and her country. Everything she intended to do was for Anna. Even before that, Elsa hid from Anna for Anna. And she did all of it on her own.
Let me help. What can I do? I do have to know all of this, you know.
What can Anna do, when no one trusts her to do anything? When she has to ask to help? When Elsa refuses to let Anna sacrifice herself? She isn't Elsa. She isn't a ruler or a witch or even respected. She's just … Anna.
Don't underestimate yourself, Anna.
Elsa trusts her. Elsa used her idea. Uses her ideas. She put Anna in charge of ice export. She asks her to attend events as the royal representative. She talks to Anna.
And Anna's saved Elsa before. She made it to the North Mountain with the help of Kristoff and Oaken's gear. She fought off wolves with Kristoff. She confronted the most terrifying ruler in the world alone. She escaped from Hans' prison with Olaf. And she made it to Elsa before the sword could fall. Elsa couldn't stop her that time.
Maybe there isn't always something. Maybe there's always someone.
And maybe she's Elsa's someone.
Maybe she won't provide the magic ingredient that will make Elsa happy forever. But if she doesn't try, who will?
She lets go of Elsa's arm.
"I'll see you later, sis."
Elsa looks at her carefully. "You look as though something's happened."
"Nothing's happened," Anna says. "Yet."
Following that conversation, Anna almost withdraws. She's still there, of course – still chatty and friendly and jokey – but only when Elsa addresses her. And when she doesn't, Anna looks at her with intense, blue eyes.
Whatever Anna is thinking about, it involves her. Anna won't tell her exactly what it is but she sometimes asks questions. Not questions about her life before or even about who Elsa is. Sometimes, they're about politics or the law. Sometimes they're about history. Sometimes they're about Elsa's opinions on topics.
There's that familiar anxiety, that Elsa has done something to cause this, but then Anna smiles at her, eyes bright, and Elsa decides to trust her. Whatever Anna is thinking, she'll let Elsa know when she's ready.
She hopes.
When the answer comes to her, it is morning and Anna is helping with planning for the party that evening. She's not sure her presence is actually needed but it gives her something to do. It's to be relatively quiet – another dinner with music. Another way for people to meet the Burakoemin retinue. She's chattering away to one of the head planners when she hears someone comment on how handsome one of David's soldiers is. That's when she thinks of it. She's so excited that she drops the plate she's holding (Elsa has long since stopped giving her a royal allowance on the basis that Anna is now so deep in technical debt to the Crown in relation to broken antiques that all of the money should be returned anyway) and rushes off, ignoring the startled cries of the palace workers. Everyone knows she runs around without thinking so it's not like it's out of the ordinary.
She asks around and finds Elsa and David in one of the small courtyards. By the time she reaches them, she's almost out of breath and has a gash on her cheek from falling over. Elsa is understandably alarmed and Anna has to calm her down. Finally, they let her explain why she's there.
"The dinner this evening," she says. "You need to turn it into a ball." She looks around. "If it's a ball," she says as quietly as she can, although the wind is loud enough and cold enough that there is no one nearby, "then the Burakoemin nobles and the Arendelle nobles get more of a chance to speak to each other."
"That's nice but I don't see why-"
"If they get a chance to speak and dance with each other, they might wanna court."
"So?"
How can two people who like books and studying so much be so stupid? "You want an alliance between Arendelle and Burakoem, done by marriage. Why do you two have to be the ones who marry? What if one of our nobles and one of David's nobles marry? Elsa can say that anyone who harms her court harms her and David can give us what we need in exchange. It's perfect. You can call me a genius now."
David doesn't question why Anna knows he isn't keen on marrying Elsa. He frowns and says, "That's asking a lot, isn't it? You're expecting two people to meet tonight and like each other so much they get betrothed within a month or two and then agree to us using them for politics."
"But some of them have met before. I bet they haven't tried anything yet 'cause Burakoemin people don't usually marry outside Burakoem. But you're a prince – if there's a law, you can change it."
"I, uh, don't think I can go round changing the law without my father's permission. But there isn't a law, see. We just … don't do it."
"Anna, I can see where you're coming from," Elsa says gently, "but David's right. Noble betrothals take years to work out. Ours is … different. And I don't want to do anything that pressures my people into doing anything they don't want to."
Anna wants to shout because, for once, she has an idea that might actually work. Why does Elsa destroy anything that might make her happy? Why is Elsa too damn selfless to see that she doesn't always have to shoulder the burden? That other people can – may even want to – help her?
Of course, if she weren't that way, she wouldn't be Elsa.
"I'm not saying do that. I'm not even saying it's gonna work 'cause, you know, it's hard to say anything's definitely gonna work. What I'm saying is: let them see. It might work and there's no harm in it. Just 'cause you're trying this doesn't mean you two have to cancel whatever it is you have. How about this? Just have the ball and let it be known that you're happy for people to talk but make it sound like it's 'cause things are going well with David – not that they're not going well 'cause you two are giving each other cutlery for some weird reason – I mean, not weird, it's sweet, even if it's for violence and … anyway, David can let slip that whatever rules they have can be relaxed. And … I dunno what the law here is but I can do the same and then … all I'm saying is just see if anyone asks for permission to court. If no one does, nothing's changed but if someone does, maybe they can be the alliance."
"Wait, you don't know what the law on marrying foreign nobles is? Why did you ask to marry Hans without knowing if the law even allowed it?"
It doesn't hurt as much as it usually does. "I wasn't exactly thinking straight, was I? Come on then, what is the law?"
Elsa pauses. "I, uh, actually, I don't know. I should look that up."
Which means she's thinking about it.
"Besides, you were the Queen, you could've made whatever declaration you wanted. You've done it once, with Kristoff."
"Twice, surely."
"Twice?"
"I made up his position; that was once. Then when you were having kittens about his not being a prince, I said he was equivalent to being a baron because that was the first title I could think of that wasn't a lord. And only then because I think lords have to own land."
"Wait, what? You decided to make him a noble on the spot? After you made up the title?"
"Well, I didn't think he wanted to be a noble and it didn't seem all that important to you. But then you were so anxious that I thought, if that was what was worrying you two, he might as well have one. I mean, who was going to question it? The position had only existed for a few weeks. I thought if anyone asked, I'd say I had said it and no one had listened." She pauses. "I don't think I can make up the law here though."
Elsa didn't do it from propriety. She did it on a whim. On impulse. She-
"Aye, very nice, I'm glad we've discovered Elsa can give out ranks whenever she wants," David says, "but unless your next idea's going to involve making up some more extremely long titles, I think we need to get back to discussing changing tonight's dinner into a ball."
He's smiling, despite the snarky tone to his words. He's a comfortable man to be around. She thinks Elsa could love him. But loving someone and desiring their touch isn't the same thing and not everyone knows how to have one without the other.
Elsa's smile fades. "If they get on … I don't want to use them like that."
"Then ask. Elsa, you can ask if they wouldn't mind."
"It doesn't sound right when a queen asks. Queens never ask. They order."
"Well, order them to answer honestly then. Tell them the deal's being done whether they marry or you marry – which is true."
"Then why am I taking such an interest in their wedding if I'm going to agree to the same things and marry David?"
"Wait, are we definitely getting married now?"
"Hypothetically."
"I dunno. That sounded like you just agreed to marry David."
"Look, can we take this seriously for more than fifteen seconds? David, I might marry you, but my point is, if we're agreeing exactly the same deal, why should it matter if they're marrying? Anna, I'm sorry but for your idea to work, these people have to fall in love very quickly and I have to somehow convince them to marry without suggesting that I'm ordering them to marry because I don't want to marry David."
"Wait, we're not getting married?"
Elsa rounds on David, hands on hip. "Someone," she says darkly, "is looking to be turned into a snowman."
"Would I at least get to talk? Like Olaf?"
Anna snorts and Elsa turns to glare at her but then she starts to giggle as well. David's chuckles join them and for a few seconds, Anna completely forgets that they are trying to change the future. Sometimes, it's nice to just laugh. Elsa often forgets that.
She can see the idea turning over in their minds. Yet she can see their point. Anna's next idea is for her to do the encouraging but maybe she's spent too long with Elsa and her realism has rubbed off on her because she realises she's in the same position as David and Elsa. Plenty of people know that Elsa and Anna eat dinner together nearly every single night. She's heard people say she and Elsa are thick as thieves, that Anna is her trusted confidante. If Anna tries to comment on royal business, they will assume Elsa has sent her.
Once, she thinks, being unable to be seen as someone friendly and part of the people would have upset her. Then again, once, she only wanted to meet a handsome prince and live outside the palace doors. Now she's part of something bigger, a vital piece of Elsa's reign and-
"They don't have to get betrothed!"
Elsa has stopped laughing by now and gives her that look which means she's not sure whether to humour Anna or tell her she's insane. "You said-"
"No, I know. But you're right that if we encourage them to get betrothed, that's doing to them what's happening to you. But the point of you two marrying wouldn't be so that you two get married – it'd be to ally Burakoem and Arendelle. So, so what if just allowing people to court and mix is enough? I mean, if one of David's nobles wanted to court one of our nobles, maybe that noble could stay or go or something. It'd show our nations are together! And then we could make an agreement on that basis and-"
"It's not as strong as-"
"Why wouldn't it be as strong as you two marrying? Arendelle needs food and supplies; you want protection. Having people move to each country shows you're allying. You don't need to marry to show you want to help each other."
Elsa looks thoughtful. "It still isn't as strong. If we're married then I have to help and vice versa. Because we're tied to each other's countries. And if we had a child – and we'd be trying, I suppose – that child would be an unalienable link. I could easily disclaim Burakoem even if my nobles are there. But," she says, holding up a hand to forestall Anna's protests, "that's not to say this wouldn't work. The only problem is that I would need to publically say that if anyone attacks Burakoem, Arendelle will come to its aid and I … I said I wouldn't do that. It's not even in the betrothal agreement, past us sending some soldiers there."
"Then don't say it. Say you're swapping reindeer or something. Let people make up their own minds."
"I suppose. But people would still think it. It might work. Or they might come after me or use a fight with Burakoem as an excuse to capture me."
"They wouldn't attack Arendelle, I don't think. They would attack us in an attempt to draw you out." David, too, has stopped smiling. "I guess that's the question then. Do you risk misery or safety?"
"Elsa," Anna says slowly, "say you did marry David. What would stop them attacking anyway? Maybe not straight away but eventually other countries will figure out that David married you for defence – even if that's not what's in the betrothal agreement, they'll know that's why Burakoem approached you. And maybe they'd want to stop you before you could have a child with your powers. The only advantage marrying David would have is that the threat's implied for a short time."
"Anna, when did you get so smart?"
"What? Come on, that's totally uncalled for. I-"
"Half the time, whenever I have a problem that looks difficult or impossible, I give it to you and you look at it and say, 'that's easy, just do this'. And it works. Or it could."
Does Elsa not realise, Anna's always been like this? Anna climbed up the North Mountain in a dress because no one told her she couldn't.
She shrugs. "Some of us are just born geniuses, sis. Does that mean you're gonna try it?"
Elsa looks at David. "I guess I have little to lose. If we get any petitions, great. If we don't … we carry on. David?"
Those eyes make her shiver. He smiles anyway. "I'm for it, then," he says. "But I'm not going to be the one who goes back in there and tells the party planners it has to be a ball."
Elsa turns to her and she can guess from the wicked sparkle in her eyes what will happen next. "Anna's idea, and Anna's the one with an in with the entertainment planners. She can go."
"Come on, you're the Queen. They'll ignore me."
"You're Crown Princess. You're second-in-command. Take Olaf."
"How will Olaf help?"
"Try refusing him when he asks for something. It's surprisingly difficult." As Anna tries to formulate some kind of response, Elsa adds, "The longer we stay here, the less likely it is that there'll be a ball. Tell them I ordered it."
"Believe me, I'm not gonna say it's my idea."
"It is your idea."
"Are you two always like this, then?" David asks, amused. "Most younger siblings show their older siblings respect. I like this approach."
Anna shrugs. "Yeah, that didn't work out for us."
"Anna doesn't respect anyone."
"That's not true!"
David coughs. "So, the ball…"
"Fine. Fine, I'm going. But I am blaming everything on you two."
In any event, the ball doesn't happen that evening. Halfway to the planners, Anna realises that someone has to tell the nobles. After another brief conversation/argument with Elsa, they agree to hold the ball the next day. The planners do still nearly have a fit when Anna tells them but at least none of them attempt to kill her, although she does turn a deaf ear to several people who are suddenly plotting treason.
She makes Kristoff attend. He's been to a few of these events with her and he's not comfortable there. If they ever did get married, she suspects that while he would need to attend more events, their lives would be nearer the ice cutters.
Unless Elsa dies.
Because then he would be royal consort to the Queen.
Elsa, kneeling and broken on the ice, as a sword is lifted high.
Don't think about that.
She hasn't told him about the plan, partly because he has a tendency to pick her plans apart loudly and partly because she's nervous. If this doesn't work, she'll have failed. Maybe David and Elsa could be happy. But she unknowingly watched her sister curl in on herself from afar for thirteen years. She doesn't know if she could knowingly do it from such a near distance for even thirteen hours.
Kristoff notices that she's nervous. His comments are gentler than normal and he keeps an arm around her whenever he can, because he knows it calms her. Nobility who are only courting aren't supposed to engage in open displays of affection but Anna and Kristoff are now a well-established couple and, well, no one expects Anna to follow noble protocol. Sometimes, being viewed as the awkward, clumsy second daughter has its advantages.
She tries not to speak to many of the guests because she's terrified that she'll blurt the plan out. Kristoff doesn't mind – he hates the stupid games many of the nobles play and hates having to suffer snide jabs about his background. He also hates the way Anna always steps in to defend him and, truth be told, she hates it too. So they spend much of their evening in a corner, sneaking sweets from a table. Funny. Once, Anna longed for dances and parties and balls. Once, she would have thought that she'd go to the centre of the room and never stop dancing.
Although, she spent most of her first ball talking to Hans outside.
Maybe she's never liked balls as much as she thought she would.
She doesn't look at Elsa to begin with, too scared to see how the plan is going – if the plan is going. She doesn't like how Elsa is at these events. The Elsa here is calm and regal. She politely chuckles rather than snorts and laughs. She makes few snide comments. She is kind and she is friendly but she's distant. When she's outside the court – at festivals, or when Elsa does any impromptu entertainment for Arendelle – she is more animated but there is still that gap. If people could see – if Elsa would let people see – the Elsa who makes innuendoes with a perfectly straight face, who sometimes creates little ice sculptures because she can, who guffaws and snorts her drink, then they would be more inclined towards her. If they could only sit with her when she cries or hear her make Anna promise not to give up Kristoff for her then they would know she's human.
Her father once said that people generally only aspire to a few things. A father and a soldier. A wife and a maid. Easygoing and cheerful; stoic and calm. But a monarch has to be everything. A politician, a parent, a shepherd. Easygoing in some cases, hard in others. To be a monarch is to be more than human. It is to be the best of all of them.
She still hates him but she has to admit, he trained Elsa well.
Despite this, she's surprised when David and Elsa dance. For most of the evening, Elsa has resisted dancing. Anna knows, from evening dinners and from her own guesswork, that Elsa loved dancing when she was little but that their parents stopped the lessons after the accident (which, still, Elsa will not describe); that she has not danced properly since she was eight because she is scared of losing control; and that dancing is something she misses desperately, even thirteen years on. She isn't sure how much persuasion David had to use – he has danced often, though never with other women – but she follows him onto the dance floor. Some of the nobles openly stare because no one has ever seen Elsa dance.
Anna vaguely remembers having dance lessons with Elsa – not least because her last memory of playing with Elsa as a child is of the day before the accident, when they put on some kind of dance show for their parents. That Elsa is out of practice is clear – as the music starts, she constantly glances at her feet and misses a couple of beats. But the Elsa of her memories was a talented dancer (for a small child), and some of that natural talent begins to shine through. It's a slow song and David guides Elsa well. Elsa doesn't speak as they dance and Anna thinks it's because she's concentrating. Scared of making a mistake. But looking around at the nobles – from both countries – she thinks that fear is misplaced. Maybe a monarch does have to be the best of everyone but even the best people make mistakes and she can see that this small thing is endearing Elsa to her court.
When the dance ends, some of the Burakoemin servants, who have been in attendance, pick up their instruments. Arendelle's music is brass – Burakoem favours string and woodwind. They strike up a lively tune and the Burakoemin nobles begin to dance, a strange dance filled with skipping and clapping. Someone calls out movements as the nobles pair up.
David holds a hand out to Elsa, who hesitates. She turns her head in Anna's direction and their eyes meet. Anna sticks her thumbs up. She doesn't know why but it seems like the right thing to do. Elsa grins – actually grins – and takes David's hand. Her dress and shoes aren't made for skipping but she still tries and it encourages the other Arendelle guests to join in. Elsa laughs as she tries to keep up and that makes Anna smile from her corner. Next to her, Kristoff taps the table appreciatively.
When the music ends, Elsa and David return to their table. Anna looks at her older sister. Elsa's normally pale face is flushed and her eyes dance as she discusses something animatedly with the foreign prince.
Three times. Elsa has been happy, or close to it, three times since she was eight.
Looking at her now, Anna's quite sure that number has increased to four.