A/N: Mostly just wanted to get an update posted - I haven't abandoned Frozen fanfic! I may however stop writing drabbles to go with the raised by trolls AU. Currently just waiting for my first chapter to go through a beta-read and trying to think of a title.
But just so you know T haven't forgotten followers, here's at least something. Takes places right after Do You Want to Build a Snowman, and right before "guardian" which is chapter 5 of this collection.
The door is closed.
Anna's crying has long since quieted. But Elsa can hear slow, steady breathing, can feel the pressure of another body against the wood on her back, and she knows her sister is asleep at the door.
They've been sitting there for hours, long enough for the meager sunlight to fade to a cloudy night, the darkness complete and suffocating. The sounds of the harbor are muted through the tightly sealed window. The floorboards are no longer frosted over, but jagged scars of melted ice now decorate the walls. The room is too cold. Elsa feels that it's cooler than usual, even if doesn't feel the cold the way that everyone else feels it.
And so the door is still closed. Because she can't risk anyone knowing.
Anna snores.
"Anna?"
She says it before she can stop herself. Her sister shouldn't sleep outside her room. Elsa can feel the barely-thawed door through her heavy dress. And if she can feel it, Anna must be freezing.
Elsa holds her breath, but her sister sleeps on. Of course she does. Elsa remembers years of separate breakfasts because Anna couldn't wake up on time.
(But mostly because of all the other reasons.)
She tries again, louder. "Anna. Wake up."
More snoring.
"Go back to your room."
Breath.
"Please go back."
Snore.
"Anna."
Breath.
"Why do you keep coming back?"
Snore.
"I never answer the door. I never come out when you ask. I never even talk to you."
Breath. Snore.
"I want to. All the time. Do you know that?"
One part of her says of course she knows
One part says how could she?
One part says if you want to be sure then tell her
Elsa uncurls herself and kneels facing the door. "I'm sorry I didn't come out, today of all days. I couldn't control it." Frost bites at her gloves. "I can't control it."
"Sometimes I can. Papa helped. The gloves help. But when I get-nervous or scared or-or anything, I can't control it. Like today. Like now."
She thinks of her sister, alone at the funeral for their parents. Elsa thought her tears were spent. They are not.
"I wanted to be there. I wanted to be with you. But I couldn't-I can't. I can't risk it. I can't risk anyone knowing.
"I can't hurt you again."
Elsa finds herself unable to speak. Anna sleeps on. The door is frigid. The door is closed.
"Anna," she pleads in a strangled voice, pressing her hands against the cold wood of the door. "Wake up. Go back." The ice prickles on her fingertips, through the gloves. Elsa hears the hiss of frost and yanks her hands away, but it grows, the separate patches knitting together till the door is one solid frozen sheet. She can't see it, but she can hear it, wood crackling and splintering as the ice bites through it, through to the other side-
Elsa twists the knob.
Her sister is asleep on the freezing door.
The door is open.
Anna falls backwards with the open door. Elsa grabs her on instinct, before she can slide to the floor. But her hands are still tingling with magic and Elsa promptly lets go, throwing her arms wide, leaving Anna to fall against her, head on her shoulder. Her heart is hammering, louder than the muted ocean and Anna's continued snoring. Because of course Anna still wouldn't wake up.
Stopitstopitstopitstopitstopit Elsa thinks hysterically at her treacherous hands. The magic is buffeting around inside her, looking for another outlet. The floor at her feet freezes over. The temperature in the hall drops ten degrees. Elsa forces herself to breathe slowly even as her heart drums. Her fingers thaw. The magic creeps back up her arms, pulling into her chest. Don't freeze, she thinks, putting a shaking hand to Anna's shoulder.
Don't freeze.
Her sister is warm, even through wool cloak and leather glove.
Don't freeze.
The other hand on the other shoulder, and Elsa lets out a breath she didn't know she was holding. Everything is warm and calm. The door is open. They're together. And Anna is still asleep.
Elsa wants to wake her. But the door is open and her room is exposed at her back. The night is dark, but the room is cold and the ice is still thick on the door. She wants to shout her sister's name and tell her everything, now that there was no one to share her secret with. But lock of white hair shines even in cloudy night.
Elsa lays Anna on the hall floor, making sure she won't touch the door. She stands and steps back, nearly slipping on the new patch of ice under the doorframe. Her hand is on the door. It's halfway closed before Elsa stops. She turns into the room. Her bed is neatly made with a stack of blankets, none of which she ever needed. Elsa crosses to the bed and tugs off the topmost one, heavy and thick.
Kneeling next to Anna, she places it over her, thinking how ironic it would be if Anna woke now.
She doesn't.
Of course.
And now, before she's tempted to wake her again, before she does wake her, or freeze her, or before something else goes horribly wrong, Elsa shuts the door. She resumes her position, leaning against it, arms crossed over her knees. Anna's breathing is steady and relaxing. Elsa closes her eyes and prays for sleep. Her magic is still unsettled, but her hands are dry. The ice in her chest doesn't threaten to creep down her arms. It stays put. There's wood at her back, thick and sturdy even after the latest assault. They're safe. Anna's safe.
The door is closed.