Musing about "what happened to the glove Anna took?"
—
Anna stomps through the open gates to the palace courtyard. The staff notices - a guard's head turns here when she passes him, a kitchen girl does a double-take, but no one comments. Perhaps the sight of Anna angry is more puzzling than Anna soaking and dripping wet on a clear, warm summer evening.
She marches up the steps, boots squelching on the carpet, on the stairs, on the wood floor. There's a trail of wet footprints and a headache for the servants, but Anna doesn't care. Kai exits the library and sees her halfway down the hall. He calls a greeting, but raises an eyebrow when she doesn't respond.
"Is Elsa in there?" she demands. Kai hesitates. He knows Elsa is most certainly in the library, struggling over a particularly difficult trade negotiation and wanting to not be disturbed. But he sees the determined gleam in her eye and the… something balled up in her fist, and he doesn't have the heart to send her away. Anna knows that his silence means yes but I'm supposed to say no and charges forward.
"I'll tell her you tried to stop me!" Anna calls over her shoulder as she barrels towards the swinging white doors. Kai shakes his head, silently relieved. The queen didn't seem to understand that sometimes when she wanted to be left alone was when she most needed her sister.
Elsa is hunched over her desk, fingers buried in her tussled hair. After the unexpected frost this summer, we cannot put stock in the consistency of Arendelle crops— she rereads the documents from Kirstensaand for the hundredth time.
The door flies open with a bang. Elsa jumps in her seat, hands slamming onto the desk. Frost skates out over the wood, toppling an inkwell. She recovers enough to snatch the letter away before the ink can spread over it.
Her frustration is plain, and Anna falters. "Sorry," she offers as Elsa freezes the ink before it can do more damage. Elsa takes a deep breath.
"I asked Kai," she chooses her words carefully, not wanting to snap at her sister. But couldn't Anna have knocked-oh-and Elsa tries to stop that line of thought and plows through her sentence. "To tell you that I had to finish this letter…" Elsa trails off, noticing Anna's appearance for the first time.
"Yeah, I passed him, he, uh… put up a good fight, but y'know how I get when I'm on a mission, like, nothing stops me—" she drops off and finishes meekly, "Don't be mad at him, okay?"
But Elsa's just staring at Anna dripping onto the library floor. "What happened?"
"You were telling me about… about everything, and I realized that I still had your glove, from the ball, the one I took" - Elsa doesn't need the explanation, she knows exactly what your glove is. "And after everything you said about growing up and 'conceal' I just kept thinking about it. I had this image of you scared and alone in your room, hoping this pair of gloves would hide your powers and I couldn't stand it." Elsa feels her own frustration melting away at Anna's anger on her behalf.
"So I grabbed it from my table and ran down the fjord and threw it as far as I could!" Anna mimes each action in turn, swiping at an imaginary glove on Elsa's desk and hurling it out the library window.
"And what, fell in?" Elsa asks with a hint of a smirk. Anna drops her arm.
"Well… yeeeessss," Anna holds the syllable. "Not… because of the throw, but cause I realized - as much as I hate this thing, you probably hate it more. Or don't hate it. I don't know. Anyway it doesn't matter how I feel about it because it's yours."
Anna opens her other hand, and there it is, crammed into a ball in her tiny fist. She sets it gently on the desk before Elsa. "I was trying to fish it out, and that's how I fell in. But I got it!"
Elsa stares at it sitting just above the trade letter on the desk. It's only damp now, probably from Anna holding onto it so tightly. She stares at it even thought she knows every stitch, every crocus, and her head is full of voices — It's only for today — Your majesty, the gloves — please, I can't live like this any more — what are you so afraid of?
Elsa can't stand to look at it anymore and her eyes fall to the parchment. The words jump out at her
—cannot trust Arendelle—
Without warning, she stands up. Anna jumps at the unexpected motion. Elsa stands there for a moment, clenching the edge of the desk and gathering her courage. In one swift movement she grabs the glove, turns, and hurls it into the fire. The flames hiss and shrink at the wet cloth, and Elsa whips them back up with an icy breeze before she loses her nerve.
"Good riddance!" Anna says. Elsa turns back to her with a small smile.
"Yes," she agrees. She looks to the letter. There will be no more surprise frosts, she composes to herself. There is nothing to fear. "Thank you."
Nothing to fear.
Anna can feel Elsa withdrawing, but in a, like, this-was-good-and-I-feel-better-but-need-some-alone-time-now way not I'm-hiding-super-secret-magic-powers-and-I-need-to-push-you-away-for-your-safety way. "Hey, anytime! You ever need any more of your possession thrown and then fished out of the fjord, you know who to call!"
Elsa laughs, but it quickly fades and she gets that contemplative look again. Anna has to ask,"Seriously, though, are you okay?"
"Yes," Elsa says so promptly that Anna doesn't want to believe her. Elsa's nodding, looking down at that letter on the desk. She blinks and seems to come out of a reverie. "Yes," she repeats, more firmly, meeting Anna's eyes, and now Anna is convinced. "I needed this. Or I guess I didn't need it." She glances over her shoulder at the fireplace, where the glove is still blackening, but not actually burning. "Oh."
"Oh yeah, it's leather, huh? Burning's gonna take forever." Elsa quirks an eyebrow, why do you know how well leather burns? but decides against actually asking. With a flick of her wrist she whips up another breeze and rescues it from the fire. It lands in her hand, charred at the edges but still whole and mostly unharmed.
"…back in the fjord?"
"Yes, please."