A/N: Shoutout to my beta, The Wandering Quill, to whom I owe my never ending gratitude for fixing this up for everyone else to enjoy. Also, tw for blood, as there's quite a bit towards the end of the chapter.
Momentum
The next time Anna wakes up, she finds herself plastered to the wall; Elsa's body a safe distance away.
The other woman is still asleep; knees curled up towards her chest and lips parted slightly. During the night, her hair had been tugged free of its braid and it loosely falls around her face, making her look…making her look really—
Anna bolts out of bed.
What the hell. What the hell.
Thoughts of how sexy Elsa looks should not be popping into her head. Not Elsa, who is a friend, goddammit.
She stalks towards the kitchen and angrily goes through the motions of making coffee. Maybe it was a dream. A really weird dream. A really, really weird dream.
That makes sense, right? Elsa doesn't seem like the kind of person who who would gently—albeit unconsciously—nestle into someone. Who would murmur her bed mate's name in her sleep for no reason. So yeah, it makes sense that what happened was just a dream, right?
But if that was the case...why would she have a dream like that in the first place?
"Arrgh." Anna's forehead hits the table with a dull thud.
That's the problem with attraction, isn't it? The moment it's out in the open, it can't just be stuffed back inside. Anna knows this, knows this all too well. She's been down this shitty road before and all it got her was a broken heart, and the vague suspicion that she was doomed to repeat her mom's mistakes.
If she was attracted to literally anyone else, this wouldn't be anything but a minor annoyance. But Elsa is the target of these stupid feelings. The Elsa she lives with, who trusts her maybe more than anyone else ever has, who is painfully amazing in every way.
Her heart feels like it's twisting in her chest and she shivers against it. Her hand clutches at her mug of coffee as she rides out the uncomfortable sensation until it passes a minute later. She rubs at the spot, wondering if she should go to the doctor or something—
"G'morning," Elsa's voice sounds from behind Anna, causing the hand holding her mug to jerk, sloshing its contents around unhappily.
"Oh, hey Elsa," Anna replies with a nervous smile, hoping her voice doesn't sound squeaky.
Elsa steps into her sight line, and Anna sees that her hair is gently mussed and one of her cheeks is imprinted with the wrinkles from her pillow. A bestiary is nestled against her chest, looking as if it belongs there. There's a small, thrilled part of Anna that really likes the idea of Elsa coming out of her bedroom after a night of sleeping next to her, that thinks it should happen more often.
A strangled sound attempts to make its way out of Anna's throat, and she redirects it to sound as if she's coughing. What is wrong with me? she panics internally, Seriously, this is not okay.
Oblivious to Anna's struggles, Elsa levels a sleepy smile at her and says, "Thanks for letting me use your bed last night. I didn't realize how tired I was." She opens the fridge and takes out some orange juice before joining Anna at the table.
Anna gives her a jerky nod. "You're always welcome in my bed." She cringes as soon as the words leave her mouth. Oh god, that was too suggestive, wasn't it?
Indeed, Elsa colors slightly at the words, immediately pushing Anna into damage control mode. "I-I mean if you want to keep reading in my room, then you should totally use the bed! It's like, right there, so the convenience is always nice. And I have no problem sleeping on the couch—"
Elsa wrinkles her nose at the thought. "I'm not going to kick you out of your own bed."
"Ha, yeah. I guess that'd be weird," Anna plays off her suggestion as casually as she can, though Elsa doesn't look like she's buying it.
Anna resists the urge to bury her head in her hands, choosing instead to down half of her coffee and hope Elsa won't pry any further. Shit, this is exactly what happened with Hans; the flighty nerves, the word vomit—and yes, she finds out when she stands and almost trips over her stool—the sudden onset of clumsiness.
She sets her half-empty mug in the sink and gives Elsa another quick, twitchy smile. "So, umm. Do you have any plans today?"
Elsa's still giving her a strange look but obliges her with an answer, "Jack said he wanted to scope out possible locations for our lessons. He wants it to be somewhere outside, where there won't be anyone to bother us. I told him that I could try and help him out."
"I know the perfect place," Anna blurts out unthinkingly. She clamps her mouth shut when she realizes what she's just done.
Elsa flashes her an excited smile. "Really?"
Anna knows how much these lessons will mean for Elsa, and she knows how important they are. Still, the next words she says aren't easy ones. She bites her lip before directing her answer to the floor. "That place I showed you after we met with Jack…where my mom trained me? I think that'd work for you guys."
That place is personal, the last piece of her mom that she really has. Anna hadn't brought any of her mom's things with her when she first moved into the apartment, thinking they'd be safer with her father. And now who the hell knows where he is, and what he did with her mom's clothes and books and pictures.
"Anna?" Elsa's soft voice brings her back to reality. Without her noticing, the other woman had slid off her stool to stand close to her.
"It's really safe," Anna continues stubbornly without knowing why, "right on the edge of the forest while still being secluded. You guys won't get any creatures or humans wandering by—"
"Anna."
"—and besides, it's not like I'm using it anymore."
There's a pause as Anna registers her blasé tone, and then she feels the blood drain out of her face. The words are a solid punch to the gut—one she didn't think she'd still feel after three years. It's stupid, that's what it is. Three years is more than enough time to not get weepy over a mom who's never coming back—
A cool hand comes up to her cheek, cradling it until Anna refocuses on Elsa. "I'm sure we can find someplace else," Elsa says, voice painfully gentle and full of understanding. "It doesn't have to be there."
Anna's breath hitches and she takes a small step back, unable to think properly with Elsa so close. Her shoulder hits the doorway of her room, stopping her progress. Elsa remains where she is, unable to keep the worry from her face. She glances down at the hand she held Anna's face with, and then back at Anna.
It's not you, it's me, Anna wants to say, but she realizes how utterly confusing those words would be right now. Instead, she tries to get her feelings in check and her thoughts in order.
After a moment, she awkwardly clears her throat. "You guys should use that spot," she says, glad to hear her voice coming out firm. "I don't want it to become some kind of empty memorial. I trained there and I think it'd be cool if you did too. I'll call Jack and see when he wants to check it out."
With that, she makes her graceless exit into her room and closes the door behind her, shutting Elsa out. Anna waits until she hears her walk away before exhaling shakily.
She can do this. She can deal with this weird Elsa thing, she can keep her mind out of the past, and she can call Jack.
But that last thought is the only one that doesn't seem completely impossible right now, so she dials his number and puts her phone to her ear.
The ride to the clearing is...not the funnest thing ever. Anna has decided to just forgo talking until her awkwardness passes, and Elsa seems confused and unhappy by the silence slowly filling the car like some kind of toxic gas. Anna tweaks the volume knob, hoping Lorde will help her make it through this ride in one piece.
Jack is already parked at the edge of the forest when Anna and Elsa arrive, leaning against the front of his car. Anna can't stop an amused huff from leaving her mouth, causing Elsa to look over at her questioningly.
Anna gestures at Jack's car. "He has a convertible. Who else in Arendelle has a convertible?" It's a rather beat-up one at that—rust is encroaching on the blue paint and there seems to be a gaping hole in the roof's fabric. Honestly, does Jack even own one nice thing?
A small smile curls around Elsa's lips. "Now that I know what he is, it does seems like he isn't very good at hiding his fae-ness."
"That's what I've been saying!" Anna exclaims, glad that someone finally agrees with her. There's a blissful pause where they look at each other, both smiling widely, and slow realization comes over Anna.
Maybe...maybe this won't be so hard after all. Maybe she can still joke around with Elsa—still give her a hard time, without stumbling over her words (or random objects) like an idiot.
Still, the car feels like it's getting smaller the longer they look at each other. "Let's...we should go see Jack," Anna says eventually, undoing her seatbelt.
"Right..." Elsa responds, though when her hand goes to her seatbelt, she grasps it tightly instead of undoing it.
Anna can see the white-knuckle grip she has on the device and despite not wanting to get too physically close to Elsa, she leans over and releases the belt from her death grip. "There's nothing to be nervous about," she says soothingly, "If anything, this will be fun. Probably." She doubts Jack subscribes to any Spartan-style training methods, but then again, who knows with him?
Elsa takes a calming breath and nods. "You're right. Nothing to worry about."
They get out of the car, Anna inhaling a lungful of the sharp winter air. Jack pushes away from his car when they near him, giving them both a nod in greeting. "I've got some books with me," he directs towards Elsa, "I'd like you to look over them when you get the chance."
She gives him a small nod but stays silent, suddenly timid. Jack raises an eyebrow and turns to Anna, seemingly for an explanation.
"It's the training," Anna says, hoping she's not stepping on Elsa's toes by saying this, "She...we don't know what to expect."
Jack stares at them for a long moment. "Oh," he finally says, lips quirking into an amused smile, "I thought we'd start today, if this place is good. I promise it won't be anything too strenuous."
"Today?" Elsa echoes faintly. "Just like that?"
Jack shrugs. "I don't see any reason to wait. Today will just be something small." He gives her an encouraging, if incredibly awkward, pat on the shoulder. "No pressure, okay?"
This time, Elsa's nod is accompanied by a small smile.
Anna's eyes shift between the two of them. "So are we going anytime soon?" she asks more impatiently than intended.
Jack gives her a too-knowing smirk. "Lead the way, Theron."
Oh, she does not like his tone.
Anna shoots him a suspicious glare but starts making her way to the clearing. She's not jealous per se, because that would be completely stupid; Jack has said he doesn't have any romantic interest in Elsa, and Elsa is gay. It's not like anything of that nature would take place between them, but she's still slightly irked.
Or—and it pains her to admit this—maybe she is jealous.
She almost gets clotheslined by a low-hanging branch, which immediately brings her back to her senses. She discretely looks over her shoulder to make sure the others didn't see her, but they're both involved in talk about ice fae.
Anna locks her gaze forward after that, silently agonizing over the fact that just yesterday she was completely fine with Jack and Elsa talking, and now it bothers her way more than it should. Crushes are the dumbest things ever.
"Here we are," she announces a minute later, spreading her arm out towards the clearing. "It's secluded, there's plenty of room for fae things, and look! There are even rocks that can double as benches! I'm telling you, this place has it all." Despite her conflicted feelings earlier, she's come to the conclusion that Elsa using this place would be for the best. Who knows? Maybe it might help Anna gain some much-needed closure about her mom—something she apparently hasn't gotten yet after three years.
Jack carefully rakes his eyes over the clearing, and soon he's walking around the perimeter, touching the stone walls and walking across the frozen pond. Elsa lingers near Anna, seemingly content with not exploring. Eventually, Jack comes back to them, looking satisfied. "This is perfect," he says with a grin. "Lydia always did have good taste."
Anna grimaces, wondering how he knew her mom used this place before. "Don't say weird things like that."
Jack holds his hands up in mock surrender before addressing Elsa. "I was thinking we could start with temperature regulation."
"What exactly does that entail?" Elsa asks cautiously, folding her arms over her chest. She's moved closer to Anna, who in turn takes a baby step away from her. She doesn't want to end up looking like a love-struck idiot in front of her and Jack.
"It's pretty self-explanatory," Jack responds easily, "using certain techniques, ice fae can regulate their internal temperature. On hot days, this will make you feel cool, and on cold days," he gestures towards Anna, "you won't have to wear all the layers Anna here does."
"So you too can wear t-shirts in the winter like a weirdo," Anna murmurs under her breath. So what if she's wearing long underwear, a hoodie, gloves, and a jacket? Even after twenty-one years of living in Arendelle, she's still miserably cold every winter.
"Would you like to wait by the cars?" Jack asks her mildly, making her out to be a misbehaving child.
Anna makes an irritated sound and stares down at the ground. She's a grown ass adult, dammit. He can take his stupid question and shove it up his—
Elsa takes a curious step towards Jack. "Are you sure I'd be able to do this? Even though I don't think I get as cold as other people, I've never felt comfortable being out in the snow unless I have a jacket on. Besides, we don't know how much of an ice fae I even am."
"Good points," Jack acknowledges with a nod. "Even though I have your blood, I've run into a slight speedbump…" he has the grace to look a little ashamed, "I currently don't have any human blood to test it against."
His eyes slide over to Anna, who vehemently shakes her head. "I'm not giving you my blood!" The very thought of watching it slowly drain out of her makes her queasy. Getting injured while hunting is expected, but she won't willingly part with her blood otherwise.
Jack looks unapologetic. "It was worth a shot." Turning back to Elsa, he continues, "Since you can create icicles and know how to heal, I'm going to assume you have enough fae in you to regulate your temperature."
"I suppose that makes sense," Elsa murmurs. She takes a deep breath and gives Jack a resolute stare. "What do I have to do?"
Anna feels pride welling up inside her; it's good to see Elsa accept Jack's help and she's glad she can be here to witness their first training session.
"Step one," Jack says, looking unusually serious, "we take off all our clothes."
Elsa makes a sputtering sound and looks between Anna and Jack with wide eyes. "Th-that's not really necessary, is it?" her voice is almost a squeak and her ears begin to redden, quickly followed by her cheeks and neck.
Anna is doing her best not to picture Elsa naked, which is proving to be pretty difficult. She already knows Elsa has smooth, pale skin, and seeing it all showcased in front of her would be—
(Awesome? Unreal?)
—completely inappropriate. Yeah, definitely that last one. Not that she can really stop her mind from going there once the idea has been planted.
"All of our training sessions will involve nudity. I thought I mentioned that last night…" Jack muses aloud, seemingly ignorant to the panic his words have caused.
Anna, who's feeling as if her cheeks are hot enough to turn snow to steam, marches over to him. "Stop messing with her!" she hisses, tugging on his jacket to bring him closer. "She's never had this kind of training before, and now you're acting like a...like a really mean person!"
Jack leans away from her to give her another punch-able smirk. "Who says it's her I'm messing with?" he says lowly so Elsa can't hear him.
Anna narrows her eyes before pushing him away in irritation. "You're the worst." She knows he's not the kind of guy to spill the beans and tell Elsa her feelings, but he's definitely the type to be an ass about it.
He laughs unexpectedly. "I really am," he says, actually sounding proud of that fact. "And Elsa, I was just joking. Clothes will remain on at all times."
Elsa glares at him, still red-faced and suspicious. "If this is the kind of treatment I can expect, I'll find someone else who can train me." There's a 'take no bullshit' tone there, and Anna nods in agreement beside her. Jack can mess with her whenever he wants, but Elsa is off-limits. Dragging her into this is pretty childish for a centuries-old fae to do.
For his part, Jack at least looks the tiniest bit apologetic. "You're right," he says, smile now gone, "it was unprofessional for me to make inappropriate jokes. I got carried away."
"It's fine," Elsa says stiffly, though Anna can't tell if it's from nervousness or residual annoyance. "Just tell me what I need to do."
Jack rubs his hands together in anticipation. "Okay, first things first: take deep, calming breaths that come from your diaphragm until you feel settled. It might help if you close your eyes."
Elsa follows his instructions, eyelids fluttering shut. Anna watches as Jack begins to circle around Elsa, moving her arms and widening her stance. "Good," he says after a couple of minutes, "The next step is to picture something that makes you feel warm. It can be anything—the sun, spicy food," his eyes move to Anna, "a person's smile. Keep that picture in your mind and imagine how it makes you feel."
As Elsa concentrates, Anna wonders what her own image of warmth would be. Jack might have been onto something with that last suggestion of his. A smile given by the right person could certainly make her feel warm. A hug would be even better.
That thought reminds her of the first hug she and Elsa ever shared—the one that had taken place right after the sigbin assignment, when Anna was still covered in blood and dazed from coming across a dead body. Elsa had absolutely no reason to give in to her request for the embrace, yet she did so with almost no hesitation.
"I...I think I feel something!" Elsa says excitedly, startling Anna out of her reverie. She turns her attention back to Elsa, who doesn't look at all different except for the happy, contagious grin on her face.
Jack looks over at her for a moment before saying, "Good, now open your eyes." Elsa's smile shrinks the moment she does so. "Your brain is trying to reconcile the differences between your internal temperature and the environment around you," he continues, as if expecting her disappointment, "The more you practice, the easier this will become."
"So to keep this up, I always have to have the picture in the back of my mind?" Elsa asks with a disappointed frown. "That seems like it would be distracting."
"You'll get used to it, and it'll become subconscious before too long. Temperature regulation is something you can practice anywhere, so I expect to hear about your progress at the next session." Jack explains, waving his index finger in a lecturing way.
"Is that it?" Anna asks, surprised at how little actually happened. "Are you already done for the day?"
"Well...yeah," Jack says like it's obvious, "I didn't want the first lesson to involve snowstorms or icicles or flying—"
"Flying?!" Elsa exclaims, eyes growing as big as saucers at the news.
"You never told me you could fly!" Anna exclaims, miffed, "That's a total game changer!" She had no idea ice fae were capable of going airborne, and the very thought of Jack floating through the air is highly amusing to her.
Jack rubs at the back of his neck. "It's been a while since I've tried to do it," he sheepishly admits, "And Elsa may not even be capable of doing it, which is why I would really like some human blood to test her against."
Anna points an indignant finger at him. "Don't change the subject! Can you...can you fly now, or like, levitate or something?" That would definitely be in her top ten coolest sights ever if he's telling the truth.
"I would really like to see that," Elsa agrees in her best 'eager student' voice. "It would be very educational."
Anna sees that Jack is close to crumbling. No surprise there—Elsa can be very persuasive with only a few words.
Anna decides to push him just a little further. "Unless you're lying to us…" she says, raising a skeptical eyebrow.
Jack throws a haughty look her way. "You really have no idea what ice fae are capable of, do you?" He looks around the clearing again, taking special care to focus on the snowy ground. He sighs in apparent defeat. "Fine, fine…I'll show you. Though you might want to shield your faces."
Elsa hurries over to stand by Anna, brimming with excitement. "I might be able to fly," she whispers to Anna, sounding like a kid who just found out Santa is real.
"I know!" Anna grins, "That would be so awesome; you wouldn't have to carpool with me anymore!"
Elsa gives her a light shove and turns her attention to Jack, who has walked off to the center of the clearing, shoulders unusually stiff. "Like I said, I haven't done this in a while…" he calls out, sounding strangely hesitant.
"It's okay!" Anna answers back, "It's not like we have any other flying people to rate your performance against. No judgment here!"
Jack nods to himself and lets out a deep breath. He closes his eyes and stretches out his hands so his palms are facing Anna and Elsa. When he opens his eyes moments later, the irises flash an electric blue.
A gust of wind rips through the clearing, nearly snatching Anna's beanie off her head. She clutches onto it with one hand and raises her other arm up to keep the snow out of her eyes. Elsa leans in close to her, her shoulder bumping against Anna's. She soon loses sight of Jack, who's been engulfed by the sudden whiteout.
It doesn't take Anna long to realize that the wind is all rushing towards Jack, leaving her and Elsa red-faced from the blast. "Look!" Elsa points towards the center of the storm, "I think I see him!"
Anna squints, trying to follow Elsa's gaze. And then she spots him; riding above the wind, t-shirt rippling and hair full of snow. He's a good fifteen feet off the ground, eyebrows scrunched in concentration until he spots them.
"I told you I could fly!" he shouts above the wind, and Anna can make out the pearly-white smile on his face as he gains more altitude. "Wanna see me do a backflip?"
He's annoyingly cocky but Anna can't help but nod excitedly. Her mouth has dropped open at some point, and a quick glance at Elsa confirms that she's in a similar state of awe.
Looking as if he's standing on solid ground, Jack bends his knees and springs backwards. But something goes awry, and the wind propping him up abruptly lessens, dropping him a few feet or so. With his head now facing the ground, he frantically waves his hands back and forth to regain some control. The wind starts cutting in and out—one moment it's so strong that Jack is propelled upwards five more feet, and the next there's hardly even a breeze.
When another whiteout makes them lose sight of Jack, Anna and Elsa run towards the center of the clearing. "Jack!" Anna yells, frantically looking around. To her left, she catches the sound of tree branches snapping and hears a surprised exclamation. The wind stops completely, leaving silence and sudden clarity in its wake.
"Oh my god…" Anna's hand flies to her mouth when she finally spots Jack.
He's dangling upside down in a tree, his leg caught in a branch. He's still swinging back and forth from the force of the wind, looking dazed.
Anna and Elsa look at each other for a long moment before they burst out laughing. "Oh my god!" Anna repeats, clutching at her stomach. "T-that was amazing!"
Elsa wipes a few tears out of her eyes, smiling widely. "I'm going to find another flying teacher, if that's okay with you, Jack."
Jack just glares at them, which only redoubles their laughing fit. Elsa leans on Anna for support, but Anna's knees buckle and they turn into a pile of cackling girls. "My rib!" Anna squeals into Elsa's scarf, "I think I broke my rib again!"
The branches above their heads shake and Jack lands on the ground with an 'oomph'. "Give me a break," he grumbles, shaking some excess snow out of his hair, "I haven't done that in like ten years."
Even as the three of them leave the clearing, Anna and Elsa can't help but burst into random fits of giggling, one of them always managing to set the other off. They part with a disgruntled Jack, promising to meet up with him again next weekend for another training session.
As they get into Anna's car, there's another exchange of smiles. "Best. Training session. Ever," Elsa says in a faux-serious voice once the car is on the road, causing them to once again laugh at Jack's expense.
"This is a problem," Anna states an hour later as she looks over her calendar. On it are all the due dates for the assignments handed out before Thanksgiving break. Only an offhand comment by Elsa about Weselton made Anna remember that she even had homework to do.
Elsa looks up from her spot on the floor. She's already nose-deep in one of the books Jack gave her, and she raises a knowing eyebrow. "You haven't done any of your work?" she guesses, though it sounds less like a question and more like a statement of fact.
"I was a bit busy this break," Anna says defensively, crossing her arms with a huff. It's the excuse she always uses, but it's a damn good one. If she's preoccupied with staying alive, homework kind of gets shoved into the far recesses of her mind. "Don't tell me you finished everything already."
"I do assignments when they're given out," Elsa says primly, close to smirking. She's changed out of her jacket, and is now wearing a soft gray cardigan that makes her eyes seem even brighter than usual.
Anna stifles a frustrated groan at the observation. Ever since they arrived back at the apartment, Anna's felt off-balance. The awkwardness that was nearly forgotten in the clearing had surged back, not helped at all by the fact that Elsa has decided to claim the floor of Anna's room as her own.
It's different here than it was in the clearing—it's their home, the place they both eat and sleep and live. The space is too intimate, too personal for Anna right now. There's absolutely no way she can focus on schoolwork with Elsa only a few feet away, looking like...well, like she always does. Anna's not a complete idiot; she's always realized her roommate is extraordinarily pretty. It's just that the last twenty-four hours have made Elsa go from 'beautiful friend' to 'beautiful friend that I want to cuddle with'.
…Yeah, there's no way she can study here.
"I think I'm going to the library," Anna finally decides, sending one more glare towards her calendar before she starts packing her books and laptop away.
"What?" Elsa asks, the playful smile from earlier fading away. "You usually study here." She places Jack's book against her knees and looks up at Anna for an answer.
Anna hurriedly zips up her backpack and gives her a helpless shrug. "I...there's just books there—at the library? And I need some of them for my conservation class." Another brilliant lie, Theron.
Elsa stares at her for a long moment, until Anna looks away guiltily. "There's something you're not telling me," Elsa deduces, standing up with a small frown. She takes a step closer to Anna, who tries her hardest not to use her backpack as a buffer between the two of them.
"There isn't anything to tell you," Anna says, trying to sound properly defensive. "I need to go to the library for a paper. Besides, a change of study space is always nice."
"The books you need...are they related to hunting?" Elsa asks unexpectedly, unconvinced by Anna's explanation.
This time, Anna's exasperation is genuine. "No! Seriously, I just need some books for a class. Not everything I do is about hunting."
"Then that settles it," Elsa says with a satisfied nod, tucking Jack's book under her arm, "I'm coming with you."
Anna nearly drops her backpack. "What?" she squeaks.
"Like you said, a change in place could be nice. Besides..." Elsa ducks her head, suddenly shy, and Anna's throat briefly runs dry at the adorable sight, "when was the last time we just hung out together like…like normal people?"
Pushing aside her feelings, Anna tries to come up with a reasonable answer. They were together on Thanksgiving, but god knows how that ended. And in the weeks before that, Elsa was busy studying and tracking down internships. Wow, maybe it really had been a while...
The longer the silence lasts, the more self-conscious Elsa becomes. She pretends to focus her attention on a small, frayed strip of fabric on her sleeve, but Anna can see her biting anxiously at her lip, sinking further into the reclusive woman she used to be before all of…this.
Like normal people...
Elsa's words hit her like a solid punch to the gut. So that's it—Elsa wants to know if their friendship had been fundamentally altered by Anna now knowing she's an ice fae. Would they only talk about the supernatural from now on, instead of Anna's questionable taste in music? Would they stop watching movies together in favor of going over bestiaries?
Would Anna still be her best friend, or would she want to keep her at a distance now that she knows what Elsa really is?
Elsa shifts her weight from one foot to another when Anna has yet to respond. "I forgot, I have something I need to do," she finally says, quiet and resigned. She heads towards the door, shoulders stiff with unhappiness. "I'll see you when you get back—"
"W-wait!" Anna exclaims, hastily snatching at Elsa's arm. "Yes! I mean…yes, of course you can come," she says earnestly, "Who else can silently judge me as well as you can?"
A tremulous smile graces Elsa's features. "It's one of my greatest skills," she replies modestly, and Anna has half a mind to playfully swat her arm.
Instead, Anna gives her a gentle push towards the door. "Get your stuff then. I wanna get out of here soon." Before I do something stupid like…
She takes a step closer, resting a hand against Elsa's hipbone. Her other hand trails over Elsa's pale, delicate neck before getting lost in soft, blonde hair. One more tiny movement brings them close enough to brush noses, for Anna to feel cool breath ghosting over her lips. All she has to do is close her eyes and commit—to this kiss, to these feelings. All she has to do is lean forward and—
...kiss you.
Anna snaps out of her fantasy, instantly feeling annoyed at herself for indulging in such a stupid thing. Thankfully, Elsa is no longer in her room, otherwise she'd be looking at a red-faced, starstruck idiot.
Running a hand down her face, Anna slumps against the wall, wondering how long she can last before she says or does something that ruins her friendship with Elsa.
At this rate, she'd probably last until the end of the week. At the latest.
Anna taps her pencil against her notebook, pretending that she isn't completely distracted by Elsa. They were lucky enough to snag a table in a secluded corner of the library, but Anna still can't seem to focus on her homework. Elsa is apparently working ahead in Weselton's class, reading and highlighting passages in a book Anna hasn't even opened. There's an adorably pinched expression on her face as she concentrates on her work, and it's impossible not to steal glances at her.
Anna rubs tiredly at her eyes. Having Elsa with her completely defeats the purpose of coming to the library in the first place—the only thing that's changed is that now she can't concentrate in her new environment.
She's already wasted two hours here, dammit! Two hours trying to focus and avoid noticing all the small details Anna had never caught before, like the little flourish Elsa does when she finishes highlighting something, or the way her tongue briefly pokes out during an extensive passage, or how her hair shifts and positively glows under the library's lights when she moves her head.
Whenever she takes a quick break from her reading, Elsa somehow manages to catch Anna staring at her like a loon. Each time, Anna gives her an awkward smile and pretends to go back to her work.
The next time it happens, Elsa puts her highlighter down with a touch of finality. Catching Anna's gaze—because of course Anna's still staring at her like a lovestruck idiot—she whispers, "Is everything okay?"
Anna lets out a laugh that's a little too loud. "Yeah," she answers with a spastic wave of her hand, "why wouldn't I be?"
"You were staring at me," Elsa states in curiosity, propping her elbows on the table and leaning in slightly.
You're very stare-at-able. "Sorry!" Anna says, grasping for a decent excuse as she discreetly leans away, "I was just...you know, spacing out. Thinking. And my eyes just landed on you?"
"Why is that a question?" Elsa asks, a small, amused smile curling onto her perfect lips.
Anna just gapes at her for a long moment before looking down at her hands. Why does she have to be so bad at lying? Why can't she just turn off these stupid, stupid feelings?
A sudden chill creeps down her spine, making her shiver. Another follows soon after, and goosebumps begin popping up on her arms. Anna cranes her neck upwards, wondering if she's sitting under a vent…but no, there's nothing except the annoying bright lights.
She sighs and glances towards Elsa, who's still peering at her with equal parts curiosity and amusement over her book. "Do you want some tea or hot chocolate?" Anna asks after an awkward moment of staring back. A hot drink will probably stave off her chills and give her time to clear her head of all things Elsa-related.
Elsa narrows her eyes in thought as she considers her options. "A chai would be nice," she responds eventually, "thank you."
Anna gives her a weary nod and stands up, heading towards the coffee shop on the first floor. The cold feeling follows her, spreading further in her limbs as she places her order of tea and coffee.
But by the time she receives her drinks, she's feeling somewhat normal again, though the caffeine will still help her power through her homework. When she rounds the last corner before their table, Anna finds herself slowing to a stop.
Elsa is in the same place as before, still reading and highlighting in her book. It's strange, Anna thinks to herself as she observes the other woman from afar. Elsa hasn't changed at all in the last day, but somehow she seems so different.
Before, it was like Anna was looking at Elsa through some gauzy, opaque material. Now that the metaphorical blindfold is off, Anna can really see her. And what she sees is a woman who is fiercely protective of her, who always has Anna's best interests at heart. Someone who healed her despite the danger it could have put her in, and who is kind and funny and beautiful.
In that wonderful moment, Anna is so happy she knows Elsa.
Willing her feet to move, Anna all but glides back to their table—sliding Elsa's chai towards her and drawing the other woman's attention away from her book. "You owe me twenty-seven dollars," she says, the serious tone contrasting with the silly grin on her face.
Elsa's eyebrows shoot up in surprise as she takes her drink. "Has the price for tea really gone up that much?" she asks, playing along with a smile.
"I charged you extra for the labor it took me to get it," Anna replies, sticking her tongue out and receiving a feigned huff of annoyance in return. Even if Elsa isn't romantically interested in her, it doesn't mean Anna is going to stop being her friend. It'll be difficult—if this day was any indication—but she'll be whatever Elsa needs her to be.
The rest of the night goes by quickly, though Anna is not pleased with the quality of her work. Her mind wandered too much, and her coffee didn't help as much as it usually did. By the time she and Elsa pack up to leave, Anna is exhausted and pretty sure the grades on her homework will be mediocre at best.
After Anna starts her car, Elsa turns to face her, biting her bottom lip. "Are you free tomorrow night? I was wondering if you wanted to finally watch that cheesy eighties movie together; the one you mentioned way back?"
Anna's heart flip-flops uncomfortably in her chest at the words—for a moment it's easy to pretend that Elsa is asking her on a date. Reality quickly settles in though, and Anna shakes her head. "Actually, no. As much as I'd like to see Kurt Russell bust up Chinatown, I have my psych appointment at five."
"Psych appointment?" Elsa echoes, clearly sounding confused. Her brow furrows worriedly.
"For killing the shifter," Anna rushes to clarify, "The first time someone kills a Level One, they have to attend a therapy session to make sure they're mentally healthy. Sometimes the experience can be a bit...overwhelming." She's heard stories—feral werewolves ripping people apart in front of hunters, vampires killing entire families because of insatiable bloodlust, rogue hunters who are convinced that everyone around them isn't human...thankfully Anna's experience never came close to any of those.
Out of the corner of her eye, she sees Elsa's hand move towards her, only to settle back in her lap. "And...you're okay?" she asks hesitantly.
"Yeah, I guess." Anna shrugs. "I mean, it won't be the first time I've had to see a therapist." Her eyes widen when she absorbs what just slipped from her lips. A nervous laugh bubbles out of her throat. "Umm, can you just pretend I didn't say that?"
But the damage is already done—this time, Elsa's hand finds Anna's arm and gives it a comforting squeeze. "You don't have to tell me if you don't want to," Elsa says softly, and Anna is reminded yet again of how utterly lucky she is to have this amazing woman by her side.
Anna takes her eyes off the road for a moment to give Elsa an appreciative smile. "Thanks," she says quietly, though she knows just that isn't enough. For the time being, Elsa can come to her own conclusions.
The first day back to school after Thanksgiving break moves at a snail's pace. She's disappointed to learn that Kristoff isn't in Weselton's class; when she texts him, he says he skipped out on it to spend the morning with the trolls. Rolling her eyes affectionately, Anna fires off a text informing him they have a lot to catch up on when they see each other again.
It turns out that sitting next to Elsa while Weselton drones on for an hour isn't complete torture, though it's close. In addition to accidentally brushing against Elsa's hand on their shared armrest on more than one occasion, there's also the fact that their professor is still giving them hostile looks. By the fifth glare, Anna idly wonders if she can get Elsa to blow his toupee off again.
She fares better in her other classes, though Dr. Mowgli's raised eyebrow when she turns in her pitiful looking essay is enough for her to regret how she spent the break. Maybe devoting just a little more time to her studies wouldn't be a bad idea (though for the record, she still blames Elsa for the shabby quality of last night's work).
By the time she pulls up to Dr. Westin's office, she's feeling...okay. She isn't nervous about her impending appointment, since there's nothing to truly worry about. Her boss said it would only take one perfunctory meeting for her to be cleared and out hunting again.
Almost as soon as she gives her name to Westin's secretary, she's led into his office. It's a surprisingly small space, containing only a desk, two chairs, and a rather old couch. Framed degrees hang on the wall and on the far wall is a bookshelf filled with thick texts. Westin is seated behind the desk, and he stands when she enters the room. Without his bulky winter coat, he looks surprisingly thin and lanky, with dark hair that seems to be slowly creeping up his scalp.
"Ms. Theron," he greets her with a quick, firm handshake, "you're looking much better."
She slides into one of the chairs, giving him a slightly embarrassed smile as she recalls how bloody and beaten she was. "I certainly hope so."
"How have you been feeling since then?"
"Oh, you know…" Anna waves a dismissive hand through the air, "kinda tired, a little sore. Otherwise, I'm doing fine."
"And mentally?" he inevitably prompts her.
"I'm fine," she says again, her voice firm. "The situation with the shifter...it was really awful, but I made it through okay." I've been through worse.
Westin takes notice of her pensive expression and changes the topic. "How long have you been hunting?"
Anna stares at the wall behind him, furrowing her brow. "About five years total, with three of them being solo. Though if a case is too much, I'll still get some help."
"Who usually helps you?"
"My friend Kristoff. He's a really great hunter and I've known him since we were in diapers." That reminds her, she'd have to make sure he had those sweet potato leftovers he promised her…
"Why did you decide to become a hunter?" Westin asks, and from her peripheral, she can see him scribble something down on a piece of paper, tone remaining clinical.
Anna has to think about that one for a moment, her gaze drifting back down to him. "Because my parents both did it, I guess. I was raised to be a hunter. I don't want to be a Level One or anything, but for the time being it's a good way to support myself."
"Why aren't you interested in being a Level One?" The question seems innocuous enough, but it feels like it's edging into the reason why she's here in the first place.
She could give a hundred different lies, but she knows that's not how therapy works. If she lies, the only person she'll hurt in the long run is herself. "I would feel uncomfortable hunting Level Ones," she quietly admits, "especially those who may have family or loved ones. And there's so much more danger involved—it's just not something I'm interested in dealing with."
Westin nods like that makes sense. "I've looked through your hunting record; it's very impressive," he states, taking time to splay out more papers on his desk. "I believe you'd have the makings of a good Level One if you were interested."
Not knowing how to respond to that, Anna simply waits for him continue, wondering where he's going with this. "That being said..." Westin's chair creaks as he shifts his position. "Since the night of the shifter, have you had any nightmares?" Direct and to the point.
"No, but that's—" That's because she's been either been dead tired or sharing a bed with Elsa. She hasn't really given herself a lot of time to think about the shifter and how it looked, with its dark blood splattered across the white snow. Though now that she is thinking about it, she can't help but see how closely the shifter resembled another, much more painful death. "No," she repeats in a quieter voice, hand tightening around her armrest.
Westin's stare feels like it's boring into her skull, trying to look for the answers he wants to hear. "I'm wondering how you felt about the shifter's final transformation," he says after a slight pause.
"You...you mean its human form?" Anna asks, more to give herself time to think rather than for clarification.
Westin just stares expectantly at her, blinking once behind his glasses.
"I knew it wasn't really a woman," Anna says, unsure of what he wants. "No matter its transformation, I never forgot what it really was."
"Still, that must have been painful for you to witness," Westin muses, straightening up in his seat and leaning his elbows on his desk, "considering the circumstances of your mother's death."
The air suddenly feels thinner and Anna stiffens. "She has nothing to do with this," she replies sharply, "Nothing at all." She should have known there was a chance of him bringing up her mom's death, but it's still a topic she doesn't want to talk about too much.
"Right," Westin says slowly, dark eyes full of understanding, "but your mother died in a similar fashion, didn't she?"
Anna's teeth grind together, the muscles in her jaw pulling taut. They stare at each other, Anna staying silent so she doesn't say something she'll regret.
After a few tense moments, Westin finally moves the conversation forward. "Earlier today, I received the files from your previous therapist, Dr. Marek." He says nothing after that, leaving Anna to wonder if she's supposed to fill in the silence.
"Those sessions were mandated as well," she eventually says, relaxing slightly. After her mom's death, she was forced to meet with a therapist once a week for nearly two months before she was cleared to hunt again. She sincerely hopes that won't happen this time—she would be fine with never seeing Westin again after today.
"You were going through a very difficult situation at the time," he starts, a frown crossing his face for the first time since she's stepped into his office. "Quite frankly, I'm somewhat surprised that Dr. Marek ended the sessions so early."
Now it's Anna's turn to frown. "What do you mean?" she asks, puzzled by this new information. "He told me that I had made more than enough progress." She hadn't particularly liked Marek, but she had opened up to him about the feelings regarding her mom at the time.
Westin's frown thins for a moment. "Perhaps I was speaking out of line," he admits, though he doesn't seem convinced by what he's saying.
Anna feels a surge of defensiveness at his doubt. "I'm not saying I'm completely fine. I still think about my mom every day. I still can't stand the sight of blood when it's coming out of people; I don't even want to walk by the blood donation buses on campus. But I am better...so much better than I was before," she says firmly, because she needs him to believe that. "And with the shifter...the only way you can kill it is to make it bleed out. I had no other choice."
"Okay," he says in a placating manner, leaning back in his chair, "I think we'll be fine ending the session here, unless there's anything else you'd like to talk about."
The abruptness of his statement takes Anna by surprise. There's a lot she could talk about with him; how her father left her, how Hans cheated on her so soon after that, how Elsa is making her feel things she really wishes she wasn't...but she finds that she can't open up about those things.
At least…not yet. Not with him.
"I'm fine," she answers, the words sounding hollow in her own ears.
Westin gives her one last shrewd look before nodding. "Alright, then. While I don't think killing the shifter will affect your ability to hunt, I do want you to know that my door will always be open if you want to talk about your mother or anything else."
Anna nods mutely, standing up when he does the same. He rounds the desk to shake her hand one last time, and leads her to the door. "It was nice meeting you, for real this time," he says, smiling slightly.
She smiles back at him out of reflex, though it feels unnatural. When she walks to her car and slips into her seat, she finds that the smile is still there, hanging to her like the frost on the windshield—temporary, brittle and a paltry imitation of the real thing.
That meeting certainly wasn't what she expected; it feels like she barely even talked about the shifter. Why her mom had to be the main topic of conversation, Anna isn't sure. All she knows is that she left feeling far more agitated than when she first came in.
When she returns home, she barely registers Elsa's presence in the hallway when she passes her. It's not until Elsa repeats her name that Anna focuses on her. "Oh, hey," she absently greets her.
Elsa leans against the wall, looking over Anna in concern. "How was your session?" she asks gently, but carefully.
"It was…" Anna briefly purses her lips into a thin line, trying to find the appropriate word for it. Upsetting? Shitty? Completely unhelpful? "It kinda sucked, actually."
Elsa's features soften with empathy, and Anna vaguely wonders if she had her own experience with this sort of thing before…considering her own mother's death. Elsa takes a few steps closer until she's standing only a couple of feet away, and softly asks, "Do you want to talk about it?"
Anna shakes her head, though she's no less appreciative of the concern. "Not really. I think I'm just going to call it a night."
"But you haven't had dinner yet," Elsa points out, her eyebrows drawing together.
"I'm not really hungry," Anna murmurs, finding it to be the truth. Despite the fact that she hasn't had anything to eat since lunch, it feels like she's almost uncomfortably full. Even the very idea of food makes her feel queasy. "I'll just…I'll see you in the morning, okay?"
Elsa is still looking worried, but she nods all the same. Her furrowed brow and concerned frown are the last things Anna sees before she closes her bedroom door. Without even bothering to take off her jeans or jacket, she curls up on her bed and stares at the mess of bestiaries on her desk until her heart hurts and her eyes grow heavy.
"Anna, p-please…" a familiar voice drifts through the still air of the forest, "Please help me."
It's the shifter from before; naked and bloody and missing its left hand. Anna stares at it from her place against the tree, in a haze from her own injuries. "How do you know my name?" she asks weakly, confused and feeling like she's about to get sick with how violently her stomach is churning.
"It's me," the creature pleads, meeting Anna's eyes with its own nearly-black ones. "You know me." Its back arches, rising completely off the ground and it lets out a scream of agony that Anna feels deep in her bones.
The shifter changes into a very different woman—one wearing a bright blue blouse, beige pants, and sturdy hiking boots. Straight hair gains the barest hint of curls as black lightens to copper. Skin becomes paler and the eyes flash a familiar green as it meets hers.
The pain is still evident in its new form, and recognition brings a wave of panic crashing against Anna. "Mom?" she whispers, the word barely making it past her lips.
A new injury appears along the side of Lydia's neck—a deep gash that causes blood to arc from it like a fountain. She gasps, attempting to stop the bleeding with her hands, but the grisly mess seeps through her fingers and splatters onto the snow around her, staining it crimson.
"Mom!" Anna cries out, immediately stumbling in her direction. She falls down, broken ribs curving inwards towards her lung. She can't think clearly through the pain and the panic, and bile begins clawing its way up the back of her throat at the bloody sight in front of her.
"Ahh...Anna. S-stay calm, I'll be—" Lydia's words cut off as her throat seems to collapse, a wet gurgle bubbling out of her lips instead. She begins to thrash around as her body enters its death throes, the hand pressing around her neck utterly coated in obscene, glistening red.
Panting, her vision beginning to blur with tears, Anna finally manages to crawl over. Trying to remember her training, she places a shaky hand over her mom's wrist, feeling a weak pulse churning out more and more blood. Her mom's eyes are staring straight up at the stars, glassy and unblinking.
"Not...not yet, mom," Anna nearly sobs, fingers trembling uncontrollably and sliding across red, slick skin. "Help is coming. J-just hold on a little longer…"
There's no response, and soon the blood draining out of Lydia's neck slows to a trickle. Anna lifts her hand away from the gash and looks helplessly down at the body that once held her mom.
The forest feels like it's closing in around her, and her frantic breaths quickly become tiny and shrill to the point where it's difficult to breathe. She clutches at her head with her bloody hands, stained with the horrible consequences of her mistake.
This...this is her fault. She could have prevented this, could have done things differently. It didn't have to be this way...it didn't...it didn't—!
Unable to take it anymore, Anna leans back on her knees and screams.
"—Wake up, Anna! Please, get up!" Elsa's voice slams into Anna like a freight train and her eyes fly open.
She's back in her room; the light turned on and Elsa leaning over her, one arm on either side of her pillow. Blue eyes worriedly stare into hers, fear flashing through them.
Anna takes a heaving breath, blinking sweat out of her eyes as her mind tries to reorient itself. The details of the dream rushing back to her; with a sinking heart, she realizes what just happened."Thanks for waking me up," she gasps, knowing she must look like a wreck. She kicks the covers off, forcing Elsa to abruptly stand up and step away from the bed to give her room.
"What are you doing?" Elsa asks as Anna begins searching under books and papers for her phone. "You were screaming, Anna. God, it looked like you were having a seizure! Are you going to tell me what that was about—"
"No," Anna says shortly as she starts looking for her car keys as well, "I'm going out."
She needs Kristoff now, like she always does after one of these nightmares. Which...damn, this is the first one she's had in over a year. This better not be the start of some sort of relapse. So much for therapy helping her—all it did was dredge up her worst memory and add even more horror to it.
After Anna retrieves her phone and car keys, she turns to find Elsa blocking her doorway. "You told me you weren't going to lie to me anymore," she says stubbornly, crossing her arms. In her cotton shorts and overly-large sleeping shirt, Elsa looks anything but threatening. But of course, she's not trying to look threatening; she looks like she's worried and just wants answers.
"Then it's a good thing I'm not lying," Anna snaps back, because she is tired and thought she was done with having these kinds of conversations with Elsa. The flash of hurt passing across Elsa's face, though quickly stifled, has Anna immediately feeling like crap. "I...I'm going to Kristoff's," she hastily explains, tone far less curt than before.
"There's nothing I can do?" Elsa quietly asks, and Anna nearly winces at the lingering hurt in her voice. "You can't just stay here...with me?"
The idea of being comforted by Elsa is a really nice one, but she and Kristoff already have a foolproof system in place for situations like this.
"I'm sorry," Anna says, her voice cracking. She swallows hard, clutching her phone and keys tighter in her hands, and pushes past the other woman. "I can't do this right now."
Before she can have any second thoughts about not staying home, Anna dials Kristoff's number and presses her phone to her ear as the door closes behind her. It takes a painfully long time for him to pick up, but he eventually does and Anna loves him for it.
"Hello?" his groggy voice crackles through the speaker, "What's up?"
Anna stares down at her feet, trying to swallow the lump in her throat. "Hey, Kristoff," she says softly. "I'm really sorry to call you but I...I had a nightmare." The words sound so juvenile that Anna can't help but grimace as she opens her car door.
There's silence on the other end of the line as she slides into the driver's seat, then a rush of static as Kristoff exhales. "Are you on your way over?" he asks, sounding a little more awake now. Anna can hear some rustling on the other end and imagines he's getting out of bed.
Anna bites her lip, hesitating. "Not yet. I didn't want to be presumptive. I mean, I know you just got back and it's the middle of the night so—"
"Anna," Kristoff's voice is firm when he cuts her off, "come over."
Her shoulders relax, as does the grip on her phone. "Thank you," she says tremulously before hanging up.
Before she heads over to his place, before she even turns on the car, she gives herself three minutes. Three minutes to let out her frustration against that stupid fucking dream and how it ended—how they always end when they involve her mom. Three minutes to bang her fists against the steering wheel and scream and cry.
When she's done, her eyes are red-rimmed, though her hands don't stop shaking until she pulls onto the main road.
Kristoff wordlessly hands her a mug of steaming hot chocolate and sits next to her on the couch. He's wearing a pair of baggy sweatpants and a shirt he's had since he was seventeen, blond hair sticking up in every direction.
"This is the first one I've had in over a year." Anna says bleakly, tilting her head back to stare at the ceiling. They're the first words she's spoken since she's arrived, and hearing them out loud makes her feel uncomfortable.
Would this be the second coming of new, even more horrific nightmares?
"Why do you think you had it?" Kristoff asks conversationally, sipping at his own drink. That's the thing about Kristoff—he's the only one who knows how to help Anna after these bad dreams. He was always straightforward and honest when it came to her issues with her mom. In the months after she died, Anna was practically living at his place.
Anna resettles herself against the cushions, because this is going to be a long story. She fills him in on everything he's missed over break: the meetings between Jack and Elsa, the fight with the shifter and how she and Elsa revealed each other's secrets, and the therapy session that ultimately proved to be detrimental.
Through it all, Kristoff listens carefully and displays all the emotions a captivated audience should—when Anna recalls Jack's failed attempt at flight, he laughs loud enough to wake up Sven.
"So that's everything, huh?" Kristoff shakes his head incredulously as Sven settles back down for sleep, growling softly in what Anna assumes to be annoyance. "I'm gone for less than a week and miss all the good stuff. The only thing I don't get is why you had the nightmare tonight rather than right after the shifter. Was it only because Westin brought up the similarities between the shifter and your mom?"
Anna frowns in thought. She herself had seen the similarities between the two deaths, but even then she still hadn't had any bad dreams. "Well," she slowly begins, "the night I got back, I was dead tired. And I slept with Elsa last night—"
Kristoff's eyebrows shoot up to his hairline. "Wait, what?!"
"I didn't mean it like that!" Anna exclaims, immediately trying to backpedal. "We just shared my bed! Elsa was tired and I was trying to be nice, but then...but then…" Oh hell, this isn't how she wanted to tell Kristoff about this, but she's already in too deep. "I realized that I liked Elsa. In more than a friendly sort of way. I mean...maybe I've subconsciously known for a while but it didn't become apparent until last night."
Kristoff's reaction is completely unexpected.
He suddenly stands up, and the hand not holding his mug thrusts skyward in an enthusiastic fist pump. "I knew it!" he crows, a triumphant gleam in his eyes even as Sven gives a sleepy bark in their direction. "Have you told her yet, or did she tell you? I bet she was the first to confess. She confessed first, didn't she?"
Confusion overrides any amusement she finds at Kristoff's response. "What are you talking about?" A strange buzzing fills her head, and the distant part of her she's tried to ignore screams that she already knows the answer.
Kristoff looks down at her, grinning in an infuriatingly smug way. "I already know she likes you. Hell, she's probably liked you since before you knew she even existed. So has anything happened yet? Have you, you know…" he waggles his eyebrows suggestively, "kissed yet?"
The buzzing grows louder, more insistent, as she feels the blood leave her face. "Elsa doesn't like me," she says in confusion, as if Kristoff just told her that two plus two is five and the moon is made of cheese. "Why would she like me?"
The very thought is a strange one, and something that hasn't even crossed her mind in all of this. She's already resolved to preserving her friendship with Elsa, and she wasn't going to push for anything further, because doing so would end with both of them getting hurt.
Kristoff deflates slightly at her response, shaking his head. "You...don't think she likes you?" he repeats slowly, the words not seeming to compute in his mind. Putting his mug aside, he kneels down and grabs Anna's shoulders like he's trying to shake some sense into her. "Anna, she adores you. It's obvious to anyone with a pair of eyes."
"Then I guess mine must be defective," Anna retorts, shaking his hands off. "Just because she's gay doesn't mean she likes me."
Kristoff blinks in surprise, the ghost of a smile on his lips. "I didn't even know if she was gay or bi or anything else. I just thought she was Anna-sexual."
Anna cringes at the word. "Don't say things like that; it's not funny."
"For the love of—" Kristoff runs an impatient hand through his hair. "I'm not trying to be funny or make light of your feelings. I'm telling you the truth," he earnestly insists, "Something I probably should have done earlier. I guess I thought you'd figure it out for yourself."
Anna looks him over; at how imploring and bright his eyes are, and how flushed his cheeks have become. He's really telling the truth, she realizes. Which is...which means…
"Oh god," Anna groans, bringing her knees up to her chest and allowing her forehead to fall against them. "Holy shit."
This makes things worse—so much worse than they could've been.
"Whoa, there." She feels Kristoff sit on the couch again, and a hand begins to rub soothing circles along her back. "What's wrong? You both like each other; this is a good thing!"
"It's really not," Anna mumbles into her knees. She lifts her head to look at Kristoff. "It's actually the worst."
To Kristoff's credit, he doesn't roll his eyes or blow her off with a sarcastic remark. Instead, he fixes her with an inquisitive look, lips pursed into a thin line. "What's really bothering you about this?"
"I just…" Anna shrugs helplessly, unsure of how to start. "I don't want a relationship. I know I said I'd probably try to date again, but maybe I was lying to myself."
Kristoff's gaze hardens. "This is because of Hans, isn't?" he asks lowly. From his place on the floor, Sven growls at the name. "What he did was despicable and you deserve so much better than that. Elsa is nothing like him; she's a good person and she thinks the world of you."
The conviction in his words warms something inside of her. But still… "You say she likes me, that she," Anna blushes at the very idea, "adores me, but I never saw that. What is that supposed to mean?"
Kristoff chuckles, shaking his head. "It means you're probably the least observant person in the world. You weren't looking for any signs of romance from her because you were already so sure they didn't exist. But the way she looks at you...how she seems to brighten whenever you talk or touch her...yeah, the signs are there."
Is that really true?
Anna thinks back to how far Elsa's come since they first met—how she would barely even look at her, and is now initiating hugs and comforting touches. How Elsa sometimes blushes around her; how a shy smile sometimes curves to her lips; how blue eyes linger longer than necessary—
"Maybe you're right," she reluctantly admits, "Maybe I am an idiot."
"That's more like it!" Kristoff says cheerfully, grinning broadly. "So, did you want to stay the night?"
The question reminds her of how late it is, and how soon school will be starting. She stands up and begins to put her jacket back on. "I think I'll be fine for the night. This really wasn't what I was expecting when I came over, but I do feel better. Sort of." I haven't really thought much about the dream since I came here, so I guess that's a good thing...
Kristoff walks her to the door, absentmindedly stretching out his arms along the way. "Let me know if you need anything," he says, squeezing her shoulder as he gives her an encouraging smile. "And with Elsa...just try to see for yourself."
When she returns home, she finds Elsa sitting against the wall of her room. For once, there's no bestiary with her; she's just staring down at her hands in thought. She seems to startle when Anna comes into her sightline.
"What are you doing in here?" Anna asks as she takes her jacket off, surprised to hear how flat her voice sounds. She was a bundle of nerves on her way back here, stuck between denial and acceptance of Elsa's feelings for her. She's too tense to have a conversation with her right now—what she needs is some time to reflect on Kristoff's words before she sees Elsa again…though now that plan has been unintentionally ruined.
Elsa quickly stands up, brushing a loose strand of hair away from her face. "I was waiting for you," she says it like it's obvious.
Just like old times.
The thought has Anna frowning. "I said I was going to Kristoff's. You could've gone back to sleep."
She watches Elsa's face carefully, and sees both hurt and confusion flicker over her features. "I know," Elsa says quietly. She squares her shoulders, an unexpected glint of steel in her eyes.
"And I know you and Kristoff have a lot of history, but…" She swallows hard before continuing, gaze never leaving Anna's, "I want to be someone you come to when you need help. I can be that person, if...if you want."
The words have Anna wanting to bolt out of the apartment because of how heartfelt they are. Instead, she finds herself shaking her head almost frantically. "You don't want that," she says weakly, "you don't know everything."
"Then tell me!" Elsa exclaims, moving close—too close—to her. "The only reason I don't know everything is because you won't tell me. I don't want to butt in where I don't belong, but if something is hurting you, causing you nightmares, I can help—I want to help. "
"You can't!" Anna explodes, fists clenching at her sides. "Because after three years I still have nightmares about my mom! That's beyond help, Elsa."
The silence that follows her outburst is suffocating, and not even taking in a lungful of air can stop Anna from shaking. From what, she's not entirely sure.
She flinches when she feels Elsa's hand on her shoulder, guiding her towards the bed. Elsa sits down beside her, that same hand trailing down her arm to gently hold hers. The coolness flowing out of Elsa's hand calms Anna down a little, but it's not nearly enough.
"What happened?" Elsa asks softly, her voice patient and soothing.
There's a part of Anna that still wants to run, to snap at Elsa and tell her that this doesn't concern her. But she's exhausted, and maybe she needs Elsa's comfort more than she'd like to admit.
"My mom died in the summer before I started college," Anna finally starts, her free hand clutching at her knee. Her eyes stare straight ahead, towards her bookshelf and all the items there that used to belong to her mom. "We were hunting a centicore, which...it's not even that dangerous, really. Practically a deer with horns instead of antlers. It should've been an easy relocation but then…"
Anna pauses, takes a shuddering breath. "Mom was checking over the knots we tied over the horns. Centicores can move them in any direction, almost like they're whips. But...one of the knots was loose and...my mom, she was leaning over him. The horn sliced into the side of her neck, tearing right through her carotid. There was...there was so much blood, Elsa. So much, all over the place. I was next to her and it splashed on my face, in my mouth…"
Her grip on Elsa's hand causes her knuckles to turn white, but she can't seem to let go. "Hunters are trained in field medicine. I always did well in the classes but I just...I lost my mind seeing her like that." She pauses again, trying to keep her breathing even. "I did everything wrong. Instead of trying to stop the bleeding, I started screaming and cursing. I couldn't focus enough to call for a medic for about a minute."
Anna sniffles, wiping at her nose. Her voice grows thicker with each word. "By the time I finally called for help, she had lost consciousness. I was told to put my fingers in her neck, see if I could slow the bleeding. But it didn't work—" Tears are running down her face now, and she wonders if Elsa can even understand what she's saying. "She was gone before the medic arrived and I couldn't move. Half of my arm was covered in blood—her blood—and I couldn't…I just couldn't move away."
When Elsa moves to wrap her arm around her shoulders, Anna jumps up like she's been shocked. She's back in the present now, not in the forest on that warm summer day. She wipes at her face with the back of her arm and finds herself looking at Elsa.
She hasn't moved from the bed, and to Anna's shock, her eyes are gleaming with unshed tears. "I'm sorry," Elsa whispers. "I'm so sorry you had to go through that. It wasn't your fault, though. You know that, right?"
The phrase resonates inside of her, and pulls up memories of all the people who had ever used it.
"Yeah, it was," Anna says tiredly, "Because even if the loose knot wasn't my fault, I still fucked up—I wasted time while she was bleeding. So yeah, in the end, it was my fault." She chuckles emptily. "Everyone's told me otherwise, though. Everyone except…"
Her father.
He never explicitly blamed her, but he never comforted her with that trite statement, either. Come to think of it, he never comforted her at all.
"I lost my mom too, you know," Elsa says suddenly. Her voice has gone shaky and Anna hopes she isn't going to cry. "Six years ago. It still hurts, and it will every day. But we're getting through this the best we can, alright? If you ever need to lean on me, I'm…I'm here."
"Why do you care so much?" Anna spits out, turning away to stare at the floor. The words are hollow, and mean-spirited. She doesn't intend to be so harsh, but she can't help pushing against Elsa's declaration; to see if her words are truly genuine.
She draws her gaze back up to Elsa, and for the first time since they started living together…she sees.
It's in the way Elsa's eyes widen slightly and her lips part. It's in the way Elsa looks at her and responds, "Because I care about you," in a voice that's so soft and gentle, Anna's afraid she might break from the unspoken weight behind it.
It's so much more than just mere like. No, no, Elsa doesn't like her. Elsa...Elsa loves—
"We should get some sleep," Anna says, dazed from her revelation. The room is tilting around her and her legs can't stop trembling, threatening to collapse beneath her.
It's clearly not the response Elsa expected, and for a moment she looks so desperately unhappy that Anna wants to hug her. But her feet are firmly rooted in place, and she can't do anything but watch as Elsa stands up to walk out of her room.
"Elsa—" Anna calls, because she can't let her leave on this note. "You can...you can lean on me, too. And thank you. For listening."
The unhappy look changes into something bright and beautiful, smoothing out the worry lines and making her eyes shine. It culminates in a smile that has Anna's heart twisting inside her. "Thank you, Anna, for telling me." She quietly closes the door after she steps out, leaving Anna alone.
For a long time after that, Anna can't move, despite how cold and tired she is.
Elsa loves me.
A shiver wracks her body as she finally stumbles towards her bed.
Elsa loves me.
She pulls the covers up to her ears, curling her knees towards her chest.
Elsa loves me.
Glossary-
Centicore (creature that killed Anna's mom)- I changed the description to be a little less menacing, partly because Anna is really downplaying how dangerous it is. In legend, it's known to eat basilisk eggs and is roughly the size of a hippo. It rarely attacks people without provocation, but will defend itself when touched. Its horns can move independently in any direction.