For probablefox on tumblr, who prompted "summer rain."
It's the kind of bright day that practically drags you outside by the arm: clear blue sky, picturesque clouds, the sun shining down on the grass. In a clearing a rabbit emerges from the undergrowth, spots a particularly delicious flower, and—
"Hey!"
Scamper. Seconds later, Anna charges up the slopes, hurling a rock that, had the rabbit still been there, would have missed it entirely. "That's right, get away from that—"
She stops in her tracks, staring at the ruined remains of the crocus. "Oh."
"Well, that's just great," she huffs, throwing herself down onto the grass. "I came all the way here…"
It's been that kind of day. She'd woken up in a funk, and the fact that Elsa hadn't been at breakfast hadn't helped at all; Kristoff had tried his best—offered a ride on his sled and everything—but Anna just…hadn't been in the mood, and then he left too, so she'd gone to look for crocuses by herself, and now…
The sun chooses that moment to burn even hotter, like it's making fun of her on purpose or something. Anna glares up: at the sky, at the sun, at the massive tombstones to her left. She'd saved this place for last, in hopes that there would be at least one left, and that'd been stupid, and she'd been stupid.
The crocuses are over. She should've known.
All of a sudden her eyes prickle, and she can't stop her dumb tears from spilling down her dumb face and everything is so so unfair—unfair that rabbit had come and ruined the last crocus right in front of her, unfair that Elsa hadn't been at breakfast today of all days, seriously, unfair that today should be so nice when three years ago, three years ago it'd rained and stormed, unfair that Mama and Papa had to go to that stupid wedding in that stupid ship and then, and then—
Anna digs her fingers deep into the ground, and pulls up tufts of grass, but the tears keep coming. Unfair, unfair that Mama and Papa had died as summer was ending, when crocuses fade; unfair that Anna can't find a single thing to give them and instead is just sitting here crying like a—a baby.
Can't I be a grown up? Can't I…
There's a quiet rustle from behind, and Anna feels the temperature dip, just a little. "I thought I'd find you here."
She stares down at the grass as Elsa sink down next to her. Why weren't youhere is right on the tip of her tongue, but she swallows it back—she's not mad at Elsa, exactly, she's just.
It's just that kind of day, that's all, and Elsa hadn't been at breakfast.
"They should have told me," she says instead, and that's—probably not a better thing to say, judging from the sharp way that Elsa inhales, but well, too late now. "Or, or—they shouldn't have not."
"Anna, they couldn't have known—"
"Well, they should have!" Anna says, louder now. She still doesn't look at her sister. "Known. They're parents, they should've known what would happen. Good—good parents wouldn't have tried to keep secrets, or would have cared enough to at least tell me, or they wouldn't have shut you away in the first place—"
"Anna," Elsa says. There's a sudden harshness in her voice that makes Anna flinch, and she waits, but Elsa doesn't say anything after that, just stays perfectly, perfectly still.
"They shouldn't have left." And the words hurt coming out of her mouth, like—swallowing ice cubes or something, and she's still so bad at metaphors, but it's better than not having anything at all. "They shouldn't have—"
"Anna," her sister says again, and Anna finally looks up to see Elsa bite down on her lip before—whoa, she doesn't think Elsa's ever started a hug before, not like this; not even on that first day, after the thaw. "You're right, they shouldn't have. They should have known better. You're right."
"How come you're okay with that?" Anna demands. She's—she's crying again, and probably getting snot all over Elsa's clothes. "How come you're so calm?"
She feels Elsa's breath hitch a little, at that. "I'm not. I'm…"
It takes her so long to speak again that Anna almost starts to worry. "For a long time, I thought…I don't know. I thought that if I'd practiced leaving—you, Mama and Papa, anyone—that everyone would be better off, and that I'd—get used to it, somehow. And if things somehow weren't better, then I wasn't doing it correctly, but that's—that's all wrong. You taught me…you have to run to things, to help them at all. And, well. If you see some bad parts, and that hurts, then that's…that's alright, I think. Mama and Papa should've—known better, but. They didn't, and we're still here. I got you back, and I never thought that I would."
Anna sniffs. "Well, that was stupid of you."
Even with her head buried in Elsa's shoulder, she can picture the way her sister's face must look now—a patchwork of resigned/amused/content. (There, that metaphor hadn't been so bad.) "I know, I know."
They sit in silence for a while, and then Anna says, quietly: "All the crocuses are gone."
"They'll come back," Elsa replies, tapping her bare fingers absently against Anna's side. "They always do, in the spring, and—some of them come back in the fall, too. We can look for those in a couple of weeks. But now…"
Anna's stomach grumbles, right on cue. "Lunch," she agrees, reluctantly scooting back and hastily swiping at her eyes. "Oh, I'm a mess. I'm—"
"Hey, none of that," Elsa says, grabbing her hand and pulling her up, "It's just…it's a bad day for rain, that's all."
They make their way back to the castle, Elsa's arm around Anna's shoulder, Anna's arm around Elsa's back, and the sun shines, bright against the grass.