QUICK NOTES:
Scholar of Justice brought something up in a review (huzzah!) that might require clarification for other readers. It has to do with Kristoff assuming that the princess would have to marry someone of royal or aristocratic lineage. Here's what I shared with Scholar of Justice, who was very gracious. I don't claim to make sense. Making sense is not particularly one of my strong points:
My thinking was that, while Elsa could very well do whatever she wants in terms of handling her sister's future, Kristoff wouldn't know that. Since the chapter is told pretty much from his perspective, and since Kristoff is a broody type who's disinclined to get his hopes up, the idea of Anna being made to marry in this way is not outside the realm of possibility. At least, in his mind.
So while I, the writer—and probably you all, the readers—know that Elsa will likely be a progressive ruler and will put the needs of her sister above those of propriety or convention, Kristoff doesn't.
Anyhoo. I like this upcoming chapter for some reason. Hope you do, too.
Arendelle and its peeps aren't mine.
Chapter 4
Elsa could pinpoint the exact moment her sister found out about the queen's latest order, because the rare stillness of morning was interrupted by a sudden—and most unladylike—cry of rage. Sighing, she seated herself to wait before the cold fireplace in her personal quarters. Pale sunlight filtered in through the windows. Outside, the sky held blue and clear in spite of the travesty below.
The village itself was quiet—awfully, eerily quiet. Elsa had spent a fair portion of each day visiting the afflicted and their unfortunate families. She'd seen firsthand the suffering that this fever caused, and though she vowed never to abandon her kingdom for the sake of her own skin, she couldn't help but act selfishly when it came to that of her sister.
As if on cue, Anna burst through the door without knocking. Elsa winced and braced herself for the onslaught.
"What," demanded the princess, "can you possibly be thinking?"
"Anna—"
"This is a mistake, right?" she continued, without waiting for a response. "Obviously some sort of, I don't know, miscommunication?"
"Will you just—"
"Because there is no way—no way—my sister would close the castle gates again. Not at a time like this. Not ever."
Anna's cheeks burned. Her hair escaped in feral threads from its two poorly woven braids, and she appeared to be wearing only one shoe. The other was clutched in her right hand, and this she waved haphazardly as she spoke. Elsa flinched.
"Anna," she began, but then paused. What could she say? What could she possibly say to make things better? How could she ever make this right?
The answer was obvious: she couldn't.
They stared at each other, Elsa hiding her frigid hands in the folds of her dress, Anna breathing heavily into the descending chill of the room.
"You don't understand."
Anna narrowed her eyes. "Try me."
"I'm only trying to protect you—"
"I've heard that before."
"But—"
"Just ... stop it, Elsa. You don't have to protect me!"
"I don't want you to get sick."
"What about you?"
Elsa frowned. "What do you mean?"
"You're leaving."
"What?"
Anna gestured with the shoe. "You're going into the city."
"I'm their queen, Anna. It's my duty to see our people through this."
"And if you get sick?"
Elsa looked at her meaningfully, but the princess merely glared back at her.
"If I get sick," she sighed, "then my sister will replace me as queen."
For a moment, Anna did not respond. Then her chest began to heave. Hot tears collected in her eyes, and she looked for all the world like the lonely five-year-old she'd once been.
"No … way," she said forcefully. "No. Just … no."
"Anna—"
"I'm not even … I can't." Anna paced agitatedly. She grasped her unfortunate shoe in both hands and wrung it between them.
Elsa tried to placate her. "Don't worry about me."
The princess scoffed.
"Look," Elsa insisted. She thrust her hands out in front of her sister, forcing her to see the pale blue pallor in her fingertips, the veins of translucent ice coursing just beneath the skin. "No fever can hurt me. Do you understand?"
Anna faltered, at last, lurching to a standstill. Her eyes grew wide. She looked at Elsa in wonderment. Even after all this time—after all they had been through—she was still in awe of the queen's inexplicable power.
Elsa waited for her to respond; when she did not, she continued speaking.
"I've been among them for days, Anna—weeks. You can't imagine what it's like …" She trailed off, haunted by the faces of the those they'd lost. She'd held their clammy hands and spoken to them gently, tried to comfort them in their time of need. But nothing she did could save them, in the end. She was a formidable sovereign—a queen—but she was powerless to stop her people from dying.
Anna studied her anxiously but remained silent. The fire within her had been extinguished as easily as it had been ignited.
"I need you to stay inside the castle walls," Elsa concluded.
Slowly, resignedly, the princess nodded. She was about to concede. She was ready to accept Elsa's word as the unequivocal command that it was, no matter how much it chafed her to do so. But then she remembered, and her chest constricted, and she gasped as though the queen's chamber had suddenly become a vacuum. The closing of the gates had incensed her—had distracted her from the purpose of her daily vigil. It came back to her now, the waiting and the waiting and the months of waiting, and she raised a hand to her heart and looked wildly at her sister.
"Elsa, no," she breathed.
Elsa frowned. "What?"
"You can't do this. You can't close the gates!"
"What are you talking about?"
"Kristoff—" Anna cried. "He's not back yet!"
Elsa felt her heart sink. A current of frigid air came down through the space between them. Ice began to creep along the floor from beneath her slippers.
"Anna, I—" Her voice faltered. "I don't have a choice."
Anna shook her head and produced a strangled sound from the back of her throat. Her chin trembled.
The queen swallowed hard. "I can't reopen the gates for one man." She could feel the frost twining between her fingers. Not now, not now, she thought desperately. She had to control it.
"But it's Kristoff," Anna whispered.
Elsa said nothing. What could she do? Kristoff would have been exposed to the fever by the time he'd made it through the city. There was always the chance that he could come through unharmed, as a small minority of villagers had, but was that a risk the queen was willing to take?
"Anna, please," she said plaintively, but her sister was already out the door.
I like the idea of keeping Anna and Kristoff apart because it gives them a chance to interact with other characters more thoroughly … Including Elsa, whose head I've really started to like getting into.
Anyway. The good news is that I've got this puppy written through Chapter 9, and I've gotten a start on Chapter 10. The bad news is that I have … Hit. A. Wall.
Plus, life.