Disclaimer: Frozen and all recognizable characters are owned by Disney. (Though I'm pretty sure you all knew that, already. ^_^ )

Summary: Rather than talking to paintings, after Elsa shut her out, Anna took to playing with her invisible friend, Mara. Only, as she grew up, Mara didn't go away.

Ten Years Later

It was a strange experience, having both of her parents gone at the same time.

It wasn't the first time either the king or the queen had gone away for a time. The gates may have been closed, but that didn't mean Arendelle could cut itself off from the rest of the world completely. It wasn't all that uncommon for either her father or her mother to be away for a few days, even a week or two at a time. Anna didn't enjoy those times, especially - not that she really thought they would abandon her, but the irrational thought kept poking at her now and then until they returned - but she could handle it. She'd learned not to interrupt when one of her parents was handling Official Kingdom Business, but after that was taken care of, whichever of them was still at home would happily welcome her attention, if only to distract themselves from how much they missed their spouse.

But this...

She supposed Elsa, for all that she continued to avoid having anything to do with her sister, must come out of her room more often than she'd suspected, as no one had been approaching her regarding any official decisions. Granted, she was only fifteen, and this was exactly the kind of situation they had a Prime Minister for, but with Elsa being the Heir, she couldn't imagine that her sister wouldn't at least be consulted.

In the meantime, she was continuing with her lessons. Mathematics, geometry, etiquette, history, international relations, music, dance, several different languages... Anyone who thought that being a Princess was easy, with no hard work involved at all, deserved to be hit, in Anna's opinion.

On the head.

With the six-inch-thick copy of 'The Complete History of Arendelle' that was sitting on her desk, back in her bedroom.

Repeatedly.

At her request, Mara kept quiet during most of her lessons. It was hard enough for her to absorb such dry, boring facts without any distractions. (She did, on occasion, pipe up when she knew the answer to a question that Anna had forgotten.) Besides, she was fifteen, now, and it had been made clear to her that this meant she was too old for imaginary friends. (Correcting that Mara was invisible didn't seem to go over well.)

When she'd been twelve, her parents had sat her down and patiently explained that, while it was a normal phase that most children went through, it did have to stop, sooner or later. Mara, they told her apologetically, simply wasn't real.

Her reply of, "What's your point?" had just left them confused.

She knew there wasn't a real flesh-and-blood person named Mara running around the castle with her. Mara didn't eat anything, didn't get sick, was always awake whenever Anna herself was, and, these days, tended to be just a voice in her head, rather than the teenage girl that occasionally manifested whenever Anna really needed someone there with her.

That revelation, rather than reassuring her parents as she'd hoped, instead resulted in the first visitor to the castle that she knew of in over a decade: a doctor by the name of Johann Kurtz.

A clinical psychiatrist.

Rather than be happy that their daughter had someone - whether real or not - that could comfort her, play with her, and lessen the problems that came from not being allowed to make any friends her own age (or spend time with her sister), they worried that she was insane, that having Mara around meant something was wrong with her.

It was the first time she could remember experiencing real, definite, lasting anger at her parents.

She didn't know what he'd told them, but afterward he left, and nothing seemed to change. Nothing ever seemed to change. Her parents had been a bit more wary when asking about Mara, true, but aside from that, everything went on as it had before.

After that, she'd made a point of being careful not to talk to Mara where anyone could see her, or even mentioning her name. If they wanted to keep secrets from her, she'd reasoned, she'd keep a secret from them.

She was even careful not to mention Mara when she was talking to Elsa. Or to Elsa's door, rather. She so rarely encountered her sister in person, and Elsa so rarely replied when she tried to speak with her (aside from telling her to go away), that she'd begun associating the door with her sister more than anything else.

(This had lead, on one occasion, to a rather bizarre mental image of the door leaning against the throne, with a crown perched on one of the top corners, when she'd idly thought about what it would be like when Elsa eventually became Queen.)

She'd just finished her Spanish lesson for the day - and that was one subject she could happily say she was having no problems in - and sat down for lunch... alone. Really, it was a good thing she hadn't actually expected Elsa to start showing up at meals just because their parents were away. Still, it had only been a few days, and she was already tired of being the only one at the massive dinner table. When talking to Mara, she tended to keep her voice low, to avoid alerting Gerda, who was usually hovering somewhere nearby, waiting to take her dishes.

Not that she wouldn't have wanted to talk to Gerda herself, but... Well, it hadn't escaped her attention, over the years, that whatever the reasons that Elsa continually isolated herself were, the loyal servants that regularly interacted with her, such as Gerda and Kai, had to be in on it. Indeed, they deflected her inquiries almost as well as the King and Queen.

I've told you before, you trust too easily.

"I know, I know..." she murmured under her breath as she ate a bite of chicken. She chewed and swallowed before adding, "I don't think I'm asking for much, am I?"

Being open and honest isn't exactly something encouraged among royals, though, is it?

"I suppose not." She sighed. "But that shouldn't extend to family. Not about something like this."

Unless they agree with your tutors.

She flinched. Last week, she'd accidentally overheard a few of her instructors discussing her progress. They hadn't been overly impressed, especially in regard to Elsa's advancements. That Elsa was doing so well wasn't at all a surprise - especially with all the practicing she was supposedly doing - but she felt a measure of pride in her estranged sister, all the same. What had been a surprise - and a bad one, at that - was the term one of them had used in reference to her.

'The Spare.'

She'd hurried away before she was discovered - and before she started crying - Mara grumbling very unkind things about them the entire trip back to her room. It wasn't the first time she'd ever heard the words, but that didn't make it hurt any less, especially coming from people that she'd thought cared about her.

Admittedly, she'd left before she could tell if anyone had defended her or not.

They're not important, Mara assured her. We both know you're more than that, anyway.

"Thanks," Anna said softly, allowing herself a small smile. It quickly faded when Gerda cleared her throat behind her. Stifling a sigh, she turned in her seat. "What is it, G-" She broke off in surprise as she registered Gerda's appearance.

The woman was so pale she looked like she might pass out any second, and her eyes were red-rimmed, as if she'd been crying. "Princess, I... We have recieved news... from Corona."

She stopped breathing, a cold chill spreading throughout her body. She felt a hand grip hers underneath the table and squeezed back, not even caring what Gerda might have thought, if she saw it.

Her parents had gone to Corona for a wedding. Her Aunt and Uncle's long-lost daughter was marrying her longtime boyfriend, so of course they'd both had to go. She'd been invited along, but, despite wanting to meet her new (well, sort of new) cousin, Rapunzel, she'd stayed, not wanting to leave Elsa all alone.

(Whether Elsa appreciated this or not, she had no idea.)

"No..." she said by sheer reflex, feeling hollow.

"There was a storm. I'm afraid the ship was lost at sea. There were no survivors."

Oh, Anna, I'm so sorry...

"What... What do I...?" For the first time in her life, Anna was utterly at a loss for words. There was only one coherent thought in her mind. "...Elsa?"

Oh, she won't be coming out of her room. You just watch.

"She... did not react well, Princess."

"But I need her!" Anna insisted, honestly not sure which of them she was replying to. She bolted out of her seat, dodging around a shocked Gerda, and raced for the stairs.

You're wasting your time! Mara sounded upset. Ten years, now, she's been pretending you don't exist, rebuffing every advance you've made. This is not going to make a difference!

"It has to!" Anna snapped back, skidding around the corner. "It just has to!"

You don't need her!

"She's going to need me," Anna replied as she reached Elsa's door. In her haste, she screwed up her special knock, but didn't care. "Elsa? Elsa, it's me, Anna," she called.

Silence.

"Elsa, are you in there?" She wished there was some way to tell. The doorknob was locked, but she was fairly certain that Elsa locked it when she wasn't in there, too, if only to keep Anna from going in while she was gone and just waiting there for her. "Gerda just t-told me..." A pause. "Elsa, please..."

Silence.

Always, always silence.

To her credit, Mara didn't offer a single 'I told you so'.