I'd like to apologise. I know it has been several months since last I posted. My only excuse is that, as a real person, I have a real life, and that life decided to get very, very real. So I hope you haven't lost interest, and I'm really really sorry again. I have no idea when I'll be able to update again, but I am hoping it won't take nearly as long. I'll try to stay on top of things. I hope you enjoy.
The castle is dark and silent as Elsa limps up the stairs. The pain is completely gone in her left arm, but her leg wound twinges with every step she takes. She stops for a moment to wrap her shawl more tightly around her. The council meeting ended about an hour ago and she's not exactly sure what time it is. It could be the wee hours of the morning for all she knows.
She's not sure how she feels yet, but there is no doubt in her mind that she's content with the results of the conference. They have a strong defence strategy that they will implement once the foreign dignitaries are gone, and the men seemed to trust her judgement. Every point she raised was taken into careful consideration.
In turn, she listened to their counsel and shaped her ideas to fit their intelligence on the subject. The table worked well together and at the very end everyone was smiling. She was tired, but satisfied. The General even cracked a joke about Elsa's injuries and how quickly she seemed to have recovered which made them laugh and pulled a tight smile from her.
In the morning they will gather again to do damage control among the citizens. She is to hold a public conference with her subjects in the same square in which she was attacked. They have postponed the meeting with the foreign dignitaries until the morrow in order for her to take care of her own kingdom first. Her Minister for Social Protection & Welfare suggested it would be a good idea to be more united with her people now, to prevent disaster. People will begin to leave if they find Arendelle too dangerous, and that includes the threat of a magical monarch. The more she interacts with her subjects, the more human she seems, and the more they will form an attachment to her. Of course, they loved her parents, the fair and just late King and Queen, and their daughters in turn. But Elsa has to be careful. Arendelle may be a bountiful centre folklore and tales of magical trolls, but she did freeze the entire kingdom. Despite the Great Thaw, she has yet to earn the forgiveness of her people for putting them through what she did.
She almost turns the corner before she catches the shadow of a tall figure standing outside her bedroom door. She draws back behind the wall and opens her right hand. She summons a short icy blade and hides her hand in her shawl, then walks toward the figure with a neutral expression.
They immediately straighten and bow when they see her and their armour catches the moonlight from the bay window opposite. When they raise their head she recognises the face to be the captain's. His hard features and the brown eyes are ones she recognises from her introduction to the castle staff almost three years ago.
She'd liked him from the moment she'd shaken his hand. He'd seemed reasonable and similar to her in a way she couldn't describe. There was something he had that she had too.
Over the years he'd been loyal and hardworking, being her personal liaison with the military and guards even over General Toov. And even though he'd known about her powers for years he had never once let that cloud his judgement of her, never once limited contact like the rest of them. She knew where she stood with him, and he knew where he stood with her.
"Captain," she greets him. She rids herself of the blade with a flick of her hand.
She sees him glance down to her hand before he meets her eyes. He knew. It doesn't surprise her. "Your Majesty. I am here on orders of the General Toov to protect you."
"Protect me?" she responds, confused. "Why? And what happened to the lieutenant? And why are you here at this hour? Could this not have waited until morning?"
"The General has demoted the lieutenant after the incident earlier today. The lieutenant was unable to protect you in the way he should have been."
"That was my fault. I pushed him away." She couldn't let the lieutenant take the fall for something that he hadn't even done.
"Regardless, the General sees the lieutenant as unfit to protect you. He has appointed me as your personal guard, to protect and serve. He does not want to take any chances after this afternoon. I am to guard you around the clock, with you always in my sight."
Elsa narrows her eyes and cocks her head. "He appointed you as my personal guard? When? And why has this not been run past me first?"
The captain pauses for a moment. "I don't know why he didn't run it past you, Your Majesty. He certainly seemed very assured of your approval when he gave the order, I am sure he meant no harm. As to when, it was approximately five minutes before you called the council to meet. I have been here since."
She's quiet for a moment. How could anyone think she is the one who needed protecting? She is the monster, always the offender. People need to protect themselves from her. But why else would the General want the captain following her around at every minute of every day… unless.
Unless he wants her followed. He wants to know what she's doing every minute of every day. Wants to make sure she isn't really a witch, working quietly to bring the kingdom the kingdom down, undoing generations of work. He doesn't want to protect her, he wants to spy on her. She's at the top of the food chain. She could destroy everything.
Of course he doesn't trust her! She wouldn't either. With everything she's shown herself to be, her reputation isn't exactly spotless. No one would take the chance, anyone would be skeptical. The show of trust during the council meeting was just that: a show. He is earning her trust by faking his own.
The ice prickles in her veins, almost as if it's annoyed. She ignores it, she can't give the captain anything to tell him how affected she is, how affronted.
This is a test, and she has to get a perfect grade.
She clears her throat and lifts the corners of her mouth just slightly to be polite.
"My apologies for having kept you waiting," she says, voice smooth. He bows. "If you need anything, or have questions, do not hesitate to knock on my door."
He bows and she turns to go inside her quarters. She only lets herself grimace when she has safely closed the door.
Don't hesitate to knock on my door.
How ironic.
She brushes a few snowflakes off her head looks up at the ceiling. It's always snowing in her room. The snow doesn't stick, so there aren't mountains of snow on everything; it seems to vanish a few moments before it touches the ground. She doesn't know how it was enchanted like that, but it has been for years. It's the only place where she can't figure out how to stop it. It just keeps snowing, no matter what she does.
She shakes her head and heads for her bedroom, settling to talk to Anna the moment she wakes. It might assuage the guilt just a tiny bit, and this thought is what permits her to close her eyes and fall into a fitful sleep.
He is in her head.
They're on the fjord, her and Anna. Hans is in her head. Everything is frozen but she feels strange, as if her legs have switched places, or her eyes are down at her stomach. Something inside her is inherently wrong.
His voice is languid and dangerous in her head, drizzling poison wherever it goes. It's in every crevice of her mind.
Pick up the sword, he's saying.
She looks down.
His sword is at her feet.
No, Elsa.
It's Anna this time. She's on her knees in front of Elsa, tears streaming down her face and begging Elsa to stop.
Do it and you'll show me how worthless you really are.
Anna please!
You're weak, Elsa. You can't even control yourself.
Anna is breaking her heart. Her kind face has twisted into a sneer.
Don't listen to her, Your Majesty. Just pick up the sword.
His voice is so compelling. She knows it's wrong but her body seems to be moving of it's own accord. She grips the handle and points it at Anna's chest.
Do it, Anna spits. You were never strong enough. You were never anything. You're nothing.
Anna laughs cruelly and Elsa can feel herself crying.
Inside her head she is screaming. She is screaming at herself to stop, pleading with Hans to shut up, and crying out to apologise to Anna. But no one seems to hear her.
Kill her, Your Majesty. You know you want this. You've always wanted this.
Before she can stop herself, she stabs the sword right through Anna's heart. She lets go when it's hilt deep.
Anna is snarling at her, saying how this is all Elsa's fault.
Hans is laughing.
And Elsa is frozen.
Well done, Your Majesty. You failed. Again.
No.
I died because of you!
No!
"Your Majesty!"
Elsa jolts upright.
Her chest is heaving. Cold sweat is covering her skin like an extra layer of skin. Wind is howling through the room. She looks around, trying to slow her breathing. The place is covered with snow and icicles protrude from the ceiling. There are small, translucent clouds moving silently overhead.
Someone is banging on the door to her bedroom. It seems they are knocking their shoulder against it, but it is shut tight. There is a thick layer of ice covering it, sealing it and preventing its opening.
Her sheets are twisted around the lower half of her body and again she feels like she's been rolled up inside a carpet. She groans and closes her eyes against the splitting headache that's screaming between her temples.
Nightmare.
(Kill her, Your Majesty.)
She shakes her head but it only turns the headache up a few notches.
The banging on her door isn't helping, along with the loud shouts of, "Your Majesty!"
"Yes," she groans, trying to escape her sheets. "Yes Captain, I'm all right. Completely alone. Don't worry. Please don't make such a fuss. You'll wake the castle."
Pause.
"Yes, Your Majesty."
She has to tell him to call her ma'am. The 'Your Majesty' tirade is getting a little irritating. At the age of twenty one, the title feels very ageing.
She rubs her eyes and sighs. She runs her hands through her hair but they get stuck in knots at the nape of her neck. She tries to yank her fingers out and ends up pulling harshly at her hair in the process. A frustrated snarl climbs up her throat.
Again, she tries to get out of her blankets but to no avail. She kicks violently against them. The force of it pushes her out of the bed and onto the floor.
"Oof!"
Her headache, damn it! She closes her eyes and takes a moment to try and soothe the dreadful pounding. She's a dreadful mess this morning. At least her injuries don't hurt anymore. Which is, admittedly, strange. People don't recover from blood loss in a matter of just over twenty four hours. This headache might just make up for it, though.
She finally makes it out of her sheets and leaves them there. They'll need to be washed anyway. Right now, what she needs is a hot cup of tea. And maybe some chocolate.
But first: presentability. Elsa pulls her curtains open to see stars still scattered across the dark blue sky, but the sun's rays are starting to push the night away. It looks to be about six o'clock in the morning—she can never tell in the summer months. She throws the windows open (feeling a deep satisfaction at being able to do that now) to get rid of the smell of sweat and fear.
(A deep cackle—)
The final foreign trade policy is in two hours. She has to be ready. After today she will finally be alone. Well not entirely, she tells herself. You're talking to Anna now, remember? And that captain will be following wherever you go.
Right. She turns from her window to look at the state her bedroom is in. Rubbing her hands together she makes a sweeping motion with her right hand and twists it up. Her magic dissolves the ice and now into blue sparkles
Elsa still hasn't hired a handmaiden. She knows she should, she knows a queen isn't expected to do such mundane things as brushing and braiding her own hair, but she can't bring herself to do it. It's too dangerous.
So she sits on the comfortable stool in front of her elaborate vanity, and tries to ignore the ugly dark circles under her eyes that seem to be screaming at her. Her skin is too pale, her eyes too pink and her hair is a mess. She is beginning to show her cracks for the first time in years.
Hans smiles beside her reflection.
She gasps, losing her balance on the stool. Ice spreads from where hands have caught her fall. There is no one in the room, she knows this. It's all in her head.
She sighs and holds her head in her hands, counting down from thirty to one to try and start the morning a little more calmly.
She picks up her hairbrush tries to unknot the mess behind her head. It is slow and frustrating work. Every ten seconds she stops to growl irritatedly at the brush but eventually she manages to tame the mane into semi-obedience. Enough to tie a simple plait, anyway.
Enough of this. She can't keep doing this every morning, with more important things to be doing. This would be done so much more quickly if she had a maid. And it wouldn't leave her wanting to rip something to shreds with her hands in frustration.
She sighs again, resolute.
Anger simmering too close to the surface, Elsa knows she doesn't have the patience to spend another half hour closing herself up in a corset and layers upon layers. She waves her hand the ice dress crawls back onto her petticoat like it's coming home. She places her crown on her head without looking in the mirror. She takes a breath. She is calm, cool, collected.
A gust of wind blows her bedroom door open, blowing her cape around behind her.
"Good morning, Captain," she says without stopping to look if he's following her.
"Good morning, Your Majesty," he replies, voice smooth.
"'Ma'am' will do."
"Ma'am."
Her hand pauses on the door to her quarters. She looks at him now. "Not a word."
She doesn't have to explain. He looks her steadily back in the eyes and nods in understanding. She can glean nothing from his expression, but she doesn't have to. He's already disgusted with her, disgusted with her lack of control, her carelessness with this curse. Any sane person would be.
She continues through the door and down the hall to the staircase.
There is silence between them.
At half six in the morning, the castle is already awake and well into preparations for the day ahead. The cleaning has already been done and the smell of breakfast permeated through every corridor, especially the more they climb towards the under levels of the castle. It's making Elsa's stomach grumble.
However, she is on a mission. She soon reaches the servants' quarters. She has only ever been here twice. Once when she was seven, and once again when she was eighteen, meeting the staff as the next to assume the throne. Her father had stressed to her the importance to never see herself as above the servants. She may be their queen, but they are the people that make up the kingdom. Neither is one without the other.
"A monarch should make it their business to personally know everyone who works for them. It pays to know who does the work you can't. No one is not important enough for your attention."
She feels the ghost of his hand on her shoulder as she remembers his words.
There's a maid at the door, blushing at what a stable boy is muttering to her. They're both leaning casually on the wall, her holding a bucket of soapy water with her back pressed against the wall, him with a bridle in one hand and his other arm draped over her head with his whole body turned to face her. He's adoring her with sleep-dazed eyes, and she can't look at him for bashfulness. Her eyes look everywhere but at him and she's the first to see Elsa striding gracefully down the corridor. Elsa must look slightly scarier in her ice dress too, the cape billowing behind her. The blush on the maid's face is no longer because of bashfulness and she shoves the stable boy to the other side of the wide, stone corridor, sinking into a low curtsey. The stable boy fumbles and stumbles, confused between trying to open the door for his queen, and bowing before her. He settles into a bow behind the open door.
Elsa murmurs a small, "Thank you", and she hears the maid squeak in surprise at her acknowledgement. Elsa smiles internally, just a little.
The entrance hall for the servants' quarters is one of the biggest in the castle. Set underneath the very centre, it is wide and long with more servants than Elsa has ever seen, milling about. There are parts of it made up by a huge kitchen, parts filled with long wooden tables, and other parts filled with an assortment of equipment the staff needs to keep the place running, from cleaning supplies to everything else.
It is about that time of the morning in between early morning chores and everyone's breakfast that everyone has a few minutes to spare to have a pleasant chat. The hall is filled with cheerful chatter and warm laughter and superiors' shouts. It looks and sounds like a home, really. Elsa has never seen so many people under one roof except perhaps at her coronation. Kai has really done a fantastic job at filling up the open positions in the castle in the past week.
But the cogs of this formidable machine screech to a stop when the first person sees the Queen, and the whispers fly, like birds fleeing from mischievous cats, from person to person until every last person has stopped what they are doing to stare at Elsa. They've never dreamt this possible in all their working lives.
She's never cared so much about people staring at her than at this moment, and has never, funnily enough, cared so much about the silent judgement in every single head. Again, she is painfully aware of what impression she makes in her 'Ice Queen' getup.
"Your Majesty."
Gerda bustles up to Elsa, seeming surprised to see her. The housekeeper bobs a quick curtsey. She nods to the captain as well. "Captain Waltz." He bows his head.
The words seem to knock everyone out of their reverie, and the whole room sinks into bowed heads and curtseyed legs. Elsa nods, but she's not sure anyone can see her. Every eye is on the ground.
Gerda smiles kindly at Elsa, which Elsa returns with a fraction of the warmth. Gerda has always had a fondness for Elsa that Elsa could never understand. Even when she was locked away, Gerda came in every day to personally make and light the fire in every room of Elsa's quarters. She would thaw all of Elsa's frozen sheets from the previous night. She would tell Elsa every day how much of a special, wonderful girl she was, and what a magnificent queen she would make. Not that Elsa believed her, of course, but Gerda never once gave up.
"Gerda. I need all the maids lined up that you think would be my handmaiden. Ask them, of course, the girl needs to be able to say no. But I really cannot go on without one. I'll come back after lunch to see them."
"Yes, ma'am. I will see to it at once."
"Good. And is the steward ready to begin?"
"Yes, ma'am. He will be introduced to you this afternoon."
Elsa nods and turns to leave.
"Ma'am?"
Gerda comes closer to her to murmur, "Any specific qualities you'd like them to possess?"
Elsa pauses for a moment, then murmurs to her in just as much a low voice. "Just make sure she's brave enough."
She sweeps out of the room, the captain silent but present at her side. The door opens for her again, but it's the maid holding this time. The stable boy seems to have vanished. Elsa stops to look at the girl. She recognises her. The black hair tucked into the white bonnet and the eyelashes a mile long. The girl's head stays bowed even as Elsa looks at her, but she figures it out. This is the maid that spoke to her when she froze the hallway the day before. Elsa hadn't thought about it at the time, too preoccupied with the fact that she'd lost control and with thoughts of Anna, but it was a strange—and very bold—thing to do for that maid to speak directly to Elsa without being spoken to. She would have been let go for her impertinence had Kai or Gerda heard of it. Speaking to the royal family without invitation was a very dangerous thing to do.
And also very brave.
"Your name?" Elsa asks, voice soft.
"Mai, Your Majesty," replies the maid, head still bowed and knees still bent.
"Mai."
Mai looks up at her then, with round black eyes that Elsa has seen before in a three year old's face. She actually smiles.
"I think I've met your brother."
A tentative smile breaks out on the girl's face. "Yes, Your Majesty. I believe so."
Elsa catches Gerda's eye behind her and Gerda nods. This one will do very well.
"Goodbye Mai. I expect to see you again."
"Y-yes, Your Majesty," Mai stutters, curtseying and looking as if she can't quite believe she just had a conversation with the Queen.
Elsa nods again and moves on.
The Captain's presence is beginning to irk her. He moves silently and almost imperceptibly. He is her shadow. She doesn't like how easy he makes it seem. If she is not aware of him then she is not able to control herself as well she should be.
They are crossing the castle's entrance hall to the staircase when a messy bundle of muck and hay bursts through the doors. If the orange plaits weren't such a bright colour, Elsa thinks she would have missed her. She looks like she spent the night sleeping in horse dung. Smells like it, too.
"Elsa!" Anna cries in a high-pitched voice, both of them stopping dead in their tracks. "W-what are you doing here this early? I was just … taking a walk! Yes. A walk. At—" she glances at a clock behind her "—seven in the morning! Of course. I do this every day. And I don't go near the stables."She begins to edge her way past Elsa and the captain, tugging on her plaits and tripping over her feet. "Or Kristoff." She makes it to the stairs. "Definitely completely alone!" She turns and runs.
What is going on? Elsa stands there until General Toov arrives to knock the shock out of her.
"Ah, Your Majesty!"
She blinks for a moment. "General. Good morning."
She'll have to deal with Anna later.
"Good morning, ma'am. I see you've accepted your new shadow. I hope you don't mind that I appointed him without your permission, but something told me you'd have some trouble accepting the help unless it was forced upon you without your knowing."
She gives him a tight smile. He's right. "Does that mean you deserve my forgiveness, General?"
"Not in the slightest."
The General lets out a bark of laughter.
Her smile loosens as she slips into the familiar camaraderie with the General. Ever since she was three years old, they've had a good relationship. He had caught her playing with the daggers in castle training room. She had taken an immediate liking to swinging the weapons around and attacking the poles the training dummies stood on. He'd been the one to convince her father to let her learn the art of the sword. Although not something traditionally associated with women, the General had seen a knack in Elsa that was uncommon.
For nine years he had trained her with a sword until she'd decided at twelve to shut herself away completely. For those nine years, he had been the closest thing to a best friend.
She murmurs to him under her breath as they walk to the dining hall. "Have you arranged for an investigation into the arrow? Do you recognise it? Does anyone know who made it?"
He adopts the same voice, face just as blank as hers. "Yes, Your Majesty. Although not one of us was able to identify the weapon—and it is such a peculiar weapon, with no effort to be made aerodynamic—we have sent out two scouts to investigate the general area we think the arrow must have come from. No doubt they will be back soon."
Elsa nods. "Good."
They fall into polite conversation on the way to the dining hall, entering as though the previous exchange never transpired. Although the council has decided it's better to have the citizens know that they are implementing a plan of defence, it is wiser to keep the ugly details to themselves, so as not to panic anyone. This information of who shot the arrow could be catastrophic if it were publicly known. Especially because it could get to the ears of the foreign dignitaries and Elsa's Minister of Defence raised an important point yesterday in that Arendelle has no idea that it wasn't one of the five nations they are trading with.
The dignitaries will of course know about the defence plan too. No kingdom doesn't have spies, and of course all of the visiting nations' servants will have spent the evening yesterday at the local inns, learning all about the Queen's government and their plan to protect the kingdom.
A servant had gone around the kingdom last night nailing pages of parchment everywhere, warning citizens not to panic because of the attack the day before, that the queen and her military will be introducing immediate precautions. She has a plan with the General to erect a wall of ice complete with watchtowers all along the north and south and east of the kingdom, all across the mouth of the fjord and surrounding forests. Their western line of defence will be the treacherous mountains that have protected Arendelle since its first settlement. The military will be on hyper-vigilance, and a curfew will be introduced.
But they can't have their military secrets fall into the hands of potential enemies of state.
Breakfast is a quiet enough affair for the most part, until Anna shuffles in, clean save for the few pieces of straw sticking out of her hair.
"Good morning," Anna chirps, a tentative smile on her face. She takes her place at Elsa's right.
"Anna," Elsa greets, looking back down at her plate with a blank face. "Good morning. Please excuse us, General."
"Your Majesty," he says, nodding and taking his leave. The door shuts behind him with a dreadful finality. Elsa sees Anna gulp out of the corner of her eye.
"So!" Anna says brightly. She glances at the Captain. "Who's this?"
"What were you thinking, Anna?"
Elsa's voice is low but it is sharp enough to cut through diamonds.
Anna blanches and laughs weakly. "I accidentally fell asleep in the stables. That's all."
Elsa raises an eyebrow.
"... Kristoff was there too."
Elsa frowns. "Anna, you know you cannot be engaging in such impropriety. You, as Crown Princess of this kingdom, cannot be seen gallivanting about with—with a mountain man like this. Think of the implications. Think of your reputation—this family's reputation—and what you would do to it."
"Elsa, it's not like that—"
"You spent a whole night in his company. Alone. No daylight, no chaperone, nothing."
"Elsa—"
"And in the stables. My goodness."
"Elsa, please," Anna says, her eyes brimming with tears. "You know it's not like that."
"This is unacceptable, Anna."
Her voice hasn't risen. It has remained steady and plain. Her eyes haven't moved from her plate. Her expression hasn't changed.
"This is inappropriate behaviour. I don't want it to happen again. That is all."
Anna is silent for a moment but when she speaks there is stone in her voice. "What are you saying, Elsa? Huh? Are you saying I can never see him again?"
Elsa almost can't believe Anna's talking back to her. She is being reasonable, after all. "Oh please, Anna. I wish you wouldn't be dramatic. All I'm saying to you is—"
"Stop it, Elsa. You're not saying it to me, you're saying it to your plate. You can't even look me in the eye. Acting so bored and patronising, as if you have the right to tell me what to do. You are not my mother."
Elsa looks at her now, struggling against the emotions inside to maintain an air of placid boredom. Anna shivers with the temperature drop. "Quite right. I am your Queen."
Anna stares at her, shocked that she would even play this card. Elsa doesn't like it either, but she is not Queen because she likes it. Anna is not respecting her sensible request. How difficult is that to understand?
"Elsa," Anna breathes, betrayal etched all over her face. "Please."
"What do you want me to say, Anna? That it's okay if you go and spend the night with a man with whom you are not married? This would have been far less scandalous were it a prince, or someone with at least a title, but no. He is no one. Just a person. And people can be replaced. Princesses can't."
Elsa folds her knife and fork on her plate and it is whisked away. She is suddenly very aware of the presence of servants in the room, and especially the captain. There are ears everywhere.
People are constantly listening in, constantly being, and it's driving Elsa mad. It was the same when she accidentally made her powers known at her coronation. There was a room full of people, and then a courtyard full of people. Maybe her years of isolation were lonely, but at least she had privacy. She was alone and everything was hers. Now she has nothing. Even less, because no matter where she is, there will always be one person taking from her present. It's infuriating. And it doesn't seem to bother Anna one bit.
"He's someone to me!" Anna shouts, jumping up from her seat. "He's my friend, Elsa. More than you are."
She freezes. Elsa blinks slowly. Anna's words are like a blade in the heart, bringing with them a range of emotions including sadness and desperation. The hurt sends ice sparking between her fingers. But one emotion prevails above the others. Guilt pools inside her and wells up behind her eyes, stinging. Anna's mouth opens and closes as she tries to say, but the Queen is already getting up to leave. The Captain follows.
"I didn't mean it, Elsa," Anna says weakly, desperately. "I'm sorry."
"No matter, Your Highness." Elsa looks her sister in the eye as she stands by the door. Anna flinches at the cold title. "I'm sure you have other duties to attend to today."
She leaves, and if there is a little frost on the floor, who can blame her?
Elsa tries not to think too long about how the carriage that is ordered to take the royal sisters down to the harbour looks different. How the rust-smell of blood isn't there and there's no spike of ice sprouting from the floor. She lets go of the footman's gloved hand before she freezes it.
The short journey down is one of the most awful, tense things Elsa has ever had to endure, but she prevails. She has not learnt to conceal her emotions for nothing, after all. She is the epitome of perfect grace and civility, etiquette and poise.
The princess that has stuffed herself in the corner furthest away with a sour expression on her face and her arms folded hard into her chest, is not.
Elsa tries to make conversation, tries to be polite, but Anna is having none of it. She responds only with muted, monosyllabic answers, and eventually, not at all.
Elsa sighs and resigns herself to silence until they arrive at the harbour. Anna's brave face in front of all the dignitaries is not nearly as calm as her own. There are the cracks of amateur concealment there, that are apparent to anyone even slightly familiar with the game of politics can see. Elsa's is flawless.
Everyone is surprised to see the Queen as she is this early afternoon. She looks the picture of health; no limp, no sling, and no pallor They had heard of the commotion yesterday. Although they were assured it was nothing, they would have expected the Queen to be a little more of a mess. Elsa takes a quiet pleasure in the fact that she's not.
Seeing everyone off is a long and slow process. It's even slower with the army of guards surrounding the queen and the princess, even if Elsa allows only the captain stand right beside her. She must allow them to kiss her hand engages them all in individual conversation, being sure to leave them with the impression that she is nothing less than charming. Her blood pumps thick and fast with the rush of playing politics, the only game she has ever loved to play.
The only time she trips, is when the King of Finland steps forward to take her gloved hand. "Your Majesty. To celebrate this new union between our countries, and the end of a rather cold spell—" Elsa's polite smile tightens just the slightest "—I will be hosting a ball in one month's time. Everyone is to be invited, and I dearly hope to see your face."
She barely manages to keep a lid on her panic. How is Elsa supposed to defend her kingdom the threat of war when she's at a party miles and miles away? They can't afford to engage in frivolities. People's lives are at stake here. How could the King think this is a good idea?
"I will do my very best," she lies, holding on to her smile as best she can. "There is a lot of work to be done here before we can allow ourselves to celebrate anything."
She hopes he will catch the undercurrent of a polite declination in her words.
He doesn't. "Your Majesty, as the best of us all, I am sure you will manage it famously."
Elsa laughs, unamused.
"Farewell, Your Majesty," she says.
"Farewell!"
She watches him board the ship with anxious thoughts. She feels Anna step in close to her for the first time all afternoon and tries not to let the ice in her fingers escape. She longs to stand closer, to feel Anna's sunshine warmth so that she can forget, for just a moment, all the turmoil and hardship.
"A ball would be nice," she says, almost whispering. Her frail voice sparks a crack along Elsa's heart.
"We can't accept the invitation."
Anna's voice is impossibly frailer. "Why not?"
"Anna, we're on the brink of war." Elsa turns to look at her. "Someone attacked us yesterday, with the intention to take lives. If you can't see how serious this is, then I don't know what to say to you."
Hans' dark laughter fills her head again before she shakes the sound of him out.
Anna doesn't meet her gaze, staring as the last ship slowly moves to the mouth of the fjord. "We've never had a real ball before. The only ball I've ever been to—"
"—was ruined by me, yes I know. But we just can't risk it." Elsa folds her hands in front of her and joins her sister in watching the ships dotted on the horizon. "It's too dangerous."
Anna fiddles with her skirt for a few moments. She hums in quiet understanding before she walks back to the carriage, hugging her arms to her chest. So young to be in so much pain.
"Captain," Elsa says, turning to him, drowning in the weakness in her limbs and her lightness of head. "Let the General know we will construct the wall tomorrow. I am as of yet too weak to do it today."
He nods with a quiet "Your Majesty", and turns to give the order to a young soldier.
She walks back to the carriage and,again, Elsa is in danger of freezing the footman. The silence of the drive back to the castle weighs heavily on her shoulders, and she doesn't bother trying to make conversation with Anna.
The both of them have a lot on their minds. She will worry about her sister later.