~This chapter was inspired by a deleted scene from the first "Frozen" Movie, called, "The Dressing Room"
Hope you enjoy!~
The clock on the mantle of the fireplace reads two in the afternoon. Which makes it approximately four hours since Elsa had left Michael.
Left without telling him about his magic.
And each minute, each second that ticks by, Elsa feels more and more suffocated by guilt.
After they initially split in the hall, Michael going to his rooms, and Elsa having to go to her fitting, Elsa just stared at him while he walked down the hall. A voice in her mind told her to run and to just tell him, get it over with. But her feet remained rooted into the carpet.
And all she did was watch. Watch until he reached his doors, and silently shut them behind him. Even still she stayed in that spot for another minute or two. She might've stayed longer, but a servant woman had come walking down the hall with a freshly folded basket of laundry, and Elsa had to leave before she asked any questions.
The fitting has now been going on for about two hours now, Anna still yet to show up. And Elsa is more than ready to just retire to her rooms, or the garden, or some place of solitude. Unfortunately, the thunderstorm hasn't let up much since it started at ten.
Standing atop the small block platform, Elsa stares at herself in the three-panel mirror. The royal tailor is adjusting the skirts of the periwinkle dress – one of the six total they've gone through throughout this fitting. The other five already set on the mannequins by the window.
And Elsa is ready to just leave.
Anna was supposed to show up over an hour ago, the sisters usually having their fittings together – as it is a much better way to pass the time. She almost wishes she asked Anna where she was going if she'd known Anna was going to be this late.
The royal tailor – Cath – is a sweet, older woman of her sixties. She wears the same attire as the rest of the servants of the castle: her hair concealed beneath her bonnet, hands gloved, and her homespun dress covering her from neck to toe. She always reminded Elsa of a grandmother figure, with her delicate touch and gentle demeanor.
She pins another section of the skirt when she says, "That young man has made quite an impression, hasn't be?"
Shocked, Elsa doesn't know what to say, or what to do when she feels her cheeks warm for no reason. "Um, excuse me?"
"That young man, who's been staying at the castle. He seems to have made quite an impression around here." Cath chuckles.
"I – I suppose." Elsa looks to herself in the mirror and sighs. This particular dress is flowing with skirts. Cath having said something about trying a new design. Elsa looks over to the other dresses, with their slim fits and flower embroidery. This one has a bloomed skirt – wide enough to look like she's wearing a crinoline beneath – with the top of the long, off-shoulder sleeves decorated with chiffon flowers before slimming down to points at her hands.
Cath hums with a fiendish grin. "I tell you, the amount of times I've seen the guards usher away some young ladies gawking at him – I'm afraid they'll have to start closing the gates again!" She gives a caw of exasperation that draws a smile and giggle from the queen. "I swear, the little poppets' eyes were bulging out of their heads, and their tongues practically rolled to the ground. It started off with just one, then the next thing I know, I'm walking with some freshly cut bolts, and I see a small gathering of them in front of the gates!"
Elsa's heart skips a beat.
She'd forgotten about the open gates . . . How many people have seen Michael training? How did he not know, or notice?!
No, he wouldn't miss something as simple as that. And the castle courtyard is so big he could easily just train in the corners, out of view of any onlookers. He could practice under the mezzanines, or something. But even still –
"People aren't, talking, are they?" Elsa asks, lifting her arms up at Cath's gesture.
Without losing focus from her work, the tailor asks, "How do you mean?"
More warmth spreads in Elsa's cheeks. "Well . . ." She attempts to clear her throat. "I – I mean, no one thinks he here as a, suitor, do they?"
"With a face like that? I wouldn't be surprised if they did."
"Cath –"
"I mean, if he came up to me – or any other girl – asking for their hand, I'm sure they wouldn't give it a second thought!"
"Cath, please!" Elsa says, despite the chuckles breaking into her words.
"Oh, don't worry, sweetie. With all that training he does, I'm sure they just think he's training to be Captain of the Guard."
"Yeah, I suppose."
"But if you do decide to make him a potential suitor . . ."
Elsa doesn't hold back her laugh. "Cath, please."
The tailor smiles she tickles Elsa's chin before turning to her basket of supplies set on the vanity. That's when the door to the dressing room opens, and finally, in steps Anna.
"Elsa?"
Elsa looks over, ready to greet her sister, until she finds her sister dripping wet with seaweed on her head. Anna closes the door behind her, smiling unperturbed. "I'm here! I'm back."
"Anna where have you been? And what happened to you?"
Cath has since paused her work on Elsa as she hurries over to the princess with a readied towel Elsa didn't see when she first came into the dressing room. She hands it to Anna who quickly but lazily dries herself off, tossing the bit of seaweed into the wastebasket. Her braids looking like a tangled matt with their ruined plaits.
"Pig. Pie." Anna says as she walks over to the curtains of the closet along the left wall. The closet that contained all of their dresses, old and new, some untouched, and others worn from constant wear. She opens the curtains wide before looking back at her sister. "I mean not a pig-pie, but pig and pie."
Anna steps inside, enveloped by the curtains, tossing out random pieces of clothing as she talks before poking her head out.
"And ocean."
Then in a blink, she ducks back into the closet.
Elsa chuckles despite seeing Cath starting to writhe beneath her skin at the damage the clothes with have from the sea water. But the seamstress quickly sighs in defeat and resumes adding the finishing touches on Elsa's sixth dress.
"Where's my rose dress?" Anna calls from the closet.
"Still recovering from the last time you wore it." Elsa says, watching the curtains of the dressing room ruffle from her sister's constant moving.
"Oh, right! Sorry!"
"Please don't make a mess." Elsa says as a heeled shoe of tangerine orange just misses her, hitting against the glass of the mirror to her left.
Still more clothes spurt from between the curtains, littering the floor and the furniture. Both Elsa and Cath give long exhales before looking to one another, Cath raising her hands up in submission. Free of her fitting for now, Elsa begins to help the tailor clean up the litter of clothes that have covered the floor in seconds.
Anna suddenly gasps and glides from the curtains in a dress of violet and gold. "How about this?" she asks as she holds the skirt up and twirls.
Elsa shakes her head with a disapproved hum as she picks up a shift from the arm of the chair, and a random sock from the floor. "Mm-mm, you are not wearing that to my Suitor's Ball."
The dress – though lovely with its color choices – it has such intricate patterns stitched within that it's near dizzying to look.
Anna pouts, but her smile quickly comes back. "Okay." She breathes before she reaches down and grabs a fistful of the skirts and heaves them up over her head in one smooth motion. The air catches and inflates the dress, allowing it to float down before gently settling on the mirror of the vanity.
Anna is already back inside the dressing room humming as hangers click and fabrics rustle. As Elsa is attempting to clean up the room, already having a mound of clothes gathered in a pile on the couch, her sister gasps again and exclaims, "What is this?!"
Elsa turns and finds her sister in a ridiculously inflated gown with a combination of a bright orange, and olive green. It's very oversized for Anna's figure, the short-belled sleeves falling off her shoulders. The peplums of the dress are so stuffed they look like a mushroom cap. The skirt itself so thin that the overall shape resembles the fungus. Elsa had completely forgotten the garment by choice because it just looks so ridiculous.
"Oooh. Ooh, la, la! My hips are here, my hips are there! Oh! Pardon my behind young man, didn't mean to knock you down!"
Elsa giggles at her sister's clumsy dancing and overly eccentric accent as the dress bounces and jiggles like gelatin. She manages to compose herself to say, "It was just a gift."
"From whom?" Anna asks, placing her hands on her hips, causing the dress to jiggle again.
"Oh, I don't know. One of those, big countries." Elsa barely says through a laugh. She digs through the pile of clothes on the couch and fishes out a hat Anna had thrown. She places it on her sister's head – the hat big enough to fall over Anna's eyes – before turning and pushing her back into the dressing room. "Stop goofing around."
Still, her sister spares one final statement as she's swallowed by the curtains again. "I can barely fit through the doorway!"
Elsa resumes to trying to gather and folds the clothes, to help make Cath's life a little easier. The tailor walks up next to her, her arms full of sloppily gathered clothes and murmurs to her. "This is why I agreed to have your fittings together."
The queen chokes on a giggle as she bumps her hip against the tailor's. The woman smiles despite giving a harrumph before walking into a different aisle of the dressing room.
Elsa manages to finish a pile of shirts before calling to her sister. "Anna,"
"Yeah?"
"Look, I . . . I appreciate what you were trying to do, with me and Michael . . ." she picks up a petticoat, about to fold it when she hears the curtain ruffle again. She turns to find her sister's head poking out between the gap in the curtains once again. Only this time her expression is focused.
"But," – she folds her lips in, her shoulders dropping on an exhale – "I didn't tell him."
"What?" Anna chirps, stepping out of the dressing room in just her pantalettes and corset that's suffocating the linen chemise beneath. "Elsa."
Elsa looks to Cath, who nods before putting down a neatly folded pile of clothes. She wipes her hands on her dress before quietly excusing herself. Anna dips her chin in thanks as she approaches Elsa.
When the door closes, Anna asks, "Why didn't you tell him?"
"Because I panicked. I wasn't expecting you to just put me on the spot like that!"
"Elsa, this isn't something you tell him when you're ready. He needs to know, now."
"I know, I just, I froze. I wanted to tell him, my mind was screaming at me to do it, but . . . I couldn't. I don't know why."
"I know you're nervous. But it's better if you tell him before something bad happens." Anna says as she slips back into the dressing room.
"I know you're right." Elsa says as she begins on a new pile of the clothes. "Maybe I'll just tell him at the ball.
Anna's voice muffles through the curtains. "You sure that's a good idea?"
"I feel like I have to. Otherwise I'll keep letting my fear stop me. At least guarding the ball will act as some kind of distraction. Give him time to think."
"Maybe. Oh! Found one!" Anna happily chirps. Elsa turns to find her sister hopping on one bare foot while she tries to fit the other into a heeled shoe. Its companion in her sister's hand.
The dress she's settled on is a lovely ballgown of periwinkle. The chiffon sleeves fall off her shoulders, cuffed at her wrists. A sash of scarlet red cinches her waist, holding up a layer of the skirt; the ornate gold detailing of flowers trailing all around the hemline and on the front of the bodice. "What do you think?"
"It's fine. But wha –" Realization sparkles in the queen's eyes. "Ah! No. No, no, no. Those shoes are mine, and they're new."
"But they match, a-and I just ruined mine."
"Well that's your own fault, you shouldn't have worn them out."
"Aww come on! I've almost never seen you wear these before."
Elsa sighs as her sister approaches her, taking the other shoe from her and turning her towards the three-paneled mirror. "Anna, tell me something: Am I doing the right thing, by telling Michael this?"
Elsa wordlessly begins to tighten and zip the back of her sister's dress. She can see Anna's brows furrow in thought. "I don't know." She admits. After a heartbeat, she inhales deeply and adds, "But considering the last time magic was kept a secret, it was soon exposed at a ball, and a kingdom was thrown into an eternal winter."
Looking at her sister, she knew her words weren't out of spite, or hatred. It was meant to be a joke, but now all Elsa can see is how her magic was exposed at a ball, in front of everyone. How everyone called her a monster, and how she fled.
Anna can see the effect her words have, as she quickly turns around and grabs Elsa by the shoulders. "But that's a different circumstance entirely."
"No. No you're right." Elsa's breathing is already becoming shallow. "Maybe I shouldn't tell him at the ball. It'll cause a scene. He needs to stay focused."
"No. Elsa you need to tell him. Otherwise you're never going to say anything." Elsa is clutching her fingers, rubbing her thumb along the inside. Anna rubs her sister's shoulders in an attempt to calm her. "You need to tell him, Elsa."
The queen nods, her breathing settling. "You're right." She turns away from Anna to approach the window. She mumbles, this time more to herself than to Anna, "You're right."
As if she was listening for her cue – which she likely was – Cath returns to the dressing room, gesturing Anna to step up onto the small cube so she can start to adjust the dress. Anna does so, sparing Elsa a quick, assuring rub on the shoulder.
"Good. Now . . . Please, let me borrow your shoes?" Anna asks too sweetly with a smile of white teeth.
Elsa looks over, realizing she's still holding the other show. She smiles despite her heavy exhale. She presents the shoe as if it were some official royal document. The tip of the shoe pointed directly at Anna. "Fine."
Anna giggles as she takes the heel, with a honeyed but victorious, "Thank you."