"This was a terrible idea, Maren. Tell me this was a terrible idea."

"Considering you've already gone behind your mother's back and hired a new member of staff whose sole purpose is to make clothes that you can only wear in secret, I think it's a little too late for that."

It had already been a few days since Anna first arrived in the castle, but the only contact Elsa had had with her was their initial meeting and a brief conversation about purchasing materials. The things Anna had in mind would take several days to arrive, so she'd since been occupying herself with sketching by the window in the dressing room. Even though Elsa knew she had allocated that room to be Anna's workspace, she was beginning to regret that decision. Her private space had become Anna's space too, and whenever Anna was working, Elsa felt like she couldn't be there.

"I don't see what the big deal is," Honeymaren continued, taking Elsa's now empty nightly cup of tea from her. "Anna seems to be settling in fine." The princess' lady in waiting had been keeping a watching eye on Elsa's new hire, making sure she didn't say anything she ought not to. "The staff think she's just a new seamstress. They don't suspect anything. And Anna hasn't even caught a glimpse of the queen yet, much less talked to her. She doesn't seem to be looking either."

"That's not the point." Elsa shook her head, walking around the room and snuffing out candles until only the lamp next to her bed remained. "Anna is so… not what I expected. I feel tense around her and I don't know why." Lies. She knew exactly why. "And she's so friendly all the time, like she wants me to let down my guard, but I can't afford to do that."

Honeymaren cocked her head. "Isn't that what you wanted?"

"No."

"Yes, it is," she pressed gently. "You told Anna you don't want her to treat you like a princess. You told me the same thing when we were kids, and you let your guard down around me, don't you?"

She looked down at the floor. "This is different. I hardly know her."

"But you could." Honeymaren placed a comforting hand on her shoulder, but quickly pulled away when Elsa tensed.

Elsa's shoulders rose high as she took a deep breath, collecting her thoughts before letting them fall. "We should send her back," she finally said. "She can keep the upfront earnings and maybe a little more if that's what it'll take to keep her quiet, but I don't know if I can do this."

She had expected to be met with no resistance. She knew that from the beginning, Honeymarne had never been fully on board with her plan. But to her surprise, when Elsa looked up again, Honeymaren was frowning. Practically scowling.

"As your friend and lady in waiting, I believe it's my job to tell you when you're being ridiculous, and I think right now you're being completely and entirely ridiculous."

"What?"

"Sending Anna back would be totally unfair on her. You brought her here and showed her what life working in the castle could be like. How can you take that away from her now?"

The princess was stunned. She knew Honeymaren had never been a yes man. She could always rely on her to give her the honest truth. But Honeymaren disagreed with this more strongly than she had any of Elsa's other ideas. And she still wasn't done. "Elsa, I've seen where she came from. You can't send her back to that."

Some feeling like worry thudded in her chest. "W-where did she come from?" Elsa asked, her voice shaky.

Honeymaren sighed, moving towards the door. "You don't even know?"

She could sense the disappointment in Honeymaren's voice. She felt like a child being told off. "I…"

"She's been here nearly a week and you've barely spoken to her, Elsa. It's like you're ignoring her entirely. You think you get to send her back just because she makes you nervous?" Elsa flinched at her harsh tone. "You were nervous when we first started playing together when we were kids, but we talked. You got to know me and where I came from. Don't be so obsessed with keeping up a front. Imagine you're a kid again. Let down your walls. You won't get anywhere with Anna until you do." When she was met with dumb silence, Honeymaren sighed. "Goodnight, Your Highness." She shut the door behind her with more force than was necessary.

Elsa fell back onto her bed, grabbing the nearest pillow and burying her face in it, wishing she could smother herself. Honeymaren was an even-mannered person, but when she called Elsa 'Your Highness' in private, it meant she was mad.

This was all slipping away from her too quickly. Why couldn't the stupid suitmaker have been a man? Then Elsa wouldn't have had to deal with all these feelings and questions and worries that took up all the space in her brain.

As much as she hated to admit it, Honeymarne was right. Despite being an inherently shy person, Elsa could force herself to talk to people when she needed to, and more often than not, the more she spoke to them, the more comfortable she grew around them. That's how it was with Honeymaren and Kai and Kristoff and the few friends she had at school. There was no getting around it. She had to do this.

She had to talk to Anna.

XXX

"She's not here?"

Elsa gawked in the doorway of the empty dressing room the next morning, Honeymaren close behind.

"Well technically it's her day off."

The princess groaned. All that psyching herself up and for what?

"And the queen is looking for you."

Her jaw tightened. "Great."

XXX

Anna woke before the sun. Even though it was still dark out, the castle was already alive with activity. She could hear her neighbours waking up, greeting each other, relieving themselves in the lavatories and getting ready for the day ahead. If she listened closely, she swore she could hear Olina beginning breakfast preparations, the melody of pots and pans clanging in her mind.

She took her time freshening up, washing her face and trying to tame her bed hair in the mirror. It was her day off and frankly, she didn't really know what to do with herself. She could show her face at her old workplace. She'd love to visit some of her old colleagues, and also see the look on her ex-exployer's face now that she's made it big. Or she could walk through the village market. She used to frequent it with her parents, but after they died, her only trips were rushed to secretly fuel her personal projects. Or she could walk through the royal gardens. Or use her newfound wealth to treat herself to a fancy meal.

The possibilities were endless.

After chomping down on a slice of toast and a chocolatey beverage—working in the palace was awesome—she exited the palace grounds and headed down the cobbled streets towards the village. Her mind was clear. Her legs moved on autopilot, taking her back down old roads, lanes that were so distant in her memories, untilt suddenly she came to a halt.

She hadn't intended to go back, and yet there she stood. At the foot of her childhood home.

The sign was gone. The one her father had carved out of wood one winter and hung on the wall next to the door. The one she and her mother had painted in summer colours. The one where she had carefully inscribed 'Bell Residence' to mark the home's inhabitants, her mother dictating its spelling as she stood over a cauldron of bubbling stew.

Her mother's garden had been dug up. Monkshood and dianthus and foxgloves and lily of the valley—those had always been Anna's favourite—dug up in favour of wheat. Wheat. It wasn't even a farmhouse. Why would the new owners grow wheat?

All areas of the cottage had been fixed, the quirks that made it home erased, The chip in the sixth roof tile from the right where Anna had accidentally thrown a ball too enthusiastically. The smear of yellow paint on the front wall when her father had refused to wait for the paint to dry properly before hanging up their sign. The wonky door knocker her mother had installed when she insisted she didn't need her father's help to do it.

All of it was gone.

Anna saw movement behind drawn curtains. The patterned ones she was used to seeing had been taken down in favour of neutral tones. She could hear the wails of a baby coming from her old room, and she mulled over the fact that they might possibly have the dullest parents in the world.

For a moment, just a brief moment, she let herself imagine things had turned out differently. It was a privilege she allowed herself so rarely. Having lived under the care of Madam Frosk for so many years, she came to realise that imagining a future she couldn't have often only dampened her spirits. But now she was free from the hell she'd been living. She could afford to imagine.

She imagined a life where her father had never left for work that morning. She imagined a life where her mother had never fallen sick. She imagined turning fifteen under that roof, then sixteen, then seventeen. She imagined growing old enough to spend long summer days on the lumber yard with her father. She imagined growing weary enough to spend long winter nights huddled by the fire with her mother. She imagined branching out to other things; love, a partner, a new house, kids. She imagined the day she would have moved out, her first big step into adulthood. Her mother would dab their teary eyes with her handkerchief as they bid each other farewell. Her father would wrap her in his sturdy arms and remind her she always had a home with them.

That didn't happen. And now, standing in the front lawn of what was now a stranger's house, Anna just felt like a girl who had grown up too fast.

XXX

"I thought I was free of duties today, Mother. It's Sunday."

"Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't realise royal duties stopped today. Well, if the kingdom floods or an earthquake hits, God forbid it happen on a Sunday. Then we'll all be in for it," Iduna teased with a coy grin.

Elsa glared at her mother but sat down across from her nonetheless. Queen Iduna asking for her daughter was innocent enough, but she was in her study. Meeting in the study always meant business. "What's this about?"

Iduna extracted several letters from her desk, all addressed to different places. Elsa scanned over her mother's elegant writing. Atlantica, Corona, Agrabha, Kumandra, Avalor, Equis… "I intend to post these out later today. They're courting invitations to different kingdoms. I know you may have met some of their nobility while at school so I wanted to ask if there are any you don't want me to send out."

Elsa blinked. "Is 'all of them' an acceptable answer?"

"No," she deadpanned.

As Elsa trained to take the throne, especially following her father's death, the subject of her betrothal had been danced around. And now as Iduna brought it to the forefront, it had become a growing point of contention between the mother-daughter pair.

"Mother, why must I do this?" she pleaded. "I have no interest in courting or finding a king or whatever this is."

"As much as it pains me to say this, my dear, your interest is not the priority. The future of Arendelle is."

Elsa hadn't thrown a temper tantrum in a long time, not since her parents refused to withdraw her from boarding school after the first term, but now she really wanted to. "Why does it have to be a noble? Why can't I just choose who I wish to be with?"

"You can," Iduna said evenly. "Just as I courted your father. Despite where I came from."

Elsa frowned. She'd heard this story so many times before, but that didn't stop her mother from repeating it. "I was part of a pilot programme to integrate the Northuldra into Arendelle. The first, actually."

"I know, but—"

"There was so much tension between the Arendellians and the Northuldra. Battles waged long before you were born, old wounds people thought would never heal. But as the first in the programme, I was being tutored directly with the prince. He quickly took a liking to me, even though I was a commoner. Even though I was still living in the orphanage in the village instead of in a royal suite or back in Northuldra."

"You've told me this—"

"People in Arendelle wanted to scorn me, but as the prince's best friend, I was accepted. Begrudgingly accepted, but accepted nonetheless."

"Mother—"

"It took a lot of time, but Arendelle warmed to me, and soon they warmed to the others too. Although our kingdom and their village are still separate, thanks to that programme and my place in the monarchy, we have an alliance stronger than ever despite the history of conflict between our lands."

Elsa's irritation climbed. "What's the point of telling me this again?" she pressed.

"My point is that you have a choice in who you want to marry. You've always had that choice. But time is of the essence. I met your father when I was twelve. We fell in love as we grew. I was married into the royal family before your father was even crowned. The kingdom was ruled in a pair, as it always has been. But you… when you take the crown, who will stand by your side?"

"You will."

"You know that's not what I mean." Iduna pinched the bridge of her nose. "Elsa, unless you have some secret courtship I'm unaware of,—which is completely fine by the way—this is what has to be done. I fear we may have already left it too long as it is."

Her jaw clenched. "You speak of me like I'm an old maid. As if the second I turn twenty-one, I will no longer be a worthy bride. I don't have an expiration date."

"In normal circumstances, you wouldn't. But you are a princess. It's not about finding you a husband before you turn twenty-one. It's about finding you a husband before you take the throne. So you won't be ruling alone."

Elsa resisted the urge to swipe her arm across the table in a fit of rage and knock everything onto the floor. What was that thing that her father used to say? Conceal it. Don't feel it. Every royal; king, queen, prince or princess, didn't always have the luxury of anger or fear or grief. They had to always be proper. Always be strong. For themselves and for the kingdom. Anything that didn't fit the bill had to be hidden away.

She tried to. She really did. She gripped the hem of her dress to steady her hands. She counted the beats of her heart, willing them to slow. She imagined she was anywhere but there. Then she opened her eyes and saw the letters on the table, rage flaring up inside her once again. With that, Elsa, the calm, composed princess of Arendelle snapped.

"You are such a hypocrite."

Iduna gaped at her daughter. "Excuse me?"

"You. Are. A. Hypocrite," she spat, each word laced with venom. "A kingdom is ruled in pairs, and yet other kingdoms are fine with single monarchs. King Triton rules alone Queen Athena died a decade ago. None of the princesses there are courting except Ariel, and she's seventh in line for the throne. King Roland ruled alone for eight years before marrying Queen Miranda. The Sultan rules alone too. You've ruled alone for the last three years!"

"It's different for kings," she replied, trying to keep her voice even.

"For kings? Is that it? So if a prince were first in line, he wouldn't have had to marry before his coronation?" Bitter accusation powered her voice.

Iduna visibly stiffened, her fuse with Elsa shortening considerably at that one line. "Elsa, you know that's not—"

"You got that choice!" She sprung to her feet, frustrated tears stinging her eyes. "The choice to rule alone. Why can't I get that choice?"

That was a jab right at her heart. Elsa had officially taken things too far. With that, Iduna, the calm, composed queen of Arendelle snapped.

"I got that choice?" She stood, hands slamming down on the table. Elsa's pulse was racing too much to even be startled by it. "Do you think ruling alone was a choice? Do you think having your father die at sea was a choice?" Her voice was thick, grief threatening to overcome her. "None of that was my decision! None of it! To have your partner die when you thought you'd have so much more time. How can anyone be saddled with the idea that it was their choice?"

Elsa had never been this angry with her mother. Iduna had never harboured this much fury towards her daughter. "You get more choice than royalty in so many other kingdoms, but you've squandered it. Not socialising when you were at school, not even going back to school after your father's death, instead spending your days doing who knows what inside the castle. You want a choice in who you marry? Fine, have it. But you need to get it into your head that you will be married. That is non-negotiable. You are a princess above all things. You'll be queen by the end of the year. So start acting like it."

"If being a queen means being married off before I'm even ready then I don't want to be one."

Iduna crossed her arms. "Well, tough luck. You don't exactly have a choice."

"And yet you try to blind me with lies saying that I do!" she screamed, fists clenched at her sides. "I clearly don't get a choice in anything!"

"What do you expect me to do? Turn back time? Make it so that you were never born into the royal family? What do you expect of me, Elsa?"

"I expect you to not force me into making this decision."

"That's enough," Iduna snapped. "I will not tolerate disrespect like this in my own kingdom, in my own home. I am the Queen of Arendelle—"

"Then stay that way! if this is what it means to be queen, then you can keep the damn throne." She turned on her heel, storming out of the room.

"This conversation is not over!" Iduna shouted after her. "You will be married because it's your duty to your kingdom!"

Elsa pretended not to hear, but her mother's words echoed in her head over and over as she raced towards her safe haven.

XXX

"Hey, red." Ronaldo was leaning against the doorframe of his small flat. "Come in. Do you want anything? Coffee? Tea? Biscuits?"

"No, I'm good." She followed him inside, putting her basket of shopping aside. "I can't stay long. I'll need to get back to the castle soon."

His brow raised in interest. "The castle?"

"Yeah." She smiled bashfully. "You were right. About the royal job proposal."

"Hm." He shot her a cocky grin. "Who would've thought? Tell me all about it then!"

"Oh my God, Ronaldo, it's amazing!" Anna blurred out, words rushing out of her now she could finally talk about it with someone. "I can't say who I'm working for because I'm bound to silence by confidentiality and all that but the resources there and the freedom I have is beyond everything I could have ever imagined! I get to buy whatever materials I want and I'm fully funded. The people are so lovely and the food is incredible and I'm happier than I've been in years and—" A thud in another room suddenly drew her attention. "Is someone else here?"

"Oh, that's just Olaf. My partner."

"Olaf…" Anna thumbed through the villagers in her head, but there was only one Olaf.

"Anna?" A man came out from around the corner and her jaw dropped.

His face had changed from the time she knew him, no longer boyish and round but instead thinner and longer. He'd grown a bit too, though she was still at least half a head taller than him. But the delighted smile he gave her when he saw her assured her that other than that, nothing else had changed. "Anna!"

"Wait, you two know each other?" Ronaldo asked as the two of them hugged each other tightly after what felt like so many years.

"Olaf and I were childhood friends," she explained. "Our parents knew each other and we used to play as kids. But then as we got older we saw less of each other, and then my parents died and Madam Frosk became my guardian and we just… lost contact."

"How's life at the penitentiary?" he joked.

"Oh, I actually work in the castle now."

"That's great!"

Anna then turned to Ronaldo. "Wait, when you say you guys are partners, do you mean partners or partners?"

"Partners?" Olaf cocked his head.

"In both senses of the word," Ronaldo said, putting an arm around Olaf's shoulder. "Partner in business, partner in life." He pressed a kiss to the top of his head.

"Oh, that partner. Yeah, we're like boyfriend and girlfriend but we're both boys."

"Wow," Anna breathed. She was no stranger to all different types of relationships, but it was rare she found a same-sex couple living together so confidently. "And you were still able to rent a place together? Don't the townspeople talk?"

"Sure they do, but it doesn't matter when you know the right places to look. Mrs Christiansen has no trouble renting to two best friends." He winked.

"And you know… where to look?"

"Of course!" Olaf answered cheerily. "Especially the parties and the festivals. The ones in the summer have always been my favourite, but the ones in fall are nice too."

"We could show you one of these days if you'd like," Ronaldo offered. Anna opened her mouth to answer when the bell tower from the castle chimed in the distance, marking the fifth hour.

"Shoot," she muttered. "I really should be getting back. To get ready for the week ahead."

The two men nodded in understanding. "Well if you wanna join us, you know where we are."

XXX

Elsa sat on the windowsill of her dressing room, a heavy cloak wrapped around her shoulders. It had been her father's, and his father's before him. It had always been big on her—it had even been big on King Agnarr—but in that moment, she felt so small, like the material could swallow her whole.

Her eyes were red from crying, eyelids puffy and swollen. Her heart felt like lead in her chest, and her throat was tight, an invisible hand closing around it. Her stomach was in knots and heavy thoughts swirled like dark clouds in her mind. She hadn't felt this weary in a long time.

The kingdom came first. It had always and would always come first. Her grandfather died in a battle for Arendelle. Her father had died en route to the north for a diplomatic mission to secure a stable future for Arendelle. If she had to be queen, then so be it.

But marriage? Ruling with a partner? She hated that she was being forced into this so quickly. Yes, she could marry for love, but who really found love so quickly? So many royals married out of duty. Sure, love may have found them along the way, but what if it didn't? How could they risk committing themselves to another knowing it could all go wrong?

"I wish you were here, Father," she whispered, pulling the cloak more tightly around her. If she concentrated hard, she swore she could still smell the faint tinge of his cologne, even after so long. Or maybe it was just her imagination trying to ease her longing for him. "I'm not ready to take the throne if this is what it means to do it.."

The princess was so wrapped up in her thoughts that she startled at the sudden sound of the doorknob turning. Her first instinct was that it might have been Kai sent by the queen to find her, or maybe Honeymaren to ask where she'd been all day, but it was neither. To her surprise, it was Anna.

"Your— Elsa," she quickly corrected, still not used to addressing the princess in such an informal manner. Her eyes widened when she took in the state of her; dishevelled, tear-stained and very clearly upset.

Elsa cleared her throat. "I apologise. I did not realise you would want to come in here on your day off." Her voice was slightly hoarse.

"Oh, I can go," she offered, already turning to excuse herself before Elsa protested.

"Stay," the princess insisted, nodding to the other end of the windowsill. Anna hesitated for a moment, one hand on the doorknob, before she relented and took a seat.

"Are you alright?" she asked timidly.

Elsa sighed, shoulders sagging. "Heavy is the head who wears the crown."

Anna looked at her with kind eyes. "Do you wanna talk about it?"

"Not particularly," Elsa replied flatly before softening her tone. "I just need some time, that's all." And maybe a magic fairy godmother who can make this all go away,

The two sat in silence, neither knowing quite what to say, both choosing instead to fix their eyes on the distant horizon.

"What was it like?" Elsa finally asked, mind drawn back to her conversation with Honeymaren the night before. "Working in the village? In Madam Frosk's shop?"

Anna thought carefully about her answer. "It was difficult," she admitted. "My mom was her business partner, and an incredible dress designer, but even as a kid, Madam Frosk never liked me. My dad was one of the men who died in the lumberyard accident back in 1838."

Elsa remembered that accident. She remembered the raging storms the week before. She remembered hearing about the landslides. She remembered standing by her father and mother, dressed in black as they addressed the grieving townsfolk. That was her first big brush with death. At fifteen, she thought she'd been young, but how old would Anna have been? Twelve? Thirteen? Elsa hadn't even lost anyone personally during that tragedy. She couldn't even imagine it.

"It hit my mom really hard. She was sick for months and since neither of my parents had siblings in the village, she asked Madam Frosk to take care of me once she was gone. But Madam Frosk never saw me as a daughter. The other seamstresses were always nice to me though, so that was a bright side. I always wanted an older sister. But Madam Frosk… I lived with her for four years and the whole time, I was just a worker and nothing else. And don't get me wrong, it went both ways. I hated her guts too. But I kind of wish she'd just treated me better, you know?"

She blushed when she was met with silence and Elsa's bewildered gaze. Why had she said all that? She had never intended to be this vulnerable right off the bat. Especially not with the princess. Maybe it was stopping by her childhood home once more on the walk back to the castle that made her feel particularly emotional. "Oh, wow I overshared. I am so sorry."

"No, don't apologise," Elsa insisted. "I will admit I've not been the most… sociable employer. I know I can be cold and closed off sometimes. But…" She offered Anna a kind smile. "I would love to know you, if you'll let me. My coronation looms over me, and I could really use a friend to see me through it."

Anna felt a warmth spread within her. All of her friendships had been stagnant under her guardian, with no freedom for her to maintain them. This was a chance she could take to start again. "I'd like that."

"And I know it's your day off, but if you're alright with it, I'd love to see some of the designs in your sketchbook. I notice you spend a lot of time on them."

Her face brightened. Anna loved her work, and talking about it was one of her favourite things. "Yeah!" She got up and grabbed the sketchbook off one of the dressers before plopping herself next to Elsa once again. This time, their bodies were closer, their sides flushed in Anna's excitement. They both noticed their immense physical closeness and chuckled nervously, scooching away from each other slightly.

Anna opened the massive pages, spreading them across their laps. "These were my mother's designs."

Elsa's eyes widened in wonder. "They're amazing."

And indeed they were. The designs were breathtaking, the detail exquisite even though the charcoal impressions were smudged fading. She kept them in the back of her mind for the occasion where she may need to dress like a proper princess, but she knew these weren't the main event.

"And these are mine."

The princess wanted time to freeze so she could spend hours studying those pages without consequence. She recognised bits and pieces from Ronaldo's outfit at the ball. She spotted influence from some of the most well-known mens' fashion designers across the world. She couldn't look away.

"So what do you think?" Anna asked, a twinge of nervousness detectable in her voice.

Elsa inhaled. "I love them."

The redhead breathed a sigh of relief. She knew the princess had hired her, but actually hearing her verbal affirmations made her feel better about her work than she had in a long time. She wanted to go through every drawing with her, hear everything the princess had to say.

And so there they sat, a princess and a commoner in a distant wing of the castle, pouring over the sketchbook together long after the sun dipped below the horizon.

This story is also available on AO3. I also have a Twitter where I post behind the scenes content, polls, writing updates and more. Both are under the same username kalesalad003 and the links are in my bio!