Frozen belongs to Disney
Trigger warning: car crash, minor character death, suicidal thoughts, homophobia
Chapter 12
Elsa packed her toiletries, the last thing to go into her suitcase, then double checked the room to make sure she hadn't left anything behind. Her phone buzzed again from the night table, but she pointedly ignored it. She needed time away, time to think. A knock sounded at the door, and Elsa sighed.
"Now what?" she thought. She first checked the peephole to see one of the hotel staff, a teenaged boy, by the look of him, waiting in the hallway, then opened the door.
"Miss Anderson? You have a delivery," he said. He held up a relatively flat cardboard box. She checked the sender's address and spotted Anna's name. Her lips formed a small line and she nearly told the kid it was a mistake, but then she thought better of it and signed for the package. She locked the door behind her and set it down on the desk, then peeled open the sealed flap. A blue cookie tin slid out, along with a card taped to it. The tin looked vaguely familiar, and Elsa recalled that Anna had pulled it out from under her bed, back in her dorm. Her anger mostly spent, Elsa's chest twinged a bit at the realization that Anna had gone to the trouble to put a gift together for her, and then posted it when she didn't have a chance to give it to her in person. The card was really just an index card, a spare of the ones they had used during their study sessions, folded in half with a stick-figure snowman drawn on it. She opened it up.
Elsa,
I'm so, so sorry. I made these for you as a Christmas gift and I meant to give them to you before you left. I understand if you don't want to, but please, can we talk?
Your friend,
Anna
Elsa frowned, peeled half the tape off the tin and popped it open. Immediately, a rich scent of chocolate and peppermint washed over her, and she breathed deep.
"She made these?" Elsa thought. Despite her misgivings about what Anna had done, her heart lifted all the same. She picked up one of the cookies, brushed a few crumbs off, and took a bite. She had to close her eyes; it was perfect. The first thing she thought of was sharing with Anna, but of course, that was impossible now. She kept the cookie and closed up the tin, reapplied the tape, then maneuvered her clothing around inside her suitcase to make space for it. She coiled up her phone charger, the last thing to go, and tucked it into her carryon, then scrolled through her messages.
I'm sorry… can we talk?
(missed call)
I sent your Christmas gift to your hotel, can you let me know if you got it?
(missed call)
Honestly, I wasn't thinking about the scholarship or anything like that, I was just happy to have a new friend, and a new teammate. Please call me back?
Elsa thought of Anna typing out each letter, one at a time, on the number pad of her ancient flip phone, and frowned. She tapped out a response.
"I received the gift. Thank you," she typed out, then hesitated. "They're delicious."
She pressed send before she could second guess herself. The response came almost immediately.
"Great! Can you talk?" Anna replied. Elsa wanted to hear Anna's voice, wanted to listen to her say she hadn't meant to do anything wrong, wanted to believe her. In her head though, she knew she needed some time away.
"Maybe later," Elsa replied.
She shut her phone off and used the hotel phone to ring the front desk to send a porter up. Down in the lobby, a helpful looking middle-aged man stood behind the check-in counter, and Elsa walked up.
"Checking out. I want to reserve the same room for the spring semester," she said, "and, can you hold my equipment for me? I'll pick it up again in January when I'm back."
She didn't actually know whether she would be back, but figured she could always cancel the reservation and tell the hotel to donate or keep the equipment if she ended up staying in Norway.
"Very good ma'am," the counter staff said. He held up a thick envelope. "The final invoice for your stay."
Elsa accepted the fat envelope and tucked it into the front pocket of her bag. Then she headed out to the parking lot, started up her car, and drove to Boston's Logan International Airport. A few hours later, she reclined in her business class seat, apple juice in her glass, on her way home. Thoughts of Anna, of hockey, of the cookie tin currently in the plane's belly, all swirled around in her head as she tolerated the airline provided brunch. Eventually, she tried to watch a movie but ended up falling asleep, only to wake up when the pilot made the announcement that they were beginning their descent. Outside, the lights of Oslo shone on the ground, mirroring the stars in the sky above. As they taxied to the gate, she turned her phone on and received a message from her father: "I'm at the airport to pick you up."
"That's odd. Usually he wouldn't come himself," she thought. She debarked, went through immigration, then picked up her luggage from the carousel and passed through customs. She cast her glance around as she exited through the sliding glass doors and spotted her father, winter jacket in hand, a little grayer about the temples perhaps than the last time she saw him, amongst the small group of people waiting by the exit. She gave him a small wave and he held his hand out to take her suitcase.
"How was your flight?" he asked in Norwegian.
"It was good. I slept most of the way," Elsa replied. "Is Kai sick?"
"He was up before dawn this morning, so I gave him the evening off," her father replied. "It's good you're here early. The conference starts tomorrow, so we can drive directly to the hotel."
Elsa nodded. Usually, Kai would drive her father everywhere, and he had often served as her driver when she was younger. She suspected though, that there was more to her father's unusual personal attention than Kai's long day. She followed him to the exit. As they paused near the door, he zipped up his jacket and put on a hat, while she didn't bother with either. Outside, their shoes crunched as they walked across salted asphalt, past mounds of plowed snow, to a shiny black SUV. Lights flashed and the car chirped as they approached, and her father hefted her suitcase and carryon into the trunk. Elsa sat in the front seat and buckled in. They pulled out and he followed signs to the highway, then turned north.
"How many people are at the conference?" she asked.
"Most of the senior team," he replied. "Listen, Elsa, I want you to stay in Oslo in January and start learning the business."
"There it is. That didn't take long," she thought.
She stared out the window as orange streetlights left streaks on her retinas.
"I haven't decided what I'm going to do," she said, then decided to be a little petulant. "Maybe I'll stay on and earn a bachelor's degree, or perhaps even a masters."
Her father scoffed.
"Paper. What can you learn from them that you can't learn on the job, that I can't teach you? I've been running this company for decades, built it into what it is today," he said.
"I know," she said quietly.
She fell quiet as they drove towards the North Mountain ski resort, the location of the company conference. They turned off the highway and onto a country road, and her father flicked on the high beams.
"I won't force you to stay," he said.
"How kind of you," she replied.
"I won't be around forever. And I have so much knowledge to pass on," he said.
"Planning to retire?" she asked.
"You know I can't, not now," he said. "Too many people rely on me, and if I left it to anyone, even my most capable senior executives, it wouldn't-"
"What makes you think I could do it then, if they can't?" Elsa asked.
"Because I will train you. You have what it takes. We could run it together until you're ready to take over," he said.
Elsa paused at the rare praise from her father.
"The company is your life though; how many eighty, hundred-hour weeks have you worked? Maybe I don't want that," she said.
He pressed his lips together as they turned to an even smaller road that started climbing up the foothills of the mountains. This road, while plowed, was still covered in snow, and it muffled the sound of the tires as they ascended. Tiny snowflakes began to fall, and in the glare of the headlights they looked like stars racing towards them out of the darkness.
"There are good people there, and… your coming to work at the company is the best way for us to spend meaningful time together, not just holidays and special occasions," he said.
Elsa inhaled.
"We have more than enough money; you could always leave. Then we would have all the time in the world. Let it be someone else's problem," she said.
"It's not entirely about the money," he replied, "besides, even if I did, you're grown. We'd probably still only see each other on holidays and special occasions."
Her instinct was to deny it, but he was probably right; how often did adults see their parents, really? She hadn't seen him at all for the entire semester, and barely missed him. In fact, she recalled being distinctly put off every time he tried to call.
"Have I been too standoffish?" she thought. She tried to consider it from his point of view, his only child, all he had left of his wife, barely talking with her, barely staying in touch. The car skidded slightly as they continued to climb.
"Whoa," she said, but then the wheels lost their purchase and spun futilely as they stopped ascending and started to slide backwards. Her father turned the steering wheel right, then left, struggling to regain control.
"Elsa, the road," he said.
She shook her head and grabbed the handle above her window as they started picking up speed, and the car spun until they slide sideways back the way they came.
"Elsa, you have to control it," he said as he wrestled with the wheel.
"It's not me!" she said.
"The snow melted against the road during the day," she thought. When the sun had been out, the snow that lay against the road had melted, but now, as the temperature dropped overnight, it had turned to ice. They had been fine while driving atop the snow, but when the tires skidded and scraped the snow away, they were left in contact with the ice below, and now they were sliding, and picking up speed.
"Wonderful. You figured it out, for all the good it does you," she thought as the car careened towards a bend in the road.
"Hang on," her father said just before they impacted the guard rail with a screech of metal against metal and a horrible crumpling sound as the car door dented and scraped. For a second, they teetered on the edge of the embankment, headlights shining at the mountain face, then the guard rail gave way and they were sliding, then tumbling through snow covered trees and rocks. The world spun and she instinctively squeezed her eyes shut as bits of shattered glass from the window sprayed her face. Finally, they came to rest against a large tree. A lone headlight shone up the mountain, illuminating the path of broken branches and saplings they'd carved through the woods. Elsa became aware of her own sharp breaths and the whistling of wind through the wreckage of the car.
"I'm alive," she thought, then looked to her left. Her father's air bag had gone off, and it now lay deflated in his lap. A gash had opened in his forehead, and blood dripped down his face and onto the white material.
"Dad!" she said as she shook him. She breathed in relief as he stirred and blinked his eyes open.
"Are you… are you okay?" he asked.
She nodded.
"I think so," she said. She pulled her phone out of her pocket to call for help, but there was no signal.
"Of course," she thought.
"Oh, damn," her father said as he wiped the blood away, "ach. I think I broke my arm."
"Is your phone working?" she asked.
He dug it out of his pocket, but like hers, there was no signal.
"Okay… okay," she said. There was no telling when someone might be along that deserted road after midnight and notice the broken guard rail. "I'm going for help."
She tried to open the door, but it was jammed shut, so she clambered out the broken window and nearly twisted her ankle as she landed awkwardly on a snow-covered stone on the ground. The car was a wreck. All of the windows had broken except the windshield, which was covered with spiderwebbed cracks, and dents and scratches covered the rest of the frame. The radiator hissed as she passed in front of the headlight, and she stumbled around to the driver's side of the car. The wind tugged at her hair, and her father had already started to shiver, perhaps from shock, perhaps from the cold. She slipped out of her winter jacket and threw it over him. He opened his mouth to speak.
"I don't need it," she said in response to his unasked question. "Stay here. I'll get help."
She turned and started walking back the way they came.
"Elsa," he called after her, "I love you."
She stopped turned around.
"I love you too, dad," she said. Then she turned around again and started climbing up, back towards the road. The wind whistled through branches and the snow started coming down heavier, until the headlight vanished behind her. She pulled out her phone and used its wan glow to light her path a little bit, then pushed forward.
"Go. Faster," she thought. She knew they were close to the resort; if she climbed, she would eventually run into the road, and that would lead her to the ski area. Her phone battery died just before the steepest part of the incline, leading to the road, and she used her hands to scramble up the final ascent in darkness, but finally made it. She clambered over the guard rail; the ruined section was to her right, and she turned left, uphill, towards the ski mountain. She switched to a fast jog, and despite her ice hockey conditioning, her breath became labored despite as she pushed herself harder than she ever had before. The detachment washed over her, but Elsa was focused. She had to get to the resort, had to find someone, anyone, with a working phone so she could call for help. She passed a few rental shops on the way, but at this time of night they were all shuttered and dark, their parking spots empty. The illuminated, glowing slopes of the ski mountain appeared ahead of her as she rounded a bend, and she kept going, through the exit off the main road, to the large hotel near the base lodge. The final leg, the mostly empty parking lot, seemed to take forever to cross, then she was past it, past the empty ski racks, and through heavy lobby doors. The large, high-ceilinged room, styled in rustic timber with a few circular fireplaces surrounded by padded seating areas, was dimly lit. Heated air washed over her, along with the distinct smell of wood smoke, and eyes from the front desk turned in her direction.
"Miss, are you okay?" the young man at the desk asked. She stumbled over to him.
"Car crash, on the way up here. Fell down a cliff," she said, "my father is still there."
"Elsa?"
She glanced over to one of the fireplaces, where Kai, her father's driver and assistant, had stood up, concern in his eyes. Only now, she realized her clothes were covered in snow, probably her hair too, and she brushed some of it off and onto the floor. She looked up at the hotel staff, who simply stared at her. The impatient Ice Queen flared to life.
"What are you waiting for?" she said. "Call an ambulance, now!"
The young man blinked and picked up the phone.
"And someone get her a blanket," Kai said. The hotel staff leapt into action. "What happened?"
"We hit an ice patch on the road, fell down an embankment," she said, "Father is still there. His arm is broken."
"Okay, okay," Kai said as someone wrapped a blanket over her shoulders, "are you hurt?"
"I…." Elsa said. Her shoulder was a bit sore, and she would have a bruise on her head where it had knocked against the window, but she seemed to be okay, "no. I'm fine."
"Alright. Why don't you sit by the fire and warm up. I'll have them send some soup to you," Kai said, "let me coordinate the search."
"It's about two miles down the road," she said, "they'll see the broken guardrail."
He nodded and motioned for the hotel staff to put emergency services on speaker. Elsa hovered nearby as they mobilized a response, and then there was little to do but wait. She sat by one of the fireplaces and stared through the glass at the dancing flames contained within. Small vents below allowed air in, and a black, metal chimney led directly up to the roof and out into the night air. The soothing effect of watching glowing embers and licking flames slowly consume the logs was probably the only thing that kept her from going out of her mind. Kai walked over and sat down next to her; his larger frame depressed his cushion significantly more than hers.
"Any word?" she asked.
"Emergency services are on their way. There's nothing to do now but wait," he said. "They have my mobile number, so…"
She nodded.
"I'm sorry, Elsa. I should have insisted on driving," he said.
"He blames himself," she thought.
"It's not your fault. Dad wanted to talk about some things in private," she said.
Kai nodded. She looked up at him, and she could see the question in his eyes, the apprehension.
"He's thinking it. He's wondering if I caused the ice," she thought, "but he's never asked before; he won't ask now."
She was right, and he turned back to the fire. Every ten minutes or so, he walked back to the front desk, and as the minutes turned to an hour, then crept towards two, Elsa grew warm and threw off the blanket, and Kai stayed with her and kept up the vigil. The front door opened, and Elsa and Kai both glanced over as a uniformed EMT entered the lobby. He spoke briefly with the hotel staff at the front desk, and they pointed him in their direction. Elsa stood up, as did Kai, as the EMT made his way over to them.
"Miss Anderson?" he asked, and Elsa nodded. The EMT turned to Kai, "and you are?"
"Kai. I am Mr. Anderson's chauffeur and personal assistant," he said.
"He's a trusted friend of the family," Elsa said. "Please, how is my father?"
The EMT took a deep breath.
"There's no easy way to say this. We arrived at the crash site thirty minutes ago, and while we did everything possible to save your father's life, he had succumbed to hypothermia before we arrived," he said.
The EMT kept talking for a few more seconds, but Elsa didn't hear what he said.
"N-no," she said, "I gave him my jacket so he wouldn't freeze."
"I'm so sorry, but it's bitterly cold outside. Hypothermia could set in in a matter of minutes; there's a severe frostbite warning tonight. It's a miracle you survived the journey up here on foot without proper winterwear," the EMT said. "There's nothing more you could have done. I am so sorry."
Elsa cast her mind back to those critical few moments after the crash. The wind had been gusting through the broken windows. She could have built a makeshift igloo to keep the heat of the car in before she left. It would have been easy… trivial, even. Kai and the EMT continued to speak, and she looked down at her hands.
"What is the point?" she thought, "Why did I rush off? Why didn't I stop to think for two minutes? I could have saved him if I'd only… and now he's gone… because of me."
He legs started moving almost of their own accord, and she made it all the way to the front door of the lobby before someone noticed her.
"Ma'am, you can't go out there, not without a jacket," the front desk clerk said, but she ignored him and pushed the heavy door open.
"Miss Anderson!"
"Elsa!" Kai said, but she ignored them all and turned towards the mountain. The EMT burst out into the parking lot, and Elsa broke into a run. They would not be able to keep up with her in the storm… there was no one who could. She ran alongside the parking lot and rounded the building, across a footbridge, alongside the base lodge, and onto the slopes. The calls of her name soon faded into the distance, and she continued to climb, straight up the ski slopes, following the stationary lift chairs, higher and higher as the snow continued to blow. She reached the dark lodge at the top of the ski resort, paused for a moment, then continued to climb. The slopes grew steeper as she ascended, until she reached a ridge far above the ski resort. The glow of street lights and flood lights reflecting off snow and clouds was the only light here, but it was still plenty to see by. Even wearing sneakers and only her sweatshirt, the bitter cold, temperature that had killed her father in an hour or two, had no effect on her. She drove her legs onward, continued climbing until the sense of loss and guilt at what had happened was buried beneath the detachment of the Ice Queen. Alone, here at the top of the mountain, she wouldn't hurt anyone. The ridge ended at a rounded peak. She'd expected something craggy, but instead it was a snowy plateau about ten meters across.
"I don't feel cold. Not even a chill," she thought.
She ripped her sneakers off; her ankles were covered in packed snow and slush, and she peeled her socks off as well to stand barefoot at the peak of the mountain. It was cool, almost comfortable. Yet, it had killed her father.
"What the fuck," she thought. Her sweatshirt and jeans came off next, and she had the presence of mind to shove them down into the snow a little bit so they wouldn't blow away.
"Why," she thought as she fell to her knees. The feathery snow hid slightly harder pack beneath that gave a little bit as it embraced her shins and calves. Her t-shirt fell on top of the rest of her clothes, followed by her bra.
"Screw it, I've gone this far," she thought, and her panties came off next. She even pulled her braid out. She shoved her underwear on top of the rest of her clothes into the little hollow in the snow, then stood up, completely nude in the storm. For a brief second, she worried someone might see her out in public without any clothing at all, but then she realized it was after midnight on a dangerously cold December evening, well above the highest ski lift. She spread her arms and fell backwards to lay supine on the drifts, and stared up at the clouds as snow continued to fall and blow, threatening to bury her completely.
"Still not cold, at all," she thought, "but you can make it colder, can't you."
She stood up and brushed herself off, then put her hands in front of her, fingers splayed, as if she were holding a volleyball in two hands.
"Focus. Make it cold, colder than anything you've ever done before," she thought. A patch of darkness formed between her hands as she pushed, and a tendril of deep maroon or dark pink grew into swirling blotches mixed in with the black. "Colder. Come on Elsa, more."
Steam blew away from between Elsa's hands, and something dripped onto the snow. With dull realization, she came to understand that the air itself had liquified and was falling to her feet, where it boiled away and evaporated in the sub-zero temperature of the mountain peak. Elsa gritted her teeth and poured as much as she could into the tiny ball of pure cold, then pressed it into her thigh, where it dissipated and a layer of frost formed on her skin. She brushed it away; not even a hint of gooseflesh. She huffed.
"Why?" she asked as she looked up at the clouds, "why am I like this? Am I even human? What is the point?"
She extended both hands up to the heavens and unleashed a tempest of snow and wind. Lightning flashed, unbound hair whipped in the gale, and at the center of the vortex, Elsa urged the spinning winds faster. They spiraled out, to who knew how far.
"What is the point if I can't protect the ones I care about, the ones I love… what is the point if all I can do is hurt people?" she thought.
With a scream, she unleashed her frustration into the storm. Maybe putting out so much would exhaust her powers completely, and then she'd be normal. Maybe putting out this much would kill her. At least then it would be over. Instead, she vented her frustration until it was spent, then fell forward on all fours. Throat hoarse, she swallowed a few times, then sat down in the snow and crossed her legs.
"I'm alone, all alone," she thought. Tears would not come, but the clouds cleared enough to reveal stars in places, and eventually the gibbous moon. Tiny flakes continued to fall, glittering against her breasts and limbs in Luna's silvery glow.
"It's pretty," she thought. Her leg started to fall asleep, and she shifted, then stood up again.
"You're not alone. There's Kai, and Gerda, and the entire company to think about," she thought, "it's all going to fall to you now."
She didn't want to think about it, but reality would set in soon enough. There would be meetings with lawyers, with the board of directors, with Kai and the rest of the staff, a funeral to plan. Her stomach rumbled; she hadn't eaten since the flight.
"That's reason enough to get moving," she thought, "plus it'll be dawn at some point."
She rummaged around for her clothes and eventually found them buried in the snow, all except her hair tie, which had been lost to the storm. She paused with her bra in her hand then rolled her eyes and shoved it into the pocket of her sweatshirt, then pulled the rest of her clothing back on. Picking her way down the mountain was easier than climbing up, and once she reached the ski slopes, she half slid, half ran down to the base lodge. The storm had dumped a meter of snow onto the ground, and she could barely make out the path in the dim, pre-dawn light. She trudged her way around the lodge and on to the hotel. By the front door, she paused to pat herself down and run her hands over her body to brush as much snow off her clothing as she could, then pushed her way into the lobby. She immediately spotted Kai, dark circles under his eyes, who breathed a sigh of relief. The small man next to him, Mr. Weaselton, her father's COO, also looked over, and the whiskers of his moustache twitched as he recognized her. Both men walked towards her.
"Elsa, are you okay?" Kai asked.
"I'm fine. Hungry," she replied.
"Miss Anderson, please accept my deepest sympathies for your loss. If there is anything I can do, you have but to ask," Weaselton said, then he looked her up and down. "What happened? You couldn't possibly have been out in the storm all night."
"Of course not. I needed some time alone, and I stayed in the base lodge. Thank you for your concern," she replied, then turned to Kai, "I'd like to settle affairs as quickly as possible. Arrange a meeting with my father's lawyers."
Kai and Mr. Weaselton exchanged a glance.
"Are you sure you're up to that so soon?" the driver asked.
"Yes. As soon as I've had some sleep, that is," she replied.
"Ah, the EMTs recovered your luggage from the wreck, it's with the front desk," Kai said.
She nodded and turned, but as she walked over, she couldn't shake the feeling that something was not quite right.
"What's wrong with me? Why don't I care?" she thought, immediately followed by, "who cares why you don't care? You have things to do; figure it out later."
"Here you go, one cheeseburger, medium, one rack of baby back ribs, a coke, and a sprite," Anna said as she set the meals down on the table. "Can I get you anything else?"
A week and a half into her new job as a waitress at TGI Friday's, and she was finally starting to get the hang of it. Normally she'd have asked Kristoff for hours at the ice rink, but with him refusing to return her calls, she was left to her own devices to try and earn some cash over the holidays. Luckily, restaurants were hiring. When it was busy, the tips were good, but the problem was when business was slow.
"Hopefully it stays busy through New Years," she thought.
He feet ached, her arms were sore, she was sure her hair smelled like fries, and she still had a bike ride to get home, but it was better than sitting around not earning a paycheck. She restocked the napkins and condiments in her section and clocked out, then suited up with a heavy jacket, hat, scarf, and gloves before getting on her bike. The wind was still frigid cold against her slacks, but without a car, it was the best way for her to get to the restaurant and home. She made it in time to shower and change for midnight mass. They barely went to church anymore, except for holidays, but Christmas was one of them. Anna wavered, then settled on dark stockings and a festive red dress, thought about makeup but then decided against it, and then she was out the door and into the back seat of the car. The nave of their church had been decorated for the holiday, with faux holly leaves and candles, and as usual, was filled to the brim for Christmas mass. They managed to find seats near the back, and her father gladly sat down and set his cane by the end of the row. Anna went through the motions and stood, sat, or kneeled as required. Her father put one donation envelope in while she put the other. All the while, all she could think about was her bed waiting for her at home. During the homily, where the priest discussed the words of John he had read earlier, she started drifting… until a sharp elbow in the ribs from her mom snapped her awake, eyes wide.
"And so we see that it is Christ who calls upon each of us as individuals to love one another, and if we can do this, then we are truly living as God intended."
Anna blinked a few times to try and keep herself from falling asleep again.
"Just a few more minutes, then we eat the wafer and get out of here," she thought.
She passed out in the car ride home, and was barely able to drag herself from there to her bed to fall into a coma until morning. The next morning, still wearing her church clothes, she woke up and spotted her laptop sitting on her desk. She powered it on and opened Skype… still no reply from Elsa, not that she expected one at this point, but it was the same every morning… she imagined seeing a response, then frown when there was none. After showering and changing, she headed to the living room. For Christmas, her parents had gotten her new hockey gloves, which… while practical since her old ones now sported numerous holes, they didn't really make her jump up and down like Christmases past.
"Maybe I'm just too old to get excited for presents anymore," she thought.
Lunch was roast ham, pineapple, sweet potatoes, and a mix of vegetables. After saying grace, Anna chewed absently and thought about her shift later, thought about school, and her play, but most of all, she thought about Elsa.
"You believe this? Legislation to make discrimination against queers a hate crime," her father said.
He set the paper down on the table and continued reading as he ate.
"I mean… it kind of makes sense. There's violence against them, right?" Anna said.
"Yeah there's always violence," her father said, "but the solution to discrimination isn't more discrimination."
Anna looked at him questioningly, and he sighed.
"Look, everyone knows discrimination is bad, then why not stop discriminating? Now, there's gonna be different rules for different people. Used to be, punch someone in the face, you go to jail. Now, it's gonna be, punch this guy go to jail for a day, punch that guy go to jail for a year." He pointed his fork at her, "That's the definition of discrimination."
"Yeah but, if someone gets punched because they're gay or whatever, isn't that worse than for some random other reason?" Anna said.
Her father grunted.
"Punch is a punch. Plus, maybe if they weren't in your face about it all the time, they wouldn't be getting it in the first place," he said. "Honestly, if I was holding parades and screaming for attention all over, I'd hope somebody knocked some sense into me, too."
Anna looked to her mom, but she kept her eyes focused on her plate. Her father kept eating.
"Don't get me wrong, I feel bad for them. They've got it rough for sure, but so does everyone who's not quite right in the head," he said as he chewed. "What they need is mental help. More laws and legitimacy is just going to make it worse."
Anna set her fork down. Something resembling chagrin crawled up from her gut, and her expression hardened.
"Well… What if it was someone close to you? Would you still feel the same way?" Anna asked. Somewhere deep down, she realized she was echoing Elsa, but she ignored that for the time being.
"Someone? Like who?" he asked.
"I don't know, one of your friends," Anna replied.
"I'm a grown man with a busted back, I don't have the luxury of friends… but I'd hope he got the help he needed," he said
"You wouldn't just… accept him the way he was?" Anna asked.
Her father shrugged.
"I'd accept he was confused. Then I'd help him get laid and hopefully that'd fix him right up," he said with a smirk, then took another bite of ham.
"I seriously can't believe you," Anna said.
"Why? It's not normal. There's a reason there's no gay animals, only some messed up people who choose to live that way," he said. "Imagine it were all of us. Pretty soon there wouldn't be any people left."
Anna paused.
"Is it a choice? Can't imagine anyone would choose to be gay if they could," she thought, "actually, bisexual sounds like the most fun… Don't get distracted!"
She shook her head. It didn't matter whether it was a choice or not. She pictured Elsa, pictured her father trying to help 'fix' her 'condition', imagined her shrinking as he casually insulted her to her face, and red-hot ire bubbled up from deep inside. Her chair scraped as she stood, hands on hips, and her mother's eyes widened.
"Why the hell do we even go to church and listen to that 'love thy neighbor' crap if we're just going to ignore it?" Anna said as she gestured with one hand, "Or does that not count for people who are different?"
"Where the hell is this coming from? I knew hanging out with those drama queers would mess with your head. Sit down," her father said.
"No," she said.
"Sit down, now," he said.
"I've lost my appetite," she said, then turned her back and stormed off to her room.
"Let her go," her mom said quietly as she left. Anna slammed her door, fumed for a few minutes, then pulled out her phone to call Rapunzel.
"Hello?" she answered.
"Hey, can I come over?" Anna asked.
"Uhh, sure," Punzie replied.
Anna pulled on her shoes and jacket, then packed up her laptop and a few changes of clothes, and shoved them all into her bookbag.
"Where do you think you're going?" her father asked as she emerged from her room.
"Out," Anna replied. She exited to the garage and hopped on her bike, then rode with one hand on the handlebars as she called Rapunzel with the other.
"I'm on my way. Can I crash at your place for a few days?" she asked.
"Y…yeah. What happened?" Rapunzel asked.
"My dad happened, I'll tell you when I get there," Anna replied, then folded her phone and zipped it inside her jacket pocket. Figuring it would be good for conditioning, she rode hard, taking out her frustration on the pedals. By the time she reached Rapunzel's house, she'd broken a sweat despite the freezing temperature. Punzie opened the door as soon as she knocked. Her friend took one look at her face and frowned.
"That bad huh?" she asked. "Let's go downstairs."
Anna slipped out of her shoes as she entered, while Punzie led the way into the house, down the wooden steps, and into the finished basement. Thick beige carpeting covered the floor, and drywall had been set up along three walls, while the fourth remained bare, except for a red hockey goal painted on amidst hundreds of black rubber marks. A hard plastic sheet had been laid down nearby, to simulate ice, along with a bucket of pucks. At the opposite end of the basement, a couch sat facing a television and a stack of DVDs against one wall, while ski and snowboarding equipment leaned against another. Rapunzel closed the door behind them to give them some privacy.
"Wanna take some shots?" she asked.
Anna nodded, and Rapunzel dumped the bucket out onto the plastic, and they picked up a pair of old hockey sticks.
"He's such a dick," Anna said as she fired a slap shot at the wall. Rapunzel set up to practice her backhand so they could face one another.
"What did he say?" the blonde asked.
"All this stuff about how gay people are abnormal, blah blah blah," Anna replied, "usually I wouldn't say anything, but this time all I could think of was Elsa and-"
"Elsa?" Rapunzel said.
Anna fell silent for a second.
"Y-yeah," she replied.
"Wait, Elsa's gay?" Rapunzel asked.
"Crap. I probably shouldn't have mentioned that. Keep it between us?" Anna asked.
Rapunzel nodded, then took another shot. She frowned as it wobbled through the air.
"So anyway, this time I had to say something and it just blew up from there," Anna said.
"There's not much you can do, it's not like he's going to change," Rapunzel said.
"Hence why I'm crashing at your place," Anna said as she took another slap shot, "thanks, by the way."
They kept shooting until they ran out of pucks, then gathered most of them back to practice another round.
"Do you think she likes you?" Rapunzel asked.
"Who, Elsa?" Anna asked. She shook her head. "She said she didn't."
"Hmm," Rapunzel said. They stayed silent until all the pucks had been shot a second time, then Anna wandered about with her stick to gather them and pass them over to the general area of the bucket, where Rapunzel waited to scoop them up and toss them in. Pucks cleaned up, Rapunzel flicked on the TV while Anna set the sticks next to the skis and snowboards. Rapunzel's old snowboard, which she had lent to Anna for the past two seasons, leaned against the wall next to her hot pink new one.
"My parents are going on a trip early next year, they said I can use the cabin," Rapunzel said, "you'll come, right?"
"Are you kidding? Of course I'll be there, just let me know when," Anna replied.
Rapunzel settled on a 'Friends' rerun, and they flopped onto opposite ends of the couch. Anna folded her legs beneath her as she tried to distract herself with the shenanigans on the screen.
"Are you sure she doesn't like you?" Rapunzel asked.
Anna's brain wandered around a bit looking for something to connect Rapunzel's question to.
"Oh, Elsa," she thought.
"I'm sure if she did, I'd know. Why?" Anna asked.
"I didn't really think about it before, but she's always looking at you in practice," Rapunzel replied.
Anna shrugged.
"We're friends, and she gives me pointers on my game," she replied.
"Well, whatever you're doing, it's definitely helped; you've improved a lot since our first game," Rapunzel said. It was high praise coming from Rapunzel, who had played on the top line before Elsa had shown up.
Anna chuckled.
"Thanks," she said.
They watched an episode, and then Anna had to leave for work, which was luckily closer to Punzie's house than her own. It wasn't until she stepped in a puddle near the rear entrance and felt an icy flood in her shoe that she realized the sole had come off, and had started to flop around as she walked.
"Great, just what I need," she thought. Obviously, she needed new shoes, but springing for a pair would cost everything she'd made waitressing so far. So, she swiped some duct tape from the maintenance closet and wrapped it several times around the front of her shoe.
"Good enough," she thought as she admired her handiwork.
Later that evening, after her shift, she texted Punzie to let her in, then set her laptop up in the guest bedroom. Anna checked Skype like she always did, but the last message was still hers; Elsa hadn't replied. Anna sighed and mulled over what Rapunzel had said, that Elsa liked her. She supposed it could be possible.
"Not that it matters, since she's so angry she hasn't talked to you in a week and a half," she thought. She didn't bother to shower, or change, and passed out on top of the covers.
"With regards to Anderson Shipping, all of my shares likewise pass to my daughter, Elsa, but my position of Chairman and CEO will be entrusted to my friend, Duke Weaselton, to be managed to the best of his ability until the earlier of two events: Elsa declares her intent to take over leadership of the firm, or the day she turns twenty-four years of age."
The lawyer paused and looked up at the room, and Elsa nodded to him.
"Is that all?" she asked.
"Yes," he replied, "do you wish to declare your intent to take over leadership of the firm today?"
She glanced to Mr. Weaselton, whose bushy moustache twitched ever so slightly.
"No. I will leave the company in the capable hands of my father's COO for the time being," Elsa replied.
His shoulders relaxed ever so slightly; he'd actually been worried she would take over immediately.
"I will continue to serve as I have for the past twenty-five years," Weaselton replied, "though I may call on you from time to time."
She nodded in response.
"If there's nothing else?" she asked.
"No, that was the final item in the will," the lawyer replied.
Without ceremony, Elsa stood up, shook hands with the lawyer and Weaselton, then ignored everyone else as she walked to the exit. Her heels clicked on the floor and echoed around the lift lobby. Weaselton did not join her as she left the law firm's office, so she descended on her own, and met Kai in the lobby.
"Let's go," she said.
She sat in the back seat of the car, crossed her legs, then donned her sunglasses as they drove towards the outskirts of Oslo, to her family home. Throughout the wake and the funeral, she'd felt numb, detached, like it was her role to watch other people cry and be upset. She'd heard the whispers about her behavior, about how it was odd she didn't seem to be grieving at all, but they didn't bother her. It was the same at the house, where Gerda all but broke down, then thanked her profusely when Elsa had calmly informed her that her father's staff would keep their jobs for the foreseeable future.
"It's been days, now. It's never lasted this long," Elsa thought. She stared out the window as the city gave way to parks and fields. At some level, even though she didn't care, she felt the wrongness of it. She hadn't used her powers in days, not since climbing the mountain, but still the numbness continued. "What if it never goes away?"
They drove directly into the garage; she didn't want to be seen outside by anyone in the town. "No doubt they'll blame me for Father's death, too," she thought.
"Do you need anything ma'am?" Gerda, the housekeeper asked.
"No thank you Gerda, I think I'd just like to be alone for a little while," Elsa replied.
"Very good ma'am," Gerda replied. Elsa climbed the steps to her old room, tossed her blouse and skirt on the bed, pulled on jeans and her favorite sweatshirt, then sat at the desk and drummed her fingers on the table.
"How do I fix this?" she thought. Her eyes fell to the cookie tin to her right. With everything going on, she'd barely given a thought to Anna, which in itself seemed wrong. "Did she really fake everything?" A tiny twinge of betrayal twisted in her chest, the first real feeling she'd experienced in days. She switched on her laptop and opened Skype; Anna had left her a message, asking to chat.
"Over a week ago," she thought. She typed back a response: "Are you there?"
She left the laptop open while she munched a cookie, then checked her watch. Of course Anna hadn't seen it; it wasn't even sunup in New Hampshire. Just then, a notification popped up: "Yes, can I call you?"
"Ok"
The notification for an incoming call appeared on the screen, and Elsa clicked the accept button. It took a second, but Anna's grainy face appeared. She had clearly just rolled out of bed, and her hair, while not a complete disaster, was not exactly what Elsa would call put together. She smirked.
"I'm so glad you called, err messaged, whatever," Anna said, "I was starting to worry you wouldn't call at all. I just wanted to say I'm so, so sorry. Yes, Coach asked me to try and convince you to play, but honestly, I would have done it anyway. And we had so much fun together, that was all real, I swear. I don't know how I can convince you, but you have to at least let me try-"
Elsa blinked.
"Anna," she said, "I believe you."
Even with the grainy, low frame rate video, Anna's relief was palpable through the screen.
"Oh, good. I was really worried," she said.
"Something's happened. My father died. The day I arrived," Elsa said.
Anna's mouth dropped open in a perfect 'o' shape.
"Oh. Oh my God. That's why you didn't call. Oh Elsa I'm so sorry. What happened?" Anna said.
"It was a… car accident," Elsa said, "I was with him."
"Are you okay?" Anna asked. Elsa's hand went to the bump on her head, which had almost fully healed.
"I'm fine," she replied.
"Except now I'm numb to everything," she thought.
"And your mom…" Anna said.
"Died when I was young. I'm all alone now," Elsa replied. Her chest ached, and she breathed deep.
"If you need anything," Anna said, but then her shoulders drooped slightly, "not like I can do anything from here, but… if you need anything at all…"
"I'm okay. Just… maybe to talk from time to time," Elsa said.
"Like a friend?" Anna asked.
Tears welled up as she realized she didn't have any friends, not real friends anyway, only Anna. Hot and stinging, they blurred her vision, and Elsa nodded.
"I have to go," she said. She didn't want to break down in front of her.
"Okay," Anna said, "Oh my God Elsa, I'm so…. I'm working most afternoons and evenings, but message me and maybe we can talk in the morning or after my shift ends."
Elsa nodded.
"Talk soon. Bye," she said, and clicked the 'End Call' button. She locked the door, then moved to her bed and buried her face in the thick comforter.
"I'm alone. It's just me," she thought. Images flashed through her mind, all the times she'd blown off her father's phone calls as annoyances, rebuffed his requests to work side by side. "I should have just talked to him some more."
She would never have a chance to make that right. The tears flowed, and she let them, relished in them. After so long of having not felt anything at all, to have the ache of grief in her chest was like a soothing balm for her soul. After some time, she picked herself up, then moved to the bathroom to wash her face and clean up a bit. She had a few days of holiday left; she knew what she had to do.
Hoodie and dark sunglasses on, Elsa sat in her rented car outside the small townhouse in Copenhagen. She'd seen her ex-girlfriend's parents leave earlier in the day, and now she found herself hoping her ex still lived there. Finally, the door opened, and there she was, long, fiery red hair as vibrant as ever. Elsa stepped out of the car and approached as she locked the door.
"Ariel," she said. Her ex turned around and spotted her immediately, and her hand went to her chest.
"Elsa," she said as she looked around, then her voice dropped to a whisper, "what are you doing here?"
"I wanted to talk to you, and I don't have your number anymore," Elsa replied.
"So… you flew here and waited outside my house?" Ariel asked.
"Well, when you put it like that, it does sound a little bit crazy," Elsa replied. Her joke must have fallen flat because Ariel didn't even crack a smile. "I wanted to make sure you're okay."
Ariel's features softened.
"I'm okay," she said.
"And your, uhh…" Elsa said. Her hand went to her own lower back.
"The part that didn't get removed still has some function, and the doctors say it looks like it's even healing a little bit," Ariel replied, "plus, I have another kidney, so, it's not that bad."
"I'm so sorry-"
"I know," Ariel said, "You know I never thought it was your fault… but we can't. It's just… I'm seeing someone."
Elsa grimaced despite herself. Even though their relationship had ended over a year ago, the words still stung.
"Oh," she replied, "it's going well?"
"Yes," Ariel replied, "very well… what about you?"
"Anna," Elsa thought.
"No. No one," she replied as she shook her head.
"I'm sure you'll find someone," Ariel said, though it rang hollow. They both knew how dangerous it could be for Elsa to get that close to anyone again.
"My father's dead," Elsa said.
Ariel's mouth dropped open.
"I'm so sorry," she said, but Elsa saw the fear, the unspoken question in her eyes: 'did you kill him?'
The blonde swallowed.
"I have to go. I just wanted to make sure you're okay," Elsa said.
"And say goodbye," she thought.
She turned around and started to walk back to her car.
"Elsa?" Ariel said, and Elsa paused. "I really do hope… you can be happy."
Elsa continued walking and slid into the driver's seat. If she hurried, she could catch an earlier flight to Stockholm.
Elsa followed the mechanical sounding Australian woman's voice as she called out directions. She passed through fallow fields and barren woods as the road wound through the countryside. She'd considered making this journey for well over a year, but counseled by her father's lawyers, she hadn't.
"Well, they all work for me now," she thought. She pulled up to the modest two-story home and got out of the car, then walked up to the front stoop and knocked. A dog barked, followed by a shushing sound. Someone pulled aside the curtains of the window next to the door, and Elsa removed her sunglasses. The door cracked open, and a tall blonde slipped out, then pulled the door shut behind her to keep the dog from escaping. She wore a thick plastic boot over one foot and calf and carried a cane, both necessities due to the long-term nerve damage Elsa had inflicted upon her.
"Anderson, it is you," she said as she glanced around to ensure they were alone, "what are you doing here?"
"Aurora," Elsa said, "my father passed away."
The Swedish hockey player didn't even bat an eyelash.
"He was the one who wouldn't allow any payment for the stem cell treatments," Elsa said, "I'm here to say, if you want them, I'll make sure they're paid for."
Aurora narrowed her eyes.
"Is this some kind of trick?" she asked.
"Look, no lawyers, no press, nothing. It's just you and me," Elsa said, "the offer is there, if you want it."
The taller blonde brought a thumb and forefinger to her chin and studied her carefully for a few seconds.
"I'll think about it," Aurora replied. It was a throwaway response, something Elsa would expect from someone trying to get rid of her. She nodded.
"Here," she said as she pulled out a small notepad and a pen, "this is my email address and phone number. If you want to, send me the details and I'll make sure it's taken care of."
She tore the paper off, and Aurora tentatively reached out and took it.
"Why are you doing this?" she asked.
"I… never meant to hurt you," Elsa replied, "and now I'm in a position to help, maybe. So I figured I should at least reach out."
Aurora held her gaze for several long seconds.
"Thank you for the offer, I'll… I'll need to think about it," she said.
Elsa nodded and took a step backwards, then waved and turned for her car. She waved once more as she opened the door, and Aurora raised one hand in response.
"So, basically Hans mixed the truth in with his lies," Elsa said.
"Seriously, he's something else," Anna said. "I can't believe I ever went out with him."
Anna got the idea Elsa was still apprehensive about her omitting why she got to know her in the first place, but the fact that they were already on their way to becoming friends before Coach asked her to reach out seemed to help.
"The cookies are delicious, by the way," Elsa said, "I felt bad I didn't get you anything, so I bought you a belated Christmas gift."
"I know right? You can thank my mom if you ever meet her, it's her recipe," Anna said. "Wait, you bought me something? Oohh, you didn't have to. Hopefully not too expensive… wait, so you're definitely coming back?"
Elsa smiled as the words tumbled out of her, and Anna clamped her mouth shut.
"I am, but I won't be playing," the blonde replied. "There will be too much going on with the company and all. Sorry about the season, and… your scholarship, I guess."
Anna quirked her lips to one side.
"Oh, that's okay. We'll do our best without you, and seriously don't worry about my scholarship, I'll figure it out," Anna said. "But… we'll still be able to hang out from time to time, right?"
Her voice sounded overly hopeful, even to herself, and Elsa hesitated for a second.
"Sure," she replied.
Elsa wasn't playing hockey, so Anna figured this was her chance to show her that she didn't just get close to her just because she wanted her to play. The blonde stifled a yawn.
"It's late, and my flight is before noon tomorrow, so I really should get some rest," she said.
"Okay, see you tomorrow?" Anna asked.
"…maybe. We'll see," Elsa said.
The call ended, and Anna was about to close her laptop, but then she hesitated. With Rapunzel's words ringing in her ears, she opened the folder with the photos from New York. One by one, she scrolled through and studied the pictures, taking the time to zoom in on each one. Then she stopped. There, at the top of the Empire State Building, in a selfie photo Anna had taken, both of them wearing sunglasses… Anna had puffed out her cheeks like a complete goofball, and Elsa wore a wistful smile, but she had turned her head slightly. Anna leaned forward and squinted. The angle of the sun let her see one of Elsa's eyes behind her dark lenses. She wasn't looking at the camera for the photo, rather, her gaze was fixed on Anna's face.
"Is it possible?" she thought.