So, it's kinda weird, but today's just one of those days where nothing really seemed to happen. Almost like I'm just going through the motions. Part of me knows that this kind of disengagement is a troubling sign. And another part of me doesn't want to acknowledge that. Because ever since I told Joan about 'the mourning' where we shared everything, the end of the story has been tugging at my mind. I'm not in a dark place, just kind of sad. I know it will pass, but I have to accept what it is now before it can get better. Or look for support.

Or have the support find me, as Kristoff wanders out of the kitchen—he's cooking tonight. "You doing okay?"

I shake my head slowly. "Just… the end of the story. I keep thinking about it."

"Just thinking?" His voice is neutral.

"It's playing on my mind," I sigh heavily. "And maybe I'm afraid of reliving it. Afraid of what it might do to Joan, hearing that. Afraid I won't be able to comfort her because I'll need it more."

He moves to behind the couch and wraps his arms around my shoulders, kissing the top of my head. "I'll be here, anything you need—anything either of you needs—I'll be here. Just like I was then."

I turn awkwardly, far enough that I can kiss him. "I love you."

"Ewww…" That's Joan, just coming down the stairs. "I think I just lost my appetite."

"Really?" I hear Kristoff turn to face her. "I'm doing the fancy chicken-noodle-stew thing. Besides, your mom was just having a bit of a rough day, she needed to cheer up."

"With that?" I almost laugh at the pique in her voice.

I turn around, kneeling on the couch, arms over the back of it. I give our daughter a devious smile. "Yes. Yes I did need that."

"So, how long until it's ready?"

Kristoff glances towards the clock. "At least half an hour, and there's more I need to get done out there. You can try distracting your mother."

Joan frowns at him, then gives me a questioning look.

"I'm remembering things around Elsa's death. Feelings, too." I sigh again. "It's not for a long time yet, in the story, but sometimes the memories just come back."

"Do you want to talk about it, with me?" I frown, noting the way she just asked that. More mature? Learning from Tina and Bex?

"It's not something you should have to carry," I give her a soft smile. "But thank you for asking."

"What about hearing some more of your story, is that okay?"

"Of course," I can give her a real smile this time, and I gesture towards the cushions on the couch. "I think it might be one of the happiest memories, actually."

As Joan sits down next to me, I can see the memory spark behind her eyes. "Oh right, because Elsa was just about to—"

"Don't spoil it for yourself." I stick my tongue out at her.

–∞–

I knew it was still cold out, so I wouldn't have been able to wear any of my really light dresses. I wanted to as well, just to tease Elsa a bit. She was so good at it, and I needed to get my own back. Somehow. Risqué clothing was out of the question, given we still had a little snow. So I opted to wear a long dress, pale yellow, in a mermaid cut. Backless too, so she would see I wasn't wearing anything else on top. There was a little white jacket I could wear over it if I got cold. Part of me wished for something extra to wear under it, to help fill it out better.

Maybe I was still kind of jealous at how good Elsa could look in certain dresses. Or suits. Or pretty much anything. Or nothing…

"Focus, Anna." I chided myself, looking in the mirror.

The dress was fine, and the cut of the jacket seemed right. It was my hair that was the real problem. I'd considered washing it when we got back from Megeara's Spa, but there just wouldn't have been time to dry it properly. So that left me considering up-dos, braids, or even a simple ribbon to bind it. Elsa was inviting me on a date—she'd asked me—and I wanted to look my best. But that didn't have to mean complicated. Twin braids would do—and later it became became kind of a signature style when we went out together for semi-formal stuff.

Hair done, that left make-up and jewellery. I never was big on make-up. Decent with concealer to hide bruises, and simple things because he had wanted me to "look pretty for everyone". Tonight I was going to look beautiful. And I would do it for myself as much as I was doing it for Elsa. A little foundation. Then blush. Enough to look a bit brighter, but not hide my freckles. Eye shadow, and that left me with interesting choices. Metallic green, but applied lightly. I did always like the way green brought out both my hair and my eyes. Lipstick. Pale pink, almost natural colour. I opted not to use mascara—taking the time to really look at myself, and understand what Elsa was treating me to today had brought tears to my eyes.

Jewellery was the final step. Earrings, of course, and maybe a necklace. Bracelets too? I wasn't sure. Then I thought of something to tease her with. A little platinum chain anklet. It would just be visible below the hem of the dress when I moved. Hopefully. Then earrings. I chose a simple pair that had a droplet shaped orange gem hanging from them. I remembered choosing them many years ago, one very rare gift from Hans. They shone like fire when the light hit them just right. I wished they weren't associated with those memories, but they were among my favourites for how they looked. I frowned. I'd paid some towards them, despite it being a 'gift'. They were mine.

I shook my head and sighed. The necklace was easy, and something old. My mother had given it to me, a simple gold chain, with a tiny ruby carved into a heart shaped pendant hanging from it. Something old—that stirred a memory, and a wish. Because we would be married, and because this would suit perfectly for that tradition. Elsa would appreciate it. Shoes too. Low heels, with narrow straps woven together over the foot and around the heel. It would be fine as long was we weren't moving around too much. And if we were—I shrugged, I was fine if I had to go barefoot.

Last of all, a little handbag, just big enough to hold the essentials, black leather, silver clasp. Not a name brand bag or anything. In fact, it was old enough I couldn't remember where I'd got it, or why. I stood and turned a circle, watched myself in the mirror. I saw the smile tugging at the corner of my lips. Just for a moment, out of the corner of my eye, I'd seen it. I saw myself how she must have, and I understood.

I opened the door. I was suddenly very happy that dresses couldn't give away the way I was feeling in a specific moment. I know Elsa saw the blush.

She was a vision, standing there in a three piece suit, one finger casually holding a tie that went over her shoulder. I had to look. Up and down, top to bottom, all around. Slacks in pale cream. Shirt in icy blue. White jacket just draped over her shoulders—the one I'd got her for Christmas. The black tie with a silver snowflake motif was a startling contrast. The way she stood there, that slight lean. How her body filled out that shirt. Blouse. It was a blouse, I was just blindsided by her casual elegance.

She winked, then smiled, beckoning with a single finger as she turned her cheek towards me. "You may."

I stumbled back half a step, completely ruining the impression I was going to make as I collided with the wall. She giggled, fingers over her lips, then helped me straighten myself out.

"Are you okay there, Anniken?"

I placed a melodramatic hand over my heart. "I think my girlfriend is trying to kill me with her wardrobe."

Elsa laughed again, slowly fixing the tie around her collar. "You are looking extra beautiful tonight. Those earrings are amazing."

"Thank you," I held an earring forward with a finger and let it move slowly. "Yes, they are. It looks like dancing fire, right?"

She squinted. "A little. Maybe the hallway lights are not good enough."

I shrugged lightly, then leaned in to wrap an arm around her shoulders. "You look absolutely stunning tonight."

She did, and not just from the suit and tie ensemble. Her hair was up in a single braid, dusted with something that shone like silver. I could see she'd used a little blush too, but there were tiny flecks of silver metallic, so it looked like she'd been dusted by fresh miniature snow. The pale blue eye shadow was applied sparingly, but I could see the little feathered details past the corner of her eyes. One day I would steal that trick from her. I leaned in even closer, our lips nearly touching.

She took the lead, pulling me closer, holding me tight as we kissed.

I let out a breath I hadn't known I was holding.

"Did I really take your breath away?" Elsa winked at me.

"No, I just forgot." I left an overly long pause. "Again."

We both had a fit of the giggles at that. After a moment we regained our composure and I gave her a slight questioning look.

"So, you driving?"

She nodded. "We should be going soon. I made the reservations for eight."

I tried to stop myself. I really did. "…but there's only two of us."

Elsa sighed and shook her head. I could hear the smile in her voice. "Never change."

The restaurant was fancy. I frowned, trying to think of a more fitting word. Elegant? Refined? Classy? I shrugged. All those things, and probably more besides. My brain finally settled on 'expensive' and left it at that. Mostly because we were being escorted to our table. Not in the corner, and not a window seat, but positioned well enough. We were handed menus and reading through the list I found far too much French. I gave Elsa a look.

"It's not a French restaurant, but their sous chef is. Seems pretty big on traditional recipes from tonight's menu."

"I thought you would have done, like, research or something…"

"I did," she smiled, and I felt her leg touch mine under the table. "I am only teasing a little. There are several more pages to that menu. In English."

There were, and then some more French. Then a page with both for desserts and wines. I put the menu down, then took a deep breath, not quite sure of myself. "Is this… is this for real?"

"A real date?" Elsa sounded almost shocked. There was a hint of sadness behind it.

"Sorry," I buried my face in my hands, trying to take another breath. I almost couldn't. "It's just… everything. You made all of today, and it happens, like you promised, and just for me, and…"

I can't remember if I got anything else out. I kept my face hidden. I don't know why, but I did. She'd seen me cry before. Maybe it was just feeling… everything.

I felt strong hands gently lowering mine. She reached across the table with a serviette to dab at my tears. I tried so hard not to flinch. It felt wrong—like all of it was dream, and was going to vanish in an instant. There was a scuff like a chair moving across carpet.

I heard whispers in my ear as Elsa knelt next to me. I could see her. Candles. Silverware. Other diners. Windows. I could hear people. Lots of them. Clinking glasses and the occasional ring of cutlery against something. Something noisy in the kitchen, with fans or something. Footsteps around the restaurant. I felt Elsa's hands on mine. A little bit warm as the kitchen doors swooshed open and a waitress came out. My shoes digging in a little bit. I drew in a deep breath. I could smell so many things. Delicious foods, and a whiff of strong wines.

I didn't need to taste anything. Besides, we would be getting dinner soon. Some of the other diners stared at us. I shook my head slowly. So what, I'm still recovering.

I smiled for Elsa, and wiped away the last of the tears. "Thank you."

Elsa was back in her seat by then, and she gave me a fragile smile. "I am guessing today has been a little overwhelming for you. If you are needing to go home, I understand."

"No." I shook my head firmly. "You invited me on a date. I'm not gonna pass that up. I won't let my trauma ruin our night."

"Anna." There was slight admonition behind that tone.

"I just—I—well, you're right, I'm a bit overwhelmed by having a whole day dedicated to me. More than a bit." I laughed softly. I wished there was more humour in it. "Like… how do I deserve this? Deserve you? My heart's telling me one thing and my head says another. I need time to work through all my feelings. Time. And therapy."

She facepalmed. Then frowned at me. "You are saying that on purpose."

I smiled for her.

"If you are feeling better, I have ideas for ordering. And desserts."

All these years later I cant remember what we ordered for dinner. Or even entrees. I'll never forget the dessert though. A Nordic style mille-feuille. A variation, actually, because the traditional version does not use multekrem on the top layer. I know I left like a billion crumbs on my plate. But the way it mixed the pastry and the cream and custard, and the fancy patterned icing that tasted mostly like sugar. It was so good—and later I tried making my own, but pastry is hard to do—but it was only half the reason to remember our dessert that night.

I also noticed the way Elsa kept the conversation light during our dessert. Maybe a little too light, even for us being together in public. This seemed like more than her usual reticence. The way she took deeper breaths, like she wanted to calm herself. Her glance often strayed to the little clutch she'd brought along. I wasn't sure what made her so nervous, but I knew it had to be big. So I sat there, and rested my hands in front of me, one over the other. Properly ladylike—or so I thought. At least it kept me from fidgeting.

"Anniken—" Elsa started, then cut herself off. "Anna, I think I have known you for less than six months of my life. You kept coming back to me at the start. I could not keep you away. You showed me your strength and determination. Your kindness, in giving me somewhere to stay. Your heart, for giving me your love. You gave me a reason to keep going on my darkest days. You make me laugh. You comfort me when I cry. You helped me find joy in sharing myself again."

I watched with bated breath as she reached into the clutch.

"But I will tell you a secret, Anna," she leaned in close, over the table. It hid what she was doing rather well. "I did not need six months to know any of that. I think I knew it the day you came back. Just like I know this now—" She leaned back and took a deep breath. I saw the jewellery box in her hands open as if in slow motion. "—I want to have you in my life, for all the rest of my life."

She smiled, holding the ring out towards me.

"Miss Anna Christian, will you marry me?"

And it was at that point my brain ground to a screeching, crashing halt. I blinked. Elsa had just proposed to me. My girlfriend. Proposed to me. In public. There were more than a few gasps, and some other diners started watching. I knew I had to say something. And fast.

"How did you… where did… when… I?" I blinked.

I could see she was still waiting for an answer. An actual answer, not the string of nonsense I'd just spouted. The longer it took, the more her expression of joy faded. I hated that I was doing this to her. Even if it was entirely accidental because she had completely blindsided me. I'm fairly sure she saw it in my eyes though. I wanted to say yes. I had to. But my brain wasn't working quite right, and hadn't caught up to what was happening.

All I could do was nod, and lift my right hand towards her. I think there was applause as Elsa slid the ring onto my finger. It was probably the wrong moment to remember our little off-hand comment from months ago.

"I guess you win."

"What?"

I smiled, quoting: "May the best proposal win".

She played along. "So, what do I win?"

I gestured up and down myself. "Me."

Elsa facepalmed, but I heard her laughter ringing out. "Never change, Anniken."

I held up the ring to really look at it. The band was actually a twinned band, two sinuous gold bands braided together. The setting was—much like Elsa—actually kind of understated in its beauty. I wasn't one for giant flashy things, and then I realised she might have chosen it out of practicality. Because with a lower gem setting I could still wear it at work. I frowned. Sometimes I'd be able to—there are some safety precautions you just don't mess with. The gems, though… here the bands separated, almost forming a cage underneath a large emerald, and a smaller stone flanked it to either side. Dotted along the bands—before they wove together—was a sextet of peridots on either side, three on each band. I learned the type of gem later, after asking Elsa what they were.

I looked at the ring again, then up at Elsa's beaming face. It was the happiest I'd ever seen her. And it was because of me.

I put my hand down, then shook my head slowly. "I'm sorry… I… uhh… I didn't get you anything."

"Today was all about you Anna," she smiled for me. "I promised you that. All about you. If you really want to, you get me a nice ring another day."

"Still…"

"Idiot," she stuck her tongue out at me for a moment. "You gave me the best gift of all."

I hadn't figured it out, but luckily, she hadn't finished.

"You became my fiancé." Her smile brightened. "And one day—soon, I hope—you'll be my wife."

–∞–

I can see Joan's smile. I feel much better myself, remembering such a good time. I probably won't tell her about afterwards, and our… celebrations… when I almost managed to carry you through the door without bumping into anything. The stairs were a bigger problem. Or did we even get up them? I can't completely remember. I just remember the door closing, and suddenly losing a lot of clothes.

"Mom?" Joan's giving me a mildly concerned look.

"Just remembering what we did later that night."

"Oh… oh, come on!"

I can't help myself. "We both did."

"Mom!" And she screams into a pillow before falling back onto the cushions.

"Sorry," I pat her on the thigh. "That was probably too much."

"You think?" Oh, the sarcasm. And that petulant look. Then suddenly her expression softens, and she's talking, almost to herself. "No, no… I'd probably do it too."

I raise an eyebrow, but I'm not saying anything.

"If someone proposed to me, I'd probably be all over them too," she smiles, a little chagrined. "Just because I don't like hearing it doesn't mean it's bad. For anyone."

I see a different half-smile, and the hint of a blush. Just what have you three been getting up to? But I hold my tongue. Just because I want to hear about it doesn't mean I need to. I haven't earned that privilege.

"So, shall we see if your father's finished cooking yet?"

And we both share the same mischievous smile.