Chapter Text
Oh my god," she interjects between snorts, "Oh Spirits, I knew that was gonna happen!"
"I know you did, " Elsa sighs over the curling wisps of her morning coffee, watching her disappointment catch in the condensation as she stood on the living room balcony again. "I could hear your giggling from over a minute ago."
It's not that she regrets relaying to Anna what happened the night before — on the contrary, Elsa knows it's a good decision. Anna is the kind of person who wouldn't think twice about ditching her entire day just to help you get out of whatever troubling situation you've found yourself into. After she stops laughing at you, at least.
"Well, you can't really blame me there, Elsa." Anna replies, her pitch finally evening out somewhat. "It was kind of obvious. By which I mean completely obvious. I mean—," Elsa hears Sven barking in the background, guessing he must have joined in with Anna and would now be an audience to Elsa's embarrassment as well. Why not?, Elsa thinks, this may as well happen. The more the merrier, when it comes to judging me and my shame.
"—if anything," Anna continues, probably having ruffled Sven's ears as he was due, "I should be the one asking you why you couldn't connect the dots? Anyone would have, to be quite honest."
"Although I can wager why." Anna barely even mumbles that part, but like any good older sister who grew up sharing living spaces and had to draw out secrets from the other kicking and screaming, Elsa's sibling-senses were tingling.
"Excuse me? What was that last part again?"
"Nothing." It was quick, pitchy, and most definitely not a nothing .
" Come. Again. Anna ."
"Oh my god it was nothing! Really! I was just saying that— uhh, you can be so— so you sometimes."
"And you were saying?" Elsa, unrelenting, demands.
"Okay, okay, fine,. You win." ( Vindication.) " I was gonna come around to it anyway. So here goes: You're an intelligent, accomplished woman who can put one and one together in her sleep most days, right? But the fact that you didn't — well, it means that kinda sorta perhaps mayhaps maybeeeee…."
"Get to the point, Anna. I'm almost done with my coffee so it's not like you have a generous window right about now."
"I think you were attracted to Honeymaren."
" WHAT?!" Elsa squaks, choking on her coffee. It's good she didn't spout out her coffee instead, because Anna would've been in some real trouble then.
"What? You wanted me to say it. So I did."
" How—When—Wha—WHY?" Elsa, finally landing on a decision, continues, "WHY would you say that?"
"Well, for one — it makes sense, doesn't it?" Anna explains, absolutely nonchalant, "I mean — she put you at ease, you found her charming, easy to talk to, your conversation flowed naturally — which, for a first meeting is kinda rare for you, dontcha think? Even special, I'd say." Elsa could literally envision Anna holding up her fingers and counting them as she spoke.
"You've kind of said a lot though, haven't you?"
"What? What did I even say? And what about what you said? You were the one describing her voice as all silky and mellifluous, for Spirit's sake. You were the one telling me all about how you thought you could smell a hint of pine and earthy aroma from her all the way over from your balcony. Like, yeesh , who even says that apart from, like, Mills & Boons protagonists. —"
"— okay, you're putting words in my mouth and taking this way out of context — " Elsa attempts at a faltering defense, before it gets bulldozed by Anna's monologue of an explanation, ignored and undignified.
"— And wait; wasn't it you who was raving to me about how her hairstyle was made into a bun and it looked super detailed and cool and whatever — which, I mean like, that's great! Good for you! Honestly. You know what, in fact? You should tell her you loved her hair and even ask her how she got it done, for crying out loud. Maybe you could ask her about the mellifluous voice and that earthy aroma of hers too. Heck, ask her out while you're at it too!"
Silence falls finally, leaving a blank space between them that was for amber-feathered, ruddle-speckled morning sparrows to fill with their own chatter at Elsa's end; and most presumably by Sven's panting and shifting on Anna's.
"So I take it you are done now?"
"Yes."
"Okay. So firstly, thank goodness — "
Anna chuckles.
"— and secondly, thanks for all of the mischaracterisation and misrepresentation of myself I have ever witnessed. Truly, some of the most creative work I've ever seen. And I work in arts, so —"
"—Hey, you tell me two plus two, I'm gonna say four.—"
"And last but not least," Elsa powers over, " I. Was. Not. Attracted. To. Maren."
"Well, you sure were distracted by her."
"For the love of Spirits, Anna. It wasn't like that. She's my neighbour, for Spirit's sake."
"And Kristoff was just a guy in the park! " Anna counters, "who came everyday with his dog just to cheer up the snotty little girl in the pigtails he knew would be sitting all by herself on the park bench looking like she's just broken it off with her emotionally stunted liar of an ex . And look at us now!"
"That's not the same thing, Anna. And you know it."
"No, actually. I don't. What's so different anyways?"
"It…" Elsa begins, but falls through. What was there to say?
It's that not everyone is going to be as lucky as having a perfect love story like you did.
It's that I'm not half as loveable or special in the way you are.
It's that I don't think I can trust anyone to grow so close to me like that , and even then I wouldn't have any clue how to.
It's that I'm pretty sure I've made peace with the fact that I'm always going to be alone like that, and maybe it wouldn't be so bad and I'll be okay, but I really don't want to try out new hopes only for them to circle right back down to disappointment.
It's just me. That's it, that's the difference all the way: It's just me.
"It's just...what it is, I guess. And it's nothing like that, by the way. Like what you said. Maren's my neighbour. I barely even know her."
"Fine," Anna says, her easy compliance coming as a bit of a pleasant surprise to Elsa. "If you say so, I guess. Anyways, moving on, what happened then?"
"What happened when?"
"You know? Afterwards? After she hung up on you and you realised Honeymaren Nattura was your neighbour who was literally looking at you face-to-face from her bedroom balcony down to your living room balcony? Remember? Don't leave me hanging there."
"Oh right! We never finished that did we? Sorry. Okay, so not much happened, really. I just kind of stood there for some time, for what feels like a bazillion years honestly — probably with the most confused and stupid look on my face — and finally, finally, I said to her, "Oh, I didn't know you went by Maren?""
"Oh geez." Anna laughs, but Elsa's doing it too and she can't really blame her if that's what the situation called for.
"Yeah. Imagine. And then she basically says that yeah, she goes by Maren and that's what I can use whenever I need help with anything and then I said thanks, while still continuing to stand there looking perfectly stupid, until she said she's going to turn in for the night and she'll talk to me later. And then finally I took the cue and my brain jump-started and my voice got all high-pitched, you know the one—"
"Ooh I know what you're talking about, I've seen that before. I've done that before."
"— exactly. And then finally I said good night and went inside, then ran into my bedroom and wrapped myself in a little weighted-blanket-ball and just rocked myself back-and-forth. Olaf came in at some point and I guess we both fell asleep."
"And then you woke up and called me first thing?"
"And then I woke up and called you first thing, that's right. You're all updated now."
"And what did Maren look like?"
"Oh my god Anna, please don't start that again." Elsa's voice echoes as she bends her mouth down to sip her coffee and finds an empty mug instead.
"Hey, it's just an innocent question. I didn't even ask it like that, I swear. Just curious, genuinely."
"Okay, well. It was kind of dark, so I'm not too sure, but I did describe her a little bit back there, didn't I? Well, there's not much to add, she looked…"
(like she belonged on that balcony , smiling down at me in the dark while the street lights lit her up like a secret just for me to see)
"What's that?"
"I said she looked fine enough." Elsa finishes. "Just fine. Nothing out of the blue."
"Okay then." Anna replies, matching Elsa in her deadpan enthusiasm.
"So yeah, that was that."
"Cool. Anything else you wanna talk about?"
"Nope. You?"
"Nah. Same old corona bad news, anyway — nothing worth discussing really. Kinda think I should let you get to work now. Kinda think I should be getting back to work."
"Good idea. Talk to you later, Krumkakes. Stay safe, okay? Love you."
"Right back at'cha. Love you too, Ice cream. Bye."
"Goodbye." Elsa says — to her sister, the fading taste of coffee and the morning sparrows — then heads inside her flat.
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"They seem ready to go, don't they, Olaf? " , Elsa asks Olaf — an ultimately futile effort as he stays stoically sprawled on the couch, inert enough for Elsa to wonder if he's even aware of his surroundings or spaced out and gone wherever it is cats spend half of their day.
He sure was curious earlier, however. Once Elsa had decided today was the day — on account of it being a weekend, all her supplies and equipments picked out and ready to go, and all the time she needed in her hands — it would only be procrastination to not get it done today itself.
So Elsa did. She had knelt down on the living room floor, arranged the pots alphabetically in a line like a little marching band, ripped open the massive and surprisingly heavy packet and started pouring potting earth in them. That's when Olaf did come around,sniffing everything and twitching his tail and watching with his dark eyes wide in all his supervising glory. "Aww, find everything to your liking, little guy? Any suggestions you got for me?" Elsa had cooed after him as she scratched his chin with dirt wrist-deep on her hands.
To Elsa's defense, she had read the Oaken's Succulents & Cactus Starter-kit instruction manual over and over again, to the point she would have worn down just one copy if she hadn't bought three separate sets of the same thing.
But there's only four succulents in one kit and three of them in total, so I had to buy them all if I wanted all twelve of the total varieties, and they're all so cute it would've been unfair of me to buy just one set of them! It was the same reason she gave herself when she had clicked the purchase website back in the early days of Lockdown, and it was the same she stood by right now, standing up to see the twelve soil-fuls of pots arranged in a row.
Now all that's left is for you guys to shine! Elsa scoops up the first two — Ansel and Crystal — in her arms and walks carefully over to the balcony, eyes not leaving the pots.
The Saturday's afternoon dazzled today, Elsa noticed. It warmed up the balcony floor feverishly under her bare feet to the point Elsa considered wearing flip-flops. Placing the pots in the same position she had picked them up from, Elsa briefly let's herself thank the beaming daylight for being the perfect welcome weather for her plants and her gardening endeavors.
Her interest in gardening was a recent one, and not one she was very confident in. Her concerns of leaving them too dry and letting them waste away due to being too busy or an improper caretaker worried her. She knew she was already parenting a cat, hopefully properly, and while some would consider that more intensive than gardening — Elsa still felt that failure would just be around the corner for her.
Even now, as pleasant a mood she is in, Elsa is dispiritingly aware of the discrete, ever-present corner of her brian which is still looking out for the worst-possible scenario.
What if the sun is too bright out actually, and not good for the plants; or what if the pots just sit there in a line like that forever, no buds or growth ever appearing and remaining empty save for the soil they were dumped with until Elsa can't ignore that she has clearly failed.
If this naysaying part of Elsa ever met its match, it is in Anna.
Anna, Elsa felt sometimes, carried Elsa's confidence for her when she couldn't herself.
When circular thoughts and negative remarks filled Elsa to the point she didn't have any space left for anything else at all.
Case in point: Anna and Kristoff's housewarming gift.
On the day Elsa had moved in, and all the hard part of grunting and yelling 'pivot' until it went from back-breakingly hilarious to the most unfunny and meaningless word in the world was over, the two of them had handed over to Elsa a shiny little colourful box.
Unwrapping it had revealed a hanging pot, and immediately Elsa understood what it was. Or more importantly, what it meant.
It represented Anna's faith in Elsa, in her gardening skills, her ability to surely get it right one day, her belief that Elsa will be able to accomplish whatever she put her mind to and deserved whatever she wanted.
The gift was so lovely Elsa never looked at it again. She couldn't bring herself to.
It's not that Elsa didn't trust Anna's judgment — if anything she believed in it more than she did in herself, some days — but she still couldn't get rid of the uncertainty inside of her own head.
So instead of using Anna's gift and fearing ruining it, Elsa decided to start small. Elsa binge-bought those succulents and cacti — supposed to be an easier success than the full blown thing — to gain some experience and confidence before she set her sights on the bigger picture that was waiting tucked behind the corner of one of Elsa's closets.
Honestly, it was only meant to be a stupid hobby, Elsa thinks, placing Squalor after Sphere, before Anna had to go and —
"Nice weather we're having, aren't we neighbour-ino?" A voice called, lilted in amusement.
Elsa picks her head up, looking back in the direction of the voice. She knows perfectly well what she's going to see and yet somehow still the excitement catapults her stomach into her chest.
Maren is watching Elsa, a slanting smile stretched across her cheeks. Quickly and without meaning to, Elsa checks on her appearance in her head.
My hair is covered in dirt — check; my face is covered in dirt — check; heck, my clothes, hands, legs and feet are all covered in dirt — check, check, check and bloody check.
"So what are you doing out here? Care to share?" Maren asks, after Elsa fails to respond.
Maren Nattura has freckles on her face, is all Elsa's mind allows. How come I didn't notice that last time? It couldn't have been that dark.
"Or is it a super-secret project I don't have clearance for?" She asks again after Elsa stands facing Maren — filthy, wide-mouthed and unresponsive — and Elsa wonders how Maren hasn't already concluded Elsa must be trying out her new life as a Venus fly-trap.
"Oh! Umm…" Elsa's voice jumps in the air quite like her reaction, and she tries to gather an answer as fast as she can.
"I was just umm…. gardening around a bit. Nothing big, no. Just a, " Elsa pulls hair back from her eyes, and makes a joke to her own horror, "just a little code green going on here. All-access all around. Hehehe."
And once I'm done with that I'll go bury myself alive with my own equipment.
"Really? That's nice. Finally something to spruce up this floor. It's just down to the two of us, isn't it? Real cool, Elsa Arendelle."
Elsa thinks about just how mistaken Maren is as her heart all but freezes stop at being referred to as cool.
"Uhh...yeah, exactly. Thanks. Do you like gardening too?"
"Nope." Maren replies callously, taking her attention back from Elsa and to her own balcony.
And that would've been a wrap , Elsa thinks, to a perfectly friendly albeit a slightly bumpy conversation — except Elsa can't really leave well enough alone, can she?
"Umm.." Elsa wills words out of her mouth, the hand holding her garden shovel clenching, "Are you sure about that?"
It makes Maren turn to look at Elsa again, her lips in a pout and eyebrows scrunched, "Uh, yeah. I'm sure. Why do you ask?"
Instead of replying, Elsa points with her free hand towards the window box bracket on Maren's balcony. Maren's head follows her direction and instantaneously understands what Elsa is referring to.
"Oh, these!" Maren exclaims as if she forgot that the gorgeous, fuscia-coloured yellow-undertoned flowers growing out of the thick, overflowing greenery on her flower box even existed. "Right! Sorry, yeah, that clean slipped my mind." She lets out a soft, embarrassed chuckle. "This is my Grandma's doing, actually. All I do is water them now and again like she instructs me to, and she does video call me often so I do try to take care of them or I'll never hear the end of it. But that's it, really. I don't have a passion for them or anything of the sort, it's just a daily errand if anything."
"Still, " Elsa comments, now properly taking in the remarkably healthy vividness of the colours, the full and round shape the petals coiled themselves in, the feeble but simply sweet scent that Elsa could grasp in the absence of any wind. "You've taken good care of them. They're striking."
"Thanks." Maren's voice rang with such appreciation, Elsa turned her head to find herself looking straight into Maren's eyes, like pins of gold studded right into Elsa's face. She catches sunshine highlighting the colour in one eye and shade darken the other, and cannot decide which one captivated her more.
"What are they?"
"Not sure, sorry. I'm gonna have to ask my grandma probably."
"No worries, let me know if you do."
"Sure will." Suddenly, it seemed as if Maren recalled something before saying, "But only if you tell me one thing."
"Okay?" Curiosity colored the edges of Elsa's question, and playfulness shaped her smile.
"Did you paint all your pots yourself?"
"Oh," She gives a quick glance back at her pots, then back at Maren, "I did. In fact, not only did I paint them, I named the plants too."
"You did?" A laugh accompanied a raised eyebrow, and Elsa accepted it to mean that Maren was impressed.
If it was a matter of just a few hours ago, Elsa would have denied resolutely that she would ever want to share such information with anyone not her immediate family.
If it was a matter of just a few minutes ago, Elsa would have fainted from embarrassment at the thought of telling Maren about it.
But that's the thing: it isn't a matter of a few hours ago, or that of a few minutes ago; it is a matter of right this very second. And right in this very second, Elsa wants to tell Maren just about anything and everything.
"Shall I introduce you?"
"Please."
"Ansel, Crystal, Flake, Flurry, Fridge, Pat, Powder, Slide, Sludge, Slush, Sphere, and Squalor—" Elsa turns to gesture towards Maren. "— this is Maren."
Maren chuckles, and gives the neatly arranged pots a mock wave. It allows Elsa to spot the haphazard strings of wire clasped by it.
"So, what are you up to?" Elsa asks, directing with her eyes her gaze towards the wires.
"Oh yeah. Actually I'm doing some sprucing up of my own. I fished out some old fairy lights today and I was just about to put them on."
"That's a lovely idea,"
"Think so? Well, it'll be lovelier once it gets dark. Keep an eye out for it, 'kay? And I'll keep mine out for these little ones of yours, deal?"
"Deal." Elsa agreed. "Maybe your lights could keep my plants company too, you know? Especially when they get scared of the dark?"
Maren looks at Elsa, reminding Elsa how she'd completely forgotten about the grimy state of her being. For some reason it doesn't seem to bother Elsa anymore, as if she knows Maren isn't looking at her in any light Elsa doesn't want her to.
"Deal."