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In all honesty, Elsa had no idea how things had developed to this point. She looked around at the room, helplessly, and saw Anna and Olaf huddling in a corner, avoiding the food. They were deep in conversation, though not so deep that they couldn’t duck as needed.
Oh, no. A cold wind blew through the room as all of a sudden, she suspected she knew exactly what--who--was likely to have set everything off.
Her suspicion was spot on.
*****
The stacks of fabric were higher than her head, and had formed a cozy little fort in the corner of what Anna had deemed The Wedding Room. It was a large, airy, bright room, though not so much in this corner.
Anna had been wandering back and forth for the last half hour, running her hands over dozens of fabrics, imagining them sewn up, trying to pick out The One for her wedding dress. All the silvers and golds and ivories were blurring together. She could use her mama’s headdress, but the dress was to be done from scratch and she had not eaten nearly enough chocolate to pick just one of the many, many beautiful things in front of her. The Royal Seamstress had gently vetoed a patchwork dress, and she really had to pick soon. Maybe she should close her eyes and spin and pick whatever she landed on. That had possibilities.
Her stomach growled and she knew that it was time for a snack. Perhaps with some chocolate.
“It’s just a shame, that’s all it is. It makes me sad to come in here some days.” Anna stood, ready to ask Gydda for a tray to be sent up, but sat back down with a thump at her words.
“I know it,” Solveig agreed. “I’m happy for the princess, of course, but what of our queen? A younger princess marrying before the first has never been done in my grandmother’s memory, she says. And the eldest is queen!”
They bustled around the room, dusting and checking the fires, continuing to gossip about Anna’s selfishness in the face of Elsa’s certain heartbreak and humiliation.
Anna had never considered that before. Elsa had never seemed disappointed by Anna’s plans, especially since she and Kristoff had spent plenty of years courting and not leaping into marriage. But she never had escorts to official balls or anything. Was it because Anna had broken her heart by not following royal protocol?
The maids were gone and all thoughts of chocolate had fled.
And then came crawling back.
She dashed down to the kitchen and put together her own tray of snacks to share with Elsa. And good thing, too, because there was a light flurry in the hallway outside of the royal chamber.
“Yoo-hoo, chocolate break!” Anna announced, shaking the light snowflakes out of her hair.
“Good timing,” Elsa said, setting her pen down with a bit more force than necessary. “The nerve of some foreign ministers! Thinking they can take advantage of me, just because I am a young queen.” The windows frosted over and she sighed. She closed her eyes and took a few deep breaths as Anna settled the tray, and the frost melted away.
“Have you chosen your fabric yet?” Elsa asked, forking up some chocolate cake.
“It’s just too hard,” Anna said, glumly biting into a cookie. “I want to use them all. They’re all wonderful.”
“Then just close your eyes and grab one,” Elsa said. “If they’ll all make you happy.”
“That’s my next plan,” Anna agreed. “Then almost a year of sewing and embroidering. I hope I still like it then.”
“It’ll be perfect,” Elsa reassured her.
They munched in contented silence until Anna finally burst with it. “Do you want to get married?”
Elsa cocked her head. “I don’t think that would be appropriate. And Kristoff may be disappointed.”
“Elsa,” Anna said, exasperated. “Are you interested in ever getting married to someone, someday? Someone who is not me?”
“That does make more sense,” Elsa said solemnly, and Anna stuck out her tongue. “But yes, someday, I suppose,” Elsa said, with a shrug. “I don’t have time to meet anyone not related to Arendelle right now. If something should happen, I trust you, and then you’ll have children. But nothing will happen to me,” Elsa said quickly, at Anna’s look of horror.
“You can’t say things like that,” Anna scolded. “But you’re not opposed to getting married, is what you’re saying?”
“No, I don’t think I am,” Elsa said. “I think it sounds nice to have a partner. You and Kristoff certainly seem happy together, and I know Mama and Papa were, too. But I think one wedding at a time is all the kingdom can really handle, don’t you?”
“Right, right,” Anna said, shoving the rest of her cookie in her mouth. Of course, hers was still a year away, and that left plenty of time for a second one not at all at the same time.
“I’ll let you get back to work,” she said, a little mumbly through the cookie. Clearly Elsa was sad and resigned, but she didn’t want to take away from Anna’s happiness. So Anna would make sure that Elsa got her partner and her happiness and even more true love. It was the least she could do.
*****
Elsa had never thought about getting married, while she was growing up. The plan she’d explained to Anna had been her plan since she was 13 years old and realized that her future might not look like the other royals in her line. Her parents had never said anything, but she’d seen enough exchanged looks to put things together.
So she’d put it out of her mind. And even with the opening up of Arendelle and the control over her powers, it hadn’t really occurred to her to change her plans. She was kept busy learning how to be a queen and ruler, and thrived on creating partnerships, treaties and trades that benefited her people. It didn’t leave much time for anyone but her existing family.
But perhaps she would make time for it, once Anna and Kristoff were settled. She may have said the kingdom could only handle one wedding at once, and it was true that their servants were already taxed with new tasks, but she really meant that Anna’s was all she could handle at one time. She had never dreamed a wedding meant doing so much, for so long.
Which is why she was surprised to find herself with an escort to a dinner welcoming a new dignitary. And then a different escort to a luncheon. And a ball. Sometimes her advisors would introduce them. Sometimes they just showed up. One memorable time, Olaf tried to introduce her to a duchess. The lady had managed to just barely keep her composure with the talking snowman, but backed away in horror when Elsa sneezed a Snowgie at her feet, and they never saw her again.
It was, Elsa learned, one thing for people outside the kingdom to know about her powers, and quite another thing entirely for them to see them in action.
It was understandable, but discouraging. And it definitely didn’t bode well for when she was ready to take an escort and turn it into a courtship. She found herself hiding herself away in her chamber and missing the small events she had grown to love so much.
And then she showed up.
*****
It had been a long, exhausting night. It was meant to be a celebration, Anna’s 22nd birthday. Her escort, a princess from a kingdom to the east, had been cloyingly sweet and clingy. That was difficult enough to handle, but when she’d returned from making the pre-dinner speech, she came back to the woman complaining at length to her sisters how much she hated snow, how unnatural magic was, how Elsa was cold as the winters she produced, the absurdity of inviting trolls to an important gathering, and so on. Elsa had trembled with unease and indecision, and heard far more than she ought to have stood for. But she was unwilling to make a scene on Anna’s night, and rejoined her escort reluctantly. The princess’s turn of face had been even harder to bear, but Elsa swallowed down her feelings on the matter and continued through the event.
After the festivities had concluded at midnight, Elsa escaped to the main barn. She’d spent many nights there as a child, after the castle was asleep. The horses weren’t afraid of her. She’d been the one afraid that first night, but the horses had nudged her hands looking for treats and not come away frozen or even chilled. By the end of the night, her fears had fled and the animals had become her friends. These days, she could visit in daylight, but she still occasionally seeked out nighttime comfort there.
She was with her favorite, Nina, feeding her apples while brushing out her shining mane, when she heard a disturbance at the entrance.
“Who comes here?” she called out in her most commanding voice, and the scuffling came to a halt.
“The DunBroch clan of Scotland,” a woman’s voice came carrying back. “Our horses need attending, they do, so come smart now.”
Elsa exited the stall, wiping her hands on her skirt. “I see. Welcome to Arendelle,” she said, nodding to the group. There were two women, one with fiery red hair flying in all directions, and three identical boys. Elsa wracked her brain and came up with Queen Elinor and Princess Merida, and a trio of matching names for the matching boys. “I am Queen Elsa.”
“Aye, right,” the princess scoffed. “Who do ye take us for? Yer heid’s full o’ the mince, it is. We are royalty, not common bumpkin! Will you care for our horses or no?”
Elsa blinked, the accent strong in her ears. “I assure you, I have no mince nor do I think you common bumpkins, Princess Merida. I can certainly assist with the horses, if you’d prefer we not call the grooms.”
Merida looked at her suspiciously while Elinor gave a small sigh. “You know me name?” Merida asked.
“Of course I do,” Elsa said. “Your father, King Fergus, and I have been corresponding for nearly a year in advance of your visit and the Handel League. I am sorry he could not join us, but I understand that you and Queen Elinor are just as well versed in the plans as he.”
“It’s a pleasure, Queen Elsa,” Elinor interjected, giving a curtsy and an elbow to the nearest boy child. They all bowed dramatically.
“Same to you,” Elsa said, curtsying in return.
“I’ve made a right muddle of it,” Merida said, giving a curtsy as well. “Sorry, yer majesty.”
“I’m sure you are all tired after your long journey,” Elsa said, giving a nod. “I am sorry you weren’t here for Princess Anna’s birthday celebration, but am pleased you’ve arrived safely.” She gave a small smile. “Let’s get those horses attended to, and then I’ll show you to your rooms.”
“Oh, no,” Merida blurted out, as Elsa stepped forward. “I mean, yer majesty, we can handle the horses. If there was someone awake, we’d use the help, is all.”
“And as it turns out, there is someone awake,” Elsa replied. “As you can see, I know my way around the animals, and it’s no problem.”
She pushed past the royal family and led the first horse in. A bit abashed, the princess and princes followed her lead and set the horses abed for the night. Elsa left a note for the groomsmen and led the family to the castle, where she consulted the housekeeper’s notes. Ernaline had placed them in their finest guest rooms, only a floor from her own.
The boys scampered into one room (she really must learn their names), the Queen entered the largest, and last was Princess Merida.
“For you, your highness,” she said, swinging open the door to the blue room. “Is there anything you’ll require for tonight?”
Merida shook her head, her curls swinging wildly. “Nae. But I do want to apologize for my behavior earlier. And not just because Mum is going to have a lot to say about it in the morning.”
“Oh, no,” Elsa said quickly. “I was--am--not dressed as a queen, nor was I in a particularly royal setting. It was a perfectly understandable mistake, Princess.”
“Just Merida, if you please,” Merida said. “And thank you for being far more obliging than I would have been in the same situation.” She grinned impishly. “I’d best get myself off for a kip before I dissolve the League before it begins. Night, your majesty.”
“Good night,” Elsa said, as the door swung shut in her face. She had a sudden flash of sympathy for Anna and her aversion to closed doors.
She found herself humming an old Scots lullaby her nanny had taught her a young child as she made her way to her own rooms. She found she quite liked the fiery redhead, who’d been a breath of fresh air after the duplicity of the princess earlier in the evening. The DunBroch clan would be good allies to have, if they were all as open and honest as their princess.
*****
The rest of the prospective League membership arrived over the next few days, keeping Elsa busy with meetings and heads of state luncheons. Queen Elinor attended these and Elsa found her to be intelligent and well spoken. She also found herself curiously eager to see the princess again instead, imagining how they could learn to know each other better. The more she thought of her, the more she looked forward to it. Unfortunately, it was Anna who had the pleasure of giving the DunBroch clan tours of the grounds and the town. Kristoff and Sven had taken to the triplets immediately, and they spent the rest of their days on ice.
It was almost a full week later when Elsa finally had time to escape to the barns for a break. She nodded to Nelmar, a groom leading a yearling out to the pasture. She headed straight for Nina’s stall, but was waylaid by one across the center path. She could hear the melodic murmuring of a Scots accent and crossed over, a new bounce in her step.
“Good afternoon, Merida,” she said.
Merida jumped, startled, and bumped into her horse’s foreleg. He blew a frustrated breath and knocked her with his head. She caught herself and glared at the animal.
“Sorry to disturb you,” Elsa said, amused by their antics.
“Nothing to disturb, your majesty,” Merida said, and Elsa noted that she no long had any problem understanding the strong burr. “Just catching Angus here up on what’s new.”
“I see,” Elsa said, and pulled out a few sugar cubes. She held them out to the horse. “Do you like sweets, Angus?”
The horse took an interested step forward and nosed into her palm before lapping up the treat. Elsa rubbed his muzzle and the horse snuggled close before giving Merida a smug look.
“Oh, go on with you,” Merida said, making a face, and Elsa laughed.
“Have you and Angus had a chance to explore yet?” Elsa asked. “He doesn’t look like the type to be happy in the stables all day.”
“He’s not,” Merida said, and the horse whinnied in agreement. “He’s spent some time out and about, but we haven’t explored. Mum said--” she cut herself off.
“I was going to take Nina for a ride,” Elsa said impulsively, though she’d only stopped by for a quick hello and pick-me-up. “Would you and Angus like to join us?”
“I’d say we would,” Merida said enthusiastically, while Angus pranced excitedly.
They moved to quickly tack the horses, mounting near the path to the river.
“I’m not going to lie,” Merida said. “Angus and I, we like to go fast. Will that be a problem for you, your majesty?”
“You may call me Elsa,” she replied, feeling a little devilish. “If you can keep up with me, at any rate.” She clicked her tongue and gave a whoop as Nina set off at a gallop.
Elsa could just barely hear Merida sputter as they took off, but it was only a moment before Merida was racing alongside her, her wild hair floating in the wind. She had a look of delight on her face, one that Elsa was confident was mirrored on her own.
They rode hard and fast for a few miles before Elsa began reining Nina in. Merida followed suit and they trotted towards a grove of trees.
“The river runs just past the grove,” Elsa said, a little breathlessly. “The horses can water themselves there.”
They dismounted and walked until the quiet rushing of the stream became clearer. Elsa dropped the reins and let Nina beeline for the cool water, with Angus following.
“I wish we could water ourselves out there,” Merida said, fanning herself. “I didn’t ken it got so darned warm in Arendelle.”
Elsa was so relaxed that she did exactly what she would have for Anna or Kristoff--she snapped her fingers and gave them a little snow flurry that cooled the area down immediately.
Nina continued drinking, unconcerned, but Angus shook his head in confusion and Elsa froze for a reason that had nothing to do with the weather.
“I’m, oh, I beg your pardon,” she said quickly, abruptly ending the snowfall.
“So it is true, you’re magic,” Merida said, her eyes wide. But, Elsa noted, she didn’t look disgusted or fearful. “Don’t panic now, of course I’d heard of what you could do, I was just surprised.” She pushed her hair off her face. “Could you please turn it back on? It felt so good after that ride.”
“I try not to just spring it on people,” Elsa said, giving her fingers a wave and letting the snow resume. “People can react badly if they think it’s unnatural. It really doesn’t bother you?”
“Not likely. I turned my mum into a bear, after all,” Merida said placidly, lifting her face and sticking out her tongue to catch snowflakes.
“I’m sorry?” Elsa asked, cocking her head.
“My mum. Became a bear,” Merida said. “So did my brothers. Around, oh, four years ago now.”
“You don’t have to make a joke of this,” Elsa said, a little hurt. “Many people have not been kind upon seeing my powers for themselves, no matter how open minded they had thought themselves.”
“No, no,” Merida said quickly, lightly touching Elsa’s arm. “Your--Elsa, I swear on the great lands of DunBroch, I accidentally turned my family into bears.”
Merida’s fingers were warm on Elsa’s skin. “I--that story didn’t make its way across the sea,” she said, finally.
Merida laughed. “And a right good thing, too. If anyone had to choose between Olaf and bears, I can’t imagine any would go bear. But I suspect you would have heard had the League been in discussion then.”
“Do you still have this ability?” Elsa asked. She’d never met someone magical like herself, and a little thrill ran through her.
“Ach, no,” Merida said. “I never did. I bought a spell from a witch and made a muddle of it, as I do. Is your magic witch or fairy?”
“I don’t know,” Elsa admitted, ending the snow as Merida shivered. She settled against a tree, drawing her skirts up to enjoy the shade while the sun warmed her legs. “I was born on midwinter, the longest day of the year, in the midst of the worst December anyone can remember. It was a month of endless snow and blizzards. Somehow it became a part of me.”
Merida plopped herself down on the grass next to Elsa and stretched out. “It must come in handy,” she said.
“Sometimes,” Elsa said. “Now that I understand it, it’s not as scary.” She sketched a snowflake and it glittered in the air. She blew lightly, and it poofed over Merida’s face into a tiny snowball that landed on her nose.
Merida started laughing. “Don’t show that to my wee rascally brothers, or else you’ll be making snowballs for our entire visit,” she warned, wiping her face.
“I appreciate the warning,” Elsa said, smiling. She drew more snowflakes into the air over Merida, who reached up, trying to catch them.
She felt very comfortable as they rested in the warmth, the horses nickering and whinnying in conversation behind them. “Why did you turn your mother into a bear?” Elsa asked, curiously.
“I was sixteen,” Merida said, as if that was an explanation enough. She continued at Elsa’s raised eyebrow.
“We had different ideas on my future,” she said. “I wanted to choose my own destiny. She set up a competition for the victor to take my hand in marriage. I shot for my own hand,” she said proudly. “Won, o’ course. I wasn’t about to marry anyone, and I thought that was the best way to make sure I never had to. So I bought a spell to change her mind, only I, er, changed her body instead. We figured it out. And I haven’t had to marry anyone since!”
“Oh, I see,” Elsa said, letting the snowflakes fade.
And she did, all too clearly. She’d let herself feel comfortable and content with a new person for the first time in her life and let her thoughts drift towards….well. And of course it was with a woman so determined not to marry that she’d turned her mother into a bear.
Well, it wasn’t the end of the world, though she’d never admit to anyone how those words had crushed some little hopes sprouting inside her. She’d lost nothing but hopefully had gained a good new friend and ally. That was important for her, the kingdom, and the league.
“We should be leaving now,” she said, jumping up. “I still have more meetings this afternoon.”
“The busy life of a queen,” Merida sighed, making her way to Angus. “Can you give a cool wind to carry us back?”
Elsa obliged as they raced back the way they came. She was distracted through the next hour of meetings and briefings, before she finally got a hold of herself and put herself back in command.
She still found her thoughts drifting towards the Scots princess through the next few days, even though there was no reason for the two to talk. Merida had her own meetings, plus looking after her brothers. Elsa had seen her with Olaf, Anna and Kristoff at some meals, but she’d busied herself with other guests.
On the third night, she stayed in her chamber all evening, reading the various drafts of the League to see how far they’d progressed in compromise. Before she knew it, it was past midnight and her stomach was rumbling. She’d stress eaten all her extra chocolate the night before in an effort to not freeze out her meeting partners, and besides, she needed actual sustenance.
She made her way through the dark and quiet castle towards the kitchens. She could go for lutefisk, she decided. Or maybe some good pickled herring. The cook always had extra and didn’t mind her dipping in on late nights.
She was thoroughly engrossed in her meal plan and didn’t notice that Merida was raiding the pantry until they collided. Elsa let out a yelp and had a sword of ice in her hand before she realized fully what was happening.
Merida froze, before lifting a loaf of bread. “Late night snack?”
“I’m sorry,” Elsa said, hastily clearing the sword. “I didn’t realize anyone else was still awake, you startled me, are you all right?”
“Just hungry,” Merida said, waving the bread. “Your cook is marvelous, did you know she knew how to make haggis? Proper haggis.”
“I did not,” Elsa said, taking a few steps back. “I’m not even sure I know what that is.”
“It’s probably best that way,” Merida said. “I was about to make myself haggis on toast, will you join me?”
“I was thinking of pickled herring,” Elsa said, not reassured as to the idea of haggis. “But I’d still enjoy the company.”
They warmed their dinners in companionable silence, moving around the kitchen easily. Merida toasted the bread while Elsa pulled some chairs from the fire over to the countertops and pour water into small cups.
“To your health,” Elsa said, raising her glass and sipping.
“And to yours,” Merida said before taking a huge bite of her haggis. She smiled as well as she could while chewing.
Elsa ate her fish with relish but far less visible enthusiasm.
“We missed you at dinner tonight,” Merida said, swallowing. “I was at the barn visiting Angus after, but I didn’t see you.”
“I haven’t been able to get there,” Elsa said regretfully. “We’re coming so close to finalizing the League agreement, it’s occupying all of my time. Nina will need plenty of sugar to forgive me.”
“She and Angus seemed to be enjoying themselves, grazing around the pastures together,” Merida reassured her. “She’ll be fine.”
“Well, thank you for that,” Elsa said, letting Merida’s smile wash over her. It might be hopeless, but she could still enjoy Merida’s charms, and she was grateful for that.
“May I try a bit of that?” Merida asked, gesturing towards her herring. “I’ll share mine.”
“Haven’t you had it?” Elsa said, surprised. “We’ve served it during your visit.”
“It smelled funny,” Merida said, wrinkling her nose. “I like my fish smoked. But you seem to like it.”
“It’s wonderful,” Elsa said. She lifted a forkful towards Merida’s plate, but to her astonishment, Merida ate it right off the fork in midair.
“Mmmm,” Merida said, wrinkling her nose and considering. “Not bad. Little salty. Very fishy.” She scooped up a bite of haggis and held it out to Elsa. “Ready for some of the best food ever created?”
Elsa moved to take it from Merida to eat but felt a little spark of daring. Instead, she leaned over and swallowed it, just as Merida had taken her offering. She frowned. “Chewy. Spicy.” She chewed it over in her head as she chewed. “Not bad.”
“Truly fine cooking,” Merida said, sneaking another bite of fish. “Your castle is lucky to have her.”
“You’ll have no arguments from me there,” Elsa said. She was still feeling a little giddy and playful from being so near Merida, and she snuck her own little extra bite of haggis. “It’s good,” she decided.
“You, my fair friend and queen, are now honorary Scots,” Merida said, bowing her head and grandly sweeping her arms. “Welcome to the clan.”
Elsa beamed at her.
They continued chatting long after their midnight snacks were finished, about everything from archery to embroidery, and royal duties and the Handel League proposals. Before Elsa knew it, the sun was brightening the sky and the room, and they could hear the movements of the kitchen maids.
“Oh, I’ve kept you up all night,” Elsa exclaimed, grabbing their plates. “Will you have time to sleep before your morning plans?”
“Do you?” Merida asked, pushing the chairs back to the fire. “Your meetings are more important than mine.”
“I’ll be fine,” Elsa said, brushing off her concern.
“Then I’ll see you later today,” Merida said cheerfully, squeezing her arm as she passed to the door.
It was the most mundane end to their lengthy conversation, and yet Elsa floated through her exhaustion for the rest of the day.
After that, they saw each other and spoke for at least a few minutes every day. Merida began attending some of the heads of state meetings with her mother, and Elsa was impressed with her comments and contributions.
The delegation had Sunday off, much to everyone’s relief. Elsa slept late and enjoyed the quiet while she got ready for her day. She realized as she fixed her hair that the dress was the same bright blue as Merida’s eyes and laughed at herself.
She was still smiling when she ran into Anna on the stairs.
“Oh, good, you’re here!” Anna said, clapping her hands. “What are you doing today? Have you considered--”
She was cut off by Merida’s appearance behind her. “Just the pair I was looking for,” she said. “I’m sick of being cooped up, and thought we could take a ride and go for a picnic.” She glanced between the sisters.
“I think Anna and I--,” Elsa began, but Anna spoke over her.
“Noooooo, no, no Anna and I,” Anna said, quickly. “Kristoff and I are taking the boys out so you two should go and have fun and take the whole day because when do we get days off, am I right? I am so right.”
“Are you sure?” Elsa asked doubtfully. “We could all go together and make a day of it.”
“Nope, totally sure, not at all interested,” Anna said. “I mean, I’d love to spend time with you. I like spending time with you, you’re very fun to spend time with, but not today. I’ve got other plans, bub.”
“Well, all right then,” Elsa said. Anna must have really bonded with the triplets to be so excited about spending time with them. They did seem to match her energy level. “I’d love to join you, Merida.”
They arranged to meet at the stables an hour later and Elsa set off with a bounce in her step.
And the day was, in Elsa’s mind, perfect. They rode all over the castle grounds, Elsa showing Merida her favorite haunts. Merida showed Elsa how to shoot arrows, and Elsa created ice arrows that delighted Merida. Everything wintery that Elsa created was met with enthusiasm, even a rogue Snowgie after smelling a patch of beautiful flowers. The picnic contained their favorite foods from both Scotland and Arendelle, with a slew of chocolate desserts. Conversations flowed easily, especially as they learned about each other’s families, but they enjoyed companionable silence, as well.
They rode back home in the twilight and took care in putting the horses in for the night. Angus laid his head against Elsa’s in a brief hug as they left, and Merida gave her a hug goodnight, as well.
Perfect.
The day rejuvenated Elsa’s tired spirits, and it apparently had the same effect on everyone else, as well. Elsa could barely believe it, but the next day, it finally happened: the Handel League was officially signed into action, all parties reasonably content with the final result. Two years of groundwork and proposals followed by weeks of near daily work, and Elsa’s biggest accomplishment to date was complete. She set a celebratory dinner and ball for the following night.
She expected it to be one of the happiest nights of her life. Instead, she felt the lowest she had since the nightmare of her coronation and eternal winter. And then came the food.
*****
The day had started out well. She and Anna had had a leisurely breakfast together, discussing their wardrobes for the evening. Anna had decided on a corn colored silk, while Elsa chose her rich rose gown at Anna’s advice.
Then she’d had a few quick, celebratory meetings and some time to catch up on her day to day work. After that, she still had an hour before she needed to get ready, so she went to check on Nina and the other horses, where she found Merida in whispered conversation with Angus.
“Oh! Elsa!” Merida scrambled up and Elsa thought she hadn’t looked so discombobulated since the night they’d met.
“Hello,” Elsa replied, rubbing Angus’s nose fondly. “Looking forward to tonight?”
“It’ll be a good time after all these meetings,” Merida said. “I don’t know how you all do it, inside all day. I’m better about diplomacy these days, but walls, ugh.”
“Sometimes it’s interminable, but sometimes it's fun to create new things and make things better,” Elsa said. “The celebrations are also a plus.”
“I suppose so,” Merida said. “But we’re outside for now, at least. Let’s take a ride.” Angus whinnied and stepped on her foot. “Or walk. Let’s walk.”
“All right,” Elsa said, pleased.
They started out on a stroll, Merida looking a little fidgety. They passed a mile or so mostly in silence, Elsa feeling more and more on edge with Merida’s slightly off behavior. The quiet didn’t feel as comfortable as it usually did.
They reached a small copse near a stream, and Merida led them over. She swam her hands through the water and flicked droplets at her face. “Whoo! It’s a scorcher today, it is.”
It wasn’t, but Elsa nodded politely. “Is something the matter?” she asked.
“Matter? No, no matter,” Merida said. “Well, that is to say, nothing is wrong.”
“All right,” Elsa said, a little doubtfully. Perhaps a princess who didn’t want to be married also didn’t like balls.
“But now that you mention it, there is a matter I’d like to talk about, if I may,” Merida said, looking a little pink in the face.
“All right,” Elsa said, composing herself.
“This has been a wonderful trip,” Merida began. “No, don’t interrupt. The boys enjoy being brought into the family ice business, my mum loves a chance to work with what she calls “civilized” leaders, and I’ve fallen in love with Arendelle, surprise snowfalls and all. No, really, hush your mouth now. Not yet.” Merida took a deep breath.
“Because, Queen Elsa, I am requesting your permission to bring a suit for your hand in marriage. I’m willing to shoot for the right, if you’re wishing it.” She nodded firmly. “Okay. Now you can talk.”
But Elsa had no words. Part of her heart was singing, but the rest was a confusing and maddening swirl. All her years of self-loathing and fear came spiralling back and she panicked.
She couldn’t court. She couldn’t marry. Why had she ever thought otherwise? She was different, defective, broken, wrong.
She hurt people. They weren’t safe close to her. She’d already nearly stabbed Merida with an ice sword, what would happen if they ever fought?
What if she had a child and she passed this madness down?
She didn’t deserve a relationship like this.
Merida deserved better than this.
There was only one answer.
She schooled her face and stood rigidly, holding herself tightly so she didn’t shake. “You do not have permission,” she said coldly, the words feeling like ice in her own heart. “Good day.”
She ignored Merida’s calls after her, walking as fast as she could and then sprinting back towards the castle as soon as she thought she was out of view. She fought back tears as she tore past the stables, through the castle and into her rooms.
But she only had a few moments to herself before a lady’s maid appeared to assist her with the evening’s preparations. She moved through the motions, lost in a haze of sadness and confusion and hurt.
She’d dreamed and daydreamed about Merida giving just that request more than once, and imaginary her had responded with joy and happiness. But once it happened, all she’d felt was ice, like she’d been drenched in it, and she knew that real life was nothing like an imaginary one. Anything was possible in her dreams; reality had far more limitations.
She stood with Anna at the receiving line and cordially greeted her guests before dinner. She didn’t speak with Anna more than necessary, and ignored her concerned looks. The DunBroch clan didn’t arrive before dinner was called.
Elsa had let staff know she would have no escort that evening, and so led the way to the dining hall with no one on her arm, Anna and Kristoff close behind.
The DunBroch clan came with the stragglers at the end of the procession and settled themselves as far from Elsa as they could find. Olaf toddled over to get Elsa’s attention, but she sent him away brusquely. She couldn’t deal with his kindness right then.
She tried to ignore Merida, as Merida was ignoring her. She was often turned away from Elsa’s seat, and Elsa only caught glimpses of her face, which was nearly as red as her hair. Her mother was looking by turns tolerant and frustrated, as the boys bounced their attention between the two with identically curious expressions.
They made it to the entree before it happened.
One of Merida’s brothers (Elsa had been trying to tell them apart and she was 90% certain it was Hamish) jumped to his feet and gave a great indignant roar. “YOU THREW MY SISTER OVER!” His mother tried to yank him out of the room but the other two threw themselves in the way while Hamish picked up his potato dumplings and flung them.
They didn’t make it as far as Elsa, hitting a dignitary from a notoriously volatile kingdom to the north instead, so Harris picked up a handful of lutefisk and tried that. This, too, landed on the dignitary who rose, sputtering, and launched an attack of his own, with bowl full of cloudberries.
“For my sister’s honor!” Hubert howled, flinging haggis wildly and that was it. Heads of state who should be mature and dignified people really unbent and let their tension out via food.
Elsa watched in numb, fascinated horror as chaos descended, barely noticing the lutefisk that trailed down her braid. She couldn’t imagine that Merida had felt strongly enough about the afternoon’s events to inspire any of this. How had this happened, and so quickly?
A potato dumpling hit her shoulder and shook her out of her reverie. Looking around, she saw Anna and Olaf huddled in a corner, Anna frantically waving her hands as they talked and ducked to avoid food.
Merida had strong opinions against marriage, but she had proposed courtship to Elsa. Why would she do that? She had a sudden flash of her conversation with Anna before all the escorts started appearing. Anna wouldn’t have….but of course she would. Anna and her obsession with true love would absolutely do everything in her power to try and make Elsa happy, at whatever cost to other people.
There would be no more of that.
She stood up tall and sent a brisk wind through the room, until the food fight had subsided. One last carrot flew through the air and Kristoff snatched it as everyone watched. “Sorry,” he said, sheepishly, stepping back towards Anna and Olaf. “For Sven.”
“I think this portion of the evening’s entertainment has concluded,” Elsa announced, as stately as she could while dripping lutefisk. “Let us all return to our rooms to clean up, and we will commence with the ball in an hour’s time.” She clapped her hands and her stunned staff moved in and began righting tables and overturned bowls and plates.
Her guests filed out slowly, and Elsa closed her eyes. She would owe every person working the castle that evening so much hazard pay. Double, at least. A server slipped on a pile of sauce and she winced even as he caught his balance. Triple.
She saw Anna trying to blend in with the crowd streaming out the door. “Oh, no you don’t,” Elsa said, lunging for her. “You’re staying with me.”
She waited until the room was empty except for her and Anna, shooing Olaf out, too. She knew he must have been every bit as involved, but it would have been Anna’s plan and doing that caused the most damage.
“Well, that was certainly our most exciting dinner,” Anna said, offering a weak smile.
“Was this your doing?” Elsa demanded.
“I think it was Hamish’s, actually,” Anna said. She wilted under Elsa’s stare. “Olaf said that you refused Merida’s suit. I don’t understand it. You are perfect together.”
“I didn’t ask you to find me a suitor,” Elsa said, frustrated. “In fact, I told you I wanted to wait. Merida didn’t ask to be put in this position. She doesn’t want to get married. I don’t know what you did to wear her down like that, but it wasn’t fair to her or to me.”
Anna drew her breath in sharply at Elsa’s tone. “I didn’t wear her down,” she protested. “She never said she was against marriage. All she did was talk about you and how smart and kind and fun you were. Every time I tried to suggest that you go off with her, she had already asked you! I just told her that you were interested.”
“But I--that wasn’t your place!” Elsa snapped back, a light flurry developing over them.
“But I love you and I want you to be happy,” Anna wailed. “She makes you happy, I know she does. And you make her happy! The triplets think you’re magic.”
Elsa pressed her fingers to her pounding forehead. “I am magic,” she said forcefully. “I am ice. I hurt people, Anna. I hurt you. I won’t hurt anyone else like that, I can’t risk it. You chose your partner in Kristoff. I am choosing to have no partner. There will be no more escorts, is that understood?”
“You’re not--,” Anna began but Elsa cut her off.
“Is that understood?” she repeated.
Anna’s shoulders slumped. “Yes.”
“Good,” Elsa said. “And now I must apologize to the DunBroch clan for upsetting them and hope that this does not harm the League!”
She spun on her heel and marched out, with Anna shouting after her, “You’re not ice! You’re so much more than that!” She tried not to let the words penetrate and just grit her teeth to get this chore over with.
Still sporting food, she made her way to the rooms held by the DunBrochs. The door to the triplets room was open as Queen Elinor scolded them in a Scots accent so thick that Elsa could barely understand what she was saying. She noticed Elsa passing and told the boys to freeze.
“Queen Elsa, I cannot apologize enough for the behavior of the princes,” she said, clasping Elsa’s hand. “Please know that I do not condone such behavior, and I hope this will not affect our clan’s standing in the League.”
“Of course not,” Elsa said, gently removing her hand. “I value your allyship tremendously. I was afraid that the events that precipitated it would affect your willingness to continue.”
“Never,” Queen Elinor vowed. “That was nothing but an unfortunate misunderstanding.” Elsa glanced at Merida’s door. “I believe my children owe you an apology.”
Elinor glared at the boys, who chorused, “I’m sorry,” in the most insincere tones Elsa had heard since her last meeting with the Duke of Weaselton.
Elinor sighed. “I must continue with these wee mongrels,” she said. “Will you see Merida?”
Elsa nodded, resolutely. “I must apologize to her,” she said, her voice catching slightly over the words.
Elinor squeezed her arm and smiled kindly at her. “Just talk with her,” she encouraged. “I think you will come to an understanding.” She turned to her sons and her eyes sharpened. “An understanding being something I…” she launched into rough Scots and Elsa left them to it.
She knocked gently on Merida’s door and waited for the gruff response.
She entered the room and found Merida in a rough linen shift, scrubbing berry stains off her skin.
“Oh!” Merida yelped, dropping the washing cloth. “I thought you would be Mum.”
“She’s still lecturing your brothers,” Elsa said, though Elinor’s voice was clear through the doorway.
Merida gave a small smile. “I expect that will last a while.”
There was an awkward pause. “I’m sorry for today’s misunderstanding,” Elsa said, gathering her courage. “I spoke with my sister about pushing people past their comfort zones, and she won’t continue, I promise.”
“Pushing people?” Merida asked. “I don’t know what she did.”
“Well, you,” Elsa said haltingly. “You, and the proposal, and pushing you towards a marriage you don’t want.”
“Your majesty, I offered you my suit,” Merida said, exasperated. “I most certainly did want a marriage.”
Elsa felt even more off kilter. “You turned your mother into a bear to avoid it,” she pointed out.
“No, I turned her into a bear to avoid being pushed into it,” Merida corrected her. “If Anna was doing the same, oh, I wouldn’t have turned her into a bear,” she said quickly, “But I would have had some strong words for her. I don’t want to be forced to get married. I don’t mind choosing to get married. And I thought you felt the same way. It felt that way, every time we met. I thought we were on the same page.”
“Oh,” Elsa said. She wondered if she would have had the same response this afternoon had she realized earlier that her feelings were reciprocated. That Merida was as enamored of her as she was of...the icy wave of panic returned and she shivered. She suspected that she would have missed out on all their wonderful times if she’d realized.
Merida looked at her concerned. “Are you alright, Elsa?” she asked.
“I suppose there were misunderstandings on all sides,” Elsa managed. She just couldn’t pull up her usual mask.
“Were there?” Merida asked. “I know we’ve just met a few weeks ago, but I thought you were enjoying your time with me. Was I so wrong?” She sounded hurt and that hurt Elsa.
“No, of course not,” Elsa said quickly, wanting Merida to feel better. “I very much enjoyed our time together. It was wonderful. You’re wonderful,” she said, trailing off.
“See, I thought the same about you!” Merida said. “I don’t understand what the problem is then. A courtship will give us time to see if we’re as well suited as we seemed to be. Don’t you want to see?”
Elsa did, badly. “I can’t,” she admitted. “I know you’ve heard about my coronation.”
“From multiple people,” Merida said.
“I spent ten years of my childhood in my rooms, alone with the cold,” Elsa said. “My parents tried so hard to help me, but I couldn’t be helped. All I could do was hurt. I won’t hurt you, Merida. I will not do that to you. And if I hurt Anna, who I love more than anyone else in the world, then everyone else is in danger. I need to keep you safe.”
“Elsa,” Merida said, stepping closer. “You should never have been alone with that for so long, but you're not alone anymore and you’re not a danger to any of us.”
“I still set off snow when I’m upset,” Elsa said, “and I nearly attacked you with an ice sword just from being startled. I could never forgive myself if something worse happened.”
“What if I hurt you?” Merida said. “It could happen. I could find another witch sometime when I’m angry about something. There aren’t any guarantees.” Elsa shook her head but Merida continued on. “I think it’s simple. You’re scared. Do you want to not be scared?”
“I’d give anything to not be scared,” Elsa said, surprising herself.
“If you didn’t have your powers, would you have accepted my suit?” Merida asked.
Elsa nodded, the idea hurting her heart.
Merida took another step forward. “This whole time I’ve been here, I’ve heard stories about the Queen. How fair she is. How generous she is. Your staff rave about you behind your back. I didn’t think that ever happened. I’ve heard about your coronation, how terrible it was for the young queen to be so badly taken advantage of for something she couldn’t control. How terrible it was that the queen was denied love, the one thing that would have solved every problem.”
She took another step until she was just able to reach Elsa. “You are so loved,” she said, shaking her head. “So well loved, and so filled with love. Won’t you give yourself a chance?”
Elsa struggled. She remembered Anna’s parting comment that she wasn’t made of ice, and realized that she hadn’t created any ice in her anger with her sister. And oh, she remembered the feeling of freedom back when she’d realized she had the power to fix her mistakes and live without fear. How had she let it come back?
“I’d like to,” she said slowly. “I’d like to give you a chance, too. But I am so worried, Merida. I care for you too deeply to not be worried.”
“I can work with that,” Merida said. She touched Elsa’s arm and when Elsa didn’t flinch, took her hand. “I would like to marry you. But you have your choice, too. Will you agree to a...a pre-suit? Where we talk this all out and get to know each other better, and see where we land? You’ve allowed Anna and Kristoff to stay close to you, and I’d like to work towards that honor, if I could.”
Elsa took a deep breath and said the most terrifying thing she could imagine. “You may. Your request for a pre-suit is accepted.”
Merida lit up. “Brilliant!” She flung her arms around Elsa in a bear hug and Elsa gave a laugh that was almost a cry.
“Sorry!” Merida said, leaping back again, lutefisk flying through the air.
“You didn’t scare me,” Elsa said, giving her a small smile. “May I ask for the honor of being your escort to the ball this evening?”
Merida’s answer was drowned out by the cheers of the triplets from the doorway, but her smile was clear enough.
Elsa found time to apologize to Anna at the ball later that evening, and promised the first of many conversations to work through her feelings with the one person who could understand.
Six months later, Elsa was proud to have Merida by her side as escort to Anna and Kristoff’s wedding celebration. They hadn’t yet promoted up to official courtship, but Merida was patient and Elsa knew it was a matter of time.
Elsa lifted their joined hands and pressed a kiss to Merida’s fingers. Merida smiled at her in return. A short matter of time.