Chapter Text
At grief so deep the tongue must wag in vain; the language of our sense and memory lacks the vocabulary of such pain –
Elsa put the book down when she heard the gates screech open, her heart squeezing uncomfortably in her chest. She’d been both dreading and anticipating this moment – though Anna visited her in Arendelle as often as she could, it had been over a year since she’d seen her sister.
It would take Anna between five and twenty minutes from gate to Elsa’s bedroom, depending on whether Agnarr would bother to greet her. Given that there were no guests, Elsa figured he wouldn’t, which gave her little time to psychologically prepare for the encounter. She’d been bracing herself for weeks, but her mind still flip-flopped between cold detachment and uncontrolled anguish.
Elsa took a deep breath and rubbed her hands together. The gloves that covered them robbed her of the tactile comfort of skin touching skin.
She was tired.
Anna knocked on the door with the same specific pattern she always used. Elsa found herself oddly grateful for the gesture – of all the people in her life, Anna had always been the one to accommodate her the most, picking up on details that even Elsa herself would overlook. Elsa found comfort in patterns and routine. Anna knew that, and so she knocked the same way every time.
She opened the door and smiled. Despite the overall situation, it was sincere.
“Sister!” Anna beamed as always, wrapping her arms around Elsa and nearly knocking her down.
She looked out of place, wearing Northruldan leathers in the heart of Arendelle’s aristocracy, but that, not unlike her weekly letters, represented a much-welcome break in Elsa’s routine. Elsa hugged her back, tentatively, lingering for a bit longer than it would have been polite because she knew Anna didn’t mind. “I’ve missed you,” she murmured, and the confession was not nearly enough to alleviate the pressure building up inside her chest.
“I’ve missed you, too.” Anna pulled back and grabbed her by the shoulders. Elsa could see the skin on Anna’s shoulders was peeling, likely from a sunburn, and it brought her to the disorienting realization that it was already summer. Anna bumped their foreheads together, then hugged her again. “Our schedules never match! I can’t tell which one of us has the rotten luck, but it’s becoming inconvenient.”
Luck has very little to do with it, Elsa thought, but chose not to voice it. She knew they were being kept apart. She knew there was little she could do about it. “I’m just glad I get to see you,” her hands sought her sister’s and gave them a squeeze. “Anna…” the words got stuck on her throat, and she swallowed them down.
Anna tilted her head, and Elsa’s hesitation must have shown on her face, because Anna squeezed her hands back. “Whatever it is, don’t worry and take your time.” She smiled again, hopping from one foot to the other. “And while you do, I got a thousand things to tell you! But first, I got you something –” She turned around and went out of the room.
Elsa blinked. Anna always seemed cooped up when she visited, as if the walls of Arendelle were a cage to her limitless energy. They were opposites even there, because the open forests of the north where Anna was at her most free left Elsa feeling lost and exposed.
Elsa took a seat on the bed and waited. When Anna walked back into the room, she was holding a blanket. Elsa frowned, but didn’t ask, instead waiting for her sister to join her. Anna wobbled back to her, struggling with the weight of the blanket as if it were unusually heavy. Sure enough, when Elsa picked it up, she felt that the insides were filled with what felt like sand.
“It’s a…” She hesitated. “A really heavy blanket?”
Anna nodded eagerly. “Yes! Remember last time I was here I asked you why did you have so many blankets if you didn’t even feel the cold because of your magic –”
Elsa nodded.
“ – and then you told me that you found the weight comforting. So I talked to Maren about it and she helped me make this – we took really small and round pebbles, the ones at the bottom of the river, it took forever to gather enough, and then we had to sew them into place –”
Elsa ran her fingers over the soft tissue, feeling unspeakably moved. She felt a dull ache on her chest and a nearly-irresistible urge to cry. It was hard, keeping her walls up around Anna. And she was so tired.
“ – so? Do you like it?”
“Yeah,” she murmured, kicking off her slippers and bringing her feet into the bed. She pulled Anna closer. “Here, let’s try it.”
“Yes, let’s!” Anna’s cheerfulness was contagious. They scooted together and Elsa pulled the blanket over them. The weight was as comforting, and she toyed with the cloth. Anna cuddled up to her chest. “I see your point. It feels like a hug.”
Elsa smiled. “It does.” She stared at her sister for a long moment, building up her mental fortitude. “Anna, there’s something you need to know –”
“Stop!” Anna covered Elsa’s mouth. Elsa blinked, surprised, but fell into silence. Anna sighed. “It’s bad news, isn’t it? I can tell it is by your face. So just don’t tell me. Not yet. I missed you. Let me have this moment. Let yourself have this moment. Whatever it is, it can wait.”
Elsa didn’t have the strength to refuse. “All right,” she sought Anna’s hand and squeezed it. “Tell me, then. How is –” How is mother, she meant to ask, but there was a bitter resentment which held the words back. “– how are Maren and Ryder?”
“You wouldn’t recognize them if you saw them,” Anna bumped her feet against Elsa’s. She wore socks, which Elsa never did. “It’s been what, six years since you last went up north?”
Six years, eight months and two weeks, she thought. “Something like that. Father demands a lot of me in Arendelle. I don’t –” She gave Anna a helpless look, “I don’t mean to say that your work is lesser in any way. I wish I could visit, I really do, but –”
Anna, as always, understood what she meant even when she scrambled for words. “I get it. Mother is easier to deal with than Father. He keeps you on a horribly short leash, as if you’d run away if he let you get too far from his sights.”
Elsa rubbed her face with her palms. “Tempting.”
“There’s a goahti waiting for you if you ever do.” Anna elbowed her lightly. “You’re as much a Northrulda as I am. Don’t forget that. They’re your people too.”
Elsa scoffed. It was easy to let her guard down around Anna, easy to let too many words slip. “I don’t know. Not even Arendelle feels quite like home.”
“They say home is where the heart is,” Anna poked her on the chest. “And you keep your heart behind so many walls, it figures you would feel lost.” Elsa scowled. Anna poked her on the nose. “You know I’m right. Don’t give me that face.”
“I don’t like feelings,” She mumbled. Anna wrapped an arm around Elsa’s shoulder and Elsa sighed, leaning into her touch. “I don’t want to talk about it. Tell me of the reindeer.”
Anna’s face fell. “They’re doing all right, but…” She shook her head. “I shouldn’t worry you with such matters.”
“No. Anna.” She straightened her back, brows furrowing into a frown. “The things which concern you are my top priorities. Tell me.”
It was Anna’s turn to sigh. “Our grandfather’s dam… it doesn’t do well for the land. Each year we have to travel further for good pastures. The herd gets tired, hungry and has less babies as a result. And because we rely so much on the reindeer, we… things can get tough for us, too.” Anna turned to face her. “Sister, I tell you this because…” she shrugged. “Father won’t ever do anything about the dam. It’s too precious to him, a monument to Arendelle’s memory. But it’s not a good thing.”
Elsa felt the weight of the whole world on her shoulders, and she didn’t usually mind – or rather, didn’t usually care, making her decisions with cold indifference. But this was different. Anna had asked her a question, implicit between her words, and it was one which her heart knew the answer to.
“I’ll do something about it. I don’t know what, but I’ll study ways to solve this. I’ll fix it. For you, Anna,” She placed a hand on her sister’s shoulder and squeezed. “For you, anything. Anything, okay?”
And if it spited her father or tarnished his memory, all the better.
“Don’t say that.” Anna grabbed Elsa’s hands and pulled them from under the blanket. “You’re bright. You know sometimes we’ll make decisions that put us at odds with one another, and that’s fine. That’s just how it is, and I trust your judgment even when I disagree with it. But this, Elsa, this I ask not as a leader, but as a sister, because father sees this matter not through the eyes of a king, but through the eyes of a son. The dam is poison. It has to go, somehow.”
“It will,” Elsa bit her inner cheek, hard enough that her mouth was flooded with the taste of blood. “And I meant it. Arendelle may not feel like home, but you do.” She did mean it. The effort of saying it, or maybe the blood, made her nauseous. “I’ll take it down. You have my word.”
“It breaks my fucking heart every single time I have to leave you behind. Alone.” Anna’s hands drifted to the cloth of Elsa’s gloves, gently tugging them off and setting Elsa’s fingers free. “It’s not fair to either of us, but you got the short end of the stick by far.”
Elsa raised her eyes to the ceiling absently. The dull heartache which accompanied her every day seemed to increase tenfold when she was around her sister, because Anna was a reminder of all the things she could not have. She could have resented her sister for it, maybe, but she made a point to direct her anger to the right people.
“I did, but knowing you’re well makes me feel a lot better.” Anna’s fingers were warm against hers, and she almost lost her control right then, at the sheer overwhelming sensation of being touched. “I wish you wouldn’t do this,” she said, though she made no movement to break contact. “It’s getting stronger. The magic, I mean. It worries me.”
“You have never hurt me,” Anna squeezed her hand. “Not when you were little and just learning. Not when we made our first snowman. Not when dad yelled at me and you froze half the castle over. You’re in control. The gloves are…” Anna glanced at them, then back to Elsa. “They’re a violence.”
It was true, and Elsa knew it. And yet she was scared, because – “I’m about to hurt you.”
Anna took a deep breath, then sighed. “What is it, then? Say it, so we may stare at it in the face.”
Elsa stared at her own hands, how they trembled despite her effort, and wondered why others were so afraid of her magic, when it was her words which cut deep and left scars. “You’re getting married.”
There was a long moment of tense silence in which Anna didn’t face her, and Elsa knew Anna like the back of her hand. She knew her sister was fighting back tears, trying to hide the shock and the pain and the sheer powerlessness.
It’s all we do, she realized, and took her fingers to Anna’s cheek. We pretend to be stronger than we are, so that we may rely on each other like a house of cards.
“I saw it coming,” Anna said finally, her voice hoarse, then cleared her throat. “Mother warned me about this. That not all choices would be my own. That I would have no control over… certain aspects of my life. There’s a reason why I’ve never taken a partner – I knew it would make things harder.” She wiped her eyes with the back of her hand and scoffed. “I just didn’t expect it to be so soon. I’ve barely turned eighteen, fucking hell.”
“Fucking hell,” Elsa agreed. “The man is… not hideous, at least?”
Anna gave her a deadpan stare, then burst out laughing. The absurdity of the situation dawned on Elsa then, and she snickered, a weird mixture of despair and exhaustion coming out of her lungs as an incontrollable fit of giggles.
“I’d be more worried if I hadn’t been trying to puzzle out your taste in men for the last three or four years,” Anna fell back against the pillow. “From what I gathered, you have a male appreciation scale composed of several different types of repulsion, and not hideous is actually as good as it gets.”
The offhanded remark sparked a whole new world of anxiety which she rather not deal with, and she shoved it to the back of her mind. “You’re not too far off,” she said dismissively, then turned the conversation back to Anna. “He’s a prince, too. From the Southern Islands.”
“Right. And what’s the deal being struck with them that happens to have me as an asset?”
“It’s an open-borders treaty with plans for an eventual coin unification. I’ll give you the written details tomorrow, if you want them.” She licked her dry lips, feeling relieved that the truth was out there. “I thought you’d object more.”
“Oh, I will,” Anna smirked. “Just not to you. It would achieve nothing. But to father, for sure.” She drummed her fingers on the blanket. “I hate this. I hate that he has you telling me, instead of doing it himself. I hate that he…” Anna’s gaze grew unfocused for a moment. “He’s trying to tear us apart. Drive a wedge between us. But you and I, we’re smarter than that.”
Elsa narrowed her eyes. Anna’s tone hinted she was planning something. “What are we going to do?”
“Same old deal – ask for twice what I want, so we may settle in the middle.” Anna crossed her arms over her chest. “I don’t want to get married, much less to a stranger, but I have little hopes of changing that. But I want to get married in the north, at least. Surrounded by the people I grew up with. That’s my price.”
Elsa took a moment to think. “Can do. We’ll pressure him both ways. Sounds like a possible compromise.” She hesitated. “But he might deliver some low blows. You know father will make use of foul play if he has to.”
“Then let’s make a promise,” Anna grabbed her hand. Elsa interlaced their fingers. “Promise me that we won’t give him what he wants - we won’t let anything he says get between us. Whatever happens, we’ll talk it out between the two of us.”
Elsa nodded. “I can promise that.”
“Great!” Anna let go of her hand, only to grab it again and shake it. “We have a deal. So with that out of the way, let me tell you all about what happened at the last summer solstice festival –“
Elsa closed her eyes and listened.
Their promise was exactly as hard to keep as Elsa had expected. Talking with her father had always been a game of chess – one wrong word, one slip, and it was checkmate. He was good at reading people, good enough that in order to shield herself from his piercing mind, Elsa ended up not knowing entire parts of herself.
It was a delicate balance to be kept, the right amount of obliviousness versus self-awareness. But she kept her focus. Her father would want her to say something to hurt Anna, play into their insecurities and misunderstandings. She just had to keep herself from that.
Elsa set her face into inexpressive neutrality and waited for her father’s next move.
“This is non-negotiable,” Agnarr paced back and forth the room, hands behind his back. “The Southern Islands are valuable allies and backing off on this kind of deal would create a diplomatic storm of unseen proportions.”
“Then you should have talked to me before making it!” Anna rose her voice, just a little. “Has it not crossed your mind that you need my consent in offering my hand in marriage?”
Agnarr pinched the bridge of his nose, then turned to Elsa. “I thought I had explicitly tasked you with making your sister see sense. I expected better from you. From both of you.”
Her eyes met Anna’s for a split second and she saw a nearly imperceptible nod. There was a trick to dealing with their father – she had to let him feel as if he’d won. Elsa bowed her head. “I’m sorry,” her voice was emotionless. “I tried, but I –“
“She’d have to make a miracle,” Anna interrupted. They’d rehearsed this. Elsa managed to look offended. “I’m not getting married.”
“You are and you will –“
“I’ll do it!” Elsa stood abruptly, so fast she nearly threw her chair to the ground. “I’ll marry the southern prince. Leave Anna be.”
This, too, was a calculated outburst – a moment of emotional vulnerability, something that would lure her father into the offensive. She knew there would be backlash. She braced herself for it and saw the subtlest hints that Anna did the same – the tensing of her fists, the squaring of her shoulders, the steel in her eyes.
“Absolutely not,” Agnarr stood perfectly still, eyes going from Elsa to Anna and then back. “The Isles are a good commercial partner, yes, and their military and navy are not negligible,” He stepped forward, and the candlelight cast shadows on his face, “But they’re not worth the hand of the heir.”
There it was – driving a knife between their ribs, pushing them against one another. Elsa knew it would happen, and she was still hit by the panic the words caused, the fear that this would be the thing that drove Anna away, the thing that would make her letters stop coming.
But she didn’t show it. For this to work, they had to be perfect in synch, their thoughts united as one. So Elsa concealed, and held on to her trust.
And Anna flinched. “I see. Because this is what I am. The spare.” She sneered. “Well you better find yourself a new backup child, because I’m –“
“Anna,” Elsa took a tentative step forward. The gloves were itchy against her skin, and she longed to yank them off. “Anna, please.” Another step. Anna’s gaze softened. From the corner of her vision, she saw Agnarr watch them closely. This is what he expected of her – a last minute desperate ploy to mend things with her sister. She acted it out impeccably. “It doesn’t have to be a big thing. We can – you can do it up north, maybe. With the tribe.”
She waited for her father’s response – for her perfectly timed turntables. He cleared his throat. “Marriages are important ceremonies in Arendellian culture –“
Elsa slammed her hand on the table, and ice traveled through her gloves and over the wood, reaching the edge and taking the shape of dangerous spikes. Her father backed away, inhaling sharply, and she took some delight in the brief flash of horror in his eyes, even if the way he recoiled made her feel like a monster.
“Please,” Elsa repeated, though this time, her tone carried a laced threat.
Anna closed the distance between them and placed her hands on Elsa’s shoulder. Elsa searched her face for reassurance and found relief in her lack of fear. Like everything else, that moment of magical instability had been calculated, and yet Elsa worried.
“Okay. If you can agree to that…” Anna turned to their father. “I’ll marry this man, but we do it the Northruldan way. I’ll feel more comfortable. It’s a compromise.”
Agnarr took a deep breath, then sighed. “I suppose a wedding celebration would help quell the rising tensions up north. Fine.” He smiled, and more than ever, Elsa hated him then. “I knew the two of you would come through. You are good girls.” His eyes drifted to the ice, “I’ll have the servants clean this up.”
He walked out of the room without further words, and as soon as Elsa heard the door close, Anna pulled her into a tight hug and she felt herself crumble. “I’m sorry,” she mumbled, pressing her face against Anna’s shoulder. It was an awkward position, because she was a lot taller. “I’m so sorry –“
“It’s okay,” Anna rubbed soothing circles on her back. “I’m sorry, too. But you did good. We did good. It worked. Elsa, it worked.”
I cannot fucking take this anymore, she thought, but didn’t say. “Anna. What he said about –“
“Shh,” Anna cut her short and pulled back to stare her in the eyes. “Don’t say it. Don’t repeat it. Those words only have as much power as we let them have. You know who I am to you. I know who you are to me.” She poked Elsa on the chest. “And that’s all that matters.”
This will never end, she thought, but didn’t say. “Yeah. You’re right. I’m sorry still. I wish I could have gotten you out of this.” She tipped her head and let the ghost of a smile touch her lips. “I’ll be queen eventually. Maybe then, if you want, I’ll get him assassinated.”
Anna laughed, and Elsa felt the weight on her shoulders lessen. “I don’t know. I’ll give the guy a honest chance. I bet he’s just as miserable about this whole ordeal as I am. Maybe we’ll bond over that.”
“Always seeing the bright side,” Elsa mused, smirking. “Well, as your big sister, I have your back. Let me know if you need –“ She drew a horizontal line over her own neck with her index finger. “Beheadings or other things.”
Anna elbowed her on the ribs. “Got my back, huh? Just like you did when we were little?” She grinned. “Because I recall the exact opposite of you having my back. I recall you pranking me every single time I got within reach.”
“You were too innocent. Too easy of a target. I couldn’t stop myself.” Elsa absently wiped her own cheeks clean of the tracks the tears had left there. “You’re lucky I hardly see you. Stay around me long enough, and I’ll do it again.”
“Careful,” Anna’s hands moved to Elsa’s gloves, pulling them off as she always did. “I’ve grown up around Maren and Ryder. I’d say I am much better prepared for mischievous behavior than you are.”
“Psh. I’m still smarter.” She wiggled her fingers, thin strands of magic dancing between them. She raised her eyes to meet Anna’s. “Thank you. I –“ the words got stuck on her throat, and she paused for a moment. “It gets hard around here. Father is…”
“Demanding, authoritarian and emotionally distant?” Anna suggested in a tone far too cheery for the words she’d spoken.
Elsa snorted, then nodded.
Anna grabbed her hands and squeezed them. “Someday, I don’t know how, but someday, I’ll get you out of this mess. And then you can go up to the forest with me, chase the reindeer. And meet Maren and Ryder again! Maybe you’ll be sweet on one of them –“
“Anna –“
“Don’t give me that look, they’ve both grown up to be completely dashing!” Anna winked. Elsa gave her exactly that look, and she laughed. “I mean it, sis. Father is fucked up, but even a king can’t control everything. We’ll get you out. I promise.”
I love you, Elsa thought, but didn’t say. She wished she could be around her sister more. She wished their family wasn’t torn apart by the silent game of tug-of-war that their parents had been playing for as long as she could remember. She wished her mother hadn’t left her behind. She wished –
“I’m so fucking tired,” she rubbed her face with her palm.
“I know.” Anna moved her hand to Elsa’s shoulder and gave it a squeeze. “Go have a bath and then some sleep. Don’t worry about father. I’ll keep him busy with wedding preparations.”
The exhaustion Elsa felt wasn’t the kind that could be relieved with resting her body and they both knew it, but she acquiesced with a nod. “Are you sure you’ll be fine, handling him?”
“If big sisters specialize in mean pranks, little sisters specialize in pestering,” Anna winked. “I’ll drive him crazy with so many details, he won’t have any energy left to nag you.” She pushed Elsa forward, on the direction of the door. “Come on. Go. Sleep. Maybe you’ll feel better in the morning.”
“Yeah,” Elsa nodded, letting herself be led outside. “Maybe I will.”