Chapter Text
Kristoff felt quite like ripping off his muslin tie from where it was secured round his throat, as he was certain it was choking him to death. That was the only logical explanation for why he could no longer draw a proper breath.
It had nothing to do with the fact that Anna was sitting so near him on the settee.
It most certainly had not a thing to do with the fact that she was discussing the newly arrived Mr. Westergaard with her sister, who sat opposite them, carefully stitching away at a cushion.
“What were your thoughts of him, Elsa?” Anna leaned forward and rested her elbows atop her knees and put her chin in her gloved hands.
An unladylike way to sit, to be sure, but nonetheless he found it remarkably endearing; especially when he considered that she would never sit that way when true guests were present. He was hardly considered a guest any longer, but an extension of the household - as Anna had mentioned at least once a week since the day she’d turned eighteen, three and a half years ago.
“I thought,” Elsa spoke after a moment’s deliberation, “he certainly looked the part of a gentleman.”
“I agree with you completely!” Anna said brightly. “He was far more handsome than any previous descriptions of him we have managed to gather.”
Kristoff couldn’t help but give a slight scoff, and he turned the page of the book he was reading firmly.
Anna gave him a sidelong glance but continued on.
“Really, I found him to be a picture of exactly what he ought to be. Don’t you agree, Elsa?”
Kristoff turned another page a bit aggressively but looked up at Elsa to see what she might say.
“I suppose,” Elsa sounded hesitant, and her eyes raised to Kristoff’s with a small, triumphant smile. “Though I would suspect Mr. Bjorgman does not agree with your evaluation, Anna.”
The use of formal title was clearly meant to poke fun at him, as the three had long referred to one another by their Christian names.
“Of course, he doesn’t.” Anna rolled her eyes and turned to look at him. “Mr. Bjorgman never agrees with me.”
“That is hardly true.” Kristoff let his eyes roam over the page of his book again, refusing to look at her. “I agree with you often.”
“Not as often as you disagree with me.” She boldly reached forward and snatched the book from his hand. “Come now! Tell me. What is your opinion of him?”
“I’d rather not give it as yours has been so clearly stated in favour of his character.” Kristoff rolled his eyes at her and reached to take his book back.
“I never said a thing about his character!” Anna held it behind her, and out of his reach. “I know little of it. I merely said he was the picture of exactly what he ought to be.”
“Oh I see.” Kristoff reached farther for it, coming close to her, though not so close as to be in danger of being impertinent. “And ought he be a pompous, arrogant, Narcissus?”
“Well!” Anna gasped, her eyes wide with surprise, still keeping the book from his grasp. “It sounds to me as though you’ve found someone with whom you wish to find fault.”
“Hardly.” Kristoff said, doing his best to remain calm.
“Forgive me if I’m wrong, but it seems as if you are quite jealous, Mr. Bjorgman.” She said again in jesting tones.
“As I would be hard pressed to find a quality in the man which I could find myself envious, I can assure you that is not the case.” Despite his best efforts to remain inoffensive, his mouth betrayed him and his words turned stern.
“Don’t hold back your good opinion of him on my account!” Anna gave a sardonic laugh, her tone a bit sharper than before.
“Believe me, I shan’t any longer.” He scowled and took one final grab for his book, completely ignoring what would be an appropriate distance between them and caught it.
“Then don’t. Tell me what you think of him.” She challenged, refusing to release her hold on the book, so he remained close.
“I will then. I think it important to tell you he is remarkably rude, as you did not see the way he treated the footman at the dinner party last night. I would also like to remind you that he is incredibly pretentious, as you seem to have overlooked the way he wore his meager titles as if they were a crown. He is also unspeakably vain, as there could be no other explanation as to why a man would ride up to London just to get his haircut.”
“That’s hardly a great distance-“ Anna started to say but Kristoff continued, holding his position firm.
“17 miles in one direction, Anna. To get his hair cut. Additionally, I’m sorry to inform you that there is also a littleness about him that was expressed when he was in conversation with only men, the details of which I shall not repeat to you. You most certainly can do better than to exaggerate such a fool into a heroic gentleman. I know you are inclined towards the romantic, but truly Anna, you can do better.”
Anna blinked once in surprise, and he couldn’t tell if it was from his words or from his nearness.
He found himself wishing, beyond anything, that he could be so near her without having spoken harsh words. Her eyes were quite like the sea, and very easy to get lost in.
Then his own eyes betrayed him and they flickered down to her lips for the briefest moment before returning to hold her gaze.
Then she scowled, her beautiful freckled cheeks becoming flushed with anger and he hated himself for being the one to cause her to wear such an expression. He would much rather cause her to flush for other reasons. He would much rather ease the tension between her brows, possibly with a soft kiss.
“Really, Kristoff.” She let go of the book and stood to her feet quickly. “There’s no need to treat me like a child.”
“My dearest, Anna, I would never.” He entreated with severity. “But I fear for you greatly, as you hold one terrible flaw, and that you are far too openhearted and trusting.”
Without another word Anna stomped from the room and Kristoff was left alone with Elsa, who was gazing at him closely.
Kristoff couldn’t imagine why he was breathing so hard, and once again he fought the urge to rip off his necktie. He took a deep breath and opened his book again, determining not to look across the room and read the expression on his closest friend’s face, though he had a good idea what he would find.
After several quiet minutes of him staring blankly at the page, Elsa spoke.
“As you know I always think your logic to be remarkably sound.”
“Mmm.” He hummed back drily.
“And I think your assessment of Mr. Westergaard to be an accurate one.”
“Then why not say anything to Anna?” He huffed, finally looking up to see that Elsa had one of her eyebrows raised as she appraised him.
“Because I wished to save you embarrassment, as you most certainly are jealous of Mr. Westergaard.”
Kristoff merely scoffed and returned to staring at his page, ignoring the prickling feeling at the back of his neck.
“Maybe not of what he has or who he is, but you are certainly envious of the interest he attracts… I think you might wish to be on the receiving end of such interest.”
Kristoff merely chewed the inside of his cheek and stared resolutely at the meaningless words before him.
“If that be the case…” Elsa continued. “I may suggest that you... do a bit more ‘wooing’, so to speak, as my sister is not inclined to fall into an undramatic love.”
“Then we are doomed.” Kristoff said not looking up, though his cheeks felt like they were on fire as he all but admitted to Elsa something that he had kept tucked away deep in his heart.
He had never spoken so plainly about what was now continuously plaguing his thoughts; that affection for Anna that he’d harboured since he was just a young lad. That secret desire to possibly, one day, win her heart as she had so thoroughly besotted his.
“Doomed?” Elsa repeated, her voice full of a soft compassion for his plight.
“Yes, doomed, as I have listed amongst my own flaws on numerous occasions, an inability to express my deepest feelings, a simplicity of nature that borders on dull, and a decidedly undramatic way of living my life. I think those things very unlikely to change, no matter how hard I might try.”
The necktie felt, once again, that it might be choking him, but he knew this time it was due to the lump in his throat as he fought back tears at the voicing of the truth he had long since realized about himself; that despite his status and standing he was entirely too plain for someone as extraordinarily special as Anna.
“Well, I should hardly say you’re undramatic.” Elsa mused after a moment’s silence, no doubt being gracious enough to give him a moment to regain his composure. “As you very nearly kissed my sister a mere moment ago whilst I was watching.”
“I did nothing of the sort.” Kristoff mumbled gruffly.
“You most certainly did.” Elsa said, then after a pause. “And I should hardly say you are doomed.”
“Oh?” He chanced.
“Not in the slightest. You are the picture of a gentleman, and a true friend. One whom I know for a fact Anna speaks of most highly.”
“I appreciate your kind words, Elsa, but we both know Anna views me much the same way you do. As a brother of sorts, and nothing more.”
“I wouldn’t be so sure.” Elsa murmured before going back to her cushion, offering no other explanation as to why she might say such a thing.