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Conceal

Summary:

A brief look into what the fourteenth actually is like and what it means for Anna's son.

Set in the same future-verse as Behind the Painting and Untitled.

Notes:

Everyone is probably spending today posting VDay fics of their OTPs and do what most people in the real world do and hyperfocus on romance. I love my ships as much as the next person and i've enjoyed so much diving into writing all the Elsamaren that i have. But that's not what i want to do today and to be honest, ships can be explored any other day of the year.

Am i just looking for more excuses to self project in some form onto fictional characters? Maybe. But i don't think a lot of people realize how difficult the fourteenth can be for some people. This was my attempt to do that through the eyes of another character, even though a huge chunk of it is also derived from personal experience.

To be fair, there is a lot; too much to fully explore in a short story. So what i give you here, the best way i can describe, is a small snippet of an annual experience.

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Work Text:

“Are we sure we have everything? The cake? The decorations? The cloudberries? The chocolate fountain?”

“Anna, everything is fine.”

Sigh.

“This year has to be perfect, Elsa.”

“It will be.”

“We say that every year and every year it’s the same thing. I can’t keep disappointing him.”

“I’m sure this has nothing to do with you.”

“Then why won’t he talk to me? How can I not know what’s wrong with my own son?”

“Anna, nothing is wrong with him.”

“Then what am I doing wrong? Why does he get like this every year?”

Brief pause.

“No, no. I’m not letting it happen again. This is going to be his best birthday ever for real this time. I’m making sure of it.”

Einar stepped away and retreated back to his room. He didn’t mean to eavesdrop on his mother and aunt’s conversation; but it was kind of difficult to avoid it. This time of the year, Anna became over-involved in everything.

He leaned against the closed door behind him, feeling his bangs sweep over the tips of his eyelids. ‘How can I not know what’s wrong with my own son,’ Anna had asked? But nothing was wrong, Elsa always insisted.

If only she knew.

But neither of them could understand.

No one could.

Lifting his head, Einar approached the window across from him. Staring outside he could see the kingdom of Arendelle in full swing for the day. There was still a few inches left of snow on the ground and rooftops from the other day. People were out and about working, doing their chores, chasing after their children…they were going about their business like it was a regular day. For some, it very well could have been.

But there was one staggering detail that stuck out like a sore thumb.

Throughout the kingdom Einar could see banners upon banners of bright red hearts. They were strung between the lampposts and stretching between buildings. Some homes shimmered with red and pink lights – or perhaps the decorations were still glistening from the leftover snow. All throughout the kingdom there were splashes of the hot colors and almost all of the decorations involved hearts.

No. It wasn’t a regular day. It could never be a regular day.

Oftentimes when Einar stared at his window he could see his reflection in the glass. He’d see his somewhat messy red hair tussled whether he had bedhead or not; eyes that he was told resembled his grandfather’s more than either of his parents; button-like nose; slender figure; and freckles dotted across his face almost exactly matching that of his sister. It was such a crystal clear image, the perfect mirror image of the prince and the kingdom that would one day be passed down to him. He was typically told that he and his sisters were more in tune with Arendelle and more a part of the kingdom than Anna and Elsa ever were growing up. It was almost poetic in a way. It gave Einar hope for his future.

Today? He didn’t see any of that. He never did. Instead his reflection was faded at best. All he could see was the red, pink, and white Arendelle in front of him. And, much like the puff of air he’d breathe onto the window, he vanished within seconds.

His eyes turned down, watching his fingers flex in and out. He should do something about that.

Turning, he moved towards his desk. He opened the drawer and carefully removed a pair of turquoise gloves. He carefully placed them on the desk, flattening them out and resting his fingers over the long fabric to allow them to adjust once again. Letting out a breath, Einar steadily slipped one glove onto his left hand, evening it out, and then repeated the motion with his right hand. He exhaled once more. He could do this. Just like he always did.

Conceal.

“Yup. Something is definitely wrong.”

Einar blinked. He didn’t even hear Anna knock like she always did in that same rhythm. He must have been so caught in his annual ritual that he tuned everything else out.

“With you?” he inquired, turning to his mother.

“No, with you.” Anna lightly took his hands in hers, running her thumbs over the material. “You’re wearing your aunt’s gloves. You always do that when you’re nervous.”

Did he?

He never realized.

He could have sworn it was only in February but….

But he wasn’t nervous.

He was mentally preparing.

He knew the story of the gloves all too well. But his situation was much different. The gloves were all manufactured to control Elsa’s powers. But all they really did was hinder and hurt her. They were still sentimental, of course; why else would they have been kept in the attic otherwise? Either way, she never actually needed them. It turned out that Einar did.

Conceal.

“So!” Anna piped, garnering his attention once more. “We have the ballroom all set up. Everyone’s going to be here soon. They can’t wait to celebrate you. We’ve got all your favorites. Don’t worry, though, I convinced your father not to make his Fungal Troll Stew this year. He’ll probably surprise you and Inga with it tomorrow, though, but I’ll make sure to help you hide your bowls.”

That was definitely not what it was called.

Though she was right about one thing; no one liked Kristoff’s Flemmy Stew – except, somehow, Honeymaren.

She even winked when she said she’d help Einar and Inga hide their bowls; she knew how happy Kristoff was to make his typical Christmas food any time of the year but she also had so much fun helping the twins dispose of their bowls. It was like their little secret. It could almost bring a small smile to Einar’s face.

Almost.

“Oh! One other thing!” Anna reached into her jacket and pulled out a red envelope.

The color and the gleam in her eyes said it all.

There would always be a larger and more special card from his parents for his birthday.

Somehow, every year without fail, before the party Anna would always give him a similar red envelope with a similar yet heartfelt card inside.

And Einar was reminded for the umpteenth time what this day really was.

“Can’t I skip the party this year?”

Pause.

“Again…?”

She asked it with so much disappointment. It wasn’t that Anna likely meant anything by it. But she got so excited around everyone’s birthdays. She went all out every single time. Einar could point out the exact intricacies and specifics of every celebration Anna had a part to play in, though he didn’t need to.

Quiet, simple get-together’s for Elsa’s.

Everything and anything ice for Kristoff’s.

Whatever hyper fixation Sunna had each year.

Reindeer, ice skating, and an all-out game tournament for Inga.

Einar’s was always a bit different.

Then again, why shouldn’t it be?

It wasn’t just his birthday.

It would never just be his birthday.

There was so much red and there were so many hearts. Even though she went above and beyond to incorporate his love of books, history, and always found a way to throw in the fascinating mysteries of magic and folklore, they always felt so lost in the shuffle of everything else. The way her eyes lit up when she saw it all come together…. There was no doubt in Einar’s mind that it was one of Anna’s favorite times of the year.

He overheard Anna say she felt disappointed. Or that she was disappointing him.

The reality was, the only one that was disappointed was Einar.

Anna had so much love for so many things and so many people.

Einar was often told that he was the spitting image of her.

How could he resemble such a wonderful, compassionate woman so much and yet be nothing like her?

How could he not have that same love inside of him?

How could he possibly live up to the impeccable reign of Queen Anna of Arendelle?

“It’s just…. You're so much like your father and Elsa. You...retreat,” Anna finally commented softly. “But everyone’s excited to celebrate you. They want to share this day with you.”

Did they?

Did they really?

Or did they want to celebrate it with people they actually loved?

Like they were supposed to?

Like it was meant to be?

“Wouldn’t it be easier to do it all tomorrow? Like Inga?” he asked.

Anna let out the faintest scoff. “Now you know we can’t do that.” She playfully booped his nose. “You’re the one who insisted on coming when you did. If you only waited five minutes you could have shared a birthday with her and only be two minutes older.”

Actually it would have been three and a half minutes.

Not that it would have made a difference.

Two, three, or seven minutes, he was still the oldest.

Except if it were only two minutes he could have been born on the fifteenth instead.

He could have a birthday with his sister like normal twins did.

He’d rather be tied to her than this cursed day.

But no, he had to have other ideas.

As if he could know in utero what the fourteenth actually meant.

Shaking his head Einar took a step back. “I just don’t want to, ok Ma?”

As soon as the sentence left his lips he realized his error.

Ma.

Not Mother.

Einar was always so formal.

Yet every once in a while something would hit him.

His voice would squeak – almost akin to Kristoff when he got nervous – and the one syllable would slip out.

Einar could try concealing all he wanted; the second he called Anna Ma instead of Mother there was no hiding it.

Anna’s arms fell and she looked as though she had been crushed. “I’m so sorry, Einar.”

Sorry.

So was he.

Conceal.

Letting out a huff, Einar slapped the envelope onto his desk and walked back to the window. He leaned against the windowsill, staring out into the kingdom once more. He tried not to focus on the reflection this time. He didn’t want to see his mother standing behind him with that face, begging to ask question after question yet restraining herself. He didn’t want to see her upset because his acting out was hurting her. He didn’t want to see his mother heartbroken today of all days.

So he forced himself to stare outside. He could see small crowds coming in the direction of the castle. He couldn’t quite decipher specific figures nor could he hear anything. He could only imagine that while there was surely excitement about joining a party in the castle, people must have also been disappointed they couldn’t stay at home.

He thought back to birthdays past.

He’d hear people passing by in the kingdom or when they’d come into the castle wishing him a happy birthday. But the more he thought about it, the more he wondered how happy anyone actually was.

Like one instance where he was coming home from school and he saw a gentleman give his wife flowers. ‘Happy Valentine’s Day,’ he said to her only to quickly be pointed in Einar’s direction and be forced to haphazardly add, ‘oh! And happy birthday, Prince Einar.’

Or a few years back when a little kid approached him with a card saying he hoped he had a good Valentine’s Day. Kristoff politely corrected the boy and told him it was Einar’s birthday. ‘Oh,’ the boy had replied, ‘that, too!’ He may have said it happily and it could have easily been that he didn’t understand, but it still left a sting in Einar’s body.

Last year at school there was a new kid in his class who claimed that, that night her parents were going to take a trip for the weekend and bring her back a special Valentine’s Day present. A classmate told her they probably shouldn’t do that because it was the prince’s birthday so everyone had to celebrate. Einar recalled the girl’s exact words: ‘that’s not fair. Why’d he have to be born today?’

As recently as the past week, Inga had been stressing over what to get her friend Dagny. Which was ironic considering she was so insistent they weren’t girlfriends. Her actions, tone of voice, and nerves said otherwise. She could do something with her girlfriend another day…. Inga tried to divert the conversation elsewhere with comments such as ‘she’s not my girlfriend...yet’, ‘but it needs to be special’, and ‘but she’s gonna get me something for my birthday, I should get her something, too’. His own sister would rather spend the day with her…whatever…than Einar. Would she even remember to say ‘happy birthday’ to him today?

Love was such an inherent theme in Arendelle.

Hell, there was a statue of his grandparents that was practically dedicated to love.

Everyone had such strong feelings about that. Especially today.

But for Einar?

He didn’t feel anything there.

Sure, he felt love for his family.

But other than that?

He was just….

Hollow.

How could he feel nothing for this day except pain?

Pain and discomfort that he spent the majority of his life burying behind the gloves?

Conceal.

“You know…. This never used to be my favorite holiday.”

Anna’s soft voice broke the silence.

Einar’s brows furrowed.

Why would she tell him that?

He heard light footsteps behind him. She must have been moving to the other side of the room, sitting on the ottoman beside the window.

“But you love love,” he commented lowly.

“I do,” she admitted. “But for so long I was never able to share that with anyone. Every year I was hoping for this magical chance to meet someone. I read so much about romance and fairy tales that I just wished I could have that, too. And when I finally got to, I thought it was one of the best feelings in the world.”

Pause.

Anna shrugged and let out the faintest ‘heh’, as if her next statement was meant to be so obvious.

“Then you came along.”

Him…?

“You came and blew every Valentine’s Day I had before out into the Dark Sea. Nothing was able to compare to when I got to see and hold you for the first time. And now, this day every year, I have the reminder of the best kind of love there is. You. Our lives stared that night you were born. I want to materialize that feeling every year. So everyone can see what I got to experience and what I get to have every day for the rest of my life.”

It was such an Anna thing to say.

If anyone else had heard that sentiment they truly would have melted before her.

Not Einar.

He felt more guilt than anything else.

How could the day that he thought was the worst day of his life, the day that he came into existence, the day that he was stuck with forever, and the day that would forever be overshadowed by this massive storm of love; when in reality it was one of Anna’s favorite days of the year?

Still.

Conceal.

“The Northuldra don’t celebrate this. Why do we have to?”

To that, Anna could only shrug. “Because it’s a tradition.”

Right.

Tradition.

A tradition to make grand romantic gestures, shower partners with love, and forego everything else life had to offer.

So why should they be expected to drop those plans and celebrate Einar?

Just because he was the prince?

Because it happened to be his birthday?

What kind of tradition was that?

It would have been better if one of those days didn’t exist.

But everyone else celebrated Valentine’s Day.

By process of elimination, then his birthday shouldn’t exist.

In a moment of desperation, Einar dared to ask something that truly reflected his youth.

“You’re the queen. Can’t you change it?”

There was a pause.

Anna responded cautiously. “‘It’ the tradition? Or…‘it’ your birthday?”

It was Einar’s turn to hesitate.

His answer came quietly.

He was beginning to get tired of concealing.

“My birthday.”

Anna lightly placed a hand on his shoulder. “I can’t do that, my love.”

He figured as such.

So he was doomed to live with this for the rest of his life.

Going to school not with krumkake to celebrate his birthday but rather as a ‘special Valentine’s Day surprise’.

Having to utter aloud when his birthday was to someone new and hear things such as ‘aw that’s so adorable’ or ‘wow you’re so lucky, no one will ever forget your birthday’.

Having to feel this annual guilt because people should have to celebrate with him instead of doing what they actually wanted to do.

Having to live with the fact that, the one day most people were thrilled to have the focus all about them, he would forever be nothing more than an afterthought.

That is, if people actually did remember.

“Are you sure you won’t change your mind when you’re older?”

There it was.

The question that he always dreaded would come up.

‘Are you sure you won’t change your mind when you’re older?’

Because a partner was always the thing that made such a profound difference.

That was what happened with Inga, wasn’t it?

Much as she was a hopeless romantic like Anna, now that she potentially had someone to spend the day with she couldn’t wait to focus on them.

That was how it was for everyone else.

And that was where Einar faltered.

For the regal and formal front he put up.

For all he tried to learn about his cultures.

For all the research he did on history, geography, math, language, and everything else he would need as a future king.

For the example he tried to set not just for his sisters, but for the future he wanted for Arendelle and, consequently, Northuldra.

At the end of the day, Einar had to do all that he did because it would all fall on him.

There would be no one else.

How could he watch, protect, and lead something so overflowing with love when he didn’t even know what that was?

When he was born on the day that had everything to do with love and yet he had absolutely no connection to it?

Did he really expect to conceal this his whole life?

He stared down at his hands; the gloves fitting him almost as well as they did his aunt.

They conformed to his fingers somehow perfectly.

Was this what it felt like to keep her ice powers hidden for so long?

When did it finally become enough that it actually…hurt?

He balled his fingers into a fist.

“That’s not me, Ma.”

His confession came quietly moments before he willed himself to rip the gloves off and toss them aside. Einar pulled his legs into his chest, wrapping his arms around them. He stared at the window in defeat and, for a brief second, he could swear he saw a faded shadow. The shadow of a boy who once eagerly awaited his chance at watching over Arendelle. But there was nothing else. There would never be anything or anyone else. 

It wasn't him.

Let it go.

“That’ll never be me.”

Four words.

After all that time he was finally able to say something.

What was wrong with him, Anna had wanted to know.

That.

That was what was wrong with him.

But she could never understand.

The benevolent, zealous, loving, if somewhat clumsy, Queen Anna?

She couldn’t possibly comprehend the storm he fought inside year after year.

He had no idea what to expect from her.

Would she start babying him and apologizing profusely for not realizing sooner?

Would she leave because his confession was just that baffling to her?

Would she try desperately to convince him otherwise?

Would she go so far as to no longer deem him worthy of Arendelle?

He shouldn’t have been surprised by her reaction yet he still found himself flinching.

She wrapped her arms around him.

It wasn’t quite the bear hug she always tried to give everyone nor did she use her unexpected upper body strength to completely squeeze him.

It felt like a warm, shiny, summer day.

Just like Anna.

“You don’t want a party either, do you?” she realized softly.

No. No he didn’t.

Einar didn’t want quite a few things.

He didn’t want a party.

He didn’t want the decorations.

He didn’t want the reminders.

He didn’t want the….

Actually, he did want the chocolate.

But he didn’t want this day.

And he never wanted a partner.

Not even just for the sake of this day.

He never wanted one.

“Ok then,” Anna acknowledged, “when you’re king you can change any rule you want.”

Einar blinked.

He tilted his head to his mother, confused.

“Wait, what?”

Anna could only smile as she loosened her grip. “If you want to cancel Valentine’s Day, you can do that when you become king. Or if you’d rather rewrite your own history and say you were born on a different day, you can do that, too.”

Pause.

“I can’t make this go away, Einar,” she lamented with a sigh.

He figured as such.

But nothing changed.

She didn't look at him any differently.

She just.... Accepted.

Maybe this meant that everything would be alright.

Or maybe some things would stay the same.

But he supposed a king could change the rules after all.

Even if it was for a different reason.

And one day he’d have the ability to do just that.

How was he supposed to continue dealing with this until then?

“But I don’t want you to keep feeling this way. And I’m sorry I haven’t been able to change that.”

How could she?

How could he change that?

How could anyone change that?

“What do I do now?” he couldn’t help but ask.

“You, my love, don’t have to do a damn thing other than be exactly who you are. And I don’t care if that’s with anyone or no one. What I do care about is you. And what I should have asked from the beginning is, what do you want?”

What did he want?

What did he actually want?

He wanted to forget what day it was.

He wanted to forget those ties.

He wanted to not celebrate anything.

For it to just be a regular day.

Nodding in confirmation, he straightened his posture and turned to face his mother, taking her hand in his. “I’d like to spend the week in Northuldra.”

Anna didn’t seem to give it a second thought. She immediately squeezed his hand and nodded in agreement. “Ok. Then that’s what we’ll do.”

“We?” he blinked.

“It’ll be just the two of us. Next year...and every year after that...we’ll ride out to Northuldra and we’ll spend the week there with your aunts. We can do whatever you want,” she confirmed. “Whether or not you see it as your birthday, I don’t want to miss spending that time with you.”

That….

That actually sounded kind of like a relief.

If anything, for the moment.

It didn’t matter if Anna understood or not.

She still wanted to spend time with him.

She didn’t look at him any differently.

It didn’t even have to be what day it was; she wanted to be with him for him.

“I just have two conditions,” she said.

Einar pursed his lips. “Really?”

“First off, we finally burn those damn gloves.”

Einar glanced at the accessory on the ground.

It didn’t sound like the worst idea.

They were sentimental, in a way.

But at the same time they were the center of so much grief.

Maybe it would help to not have to physically carry that around anymore.

That, and Bruni could set something on fire that they wanted for once.

Whether they were the only pair still in existence, however, was another story entirely.

“And?”

“And we come back immediately for your sister’s birthday.”

He should have expected that.

Einar would have liked to stay away for a little bit longer, just to allow time for everything to die down.

But maybe he could actually have the fifteenth after all.

And that could hold him over until he actually could change the rule.

“Wait though…” he thought aloud, “are you sure Father will be alright on his own here?”

“Pft,” Anna blew a raspberry. “Trust me, he was much worse in the beginning! He can handle a lot more now. He's fine. You'll be fine. Everything is totally fine now.”

CRRRRK CRACK CREEK SPLAT

The sound of ice cracking, crumbling, and shattering could faintly be heard in the distance followed by what Einar could only assume was a huge mess and Kristoff screaming about something to do with stew.

'Totally fine' his butt.

“You left Father and Elsa alone with all the people, didn’t you?”

Notes:

First off i would like to go on record and say that, even though they don't use the word 'aromantic' or 'aro' in this oneshot, i did write Einar as aromantic. He may not have the word for himself yet, but that's what he is. And i wrote it that way because how many of us actually had a word to put to what we were thinking or feeling the first time.

As of two years after first posting this and fixing a few grammatical things, i can still say that it was difficult for me to portray a character finding comfort, or at least realization, in their aromantic identity when sometimes i still struggle with it. When i first wrote this i knew i was somewhere under the aromantic umbrella as well as asexual but i always (and still) am more comfortable and proud saying i'm asexual or queer. Now, while i can more comfortably say i'm under the aro umbrella i fluctuate between saying i'm too aro for things or that i'm whatromantic (or quoiromantic as some may know it). With aspec characters as a whole so underrepresented, and with Aromantic Awareness Week taking place the week after Valentines Day, it felt like the proper time to shed some light.

That being said, it's really hard to juggle these different factors and emotions on one day, especially a day that's meant to be about celebration when you either really can't or you don't feel right doing that. And the ultimate goal was to show that there is so much more to do this day than the obvious and there's a real hurt and struggle. Sometimes it's easier to see a character go through something than try to explain it yourself and maybe, to an extent, it's easier to understand or even explain fiction than real life.

For those of you wondering why Anna couldn't change the day or, in a preferable world, erase it completely, i chose for her to leave it up to Einar to eventually make that decision because that's kind of what we all have to do. We have to figure out what to do with this day we're stuck with and we need that time for it. I know i fluctuated quite a bit with how i manage (or don't) this day and 30+ years later i still don't know what do with it. I have more issues than acceptance. But in this story right now, Einar is just starting to figure things out. He's more certain now than he probably was in years past and he's finally gotten to the point where he can vocalize it somehow rather than conceal it. And all that concealing, the holding in of those questions and emotions and negativity and doubt and erasure and knowing that no one will fully understand? It's hard. It's exhausting. And it gets to a point where, at the very least, it starts to be too much.

I do realize this is a lot to ask, but please try to remember that there's more to just February 14 than romance or spending the day with a significant other. To a lot of people, it really is just a regular day. But to some of us lucky ones (🙄) it's something entirely different. And that's not always a good thing. But if anything else, on a day when you read so many fics about your OTPs, i appreciate everypony who opted to read this one as well.