Chapter Text
The letters trickle in one at a time, then suddenly, all at once. With each new missive, Elsa's lips thin out even further.
In the chaos after the storm which blew over Arendelle, Hans's attempted coup, and Anna finally gaining back her sister, the princess didn't exactly pay attention to what was said about herself. She was still too worried about the chance that the people of Arendelle might decide to chase Elsa out of the city.
It shouldn't mean anything that Anna was distracted for a while, trying to make sense, but she didn't guess the letters were full of congratulations for her and Hans's marriage.
How the people came to that conclusion is pretty simple to see in hindsight. Hans must have said something after leaving Anna to freeze to death, and then she just forgot about the matter completely. The people must have thought she had sent Hans away because she was angry about him mistakenly blaming Elsa for her frozen heart.
Somehow, the news has spread quicker than wildfire. The desk in Elsa's study is covered with letters.
There are even wedding presents.
"He tried to kill me," Anna says dumbly. Elsa looks up with a weary face.
"They don't know that,'' Elsa reminds her with a sigh. Almost instinctively, Anna stares at the white in line her palm. It is the only part of her body that didn't come back the same after Elsa's tears melted her frozen heart. "Most seem to think that he genuinely thought you had died by then," Elsa continues. "And that the showdown at the fjord was him simply acting out in grief."
Anna frowns and closes her fist.
"What about my unfrozen heart?" she asks. "Does no one question why he didn't manage to save me?"
Somehow, Elsa manages to look even more frazzled.
"Some think it took time for you to melt properly," she murmurs, "or that maybe Hans's love wasn't quite deep enough at that point."
Anna sits down heavily on Elsa's chair. Her eyes return to the congratulatory words as her hand tries to twist off the ring.
It's still just as stuck as it was when she woke up. She can't get it off. No matter how hard she tries, it remains on her hand.
Anna is starting to understand the desperation of girls in fairy tales when they started to chop off their own limbs, except for her it's more about getting rid of a prince rather than being able to marry him.
Anna really doesn't want to think of Hans as her fiancé, nor as a husband.
"We could just tell everyone the truth," Anna suggests eventually. She looks towards in hope, but instead of a happy smile, Elsa lowers her eyes and stares at the letters with her jaw tightening up.
"Read this."
There is one missive hidden in Elsa's skirt pocket that she now pulls out and thrusts towards Anna. The red-head scans the letter with a frown and starts reading through it, her eyes widening in shock.
Dear Queen Elsa,
I must admit I was quite surprised when my son returned from your coronation with quite a tale. I was even more surprised when there were missives from neighbouring kingdoms congratulating him on his marriage, since my youngest had failed to mention his nuptials. Finally, after many questions with answers more baffling than one should hope for, I believe I have found out the full picture.
It would be best, I believe, to discuss the situation in person.
Yours truly,
Queen Vasilisa Ivanovna of the Southern Isles
Heavy silence covers the room. Anna stares at the letter numbly. There is a strange taste in her mouth and what almost feels like rocks in her stomach. What should they do now? What does the queen of the Southern Isles want?
"What do we do?" Anna asks, her voice shaking horribly. Elsa straightens out her back and stares at the letter with an unreadable face.
"Hope that she doesn't want to ruin your reputation," is Elsa's answer.
Anna glances at her sister questioningly.
"Ruin my reputation?"
The words make Elsa sigh and rub at her forehead. She starts to walk back and forth in the room with sharp, quick steps. Anna wonders just what has made Elsa act like that.
"People have been talking," Elsa states, frost very nearly visible in her words, "about how you behaved at my coronation."
Anna stares back at her sister blankly.
"What about it?" she asks. "Did I eat too much chocolate?"
Elsa looks pained as she stops suddenly.
"They think you may have acted with too many liberties in the garden," Elsa answers bluntly. "With Hans." Her icy eyes pierce through Anna. The princess grows pale and stares at her hands, feeling infinitesimally small.
For a moment, there is only silence.
"Did you?"
Elsa's question is deathly quiet. Anna looks up, suddenly full of indignation.
"Oh, now you care about that!" she seethes. "You didn't care to talk to me about how to behave, or warn me about not being alone with a man, or even tell me that I would have other chances to find love than just that one night!"
Elsa looks down, but she doesn't seem to pay any attention to Anna's accusations.
"I'm only trying to protect your reputation, Anna," she says, her demeanour much too composed. Even after all the promises, Elsa still pushes her away. With a jolt, Anna realises that her sister thinks she did something with Hans in the garden and that the rumours have some truth in them.
Bitterness is heavy in her stomach. There's no point in trying to tell Elsa that they just danced and giggled and sang stupid songs together, or that the closes thing to anything inappropriate was their jokes about the chocolate. There's no point in trying to say anything if everyone else also thinks there was more to Anna and Hans's time in the garden than just the stupid wishes of a foolish romantic.
"I'm sure we could arrange something," Elsa murmurs. "Perhaps with Kristoff?"
Bitterness turns to distaste on Anna's lips.
"Kristoff," she bites out. "The guy who did nothing but insult me all the way up the mountain and all the way down the mountain. Surely marriage with him would fix everything. After all, he is such a charming man and well-respected in Arendelle. Besides, have you forgotten about the trolls? Do you really want them as your in-laws, Elsa? When we visited them, they tried to wed me to him as soon as we arrived. I don't trust them at all."
Elsa tilts her head. Finally, she seems to be listening to Anna.
"We still have other options," Elsa states thoughtfully as she takes a seat on the desk, crushing some letters beneath her. "There are quite a few princes who won't mind a bit of a scandal. We could arrange a marriage with one of them. A reputation won't matter that much if they have a chance at marrying the crown princess of Arendelle."
Anna hates how casually Elsa presents that option.
"But then I wouldn't love them," she insists. Elsa gives her a blank look.
"Do you really want to be so careless with your heart again?" Elsa asks. Anna feels like she's been slapped by her sister, while Elsa doesn't even seem to understand the cruelty of her words.
Anna storms out. Elsa's voice calls out after her. The queen of Arendelle's voice cracks on the second syllable, and slowly, she puts her raised hand down.
Although she is furious at Elsa, Anna keeps her mouth shut. People still think she and Hans are married, and as hard as it is to keep her smile going when she starts to receive congratulations on her not-marriage, Anna recognises the need to stay silent.
She still has no idea where they stand with one another. Every now and then, she looks at the scar that crosses straight through her palm, her fingers feeling around its edges and recognising its depth, and she wonders how hard Hans tried to strike with his blade. He was aiming for Elsa; the blow would've been enough to slice through her neck, killing her instantly. If Anna hadn't stepped in at the last moment, if she hadn't frozen solid right then, Hans's blade would've cut her hand off.
Biting her lip, Anna stares at the blank piece of paper which rests on her desk. When Elsa told her to write to her perceived husband and probe for more information about the situation at the Southern Isles, Anna was too angry to even think about how hard it would be. The pen rests on her desk, neat and fancy and much too threatening in its innocence. With a sigh, Anna picks it up. The tip hovers over the white paper until a drop of ink lands on it, spreading into the veins of the paper. Anna hurries to blot it off. What does one write to an almost-love that turned out to be a villain? What does one write to a man who everyone else thinks of as her husband?
This truly is a mess and a half. If Hans was still in Arendelle, maybe Anna could just go and speak with him (or scream at his face and slap that smirk off his lips), but they sent him back to the Southern Isles on the first possible ship.
Her handwriting is atrocious as she scribbles out his name, so badly do her hands shake. When he reads this letter, will he sense her nerves? Will he see from her handwriting just how torn she still is?
He was fun. He made her laugh, and he danced with her, and he made her feel like she hadn't grown up behind locked doors. It's hard to believe he lied about everything. There must have been something real in the way he looked at her in the garden, in how he smiled, how he laughed at her awkward jokes. There must have been something real in the way he looked at her lips and how he whispered words that faded away oh so quickly, letting silence fill out the meaning.
Not even he could've been such a good liar. Not even he could've been so good at acting.
With a more certain hand, Anna lets her thoughts flow onto the paper. Once she is done, she sets down the pen. The letter is folded in half with an assurance that she'll look over it in the morning.
Her absent-mindedness turns out to be her undoing.
"Where's the letter?" Anna asks a few days later, staring at her desk in dumbfounded confusion. Behind her, Gerda makes quick work of her dress hooks, getting her presentable for the day.
"Oh, I sent it already," Gerda answers. Anna grows pale. "You were done with it already, weren't you? It had your signature in the end." Groaning loudly, Anna covers her face with her hands. Gerda mistakes that for embarrassment. "Oh, don't worry, dear," she says, her voice carrying a hint of laughter, "I didn't read the whole thing. I only checked who it was for and that you were done with it, nothing more."
Anna curses in her mind, knowing better than to show what she really thinks. Gerda would smack her ears if she let out all the curses she learned on their trek on the North Mountain.
"You sent it?" she asks, a horrible realisation dawning upon her. What did she write in the letter? Did she actually make any sense at all, or was it just angry rambling? Wait, did she write something that she wasn't supposed to?
Oh no. What if Hans reads it and laughs at her stupidity? What if she wrote something she didn't really mean?
Gerda gives her a sympathetic look. Anna swallows thickly, holds her breath for a few seconds, and tries to reign in her panic.
"You shouldn't worry so much, your highness," Gerda says with a kind smile. "I'm sure your husband will be more than happy to receive a letter from you, no matter how clumsily worded."
Anna bites her lip to stop herself from saying anything. She has to remind herself that no one but Elsa knows the truth. Her sister had forbidden Anna from saying anything even to the servants to stop any unsavoury rumours from spreading, but what sense is in such a decision? Really, if these same people were allowed into their bedrooms, then they should be trusted to know when to keep their mouths shut.
"I'm just worried that I may have rambled," Anna whispers, staring at her hands, twisting them in her lap until she can see the scar.
It's not long after when letters from the Southern Isles reach Arendelle. Elsa accepts hers with the same cool look she typically wears, but slips into her study with such haste that she doesn't even realise there is another letter which is handed to Anna. Silently, the crown princess heads to her own rooms. Only there does she cut open the envelope with a delicate knife.
The letter is written on much finer paper than what Anna had expected, and sealed with the Westergaard seal. Anna braces herself with a deep breath, discards the envelope on her desk, and steps out into the castle garden. Like a ghost, she makes her way into the hiding spot she found when she was just a child and wanted to win hide and seek.
When she finally unfolds the creases, she realises just how many sheets of paper there really are. For a moment she can only stare at them, and then, she starts to read.
She doesn't even get past Dear Anna before she already stops and nearly bites through her lip. It hurts to see Hans's handwriting. His letters have a distinct curl to them, a flair that almost mirrors Anna's own handwriting.
He called her by her name. Not wife, not princess, just Anna.
With a shake of her head, Anna tries to focus back on the letter. It is nothing like she expected to read.
I was surprised to receive your letter. I had thought you'd want nothing to do with me anymore, but it seems like I was wrong. Don't be insulted — I do enjoy your company (and your writing), but its continuance was... more than I could have hoped for considering how we departed.
Well, if Gerda hadn't sent the letter, he never would have heard from her, so that much he got right. Anna skims over the rest of the first page. There is barely anything noteworthy in the words. They seem almost distant, as if someone had been telling him what to write. Even the second page is much the same, but then, her eyes catch onto the last, hastily written lines at the end of the third page.
All said and done, I'm glad you're well and unhurt. When you appeared out of the storm, it shook me to my core. I think my heart stopped when I realised where my blade was going to hit.
I've come to the realisation I much prefer you well and healthy. I am sorry for thinking I didn't.
What is his game? What is he trying to prove? A frown marring her face, Anna rereads the words, trying to parse out their meaning. Is he keeping up a front, trying to distract her from the truth? Does he think someone else might read these letters as well?
Gathering her skirts into one hand, Anna marches back to her rooms, almost knocking over a servant in her haste. She yells out a quick apology over her shoulder before tearing down the corridor and sliding to a stop before her door. Once inside, she picks up the first pen she sees and writes out the second letter with much more ease than the first one.
Dear Hans,
The nerve of you! Your apology isn't accepted, since I doubt you meant a single word of it. If you really want to convince me of actually having a heart, you'll have to do much better next time.
With the fury of a woman scorned, she scribbles out a full page, blotting ink all over before filling out a second page in much the same manner. Finally, she slashes her name at the bottom of a third slip of paper, then thinks again, and continues writing.
P.S. I'm not completely unhurt — I have a scar where your blade struck me. Not a big one, but enough to remember where it came from.
Full of indignation and self-righteous fury, Anna shoves the papers into an envelope, seals it with her personal coat of arms pressed onto thick red wax, and waves it around until the seal hardens completely. She stalks down the corridor, searching for a trustworthy face.
"Kai!" she cries out. He turns towards her, alarm turning into relief.
"Yes, your highness?" he asks with a slight bow. Anna waves the letter she is still holding onto.
"Can you post this for me as soon as possible?" she asks with a hard glint in her eye. "It's going to the Southern Isles.
Kai raises an eyebrow, but the look on Anna's face stops him from asking any additional questions.
"Certainly, your highness."
Kai accepts the missive and disappears with it. Anna lets out all the air from her lungs and returns to her rooms, much more cheerful than before.
For some time, Anna forgets the existence of Hans and the Southern Isles completely, pushing every thought about them back into some corner of her brain that she refuses to acknowledge. After three whole days of pretending, she reads through his letter again, this time analysing each word with all the consideration that can be mustered after between midnight and dawn.
The tone is cordial, but there is something in the words that doesn't seem completely like him. Anna frowns as she goes back a few lines, trying to figure out what exactly is off about the letter, but ends up even more frustrated than before.
Hans seems to dart around many of the more serious topics. It is almost like he is avoiding mentioning anything Anna might want some answers for, but the way he acknowledges the things he does is all off. Anna's frown grows even deeper.
She hides the letter underneath her pillow and wonders what is going on at the Southern Isles.
"How are your letters going?" Anna asks Elsa one night when they're having dinner together. Her sister looks up, a frown already growing on her forehead.
"Which letters?"
"The ones to the Southern Isles."
Elsa seems suspicious of Anna. She shrugs.
"I was just wondering," Anna states, twisting her toes beneath her dress. "It would be nice to know whether they're going to ruin my reputation or not."
Elsa sighs as she rubs her temples.
"The Westergaards refuse to punish Hans, claiming that he did nothing a reasonable person wouldn't do, considering the circumstances he was in. Queen Vasilisa has announced that she'll be coming to Arendelle to talk through things in person."
Anna's stomach seems to drop through the floor all the way to the wine cellar, then picking up a shovel and burrowing as deep as possible. Anna stares at Elsa incredulously. Her sister seems to mistake the paleness of her face for rage instead of worry.
"I'm sure we can get them to punish Hans somehow!" Elsa hurries to reassure her. Anna shakes her head sharply.
"No!" she says suddenly, then bites her lip. Elsa stares at her, not understanding, as the crown princess tries to find the right words to say. "I wasn't worried about that," Anna says, softer now. "I just... he isn't coming to Arendelle himself, is he?"
Elsa cocks her head as she considers the question. She refuses to meet Anna's gaze.
"I doubt it. Queen Vasilisa probably has read between the lines. She must understand that her youngest son isn't welcome here anymore. I doubt she'd break etiquette quite as blatantly as dragging him here would mean."
Anna lets out a sigh of relief. Her gaze drops. For a moment, she plays with the end of her braid and allows herself to believe that all will turn out just fine.
"I just wonder what the people will say," Anna murmurs. The room seems slightly colder. "The rumours would truly be something if he appeared here, but the gossip will be a lot worse if he doesn't. Seems like I can only lose, huh?"
There is snow falling from the ceiling. Anna frowns at Elsa.
"I'll make sure there will be no gossip within palace walls," Elsa says vehemently. "If he ever shows his face here, I'll make sure to keep him as far from you as possible."
Anna hesitates for a moment, but eventually, she nods.
"We don't have to worry about that now, though," she states and goes back to her dinner. Elsa's eyes remain on her for a moment longer before she, too, enjoys their slightly chillier supper.
Things will be easier once they have talked through everything. Even so, somehow Anna doesn't really mind the thought of seeing Hans again. Dread doesn't pool in her stomach at that thought. No, it feels much more like...
...anticipation?