Chapter Text
It was late afternoon. The sky was cloudy, and the fjords were cloaked in mist, framed by the imposing mountains in the distance. A soft breeze was blowing.
Elsa sat down at her writing desk in her bedroom—the one she used for purely personal activities, not the heavy oak desk on which she dealt with affairs of state. Her room was quiet, calm, still. It was neither shadowed in darkness nor brightly lit, but instead had a sort of pearly grey light, soothing in its moderation.
She was alone, for once—ever since the end of the Eternal Winter, Anna had stuck to her like white on snow, and today had only been persuaded away by the prospect of going mountain climbing with Hans and Kristoff. Anna insisted she was already an expert. Kristoff and Elsa knew otherwise.
Elsa hadn’t minded Anna’s clinginess. In fact, she had craved it. After so many years with so little contact, it was wonderful to be near her little sister again. But today, it was good have some solitude.
She had a letter she needed to write.
Her heavy braid hung over her shoulder as she pulled the chair forward, the carved wood creaking. Elsa stared out the window for a moment at the view, eyes searching. Then she pulled her soft robe closer and reached for pen and paper. She hesitated for a moment, pen poised, to collect her thoughts.
Her mother and her mother’s sister, Aunt Arianna, had always been close. They’d kept up frequent correspondence even after her mother’s marriage, until, more than twelve years ago, Mother’s letters had suddenly become less frequent. More reticent. And then they’d stopped completely. When she died.
Elsa felt that she owed it to Aunt Arianna to continue the correspondence. To develop that relationship. To maybe, finally, fill in all the blanks that Mother had left out. Unreserved communication with nothing to conceal and nothing to fear.
It would feel good.
Elsa felt that she owed it to her cousin even more. Rapunzel had helped her so much. Her words had been exactly what she needed, even if she hadn’t realized, hadn’t appreciated it at the time. Even if she’d pushed her away.
There was a debt there. She was determined to repay it. To write to Rapunzel and thank her. To let her know, finally, just what Rapunzel’s gift had meant.
Her pen dallied. How to start?
Elsa closed her eyes, thinking. She started remembering that night, the night she’d met Rapunzel. How it had started….
It had started with the simplest of words.
*
Six Months Ago
“Hello!”
It was practically a squeal.
Elsa sat, petrified. She made no outward sign of her inner turmoil—conceal, don’t feel, don’t let it show—her back was still perfectly straight, her chin still up, her hands still neatly folded on her elegant dress. She rubbed her fingers together, a nervous habit to make sure her gloves were still there. After years of wearing them, she’d gotten so used to wearing them that she sometimes forgot that they were there…she rallied. Time to be presentable.
She rose from her throne at the head of the grand ballroom, the swirl of music and lively chatter making her head whirl. Anna had seemed…exhilarated by all the people. Elsa only found it terrifying. So many people…so much that could go so wrong…
…Where had Anna gone, anyway? Elsa found herself worrying, but stopped. Calm. She’d probably just gone off to talk to someone. Elsa lifted the corner of her mouth in a faint smile. She always had been a chatterbox.
“Welcome,” Elsa said, inclining her head regally. She dipped an appropriately shallow curtsy. As Queen, she normally wouldn’t make any sort of obeisance to anyone, but she was welcoming a foreign royal dignitary.
Princess Rapunzel, daughter of Queen Arianna and King Frederic, heir to the throne of Corona.
Her cousin.
The girl beamed at her, rising up out of a sweeping curtsy that almost looked like a dance step. She wore a simple but elegant purple dress, and on her head was an exquisite tiara with multicolored diamonds, shining like the panes on a stained-glass window. Beside her, her husband, Sir Fitzherbert, straightened up from his bow, a genial smirk on his handsome face. He was tall, with dark brown hair and a scruffy goatee that somehow managed to look charming instead of disreputable. Or maybe both. It was hard to tell. Elsa didn’t know quite what to make of him, and that made her nervous.
Rapunzel started forward with outstretched hands, but stopped when she saw Elsa make no move in response.
“I’ve been wanting so much to meet you!” she settled for exclaiming kindly, reaching out for her husband’s hand instead. “You probably don’t remember me,” she added, looking at her quizzically.
Elsa remembered her. Well, she’d never met her, but she’d heard all about Rapunzel. Her mother did use to talk about her sister, and the tragedy of their lost child, and then later on she heard the whole fantastic tale via ambassadors and tutors. Spending your life locked away in a palace is no excuse not to be informed about international affairs, not if you’re preparing to become the future queen of your nation.
She still couldn’t quite believe everything this girl had been through. It seemed so incredible. But…wasn’t Elsa the one cursed with magical powers that she didn’t understand, powers prophesied by the mountain trolls to be her undoing if she didn’t properly keep them in check? Powers, the trolls had warned, that were so incredibly dangerous that she was a threat to all around her, and must be properly distanced and isolated and controlled and limited…
Who was she to judge what was incredible or not?
Elsa, unable to help herself, flicked a curious glance at Rapunzel’s hair, short brown hair that softly curled about her shoulders. Rapunzel laughed, having noticed the look, and said,
“No, my long golden locks are gone, never to return. It’s an immense weight off my shoulders, I can tell you, though I do miss being able to do some of the more elaborate hairstyles. Not much you can do with short hair.”
Sir Fitzherbert chuckled and bumped shoulders with Rapunzel.
“I always liked brunettes, better, anyway.”
“Hush, you. It’s your fault I lost my hair anyway,” the girl laughed, but her eyes met his with the kind of look that hurt Elsa. Because it reminded her of her mother and father.
And because she knew that she would never be able to look at anyone the same way.
It wasn’t safe, because loving implied nearness, and she had to retain her distance.
“It must have been horrible for you,” she found herself saying formally, genuine sympathy bleeding through the stiff phrases. “Trapped and away from your family. We were ever so glad to hear of your safe return.”
“Yes,” Rapunzel said, her voice dimming. Sir Fitzherbert put an arm around her shoulder. She smiled up at him.
“But now I’m home safe. And I have family, and now I have you two as well! Real cousins. You can’t imagine how nice that feels. Mother has talked so much about my aunt, but know hardly anything about you! Mother says Aunt Iduna didn’t mention much in her letters.”
Elsa stiffened. There it was. The questions, the look she’d seen in the eyes of every single person she’d met all evening: why have you been isolated all these years? Is there, perhaps, any reason for the retreat? Any secrets you would like to share?
Elsa opened her mouth, prepared to deliver a cold retort and shut down the conversation immediately. To push Rapunzel away. But she paused.
The look in Rapunzel’s eyes was questioning, but it wasn’t prying or poking like the others. There was nothing grasping or greedy, like in the Duke of Weaseltown’s eyes. There was no condemnation, no nosiness. Just honest curiosity and…concern? Yes, concern. Rapunzel was worried about her.
Elsa looked away.
She changed the subject.
“I am sorry Anna is not here to greet you as well. She went off earlier…”
To get away from me, she thought, remembering the hurt look in Anna’s eyes.
“To mingle,” she said. “I think you would get along well.”
Elsa added on impulse, “You’re a lot like her, you see.”
“Really? How so?”
“You’re both so—so—” Elsa struggled for words. She didn’t know why she was saying this. There was something about Rapunzel’s steady gaze, her encouraging smile, that tempted Elsa to let at least some of the many thoughts that were whirling inside her out.
“You’re both so bright, and eager, and free.”
“Free?” Rapunzel held her eyes.
Free? Yes, that was the question, wasn’t it. Anna wasn’t really free, not as long as she was trapped in the palace, locked up for her own safety. But she was free from the one crucial thing that mattered, the one thing that Elsa would do anything to protect her from.
Fear.
“It’s just—you and Anna, you’re both like summer. Open. Warm. Unafraid.”
“And—you’re not?”
Elsa stopped. She almost didn’t say it; some part of her was screaming about how much she was letting down her walls. But it slipped out, pulled by Rapunzel’s gentle, urgent green eyes.
“No,” she whispered. “I’m like winter. Cold, and sharp, and—trapped in ice.”
“Oh, Elsa.” Rapunzel’s voice was soft, and suddenly, she darted forward and seized her in hug. Elsa froze, panicked. Nobody had touched her this way in years! It wasn’t safe!
She could feel the frost coalescing on her fingertips.
No no no no no conceal don’t feel conceal don’t feel conceal don’t feel don’t let it show….
Don’t let them know!
Sir Fitzherbert must have noticed her expression, because he reached out with a murmured admonition to Rapunzel, but she ignored him, hugging Elsa closer.
Rubbing gentle circles on Elsa’s back, Rapunzel whispered,
“You know what was the worst thing about all those years of imprisonment? It was because I believed it was necessary. I’d been lied to all my life, and I believed the lies, and let myself be controlled by them.
“But then I saw the light. I realized the truth. It was all a lie. I didn’t need to stay inside the prison. Not for my own safety or anyone else’s. I don’t know very much about you at all, don’t know what your life has been like or what you’re struggling with, but I want you to know this. You don’t need to live inside a cage.”
Elsa’s chest seized up. She bit back a sob, so, so tempted to just break down and cry out all the years of loneliness and grief and growing fear right there on Rapunzel’s shoulder. She wished she could believe that Rapunzel was right. But…
Anna, crying out in pain. Then cold and still on the floor, her face as pale as snow, a white streak tracing itself through her red hair. Elsa, sobbing, cradling Anna’s head, with the dreadful knowledge that it was all her fault.
No. She couldn’t let herself hurt Anna, or anyone else, like that ever again.
She had to be strong.
She had to be perfect.
She had to be a queen.
And queens do not cry.
Be the good girl you always have to be.
Her eyes, hot with unshed tears just a moment ago, cooled. Her heart felt like a lump of heavy ice as she disentangled herself from Rapunzel’s embrace.
Chin up. Back straight. No sign of the storm inside.
Control it.
“Thank you for your concern, but I am fine,” Elsa said coolly, folding her hands neatly. Regal tones. Majestic composure. A queen is always in control.
“Once again, I welcome you to the kingdom of Arendelle. I hope you enjoy the coronation festivities. If you will excuse me.”
And then, dipping a last correct curtsy, she turned and walked away, her train sweeping behind her.
She tried to ignore the picture, imprinted on her mind, of the dismay on Rapunzel’s face. How her green eyes flashed with hurt.
How her outstretched arms slowly dropped to her sides.
Don’t let them in. Don’t let them see.
*
Elsa flinched, for a moment, as more painful memories threatened to crowd in. But she knew how to deal with them now. She gently pushed them away and took a deep breath in, letting it out slowly.
She didn’t need to live inside of a cage anymore.
Elsa put her pen to paper. She knew how to start her letter now.
Words began to be traced in the dark ink.
Rapunzel, my dear cousin:
Thank you.
You were right. I know the truth now.
It was all a lie….