Chapter Text
"I'm a phoenix in the water
A fish that's learned to fly
And I've always been a daughter
But feathers are meant for the sky" Gabrielle Aplin 'Home'
Anna
Anna had forgotten how cold it could get. The Northern chill wormed its way through layers of cloth and skin, driving away the warmth of living – of being alive.
Your Royal Highness Princess Anna of Andalusia and Arendelle, is requested on behalf of her kingdom upon the passing of–
Upon the passing…
Those words had hit Anna with a blow that sent spider web cracks along her heart. Even now, three weeks later, if she breathed too deeply, the cracks threatened to spread.
A breath shuddered past her lips into fog. Her body shook with a tremor; she hadn’t missed the cold. Standing on the prow of the Santa Ana, she pulled her coat tighter and tucked her hands underneath her arms.
The sky was grey, heavy with snow still to fall. The water was grey, reflecting the heaviness above it. Everything was the same damned shade of grey. Anna curled her lip, eyes flitting over the monochrome, wishing for bright blue skies. For warmth. For her sister not to have – And there she was again. In the absence of things.
A war raged. Anna closed her eyes against the onslaught. Bitterness. Grief. Rage. Emptiness. They pulsed through her like a demented carrousel, throwing emotion in her face only to rip them away again.
She focused on the rage. Rage hurt less. It would keep her warm, keep her standing, keep the ice from infecting her.
Something large, heavy and fluffy wrapped around her from behind. Anna’s body jerked, head whipping to the side in a fierce who-dares-stare.
“Easy, Sol,” a tall man said, unperturbed. “it’s just me.”
Anna relaxed, leaning back into him, she looked out at the grey expanse before her. “Shouldn’t you be Captaining the ship, Captain?”
“I was,” he shifted behind her, arms locking around her stomach, “but then I saw my love in distress and the need to rescue her became too much to bear.”
She hummed in response.
“And then? No argument? No dramatic explanation of how much of a damsel in distress you are not?” he leaned to the side, catching Anna’s eye, he pouted. “No flirting?”
She rolled her eyes, but the smile was unmistakable.
“There’s my sun,” he said pulling her closer to kiss her temple.
The two of them stood like that, staring out, moving with the ship as it dipped and swayed. The first time she had done this, she had been sailing away from Arendelle. A bright future had awaited her then with a man she had been excited to get to know, to marry. Prince Antonio of Andalusia. The ship had skimmed over the waves on that day, racing her away to freedom.
Now, each dip felt worse than the last, deeper, unstable. Dangerous. She was trespassing and the ocean knew it.
“How far...?” she asked.
“About two hours more, if the wind stays as strong as it is now.”
Anna jerked a nod, swallowing heavily. “The kids?”
“Agnarr is manning the ship,” he said.
She followed the direction of his body as he turned, looking over her shoulder to where her son could be seen, looking out through the spokes of the wheel. The first mate stood at his side. He lifted a hand, acknowledging them.
Antonio shifted, bringing his hand up in response before he locked it around her stomach again. Anna brought her hands up to touch her husband’s, felt their fingers entwine.
“And Iduna?” she whispered.
“Below deck.” He turned them to face forward again, a chuckle rumbling at her back. “Doing research, probably.”
“I don’t know where she gets that.”
“I’m not sure either. It cannot be from her mother who devours a book faster than she eats flies.”
Anna pulled a face, turned her head and body in her husband’s arms to show him the extent of her disgust. “Excuse me?”
“What?” he said, smile widening. “You do not have that expression in Norsk? Comiendo moscas,” he said in Spanish, grinning. “Eating flies? Daydreaming?”
“You’ve never said that to me before.” She turned forward again.
Anna felt him shrug. “Not to your face at least.”
She tried elbowing him, but with the thickness of the blanket and the way he held her, she just ended up throwing them off balance.
He laughed, steadying them easily. “I meant no offense. You wanted us to speak more Norsk. For the kids, you said. I am just doing my duty as a devoted husband to honour his wife’s wishes.”
“Sure,” she said, shaking her head with a fond smile.
The smile fell when she saw something break the endless grey before them. Stepping out of his embrace, the blanket dropped to the deck as she curled her hands over the wooden railing.
“Arendelle,” he gave her thought a voice, stood next to her and draped the blanket over the railing.
“I don’t know if I can do this Tonio.”
A large hand covered Anna’s white knuckled grip. The warmth of his touch pulled her out of herself. She looked at him, searching his face for comfort, for strength.
“You will not do this alone,” Antonio said, dark eyes intense but mouth softening into a smile. “Okay?”
Anna nodded, stepped towards him. He opened his arms, as was his habit, and held her. They stood like that until the dot that was Arendelle grew. It lengthened, expanded. Mountains formed, jagged and snow covered. That’s when her tears started to flow.
Anna couldn’t understand it. This place had been her prison, her cage. Why was she crying?
She had dreaded coming here since the reality of the letter hit home. She was Queen now. Saddled with a burden she never wanted. Being forced to return to this place – it made her angry. Again, her sister had altered her life. But this time, she could not run away.
Nestled in the arms of the fjord, Arendelle waited. And, like something vile, the castle spires stabbed the grey sky. She managed to staunch her tears, drawing from Antonio’s warmth.
When they entered the fjord, their children joined them. Anna stepped away, picking up her son, while their daughter wrapped her arms around her father’s neck.
Anna was a foreigner visiting a new land, not someone coming home. Her family certainly looked foreign, herself included. Dressed in thick coats to stave off Winter’s approach. Skin tan from spending hours in the sun. From sailing everywhere. Seeing everything.
The town before Anna was ablaze with the reds and oranges of Autumn dying, surrounded by white topped mountains with the threat of Winter reaching them.
Anna looked at her daughter. Iduna. Named for her mother, but she looked like her sister. Fair blond hair that might as well have been white compared to her father’s pitch-black. Straight where her brother and father’s curled.
Anna buried her face in Agnarr’s red hair, breathing in the scent of him.
“There are so many people,” Agnarr said in Spanish.
“You’re supposed to speak Norsk, Gar,” Iduna said softly, “Mama wants us to – what’s the word?”
“Øve på, practice,” Anna said with a small smile as Iduna repeated the word softly to herself, over and over again.
Anna felt her anger rise again. Not only had her life been altered, but her family’s as well. Uprooted. Shipped off. Yoked.
“Do I have to?” Agnar asked.
Antonio spared his son a glance that gave him an answer.
Agnarr sighed. “Okay...” he said in Norsk. “Why are they wearing black?”
Anna’s anger hitched in her throat, making it hard to breathe. She clenched her teeth, flexing her jaw as she stared at the black sea of people before her. Her people.
“They are...” Antonio spared his wife a glance. “They’re mourning. Remember we spoke about this before we came?”
Iduna nodded.
“We will rule this place now.” Agnarr said, looking at the cliff side on their right. He turned his head to the left to look at the castle they were sailing past. “It’s cold.”
“You’ve no idea...” Anna whispered.
The sails furled above them, breaking the family out of their silent study.
Antonio set Iduna down, returning to the wheel to dock. Anna followed him, setting Agnarr down when he squirmed. He joined his father by the wheel, held by the first mate to have a better view.
Anna stayed on the deck, holding Iduna’s hand. Her eyes kept flitting over the different faces waiting for them. Searching.
For who? Someone.
Was that a reindeer? She hadn’t seen one of those in years, let alone in town.
Nine years. Had it really been nine years?
A woman with white hair caught her eye, but she forced herself to look away. No. She was. Looking...for – there he was.
A portly man, balding red hair. He broke through the rim of black clad people, making his way down the walkway. He stopped where the gangplank would be ready to welcome them. Anger softened at the sight of him.
Men bustled about behind Anna, obeying the orders Antonio barked and Agnarr echoed in his high-pitched excitement. The sailors threw heavy ropes to the hands on the walkway. The ship lurched to a stop. The gangplank was lowered.
Anna stepped forward with Iduna. She locked eyes with the man who had been a second father to her, the man who her sister had sent in her place, who had walked her down the aisle in Andalusia.
Walking down the gangplank, Anna saw his smile flit between sadness and happiness.
“Kai,” Anna said, and stepped forward to hug him.
He embraced her without hesitation. He smelled familiar, like tobacco and sugar. He felt the same too, soft but strong, practically burying her in his hug.
The words ‘I’m sorry' fell from Kai’s lips as if he had something to do with her sister’s death.
“It’s so good to see you again, Anna,” he said, breaking decorum, but she didn’t care. It released something heavy in her, made her eyes sting.
“Where’s Gerda?” Anna asked to distract herself.
“Preparing a feast of krumkake just for you,” he said with a watery chuckle.
Anna giggled. “Of course she is.”
He gave her one last squeeze before letting her go. Discretely, he wiped at his eyes and looked down.
Anna stepped to the side, revealing her daughter hiding behind her skirts and placed a hand on her head.
He glanced at Anna, the awe and excitement of meeting a new family member shining in his eyes.
“Hello there,” Kai said to the little girl, kneeling. “You must be Iduna.” His voice wavered at the name, but he recovered smoothly, excited. “Welcome to Arendelle, your highness. We’ve been looking forward to meeting you.”
“Hello,” Iduna said, dipping into a small curtsy.
Kai smiled wide, inclined his head to her. He had trouble getting to his feet again, but shoed Anna’s hands away when she stepped forward to help.
Anna was ready to quip about his age when he spoke first. The happiness at seeing him dropped as if the floor had given way beneath her.
“She looks just like...” Yes, she did. Yes, Anna knew. And yes, it had ripped her apart to see her sister not only look at her through her daughter’s eyes but have her hair and quiet nature too. Because she was still there, even when she had been thousands of miles away.
That familiar coldness soaked into Anna’s bones.
Agnarr came flying down the gangplank with Antonio close behind. Saved by the hyperactive eight year old.
Anna fell into the role of introducing her son to Kai and let Antonio do what he did best: charm everyone he spoke to.
Antonio took Anna’s hand in his as the two men spoke, making arrangements of unloading their belongings. He pointed out new additions to the Market place since the last time he had been there which sent Kai off on a tirade of gesturing at all new changes that had been made.
Anna listened with half an ear, glancing at what Kai spoke of, but her eyes kept darting to the faces around them. Searching.
Anna clung to Antonio’s hand as they walked through the sea of black clad strangers, smiling at people she didn’t know; greeting them like old friends.
Whispers rose around Anna, curious.
“It’s the princess.”
“Queen. She’s the Queen now, Bjorn.”
“Are those her children? They’re so big.”
“She’s been gone a long time, Olga, course they’d be big.”
Anna dragged herself forward. Feet like led with every step she took.
The bridge to the castle seemed unnaturally long, stretching to the open maw of the gates. Like the fingers of a drowning woman, the pointed spires of the castle loomed at the very end of the bridge.
Iduna’s small hand wormed into Anna’s clenched fist, grounding her as they passed through them.
Anna immediately saw the difference. Half of the front side of the castle had been replaced. The wood and paint were brand new. Like the pink flesh of a healed wound, it spread around the right side of the castle.
That was where the fire had been most intense. The study and parts of the library.
A groan, loud and ancient, made Anna snap around. Two guard’s in Arendellian green were busy doing something that sent ice shooting up her spine, solidifying her insides.
“No!” Anna shouted, releasing her family’s hands she reached out to the gates. “No, wait! Open the gates!”
The guards hesitated, looked at Anna, then glanced at someone behind her.
“Open the gates,” Anna commanded, drawing herself up, ignoring the painful thump of her heart against her ribs.
Relief at their obedience almost made her knees buckle. The gates groaned again, opened with a dull thud.
“From this day forward,” Anna turned, raised her voice over the blood rushing in her ears so that everyone in the courtyard could hear, “the gates will remain open.”
“Yes, your Majesty,” a chorus of guards and staff responded, dipped their heads.
Something warm and familiar settled on Anna’s shoulder. Anna turned, was met with her husband’s face, a question in his eyes. She forced a smiled, shook her head and unlocked her knees. Mustering as much dignity she could, Anna led the rest of the way into the castle.
This wasn’t a prison sentence, Anna reminded herself. She was in command now. Things could change. They would change.
Agnarr had been able to contain himself up until they were inside the castle. The foyer was large and new and everything his young mind wanted to explore.
“It’s huge!” Agnarr said in Spanish, running towards the stairway.
Iduna was less spontaneous, but just as excited. She glanced up from Anna’s side, silently asking permission before she dashed after her younger brother when Anna gave it.
They flitted up the stairs, to the walkways around the room, ran down again. Laughter filled the emptiness. Anna smiled when they shouted something at her, pointed to the stain glass windows and little statues she knew better than herself.
It would’ve been a warm time of homecoming. But, all Anna could focus on was the sting of smoke hanging on the fringes of her senses. The smell of paint was stronger inside; the roof had also been replaced.
Anna stood in the middle of the room, with Antonio at her side, and imagined a time when this room had been filled with tables. A thousand salad plates. A feast of celebration. The very place where she had first laid eyes on Antonio and the other suiters ready to –
Kai cleared his throat. Such a familiar call to attention, Anna couldn’t help but smile. She turned to see him hold his arm to the side, gesturing.
“Travesura,” Antonio called his children, “let’s go.”
Anna couldn’t help but smile at his nickname for them. Trouble. They always seemed to get into one form of trouble.
Their children trotted behind them, their footfalls a jumble of noise, excited voices chattering about everything they could do and everything they could find.
Anna bit her lip, focused on the back of Kai’s head as he made his way towards the kitchens, towards the dining room. The smell of paint was less prominent here, a sweeter fragrance had covered it.
The children immediately perked up, urging their parents to go faster with little playful shoves.
“Come on, come on, come on!”
Their voices tugged on a memory that wanted to surface. One where a little Anna did just the same with a young Elsa. On their way outside to play in the snow. Anna pushed it down. Down. Deep down. She faked a smile and picked up her pace as her children urged her to go faster until they entered the dining room. Anna’s eyes fell on the head of the table immediately. She looked away from Elsa’s ghost there and turned her head towards the kitchen.
Gerda looked the same. Her hair had greyed by her roots, but her smile was just as she remembered. Large and full of a warmth that eased her trembling heart enough for her to return it. Her hugs were the same too. And her eyes glistened, but the women ignored it, focussing instead on the children as Anna introduced them to her.
Gerda caught Anna’s eye when Iduna curtsied. “She looks just like –”
“Yes.” Anna straightened and folded her hands before her tightly. She knew. Yes, it still lacerated her heart whenever her mind betrayed her.
Gerda’s eyes flit to Anna’s hands before she nodded and turned away.
The rest of the day passed slowly. Too slowly. Anna reintroduced herself to the castle, walking through it with her family. She ignored the numbness that had started to settle in her bones, replacing the cold.
Tomorrow was coming.
Tomorrow. If she could get through tomorrow, then she'd be able to thaw. The she'd be able to live again. Or learn to at the very least. She held on to that thought, clung to it as nostalgia ripped her apart from the inside out.
Tomorrow.