Chapter Text
The first thought that Natalie had when he entered the coronation hall was that this stranger was not her brother.
It wasn’t him. Sure, it had been nearly thirteen years since she last saw him, but… that couldn’t be him. Nowhere near.
First off, that hair. Gabe was a brunette. This neatly styled platinum blonde didn’t belong to him. Neither did the sullen expression or the pale toned skin.
But no one else seemed to notice. The choir in the rafters of the chapel sang on. The sun still shone through the arched windows, and people still shifted in their seats, fighting the urge to turn around and look at him.
The stranger held his head high as he slowly made his way down the aisle. His shoulders looked stiff, hidden away under the layers of his teal vest and black tunic. Which was understandable. Big day, after all.
Natalie folded her hands together, keeping her posture up as she stayed in her spot, Ignoring the urge to itch against her green dress.
Because she knew she had eyes on her too.
After all, it was the two Goodman siblings, the only remnant of the royal family, finally in the public again after years. Who wouldn’t be looking? Scrutinizing these new faces that had been grown into in private?
She didn’t see the appeal of their gaze. They were a family with struggles just like any other. Yet a family whose titles forbade them from being like “any other family” long before she was born.
At least she wasn’t the center of attention today. People would be looking at her, sure, but many, many more would be looking at him. Or this… person who was supposed to be him.
The soft falls of his slick, black boots grew closer until they stopped, just adjacent to her. She looked up fully.
There he was. This stranger with… with her brother’s nose. His bangs. His eyes.
This was Gabe, alright.
What had happened?
He took a knee in front of the bishop and bowed his head as the choir concluded their song, his purple-tinted cape resting on his shoulders. The bells had stilled and even the creaks of the neighboring kingdom’s ships seemed to silence in the wake of the moment.
The priest cleared his throat and said something in a low voice. Her brother shed his pair of long, black leather gloves. She hadn’t noticed them before.
He grabbed the coronatorial orb and scepter as the congregation rose, a soft rumble filling the air. Natalie turned and followed suit as the priest spoke on, sealing the rite. She didn’t notice her brother’s shaking hands. She didn’t notice his lips moving in tiny motions, repeating something only he could hear.
She stared past it all. Yet still, something in her mind kept nipping at her. Something, though she wasn’t sure what, was wrong.
But before she could look closer, the priest’s voice rang out:
“KING GABRIEL OF ARENDELLE!”
The congregation roared. Natalie saw him recoil for the slightest moment before retrieving his gloves and facing the audience once more. All haste was gone in his now kingly stature as the audience settled into more proper applause and she looked over at him. A soft smile broke out across his face.
Huh.
I think that’s him.
She clapped quietly.
The bells rang as the congregation began to mingle, many slowly making their way to speak to the newly crowned king. She stepped aside. They wouldn’t be running up to speak to her. So she was the first one out.
The doors closed behind her as she entered the palace again. Walking the halls, she looked at the banners hung up this morning, all bearing his silhouette.
…She shouldn’t feel bitter. No, this was his big day. He was the heir.
And she was just… here.
But as her heels echoed against the halls, she couldn’t shake the feeling that pitted in her stomach, the one that started years ago. Not just the dread, but the fear that it wouldn’t go away… ever.
Feeling valued second, if at all. Not only to her parents, but now to her kingdom.
She made her way to the study, where her piano stood. It had been taken care of well, she’d seen to that. Minimal scratches, dustings every weekend, soft touches to the keys. She idly plunked a note and let her shoulders fall.
Sigh.
Outside, the bells kept ringing. People would still be talking. Not about her, she guaranteed.
She moved her dress over and sat down at the bench, fingers situating. Loose strands of hair fell from her bun as she leaned forward.
Sonata No. 20, Op. 49.
The notes came in time. Orderly, patterned. Predictable. Controlled.
Control….Something she’d felt she’d only been able to grasp at for these past few years.
At least the notes did enough to make her forget about the closed doors for a while. She kept playing.
She thought she would’ve enjoyed being alone all these years. She normally was fine at it, but it sure hadn’t gone as well as she thought it would. Ever since their parents had passed three years ago, she’d lost her main point of any kind of social interaction.
She was okay for a while, again, she loved being alone back then. Yet more often than she admitted, she found herself sitting by the window, watching little dots of people move about the kingdom. Wishing she could break into smiles like the customers at the market did. Watching children climb onto adults’ backs. Seeing siblings goof off.
Meanwhile, a maid would come by and ask a question. She’d nod. They’d go away. Alone again.
The closest she ever got back to any interaction outside of the staff was sitting outside his door. Back before she’d lost hope he’d answer.
She looked up as her fingers kept going, trying to forget the years in that hallway. Back against the wood, slowly forgetting how to exist anywhere.
…
Well, the ball tonight might be a start to changing all of that. Maybe… she could start learning how to have fun with real, live people. It could fix— Or challenge and utterly destroy her hopes and longings—But HOPEFULLY fix that lonely feeling that had found her.
The impossible had happened and the gates were open again, so… who was to say another miracle couldn’t happen?
If she could just drag herself to the ball.
The bells rang one final time as the congregation dispersed into the courtyard. She kept playing.
—
Later that night, the ballroom was abuzz as the band finished its tune. Men finished leading their waltzes and women finished their twirls, skirts flourishing under the large, crystalline chandelier.
The clapping slowed and the royal fanfare began as Robert, the lead servant, announced the king to the platform.
Natalie saw him slowly enter, striding with his hands folded neatly together against themselves and the same deep purple satin cape trailing behind him. New gloves, though. A lighter teal this time. He took his place and turned toward the audience, a relaxed smile on his face.
Is something wrong?
Natalie didn’t realize she had zoned out until Robert cleared his throat and said her name a second time.
“Princess Natalie?”
Oh! She picked up her dress and walked into the light. She jutted her chin up a second too late. No, too unnatural—she lowered it before settling into a practiced smile. She slowly took her spot on the opposite side of the stage, far away from him. But Robert put a hand on her shoulder and led her closer to him anyway, despite her stiffness and reluctance to do so. She fidgeted and tossed the rest of her hair over her shoulder. Her bun hadn’t been staying, so tonight, she opted for a braided half up. She liked the crimped curls.
The citizens clapped and smiled. Some cheered. She managed a small wave.
Then the music started again and the attention was off them. All there was to do for the next little bit was to just.
Stand.
Here.
…
She tried to ignore it. She tried to ignore the thought that his shoulder was just inches away from hers. That if she looked over now, they’d be face to face. This person she used to know so well- this person that used to be her best friend.
This person that was now a stranger.
Wow. This was going to be a great night and not awkward at all.
They were only gonna stand here for a few hours and pretend the other didn’t exist, like they had the last thirteen years. Great.
She fidgeted with a bow on her dress, eyes darting everywhere except directly next to her.
…Should she say something? Did he want her to say something? Was he not comfortable with her anymore? Did he want her out of here? Was he-
“Hi.”
She blinked.
It was quiet.
“Oh... uhm.. Hi me?”
He nodded, turning to her. It was the first time she got a good look at his face fully.
Those eyes… that was Gabe, alright.
Maybe his voice was deeper now and he was taller, a whole lot more different (and not to forget mysteriously blonde), but this was definitely him.
“Hi.” She said.
…
“You look… great. You’ve grown up, Nat.” He said.
She waved it off before the feeling hit.
No one had said that nickname in so long. It was strangely sweet. She let that feeling, almost like rediscovery, sit in her chest for a moment.
Her words came out slow. But none the more coherent.
“…You too. You look different. I- It’s a good different, it’s just—agh, sorry. I mean, you look great too. Yeah. The hair and everything—” She pressed her palms to her eyelids, sighing.
He paused for a second before nodding. “Thank you.” He didn’t mention anything more about appearances again.
“I’ve, uhm… forgotten what a party feels like.” He said, his voice coming out uneven. Awkward, but genuine.
“…Me too. It’s nice.” She said as the conversation slowly fell into rhythm.
Gabe nodded. “I think so too. And that smell? It’s wonderful.”
“The chocolate?”
“Yeah.” He chuckled. Even so, his voice felt much more… guarded. Controlled. Not at all free or floating like it used to be. She couldn’t hear much of her old brother’s wild tongue under it.
But maybe that was just what growing up did.
Some action caught her eye across the room.
“Wow. That tuba player sure is… working it.” Natalie said, eyes trained on the man with inflated cheeks and a determined set of hard-staring eyes.
Gabe laughed quietly. “It’s impressive.”
She smiled. All of this had been going better than how she expected. She felt herself get a little more lighthearted. “Probably. Hope he doesn’t pass out. They might need to have us sub in.” She laughed before pausing. “Do you still play guitar?”
His features softened. More like they… died.
“No. I don’t, I’m… rather out of practice.” Tugging at his gloves. Natalie didn’t notice.
“Well… it’s nice to hear music in the palace again. More than just my piano… I love it.” She tried.
Gabe nodded. “I do miss it.”
She looked back over the crowd. “Well, hey. You make the rules now. We could have more music.” He looked over at her, eyebrow raising. She kept speaking. “And the lights and the food, it’s wonderful…” she closed her eyes, whispering. “I wish it could be this way everyday.”
His eyes crinkled as he smiled faintly. “Me too.”
But he paused. His eyes flicked up a few inches above hers before his face seemed to go cold again, before he returned to the same look she saw during the coronation. Trying to be regal. Stiff.
“But it can’t.”
“Well, why not? I mean, you’re the king now, you make the decisions.“ The question came out before she even registered she’d spoken moving. She saw Gabe’s shoulders quirk up an inch as he leaned away.
“It just can’t.”
His tone was firm. He had looked away.
“I—“ She stuttered. He still didn’t look back at her. “…Okay.”
She went silent and turned the other way, her fist clenching as she mentally facepalmed.
They’d been having a good conversation. She’d been laughing with her brother. Why did it have to drop off so suddenly? She’d had a glimpse of him and then he was gone again.
She sighed, her shoulders dropping. She guessed she couldn’t blame him. She couldn’t expect the Gabe she knew. Not after all this time. She certainly wasn’t the same Nat either.
But the thought didn’t make it stop hurting. It didn’t make the feeling in her throat go away.
She muttered something about getting some air before she left out the side door, arms wrapping around her elbows.
She stepped outside, sitting on the steps in the passageway. The warm summer air was a nice contrast… but almost suffocating. Like she couldn’t escape any of this tension.
Come on…This was supposed to be her night to come back, to make some progress— and it looked like she wouldn’t get any with him.
She looked back up at the stars. Maybe she could still try her hand with talking to the citizens and visitors. Yeah. In just a minute, as soon as she recou—
Footsteps came behind her.
“Oh, forgive me-“
She turned around. A young man, probably a bit older than her, with ruddy red hair and freckles stood in the doorway. His sash denoted him as a royal.
“It’s fine. Are you looking for anything?” She said.
He shrugged. “No. Just.. enjoying some fresh air.” He cleared his throat, holding out his hand. “Prince Andrew. Of the Southern isles.”
“Everything’s south of here.” She said, resisting the urge to roll her eyes.
Oh. That was rude. Dang it.
He didn’t seem affected by the insult. Just retracted his hand.
“I guess you’re right. You’re the princess, aren’t you?”
She nodded. She didn’t know why she was so snappy. “Natalie.” She said sharply.
He awkwardly stood there for a moment.
“Uhm, may I?” He gestured to the steps next to her.
She shrugged. Whatever. She was too tired to actually tell him off.
“Quite a day, huh?” He said.
She pressed her lips together. “That’s one way to put it.”
“Oh.”
Dang it, she’d been doing it again. She sighed and resumed the regular princess posture. Come on. Socialize. Make a connection.
“I apologize.” She said quieter, the manner feeling fake on her tongue.
He shook his head. “You don’t have to apologize. It’s fine.” He waved his hand. “Yeah. Some big days aren’t all they’re made up to be.”
She nodded.
It went quiet.
Andrew tapped his fingers against the stone.
“Any particular reason? Not to pry, I just-“
She shrugged. “A combination. It’s probably fine.”
She looked into his eyes. A deep brown that seemed to change in the light every few seconds.
He stretched his legs. “If you say so.”
The silence sat.
…
“It’s my brother.” She blurted out.
Ouhhh noooo… regret filled her instantly. Like she’d just shattered a mirror. Royals didn’t talk about this stuff. Least of all with possible diplomatic allies. She shook her head.
“Really?” He said, curious.
She bit her lip. “Yeah. It’s just… strange. It’s strange to see him again.”
“Again?”
“Again. I haven’t seen him for years.”
Andrew looked stunned. “Why’s that?”
“How am I supposed to know??” She threw her hands in the air. Oh no. Her eyes were hot. No. She wouldn’t cry in front of a stranger… “I.. one day, when we were little, he just shut me out. I asked my parents why. Everyone just said it was for the best.”
“I hate it when people say that.” He said, nodding along. “It’s like they’re saying that you don’t deserve to know.”
She tried to stop. But the conversation kept snowballing.
“And now his coronation rolls around, and it’s like he thinks nothing has happened. He pretends he hasn’t practically controlled my entire life and it’s like he doesn’t even remember he shut me out or something.”
“Controlled your life?”
“Yeah.” She huffed. “Well…” she sighed. In her mind, she saw the gates close. Her parents disappear behind his door for countless hours. Missed tuck-ins.
“Sorry….This isn’t your domain,” she said, straightening. “Forget I said any of this.“
“No... it’s okay.” He jumped in. “I have a few older brothers. Twelve, actually. They act like I’m invisible too. It’s exhausting.”
She sighed, nodding.
“It’s hard to know what they want from you,” he said, looking back over at her, “If they still expect something from you or just want you to… you get it.”
She pursed her lips.
“Oh, I get it.” She replied, cradling her knees closer. As much as her skirt would let her. “It just always feels like he’s the only one who matters. It’s always what people want for him or what’s ‘for the best’. Never for me.”
“Well, what do you want?”
She paused. She really didn’t know. “Anything but this, I guess. Just a regular life where he doesn’t keep switching up and slamming doors on me.”
“That’s justified.” A beat passed as Andrew tapped his fingers again. “Maybe… you should tell him that. Talk to him.”
She snorted. “Revolutionary idea. What do you think I’ve been trying to do all evening?”
“No. You want some charge, right? So.. tell him that. Head-on.” He paused. “That’s the only way he’ll understand, right?”
“I can’t just do that at a coronation—“
“Okay, fair…When else?”
She paused. After tonight… he’d probably just retreat to his room again. Shut her out indefinitely again. Then she could pound and cry all she wanted but he wouldn’t be obligated to listen.
“…I guess tonight’s the best option. Maybe when the party dies down?”
Andrew shrugged. “People are dancing about now. Attention won’t be on you two. I say go for it.”
Natalie shrugged. “I… I don’t know if I can. Doesn’t feel right.”
Andrew looked into her eyes. “I mean, if you say so. But you deserve a day to feel seen.”
The silence hung.
She looked up. She wasn’t used to…validation. Whatever this entire conversation was. But something clicked in her mind. Maybe it was the idea of seeing him finally listen. Maybe it was the idea of getting one thing her way this time.
Was that so much to ask for?
“…Okay. I’ll tell him.”