(See the end of the chapter for notes .)

Idunn and Anna talk and decisions start to have their fallout.

Chapter Text

“We need to talk,” Idunn said, setting her coffee down on the kitchen table. “Have a seat.”

Anna swallowed a lump in her throat. Her footsteps sounded loudly against the tile as she walked over. “What about?”

The chair seemed to screech as she pulled it out across from Idunn, but Anna kept her breathing in check. Pretending normalcy had always been easy for her. She could handle this. “Did something happen?” She frowned in concern. Genuine concern. Maybe something really did happen.

“You need to figure out what you’re doing.” Idunn didn’t sound angry, but she didn’t sound pleased either.

Terse. Anna settled on terse.

“Figure out what?” Whatever was going on, she would find a way to get it back under control.

Idunn sighed. “You haven’t broken any rules because we haven’t set any, but that doesn’t mean we’re not having problems. You’re out all the time and your stories are getting repetitive. You won’t pick a college. You’re noticeably absent whenever Elsa is home from college.” Something in her eyes flashed. Or maybe Anna imagined it.

“Adgar is, one way or another, your father.” A pause, awkward and tense with history. “I understand that you’re reluctant to let him fully adopt that role, but... concessions and compromise may be in order.” Idunn frowned and sat forward. “I’m not here to mother you, but I’m hoping a push might give you cause to figure out what you’re doing.”

Anna’s heart pounded in her chest. The list stung a little, like the sip of wine she’d tried once and grimaced at. “Maybe it won’t matter soon.”

Idunn stilled. She regarded Anna for a moment before saying, “What do you mean?”

“I’m leaving,” Anna said, before she could overthink it or cut herself off. A beat later, she grimaced. “I’m going to leave,” she amended.

A series of emotions flickered across Idunn’s face, but Anna couldn’t read them. Several long seconds passed before Idunn’s eyebrows drew together, though Anna couldn’t tell if it was with disapproval or frustration.

“Elsa left today,” Idunn said casually. “She bumped her flight up and said it was urgent.” Nothing about her tone indicated a non-sequitur.

“What?” Anna sat back. “Wait, she was supposed to leave in another couple days. Why did she go back early?”

“I was hoping you could tell me.”

Chills crawled up Anna’s back. She crossed her arms to help cover the goosebumps that ran down her arms. “She didn’t tell me anything about it,” Anna said. That much was true. Sticking to carefully selected truths was starting to feel like a good idea.

“Since graduation, you and Elsa have been so odd.” Idunn stood up and stretched before walking to the sink. “You’re continuously avoiding each other, except for when you’re not and suddenly you’re polite and fine?” Idunn turned on the water and rinsed her mug. “Fine enough,” she added.

“People are complicated,” Anna said. “Stuff happens. We’re teenagers.” Generalizations seemed like a safe route. Make the Elsa stuff come across like standard sitcom drama.

Idunn turned around and frowned. “Even when things seem normal, there’s always something awkward and tense about you.” She didn’t even acknowledge Anna’s comment. “More than anyone I’ve seen before in Elsa’s life, you were her best friend, her closest confidant.” Idunn leaned back against the counter. “And clearly that isn’t gone. Sometimes I see you two and you’re thick as thieves together, like nothing ever went wrong.”

Eying her across the room, Anna shrugged. “What makes you think something went wrong?” As the words came out of her mouth, it occurred to Anna that, maybe, she didn’t really want Idunn to answer that question.

“I heard you two shout at each other, briefly, in the kitchen earlier.” Idunn’s voice sounded excessively casual, devoid of any tonal markers to tell Anna what else she was thinking.

Anna felt the hair on the back of her neck stand on end. “Yeah?” It took all of her willpower to tramp down any nervous habits. No biting her lip, no wringing her hands, and no quickening of the breath.

“As soon as you left, Elsa came in with this emergency and said she needed to bump her flight up immediately. She put the cookies in the oven and was gone before they were done baking.” Idunn’s voice turned distinctly cool. “And I won’t try to figure out if what she said is the truth or not. I get the sense there are more hidden and complicated truths to uncover.”

They gazed at one another for a long moment. Anna’s throat felt tight as Idunn asked, “What is going on between you and Elsa?”

Anna’s heart raced. She briefly wondered if it was possible to have a heart attack at eighteen.

Something in Idunn’s eyes seemed familiar and searching. The set of her mouth reminded Anna of a teacher who asks a question they already know the answer to.

And, somehow, that made everything easier. That she’d told Idunn she was leaving felt distant and relevant all at once.

Anna took a deep breath that soothed the ache in her throat and chest. If Idunn knew, or at least suspected, then all Anna had to do was control how she confirmed things, or didn’t.

She chose her words with care. “You always used to tell Elsa that you wanted her to be able to choose what kind of relationship we wanted together, that you didn’t want to push sisterhood on us, unwanted. As I understand it, that, among other reasons, was a large part of the justification for the initial distance between us as children. You didn’t want to foist something complicated on us, that way we could choose when we got older.”

Idunn tilted her head. “Yes...” She seemed puzzled by the direction Anna had taken things in.

“Well... we made our choices,” Anna said. “We chose something... a little wrong.”

Idunn took a sharp breath.

“We chose it a little early,” Anna hurried onward. “I need this space and I’m leaving for a lot of reasons, but core among them is this: I don’t want to be Adgar’s daughter and I don’t want to be Elsa’s sister.”

Exhaling slowly, Idunn closed her eyes for a long pause. She didn’t seem angry, however, maybe just... resigned? She cleared her throat. “Are you saying that you and Elsa...?”

“I’m not saying anything,” Anna said carefully. A fierce blush invaded her cheeks, but her voice sounded cool, controlled, and distant. “I just... I graduate soon. I’m going to be getting my affairs in order. As your... ward, for the time being, I was hoping you could help me one last time. Help me get set up to go.”

Idunn’s expression pinched in concern. Anna’s heart lifted at the thought that, after her all-but-confession, Idunn might still be concerned for her.

“I... I love you,” Anna added. Because she did, although Idunn wasn’t her mother. “But I can’t stay here and... though I know it’s wrong to expect it, I need your help.”

Regarding her neutrally, Idunn seemed to come to some private conclusion. She nodded once to herself, then said, “Did Elsa ever tell you about her aunt?”

Anna blinked. Another non-sequitur, but she was getting used to rolling with them at this point. “Uh, Adgar’s sister? The lesbian?” Adgar had kept meaning to get her to visit, but the timing had never worked out since Anna had moved in.

“ My sister, not his.”

“Oh, yeah.” Anna nodded. “She said, uh, you two had a falling out. It’s an awkward family thing?”

Idunn nodded again, but slower this time. She sat back down at the table. “When I was engaged to marry Adgar, my sister intervened and told me I would never be happy with him. She told me I was making a mistake. When I married him anyway, we had a falling out. We’ve never spoken since.” Idunn smiled oddly. “She really hated him.”

Anna frowned, still trying to follow the reason for the change of topic. “Why’d she hate him? Why didn’t she want him to marry you?”

Idunn clasped her hands and gazed at a spot over Anna’s shoulder. “Earlier in our lives, we had chosen something... a little wrong.”

Anna’s jaw dropped open. “Are you saying that...?”

“I’m not saying anything,” Idunn replied carefully.

They looked at one another in silence across the table. Anna blinked and looked down after a moment. There was no way Elsa knew. She tried to imagine how Elsa would react to the revelation, but couldn’t come up with anything by the time Idunn started speaking again.

“How can I help you?” Idunn’s voice was distant, but not cold.

It took Anna a long couple seconds to realize what Idunn was talking about, to remember that she was leaving and that’s what this conversation was about in the first place. She felt oddly understood as she said, “Help me break it to Adgar.”

Idunn raised an eyebrow. “Break what?”

“That I’m leaving,” Anna added quickly. A mild blush colored her cheeks. “Just that I’m leaving, and, um, the other reasons why. That I’m going back to Tennessee.” Plans formed in her head as she spoke. Conveniently, she’d had a call with Merida just a couple weeks ago. “I have experience as a stablehand, and there are a lot of horses down there.” She’d figure out a job. She’d figure out housing. “I know my mom had a few friends who might be willing to help me out.” She’d take a page out of Kristoff’s book and go to community college while she worked. “I’m going to decline my acceptances for the colleges I applied to. Or defer them. Something.” She wouldn’t have to give up the equine medicine plans she had. It would just take a little longer to make them happen. “I don’t have it all planned out, but... my choice is made.”

And, as she said it, Anna realized it was true. Really really true.

“And what is your plan regarding Elsa?”

Anna blinked. “Huh?”

Idunn leveled a stark look at her. “You’re not leaving just because of awkward father feelings.”

“I’m trying to... to give us another shot, I guess.” Feeling restless and exposed, Anna stood up and paced over to lean against the kitchen counter. “The plan is to leave, completely cut family ties here. Give me a chance to find and become myself.” She paused and stared down at her hands. “Also, so that maybe I can come back one day. And... and maybe then I can just be, um.” Idunn had expressed no judgement at all, but Anna blushed deeply as she muttered, “be Elsa’s girlfriend. Person.

“I don’t know what I’m doing,” she continued, “but... I feel like you and Adgar make more sense as mother and father-in-law figures than anything else. I just care about you too early, and Elsa and I aren’t a good fit right now.” She sighed. “And I know we might never be, but I’ve got to give us a shot and... and I’m just trying to help everyone?”

Anna’s throat tightened and, for a moment, she thought she might cry. She turned away and tried to force herself to focus on the corner of the oven.

She jumped with Idunn put a hand on her shoulder. “When will you be ready to talk to Adgar?”

Anna blinked and rubbed her eyes. “Tonight?” She felt monumentally tired, but the idea of dragging everything out further, of holding on to one more secret even another day, felt like vise around her chest.

Idunn raised an eyebrow. “Are you sure?” Her tone betrayed no preference one way or the other.

Anna nodded. “Let’s... let’s just get it over with.”

“That... is prudent.” Nodding absently, Idunn took a breath and steadied herself. The habit reminded Anna of Elsa. “I will support you,” Idunn said. “Are you ready to go upstairs?”

Unsure if it was okay, hesitation weighed on Anna’s chest for a long moment before she turned toward Idunn and hugged her.

And it was so strange, in the moment, to realize she hadn’t had a hug like that, honest and protective, since her mother had died.

Despite all the awkwardness and newly dug-up secrets between them, Idunn hugged Anna right back. “It will be okay,” she whispered.

Anna believed her.

“Let’s go.”

*

Adgar refused to believe Anna at first.

When he finally did, Anna felt cruel.

“But... why?” He blinked at her, looking oddly young. “I want to do so much for you now, to change everything.”

Anna sighed. “Because I don’t want you to do any more.” She smiled sadly. “Despite our tensions, I recognize that you’ve done so much. I... I’m not really daughter material though, and I’m going to leave before you do more for me.”

Idunn leaned against Adgar’s shoulder and slipped a hand into his. “Sometimes the best way to support someone you care about is to support their decisions, even if they don’t make sense to you at the time.”

Adgar looked at Anna, expression pained.

Anna looked at Idunn and thought about her sisters.

Idunn looked at Adgar in a way that made love seem complicated.

“There will always be a place for you here,” Adgar said at length. The vulnerability she’d seen on his face was starting to withdraw.

“Thank you,” Anna said. And she wanted to leave it at that. But she couldn’t slam the door shut, at least not any more than she already was. “Maybe... maybe someday, if I have the right way to return, I’ll come back for it.” She hesitated, then added, “You’re both good people. And I care about you. That—that’s part of why I’m leaving.”

Idunn smiled politely and nodded to Anna in encouragement.

Adgar exhaled breathily and ran a hand through his hair. “We... I had all these plans...” He wouldn’t look at her.

Anna sighed. “Plans... don’t always work out.”

And she knew that going into this, but... if she couldn’t work out this alternative path to becoming family, the secrecy and eternal half-step from Elsa wasn’t worth trying to stay for. It was a long shot, but she’d rather leave and lose them all than stay and maintain such an agonizing status quo.

Plans didn’t always work out, but Anna was reconciled to every possibility this one held.

“How can we help?” Adgar said, earnest.

Anna blinked and immediately frowned. Pulling away from their help, which she couldn’t currently return as familial affection, was half the reason she was leaving.

Idunn seemed to understand. She placed a hand on Adgar’s shoulder to still his immediate response to Anna’s frown. “Think of this as a graduation present, one last gesture of goodwill.” She paused, reading Anna’s face further. In a drier tone, she said, “A bad takeoff is worse than no takeoff at all.”

After considering for a moment, Anna nodded. “That... that makes sense.”

“Keep the car,” Adgar said immediately. “It... it’ll keep you going for a while.”

The conversation turned safe and technical. They discussed, relatively calmly, logistics, parting gifts, move-out dates, and Idunn knowing where to pick up moving boxes for free. Somewhere, in all of the negotiation, Anna’s heart started racing. For a few moments, she thought it was anxiety. She wondered if it was regret, and so soon too.

Then, unbidden, a smile kept trying to creep across her lips.

It was a half-formed plan, and potentially stupid. She might never work things out with Elsa and lose everything in the process.

But it was her plan, her decision.

She’d spent so long living with decisions made for her, about her. Her choices might mean taking painful responsibility for them later, but the threat failed to override the intoxicating lure of the choice itself.

And although Elsa had never tried to make sure Anna understood her decisions, Anna would ensure she didn’t fall into that same trap. Even before she got to her room that night, she was already penning the letter in her head. One last letter, as unexpected as the first one Elsa had sent to her, all those years ago.