Anonymous asked: can you write me some elsanna to cheer me up, i dont mind what you write. i just need my icest to make me happy

Attempts can be made, at least. Hopefully whatever you need cheering up from doesn’t bother you for long.

It was called falling.

For thirteen years, the word could only bring the one thing to mind, playing over and over like the storybooks she used to memorize for Anna’s bedtime.

A backdrop of a happy yip as the mounting terror took center stage and shattered the peaceful setting. Tears that froze and broke away when they dared to cross down to her cheeks. A shock of white blending into a red that lit up the nights brighter than any torch.

Falling, Elsa remembered, every day for what she thought was doomed to be the rest of her life, was only fun when there was someone there to catch you.

Anna had always been the one to fall. Into trouble, into stories, into suits of armor, into heroism so stunning it left her breathless. In her wonderful Anna way, she leapt, luxuriating in the plunge while she waited to see how life would catch her.

Elsa had always been the one to catch her. That left her education a little short in the other half, though not quite as short as she might have preferred. Falling was the lump on the back of her head, or shards of something beautiful flying over her face as it crashed to the floor.

It had never seemed all that appealing.

Anna was the one who enjoyed it, and Anna could keep it.

Only Anna never had been able to resist sharing.

A secret truffle became a feast for two. A perfectly comfy bed turned tantalizingly cozy with someone to hold in it. The sky would wake up, and she would always bring along a guest to join it.

No one else could have provided such a joyful introduction.

It wasn’t the tears or the lumps, it wasn’t the terror or the shattering; it was the snowflakes.

One by one, piece by piece, until the ground was covered in luminous white powder that hid away the rest of the world, forming a brand new one for as far as the eye could see. Taking away all memory of what it was like before. Beautiful and constant, soft to the touch and far beyond the reach of anyone who might try to stop it.

Kept alive through a magic unlike anything that spilled from her fingertips.

Falling in love, it was called.

Elsa couldn’t imagine ever stopping.