Chapter Text





It whispers a promise in the cool, crisp winds from the north mountain, sweeping to kiss the valley of Arendelle. It fogs its breath against the warmth of the castle’s windows, tracing its fingers in tendrils of frost on the glass. It silently stills the rivers and fountains, settles peaceably onto rooftops in a smooth, perfect blanket. Queen Elsa touches her window’s reflection in greeting to her old friend. Winter has finally come home.

Although Elsa doesn’t experience temperature (at least, she thinks, not in the same way as other people seem to) she does sense the hot and cold in other ways- in summer, the heat is oppressive, sucking the energy out of her like a vampire, leaving her drained. Winter, by contrast, is gentle and familiar, demanding nothing, providing comfortable equilibrium between herself and the environment. She wishes others could feel it as she did, curling in her bones as a cat curls on a pillow.

While the seasonal change is a welcome one, it comes with new queenly duties to perform, most prominently the organization and attendance to the kingdom’s yearly winter solstice celebration. While her younger sister gets to prance around in the thickening snow, Elsa must stay inside and oversee the preparations: there are menus, entertainment, and decorations to approve, invitations to send, and of course the obligatory speech to the citizens. She can hardly get a moment to relax without an attendant or two seeking her opinion or permission on one thing or another. Which color accent would Her Majesty prefer on her dress? What song should the choir sing at the opening? As for the appetizers, seafood or meat? Was this order of dances pleasing to Her Majesty? Elsa ends up relegating the majority of the planning to her advisors. The avalanche of questions makes her feel like a frazzled mother of thousands, trying too hard to answer every needy child seeking her approval.

But there is at least one needy child she is willing to indulge: the little girl inside who is sick of this stressful nonsense and thinks it’s about time she went outside to build a snowman.

In the snow-glazed royal gardens, Elsa’s handiwork is interrupted by a high whistle. Anna, fully decked in her snow-gear, has finally found her, and she is thoroughly impressed by the tiny army of snowpeople her sister just created. “Elsa, wow!” she exclaims, making her way over. Elsa has outdone herself, even creating tiny little ice structures for the snow people to interact with. On closer inspection, Anna realizes it is a miniature version of their castle. She squats down to observe the little people. “Aw, they’re so cu-- oh. Oh. Ouch.”

On closer inspection she realizes some of them are walking headfirst into walls, others are falling off of rooftops like lemmings or running into each other, snowballing into larger, multilegged creatures.

“Um, Elsa... some of these guys are kinda... goofy. It’s okay though-” she adds quickly, picking one up in her glove, “-- I think it gives them character.”

“...Yeeeeah,” Elsa sighs, stroking her braid uneasily as she observes her strange creations. A light snowfall drifts down from the sky. Near Elsa, it swirls gently around her person, invisibly stirred.

Anna crunches through the powdery snow to stand beside her sister. She looks at the queen, then glances back down at the locomotively-challenged snowpeople, who are getting more strangely dismembered and mutated by the second. This macabre display is rather concerning.

“Hey Elsa...” she starts, forcing a tentative smile, “Everything ok? You seem kind of... stressed out.”

“It’s just a little overwhelming, sometimes,” Elsa says, looking at her hands. “I know it’s selfish, but I miss when Mama and Papa handled everything. I don’t feel ready for this yet. Everyone has so much faith in me, but...” She trails off, smiling bitterly. “How can I be the queen Arendelle deserves if I get this worked up over planning a festival?”

Anna reaches a gloved hand to cover her sister’s bare bare fingers, clasping them reassuringly.

“Don’t be so hard on yourself. It’s going to be fine! And if it’s not, just blame it all on me. Everyone knows I’m really good at ruining big parties,” Anna assures her. Elsa gives her a half-hearted smile. Anna smiles back. “Really, though... what’s there to worry about? I thought you had ironed it all out.”

“I’ll be expected to dance.”

Anna feels foolish for not realizing the issue. Elsa gets anxious around large groups of people. Old anxieties die hard, she supposes, and her sister is still unused to being touched by strangers, even in formal settings.

“Well, uh... that’s never been an issue before, has it? It’s not as if anyone can make you dance if you don’t want to.” Unless someone told Elsa there was a spider on her, Anna thinks, but that’s her little secret. “You’re the queen, you know? If you hate dancing so much, you could make a decree and ban it or whatever! Go mad with power! Whoo!” she exclaims. In her enthusiasm, she accidentally kicks off a spire of the tiny ice castle. It flies up high, then plummets down and impales a tiny snow person. Anna winces. “Ooh... sorry.”

Elsa, who seems too distracted to have noticed the incident, wrings her hands and says nothing. An idea dawns upon her younger sister. “Elsa... do you want to dance?” Anna asks.

“I... I haven’t really had much practice.” Her older sister purses her lips. “For the few events I’ve attended, I’ve always stood on the side and watched. I didn’t think I had a choice. But--” She glances at Anna, lost, vulnerable, seeking assurance. “I don’t want to be that person anymore. I want to show our people I can be more involved, more approachable, more friendly. Like you are,” she adds, squeezing Anna’s glove.

“O-oh!” Startled at the absurd idea of her elegant, gorgeous, perfect big sister aspiring to emulate her, Anna shrugs and gives a flustered laugh. “You want to be more like me? Oh Elsa... be careful what you wish for,” she says loftily, but her cheeks glow with the unexpected praise. She feels suddenly emboldened. “But all right! If you insist-“ she proclaims, stepping close to pull Elsa towards her and to rest her other glove the older girl’s waist.





Elsa laughs nervously at the sudden and unexpected approach. “Wait, uh- what are we doing?” she asks.

Anna tilts her head at the silly question. “Isn’t it obvious? I’m going to teach you how to dance! Now, put your hand here,” she instructs gently, moving her sister’s hand to her shoulder. “Now we hold our other hands like this--- ok? And just follow me. One, two, three, one, two three--”

“Oof--!” Elsa grunts. She wearily glances down at her trodden foot, protected only by a fragile ice slipper, then shifts her gaze to her sister’s thick, heavy winter boots. “I’m feeling a little vulnerable here,” she says in mock accusation.

“Sorry, sorry!” Anna says guiltily, shifting her feet. “I’m not used to leading! I’ll be more careful, I promise.” She is, and soon they find their waltz rhythm, Anna counting the beats for guidance. Elsa is a fast learner, and within minutes she keeps up easily, glancing down now and then to ensure she won’t trample any of her tiny, mutated snow people. Her creations mostly manage to scramble out of the way, some of them sitting on miniature ice roofs to watch the towering royals dance.

Elsa slowly feels herself relaxing to the predictable, comfortable synchronization of their steps. The snow flurry from earlier calms to a very mild precipitation; the delicate snowflakes seem to hover rather than fall. Some of them pepper Anna’s coppery hair, and the cold air brings an attractive blush to her freckled cheeks, Elsa notes with a private smile. Anna’s eyes look greener without Arendelle’s grassy knolls to compete with them. Winter always seems to emphasize the natural color and beauty of everything it touches, Elsa thinks, and her sister is no exception.

As Elsa watches, Anna’s lips tug into a smirk. “You’re a natural, Elsa.” The compliment puffs in the frigid air, dissipating between them.

“Hm? I... oh, thank you,” Elsa responds, taken off guard. Her face softens. “It’s easy because it’s with you.”

“I-Is that so? Well... let me know if you need me to step on your other foot, then!” Anna says, full of false bluster, and Elsa laughs. It’s good to see her genuinely smile again, Anna thinks. All these unexpected compliments are giving her a fluttering tickle, like butterflies. She is reminded of their first real meeting in forever, at her sister’s coronation. She makes a mental promise to herself: this time, she will ensure everything goes perfectly for Elsa. After completely ruining the last ball, she owes her sister that much.

Elsa’s smile fades; she still seems preoccupied with some worry. “It won’t be the same dancing with strange men,” she sighs finally. “There’s going to be at least twice as many guests as last time. And especially now that my secret is out, the nobility from every neighboring kingdom are jostling to win my favor in any way they can. I’m nothing but an asset to them... or a threat to be neutralized.”

Anna stops her feet, suddenly serious. “What, you think... someone will try to hurt you?” Her jaw clenches at the thought. Her grip on Elsa tightens.

“The thought has crossed my mind, yes,” Elsa says. Her mouth thins into a stern line. “If anyone tries anything, they’ll have to face security. And, well, me.”

“And me! If anyone dares--“ Anna’s eyes glow with a fierce green anger. “I’ll... I’ll...”

Elsa can’t help but be heartened by her sister’s reaction. “Beat them to a pulp with a lute?” she asks. Her smile comes easy. She’s rarely seen her sister get so angry. There’s something enthralling about it.

Anna punches her gloved hands together. “No way! This punishment deserves a full-blown guitar!”

Her fury is quieted by the gentle pressure of Elsa’s hands in her own. “I appreciate your enthusiasm, but let’s hope that won’t be necessary. It would be a shame to waste a perfectly good guitar.” Anna huffs, sending her bangs fluttering. Elsa privately finds the gesture adorable.

“I’m honestly not too concerned about that! I can defend myself if I have to. And yes,” Elsa continues as her sister opens her mouth to interject, “I know that you’d rescue me even if I couldn’t.”

“I don’t understand, then. If you’re not worried about someone, uh... killing you, what are you worried about?”

The queen’s smile fades. “Like I said, royals from all corners of the kingdom will be visiting. Mostly harmless dignitaries, envoys... and I’ll have to dance with all of them.”

“You’re a great dancer, Elsa, I’ve been trying to tell you--”

“Anna!” Elsa pulls away. She wrings her hands: looks at them, winces, holds them up. “I’ll have to dance with all of them,” she repeats. “Don’t you get it? I’ll have to touch them. It’s one thing to stab someone with an icicle if they’re trying to kill me, but what if I jab someone when they’re just trying to waltz?”

Anna grins. “You haven’t jabbed me. Not once! Not this whole time!”

Turning to show Anna her shoulders, Elsa hugs her arms to her chest. “It’s different with you. If we could dance alone together, just us, I’d be fine. Excuse me.” She gifts her sister a distracted smile and hurries along the garden path back toward the castle, following the hopeful call of servant.

Anna watches her go, tapping her chin thoughtfully.