almost forgot to update this but hurray i didn't lol. enjoy :)

You wake up early the next morning, hand down your pants. Which is. Well.

Ripping it out, you look over to Elsa's bed. Hopefully, she didn't see you. Hopefully she's still asleep and hopefully you weren't making any noise because that shit's just embarrassing.

But it's not a concern because she's not even there. Her bed is still made – doesn't even look like she came back last night. Everything was how you left it when you went to bed. Reaching over to grab your phone from where it lay charging, you scroll through. No messages, no emails. Nothing from her.

And suddenly you're angry. Your chest burns because this is not what you signed up for.

You're not entirely sure what you did sign up for, but that's beside the point. Sure, it might have been a secret meeting. It might even have been a date. But it's a really shit thing to do, to go on a business trip and then just not keep one's personal assistant up to date. A simple message is all it would have taken, just so you knew the plan.

It means you have no problem – not that you would have – with getting dressed in a nice outfit and calling up the driver to take you somewhere. You ask him to go "somewhere historical", and within half an hour you're at Akershus Fortress, a huge, amazing castle that, apparently, had not only been a fortress, but also a military base, a prison, and the temporary seat of the Prime Minister.

Even better, the admission is free. You pull out the camera Kristoff had loaned you and take loads of snaps. You're not really that well-versed in architecture and history and shit, but you still can't help but be in awe of this place.

There's some guided tours, in English, so you sign up because you've always felt more comfortable in crowds. Also, you find yourself really loving the Norwegian accent.

It's a young woman who shows you and about twenty other tourists around. She point out the buildings, and talks about their purpose. There are signposts with all this information, but it's nice hearing it from a real person. Makes it seem more real.

The best part, at least to you, is that there's no place that is impassable. You'd gone on little holidays around the US, and almost always, there was a place you couldn't go because it wasn't wheelchair accessible. Not here; even if there are stairs hundreds of years old, the've put ramps and stuff on it so you can still move about.

It is hard work though. Seemed the old Norwegians didn't believe in flat surfaces.

Still, you enjoy it, learning about this history and spending some time alone. Elsa's allowed to, so why shouldn't you?

It takes a few hours to see everything, which is perfect because it's not even midday yet, so you should be able to find somewhere nice to eat. Of course, you stop off at the gift-shop. You buy a keychain for Kristoff, which seems a little stupid but you know he's going to like it.

Except then you second-guess yourself, so you buy him a small statue of the castle, too, just because it's cute and memorable. They even wrap it up in thick butchers' paper to protect it.

You put it safely in your bag and begin making your way towards the road. Once you call the driver, it doesn't take long for him to get to you. And maybe you shouldn't be using him as your own personal chauffeur, but you're pretty sure he's being paid by the day and not by the amount of fuel you use, so you don't feel bad at all.

Elsa's still not back when you arrive, but you're not quite as bitter about it before. You're not gonna let it affect you because you had a nice day and took some nice pictures. You go and get ready for whatever meeting you have, but given that she isn't back yet, you decide to lie down and have a nap.

Of course, it doesn't quite work the way you wanted it to because as soon as your head hits the pillow, you're worrying about things that mean you can't actually nod off.

You still have lots of emails. And Elsa is AWOL and you should definitely be more concerned about it. It's not like– she's a big girl, she can take care of herself. But, part of being a PA is that she literally pays you to take care of some aspects of her life.

Not that she really lets you, though. You field phone calls and emails, but you don't know her itinerary. You don't know when or where this meeting this afternoon is, and you probably definitely should.

So you sit up and pull your laptop close because you may as well deal with what you can, and that mostly just includes, at the moment, emails. That one from the dude about having her give a presentation is still sitting open, and you, at least, know what to type.

Thank you for your interest in having Ms Arendelle give a speech on- you look back at the email. The use of policy to increase communicative practises in big businesses. Ugh.

Thank you for your interest in having Ms Arendelle give a speech to your employees. Attached is a contract; please sign and date at your leisure. If there are any concerns, don't hesitate to send an email requesting a callback, and one of our HR managers will be in touch.

From the office of Ms Arendelle,

CEO, Arendelle Enterprises.

You're pretty happy with the email, and after attaching the contract – which is nothing more than an interest to enter in an agreement, with the fees and conditions all laid out – you move onto the next email.

You're kind of glad that you took the time to respond to the emails, because it really doesn't take long at all to get through the bulk of them. There are a couple that are harder to deal with on your own, so you pin them to the top to deal with later.

You're just beginning to feel pretty good when the lock turns. Naturally, you turn to look at it, and you're not surprised to see Elsa.

And even though she hadn't returned last night, you're still somewhat taken aback by her appearance. Somehow, she looks even worse than yesterday. Her hair is limp, and her make-up (or whatever little of it remains) is terribly skewed. There's a dark mark on the side of her throat, and you think you have an idea of what it is.

Also, she's still wearing that pale blue, beautiful dress.

She doesn't seem that happy to see you, and why would she be? She's got 'walk of shame' written all over her (even though you've got zero experience with it). You avert your eyes, giving her some privacy – or what little you can afford in this space. She disappears into the bathroom, pausing only enough to get her things.

And, as usual, you're just left with more questions than answers.