Note: This fic was inspired by the song If I Go by Ella Eyre. It basically played on repeat for like two months and I won't admit to how many times I teared up thinking about sisters while listening to it bc that'd be embarrassing.
Note: I envisioned this as a prequel of sorts to Rebbe's Winter Once Again (you can find it on AO3). She's given me her permission to say so, and I can only hope to have done her idea justice and with a fraction of her exquisite language and writing.

It's a normal day, a blissfully ordinary day - the new kind that is their life now, with open gates, and open arms, and open love that Anna still isn't used to.

Three whole days have passed since she's read under the tree in the gardens - which, granted, isn't a very long time, but when it'd once been a part of her daily routine, three days felt like a week.

Before, Anna had all day every day to fill, so she did so with lessons and walks, reading, eating and exploring the castle she already knew like the back of her hand. But she liked to pepper in more wild activities that complemented her restless nature: Sunday picnics on the balcony, Mondays and Wednesdays with horseback riding, Wednesdays for tree climbing and swordfighting, Friday nights stargazing on the roof. The schedule gave her life structure; things she could anticipate when there was nothing at all to look forward to for years on end. So Anna set her sights lower and focused on smaller goals and kept the big dreams (freedom, love) locked away in her heart for the future that one day might happen. Anna bided her time until that future came. She needed that routine to keep going; it was all that held her together for so long.

But time seems different now, longer and shorter at the same time, with days packed to the brim filled with new things to do and places to explore. There are a million things to do outside of the castle, and Anna loves each and every one of them. People to meet, things to eat, streets to discover, marketplaces, people, the bakery - did she mention the people? - all of wonderful Arendelle keeps her busy.

But better than the marketplace or the people is coming back to the castle; where the windows are open and Elsa could be walking somewhere between meetings and they get to look at each other and smile. Where Anna can fall into step and walk with her for a while. Where Elsa might fill her in on a meeting and ask for her opinion, or Anna might tell Elsa about her latest discovery. Sometimes they don't even speak at all, because it's enough that Elsa is beside her and not behind a door. With their hands intertwined or walking steps apart, they're together not separate and that's all that matters. Being with Elsa was always the biggest magic of all.

It's as if she's gone back in time and moved forward all at once, but Anna doesn't mind it one bit. But she does miss parts of her old routine, so for now, it's time for reading a new book in the garden.

At least until a servant runs up to her, interrupting a particularly interesting pirate chase.

"Your Highness!" they exclaim breathlessly. "Please, you must come with me at once!"

Well this is a first, Anna thinks, her forehead creasing with confusion. When have they ever come to her before? But before she can even ask, the servant adds something that makes her blood run cold:

"There's something wrong with Her Majesty."

Anna runs.

Pleasepleasepleasepleaseplease

Anna prays as she sprints up the stairs and down the corridor.

Pleasepleasepleaseplease, I've only just gotten her back.

It's been two weeks - it's only been two weeks, Anna thinks desperately. Two weeks since ice skating in the courtyard, when the whole world seemed lighter than a snowflake and the future was wide in front of them.

Few crops were permanently damaged; magical ice, it seems, merely covered rather than killed anything growing underneath, and with Elsa's thaw, something warmer than before had come over the kingdom. Two weeks had barely passed and nothing had really been damaged, but restitutions were being made nonetheless. Anna had yet to meet an unsavory or unfriendly person in town, and neither had Elsa during the open court sessions she'd instituted for grievances and petitions. The people love her just as Anna knew they would; just as Elsa deserves.

Anna skids as she makes a sharp turn around the corner and grabs it for leverage.

A thousand images flash through her mind anyway, each more horrible than the one before - Elsa collapsed on the floor, Elsa attacked, Elsa hurt, Elsa fallen ill - the servant's words pounding and echoing in her head like a drum.

The door is closed, but Anna bursts it open.

Something's wrong, something's wrong, something's wrong

"Elsa!" she cries out in alarm.

Anna stands in the doorway, body tense as her eyes scan the room frantically for her sister, looking on the floor for signs of Elsa crumpled somewhere and bleeding.

But the window is whole, no panes are shattered from an arrow or rock. No furniture is upturned or strewn about. In fact, the room is much the same as it was yesterday when Anna last saw it. A neat pile of documents sits in the middle of the desk under a paperweight, quills lined up at the top next to the royal seal. The bed is made, neatly as usual, the proper order of pillows stacked from back to front with a redheaded doll at the head. A book and glasses are placed neatly on the bedside table.

Nothing is amiss.

Except for the fact that Elsa's nowhere to be found.

A pop from the hearth draws Anna's attention and she twists in alarm to face the fireplace.

"I thought it would help."

"Elsa!" Anna shouts at the sight of her sister, pacing in front of the fireplace and wringing what looks like a handkerchief. She's okay.

Her body floods with relief at the sight of her sister, unharmed and whole. Anna throws herself forward, desperate to feel Elsa in her arms, to have something solid to chase away the images in her head. "Oh, Elsa, I was so worried."

But Elsa doesn't respond; her body is tense. Coiled. Her shoulders are high and her breathing is uneven.

Anna pulls back slowly, carefully, trying not to jostle the delicate thing she suddenly realizes she's holding. She remembers this Elsa; she faced against her in a swirl of wind and snow on a mountaintop sanctum, chased her through the castle and across the fjords.

Gently, Anna cups Elsa's cheek, angling her head to check for injury or hurt, lifting her arms, inspecting for the slightest mark. There's nothing. "What did you think would help?"

"The fire," Elsa chokes, curled into herself. "I was feeling so cold."

From this distance, so very close to red and puffy eyes, Anna thinks she can see back in time, to the little girl that used to live here alone and scared. Anna doesn't know the last time she'd seen Elsa like this. It must have been before….well, it must have been Before. "Elsa?" she asks."What's wrong?"

Elsa purses her lips tightly as her face slowly caves in. She grits her jaw, releases a shaky breath, and shakes her head, breaking from Anna's gaze.

Her hands keep clenching and unclenching, playing with a loose piece of fabric in her fingers. "I don't know," she whimpers. "I don't know what's wrong."

"What happened?

Elsa explodes with a desperate, raw urgency, and Anna thinks of snow whirling and wind howling, and remembers ice piercing her chest. Something cold pinches inside her at the sight of her sister like this. "I don't know! Nothing! Nothing happened, nothing at all! But I'm still…" There's something about the way Elsa looks frantically around as if there's an answer hovering in the air, words for the nameless things she's searching for.

Part of this seems familiar, the animalistic fear Anna remembers from that night, when Elsa was at the edge of the world and she still took a step, desperate and panicky, needing something more, something else.

"I can't-" she tries again, before the words are gone once more.

Anna's intimately familiar with this inability to verbalize, this frustrated garbling, but she's never ever seen it on Elsa before, as it escalates into a high-pitched panic and steals her poised, calm, even sister from her.

"It's okay," Anna reassures, "you're fine, it's okay."

Elsa jerks at the apparent misstep. "No!" she yells, pleading. "No, Anna, don't you see? I can't do this."

"What do you mean, why not?"

"Everything is wonderful! The gates are open, you're here, I have you, so why do I still feel this way if everything is better? I know how to control my powers, so why do I still feel like this inside?" Elsa claws at her chest. "Something is still wrong with me, I'm still broken."

Anna feels the words as a slap and sits stunned for a moment before softening in heartbreak. "Oh Elsa," she breathes, "you're not broken."

She gathers the pieces of Elsa close even as something in herself shatters at the same time.

"How?" Elsa cracks desperately, crying, "How can you say that?"

"Because you're my sister and I've known you my whole life. You're not broken, you never were."

"Yes! Yes I am! I'm broken, I-"

"Elsa-"

"No! You don't-" Elsa breaks off, grasping her head in frustration and tries again. "Some days, Anna, I used to wake up and wish I hadn't. Days that strung together and seemed like they would never end. And if it's still happening now? When things are so good? That means its not my magic, Anna, that means it's me."

She looks over at Anna with a haunted, desperate look. "I'm not the same Elsa I was. She's gone now, don't you see?"

"It's okay!" she replies brightly, "I'm not the same Anna, either."

Elsa barks a dark laugh, "Anna, you've always been you. Even after everything, you're still the same."

"So are you!"

"No, I'm-"

"In all the ways that matter, you're still you. And look, I want to get to know this Elsa too! She presses to match Elsa's stubborn idiocy."You're my sister and I want to get to know you."

Elsa actually stops for a moment, biting her lip. Looking into her sister's haunted eyes, Anna can see the fear that still gnaws. It tears under Elsa's skin: What if you don't like what you see? Will you still want me like this?

"I love you," Anna says, cupping her sister's face and holding it tightly. "I'll still love you," Anna says, talking to all the Elsas that ever were and will be; the one who stayed up and read to her as she fell asleep, the one behind the doors, the one who stays sad for days, the one that's up too late and rises too early, and the one who laughs with her and Kristoff at breakfast, "All of you. I need you, Elsa, all of you."

Anna reaches for Elsa's hand to lace her fingers through and hold tight, but something is in the way. The glove comes away easily. It's wrinkled and the fingertips are worn and Elsa won't meet her eyes.

"But-" she protests, and Anna shushes her.

"You can't use these anymore, Elsa. You're not broken. You never were. You're just feeling. You have to let yourself feel."

Anna lays the gloves on the chaise and scoops up one of Elsa's hands. "Y'know, there's a reason why I was so active all the time." She tucks a loose strand of hair back behind Elsa's ear and remembers. She remembers being so angry she thought she'd punch the suits of armor. Angry for being on her own, for being ignored, for not being able to go outside, for growing up without Elsa.

"Because the second I plopped down spent on the floor, everything was gone. All the anger, all the sadness, whatever I was feeling, it would just... flow out of me. I mean, don't get me wrong, it could be really fun sometimes, too, but. It also let me channel my feelings into doing something with them. I'd dance until I fell down. I'd climb the roofs and ride the horses, run until I was breathless. Afterwards, I always felt better. Everything inside had gone. Maybe...maybe you need that, too. Maybe your magic can help you feel."

Anna smiles at the innocent childlike way Elsa stares at her quizzically.

"Here," Anna says, taking Elsa's hand and cupping it palm-up in her own. "Try it. Just a little, instead of all at once. Do the magic."

Despite herself, the corners of Elsa's mouth twitches up. For a moment, the queen is gone, and instead all there is is a little girl - good and innocent and determined. Holding out her palm, Elsa licks her lips and stares intently at her hand. There's something both hard and soft in the way she concentrates, and for a moment, Anna aches at the possibility of them having lived a different life. Of them learning together instead of apart. Of saving Elsa from everything. Anna swallows and focuses on what's real; what's in front of her. Her sister needs her.

The magic starts off as it always did; light slowly shimmering until little snowflakes dance in her palm. Elsa holds them there, sucks her breath in, and looks over at Anna, beaming back with pride and love.

Confidence swelling now, Elsa puffs a little snowflake into existence in her hand and extinguishes it a moment later; snowflakes bursting and expunging as fast as they come.

In. Out. In. Out. Ebbing and swelling; Anna watches Elsa's breathing even out with the magic. Their hair is coated with a light dusting and tiny snowflakes still flutter around them. They sit in silence for a moment, sitting side by side, Anna's head leaning on Elsa's shoulder.

"I knew you could do it. Better?"

Elsa nods in exhaustion; softly, gently, like the sea ebbing into the shore.

"You don't have to hold it in anymore, y'know," Anna says. "So don't be dumb and try. We don't need a blizzard every decade, okay?" She teases with a nudge to Elsa's shoulder. "It doesn't mean you're losing control, it doesn't mean your magic is going to explode, it doesn't mean you're broken. It just means you're feeling." Seeing Elsa opening her mouth to protest, Anna barrels onward and continues, "And whenever you need to go, whenever you have these days, you can go. You need to feel them, Elsa. And I'll be (we'll all be) right here when you get back."

"But-"

"Nope."

"Anna," Elsa scolds in a mothering, slightly exasperated tone, and at the sound of it, Anna breathes in relief, knowing if Elsa can do that, then at least for today, the crisis has passed.

"What?" she says innocently. "It's not like I didn't learn the same stuff you did, y'know. The kingdom will be fine for a few hours." Elsa blushes in shame and ducks her head, embarrassed. "That's not what I-"

"I know," says Anna seriously. "I know it's not what you meant, I just...don't want you to worry, okay? You and me, we've got this. We're a team, now, remember? You don't have to do it all yourself anymore. Let me help."

Elsa bites her lip and Anna can see her throat quiver a few times before she finally nods. "Okay."

Anna brightens "Okay?"

"Yeah. I think….okay."

Anna beams, basking in her triumph.

"You up for going out for a walk or something? Or not quite yet."

Elsa just snuggles further into Anna. "Can we just...stay here for a while?"

"Of course! We can stay as long as you want," Anna says, kissing Elsa's head as she rests. "I've got all day."

And she does.

Because schedules don't matter when there's substance to her life, and the future has surpassed even her wildest imaginations. Anna has nothing more to dream about because everything she'd ever wished for is resting here in her lap.

Anna runs her fingers through Elsa's hair, across her shoulders and down her back before circling to repeat. Elsa's body isn't tense anymore, though she rests curled up on her side with her hands under her chin, just like she used to.

Anna smiles.

Some things never change.