Anna had grown out of her easily wake-able state by the time she was ten years old. Now, she could sleep through the apocalypse. She did have more difficulty falling to sleep on this particular night; that fight with Elsa really did a number on her psyche. She was not sure whom she was angrier with: Elsa, for refusing to answer her again, or herself for blurting out the most hurtful thing she could think of without realizing it.

She did not hate her sister. In fact, it was quite the opposite. She had loved her sister since her infant eyes first saw the blonde. She was just frustrated that her sister apparently did not feel the same. Those days when they were so close continuously played through her mind, reminding her of the good times and also bitterly pointing out that things could never be the same.

She did not want Elsa to hate her, but she realized that screaming her own hatred for Elsa (though it was not true) might have completely destroyed any chance she had of reconciling with her.

After she had flung herself onto her bed, Anna tossed and turned as these thoughts ravaged her mind. Eventually, she managed to cry herself into a fitful sleep, hoping that she would be able to make amends in the morning.

The trouble with being such a deep sleeper, and refusing to wake up any time before ten o'clock, is that an early riser will always beat one to the chase. Anna was still completely out of it as the door to her bedroom quietly squeaked open. Elsa had years to master moving around on the old wooden floors without making a sound, and she employed that skill as she snuck further into her sister's room.

She headed immediately to the window, and carefully drew the curtains back just far enough for a narrow beam of sunlight to flow into the room. Then, she did something she thought she would never do: she took her gloves off despite the close proximity to Anna. She drew a deep, calming breath, and began to work her magic as she had practiced. A hair-thin strand of ice crept down from the top of the window, and once it reached the desired length, it stopped. Then, with a gentle wave of her hand, a larger piece of ice formed at the end of the string. With perfect precision, Elsa formed the ice into an intricate snowflake – her snowflake, to be exact. She then formed another string, and another snowflake at its end. This one, instead of the sharp, angular forms that defined Elsa's special fractal, had looser curls and twists, resembling a flower more than a snowflake. Elsa smiled when she finished it: it was Anna's. With one final motion, the crystalline ice solidified and froze, becoming magical, permanent ice so as not to melt. Then, she quickly replaced her gloves.

Finally, Elsa reached into her pocket and pulled out a neatly folded note. She placed it on the bench underneath the window with the utmost care before turning to leave. She froze as she past the bed. She was already pushing it simply by being in the room, but she knew she would never get another chance like this. Slowly, and hesitantly, she walked over to the bed where Anna was sleeping. She frowned when she saw her younger sister's troubled face, but she knew that there was something she could do.

With the most care yet, she leaned down and kissed her sister's forehead. Before she pulled back, she whispered gently, "I love you, Anna." She then retreated, not before noticing a small smile growing on her sister's face.

She left the room and silently closed the door, before turning to face her parents, who had been watching the whole thing. "I'm so proud of you, Elsa," her mother whispered through tears.

"We both are," the King added, discreetly wiping away his own tears.

She did not say anything at first. She merely folded her hands in front of her and nodded with regality a seventeen-year-old should not even be capable of. But then she smiled her first real smile in years. "I…I was wondering if I could join you for breakfast this morning," she said sheepishly.

The King and Queen were made so immensely happy by the request that they almost did not respond. But eventually, Adgar managed to say, "We would love that, Elsa."

Anna was eventually stirred from her sleep by light flowing onto her face. She groaned in annoyance, and muttered something about making sure the curtains were closed properly the next time she went to bed. She rolled over, away from the window, and opened one eye slowly. As her vision cleared, she noticed something was different about this light. She was looking at a fleck of light blue, instead of the yellow beam of sun she was expecting. She opened her other eye, and noticed more colours dancing around the bed and floor.

She followed the lights with her eyes, and eventually looked over at the window. There were two very shiny objects dangling in front of the glass, and from where she was on the bed, she could not quite make out what they were. But, for some reason unknown to her, she could only think of one thing: Elsa.

She hopped out of bed and made her way over to the discovery. As she drew closer, she realized that the objects were crystal light catchers – shaped like snowflakes. They were two very different, yet two very beautiful, snowflakes, and suddenly the thought came back again, this time strong enough for her to mutter, "Elsa."

Her eyes then fell on a piece of parchment folded with such neatness that she did not even need to read the beautiful calligraphy spelling out "Anna" for her to know where it came from. She reached for it, and delicately unfolded it as if she was afraid that it would disintegrate in her hands. She read the short message carefully, and allowed the tears to fall when they did:

Dear Anna,

I just wanted to say how sorry I am. I know being separated has been hard for you, and believe me: it has been hard for me, too. I wish I could easily explain why it has had to be this way, but I cannot. I just wanted you to know that I do not hate you. I love you more than you can possibly know, Anna. And everything I have ever done has been for you.

I'm going to try and be brave for you, Anna. I'm going to try and see you more. I don't want to be alone any more than you do, but there will be times when I must. Please don't think it is because I do not wish to see you. In reality, it will most likely be those times that I will want to see you the most. But it just cannot be. Please try to understand.

I had these snowflakes made for us, Anna. You probably don't remember this, because you were so young, but one night you were really scared of a "monster" under your bed. (It was, in reality, just some scary shadows from the window.) I got rid of the monster by showing you what I learned in my science lesson the day before: that glass prisms can catch light and change it into different colours. I used a prism to turn the monster into rainbow light, and you were so happy… These snowflakes will do the same thing, Anna. Whenever you are scared, or lonely, just remember that they will make you happy…and that they will chase away the monsters.

Remember that I love you, Anna. I always will.

Elsa

Anna cried softly as she re-read the letter several times, taking in every bit of emotion her sister had managed to express in her writing. She felt even worse now about saying what she did, but at the same time, she was immensely happy to read her sister's words. She looked back up at the crystal snowflakes, and felt her heart warm.

In a flurry of movement, she raced to her closet and got ready for the day. She decided to go quickly down to breakfast, and then race to her sister's door to thank her. She hurried down the corridors, practically skipping the whole way to the dining hall.

She was unaware of the surprise awaiting her on the other side of the door – a surprise that would make receiving the snowflakes the second happiest thing to happen to her that day.

Alright, well that's all, folks! Thank you all for reading and reviewing. And don't worry: I have plenty more planned. Until next time!