The day their parents were buried was grey and cloudy, the sky reflecting the grim nature of what was happening.

Elsa didn't pay attention to that, though. Not now, anyway. There were other things garnering her attention.

Like the way Kai's jaw was stiff, clenched tight. He stood straight backed and proper, as always, the constant pillar of sturdiness, just as he had been for Elsa's whole life. She couldn't remember a time when Kai wasn't around – sensible, and patient, and gently guiding both sisters toward adulthood with a grace and ease that Elsa often envied.

Nothing rattled Kai. Nothing sent him into a frenzy.

But he was rattled now.

He was out of his depth, and Elsa wondered what he was thinking, and if he ever thought he would see this day.

She glanced to the side, fingers twitching closer together.

The two tall stone monoliths were imposing, and they made Elsa nervous, but she stayed where she was, not too close to Anna, but close enough to very slightly ease some of her guilt. Part of her wanted to reach out to touch the stone, as though that might give some closure, some way to impart the words that she never had a chance to say.

She knew the stone would be cold. And it would be cold before she touched it.

She chanced a look at her sister, stomach twisting slightly with a tangled web of emotions. Guilt, always, when she thought of Anna, though in varying degrees. Sadness, at being so very close and at the same time, miles and miles apart. And a heavy melancholy, because Anna should never look like this. Anna should never look small and lost, standing closer to their mother's stone, so alone when all of Arendelle was around her.

Anna stared at the ground, shoulders slumped in weary defeat. She was doing her best to hold back tears, and Elsa could see that. Anna said nothing, had not yet and probably didn't intend to, just stood with her head bowed, looking like the world was weighing her down.

Elsa wanted to reach out to her, to entwine their hands, to let her know it would be okay. Somehow, it would be okay. Somehow, they would manage.

Anna glanced vaguely towards her, looking searchingly for a moment, looking right through her and never meeting her eyes, before dropping her gaze back to the ground at her feet. There was nothing to say. There would not have been anything to say.

Elsa's hands twitched with the urge to pull Anna close, but she stayed quietly where she was, stealing sideways glances at her sister.

I'm sorry, she thought. I'm so, so sorry.

Kai read the eulogy.

Elsa knew why he did, but it still cut deep into her gut, the feeling that I should have been able to do that. I should have had the strength.

She looked at Anna again, watching a single tear roll down one cheek, and the burning urge to reach out and wipe it away nearly overwhelmed her. But she stayed still. She kept her hands to herself, she kept her thoughts to herself, she bit down on her lip to stop herself from doing anything stupid.

Anna looked towards her again, nothing more than a teary flick of her eyes in search of something that could not be found, before heaving a deep, sodden sigh and closing her eyes. It squeezed more tears free, and Elsa felt her own eyes well up at the sight.

We'll be okay, she thought. I promise that.

.

Afterwards, Elsa trailed behind Anna as the younger sister walked very slowly through the empty castle halls. It was strange to see Anna – usually so bubbly and full of life, so real – so subdued and so quiet. Her footsteps were near silent, when Elsa was used to Anna sounding like a herd of elephants.

And when Anna stopped at Elsa's bedroom door, Elsa paused, close enough to reach out and touch her if she wanted. She almost did, hand reaching halfway out, before catching herself, and letting her arm fall back to her side.

This would be a good time to say something. This would be a good time to offer comfort.

This would be a good time to be a better sister.

Elsa opened her mouth to speak, overcome with the need to do so, but before she could, Anna rapped her knuckles gently on the bedroom door.

Elsa fell quiet again.

"Elsa," Anna started, in a thin, grey voice. "Please, I know you're in there. People are asking where you've been. They say have courage, and I'm trying to," Anna's voice grew damp with tears. "I'm right out here for you. Just let me in."

Elsa clasped her hands together in front of her, the gnawing guilt back again.

"We only have each other. It's just you and me. What are we gonna do?" Anna turned, leaning against the door, and slumping down onto the floor. Just a puddle of defeated despair.

Elsa looked away.

"Do you wanna build a snowman?"

.

"Elsa?"

Elsa snapped her head up at the sound of Anna's voice.

"Hey," Anna said carefully. "You okay?"

Elsa wasn't sure how to answer that. She studied Anna carefully, trying to reconcile this image of her sister with the one crumpled on the floor, crying into her knees for hours, against a door that never opened. Anna's expression was faintly concerned, but softly tender, lit by warm evening sun and the reflection of the fjord's gently lapping waves.

Warm, and there, and, after Anna received no answer but spent far too long looking at the devastated expression on Elsa's face, she opened her arms.

Elsa grabbed her tightly, choking back a sob. She clutched at Anna's clothes, wanting to be certain she was really there, she was real, she was fine.

One of Anna's hands rubbed gentle circles on Elsa's back. "Hey. You're okay. Everything's okay. Arendelle is doing fine, I promise. I haven't set the whole town on fire, and not a single person has mentioned the need to overthrow me, so we're all good." Anna's lighthearted, teasing tone – so different, so different from that broken please, I know you're in there – snapped something deep inside Elsa's chest, and she gave in to the feeling and cried.

"And Olaf is keeping everyone happy," Anna continued lightly, moving her hand to stroke soothingly through Elsa's hair. "Kristoff's being Kristoff, and Sven is Sven. Nothing's wrong. Okay?"

Elsa nodded against her, not trusting her voice.

Then Anna's light tone vanished, and became a bit more serious. "Where did you go?"

Ahtohallan, but Anna knew that. And Elsa didn't have the strength to tell her the truth, to tell her exactly where.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, adjusting her grip on Anna. "I'm sorry I wasn't there. I'm sorry you did it all alone. I'm sorry I was such a failure-"

"Stop." It was a gentle command, soft enough not to spiral Elsa further. "Just breathe, okay? Whatever it was, it's over now. The past is in the past, right?"

The past was a ride away across an ocean, and Elsa didn't know how to let it go and let it be.

"I stood at your side," Elsa continued, in a broken sob and shuddering words. "Finally. So you didn't have to do it alone. And I . . . I'm sorry. I shouldn't have gone. I shouldn't have looked. I'm sorry. I just . . . I wanted to be there. I wanted to . . . I wanted to finally be there . . ."

"Okay," Anna said. "That's okay." She gave Elsa a gentle pat on the back. "Come inside, and we can just sit together for a bit, and then when you're ready you can tell me what's bothering you."

Very slowly, Anna drew back, just enough to look at Elsa.

"I'm right here for you, now," Elsa said. "Like you asked."

"I know you are."

"We only have each other, and I-"

"We have so much more than just that," Anna said softly. "You know that."

"I'm sorry." It was a habit, automatic, a burning need to keep apologizing, to keep repenting for the past.

"It's okay," Anna repeated, and Elsa felt herself relax a bit.

It was. It was okay.

They were together now, and they had overcome mountains, and whatever Elsa had missed in the past was forgiven, and the future was full of togetherness.

"Now," Anna pulled Elsa forwards, towards the castle. "Calm down, and let's go inside."

Elsa let herself be pulled. She would go anywhere Anna led.

"Where were you?" Anna asked again, wondering, because it was not often that Elsa returned home looking haunted and lost. Anna looked strong and steady in the face of Elsa's turmoil.

Elsa wiped the last few tears from her face, forcing a smile. Anna, you've always had all the courage you'll ever need. "Where the North wind meets the sea."

.

It occurred to me that Elsa could watch the memory of her parents' funeral, and finally be able to be there, standing at Anna's side. The thought both hurt and gave me peace, so I wrote it down.