a/n: a little idea that popped up over the winter break.

enjoy.

Wishing for Winter;

Anna wished for winter; so she got Elsa.

The ball was as lively and loud as it could be. Anna loved the atmosphere, practically breathed it into her lungs like it was air.

The large room that was arguably the size of their courtyard hustled with people of differing status. There were commoners and farmers, servants and royals, all dressed to impress her family.

Anna didn't mind the attention they received. They were all nice and pleasant to talk to, like the princess of Corona.

She had accepted a few dances from the sons of dukes and kings; even those of lower and middle classes who had the courage to ask her despite the quivers on their lips and the jitters on their hands. They all had kind smiles and warm arms, gentle voices and patient eyes; Anna couldn't deny she was enjoying the ball.

It was when she would wander off to the sidelines and listen to the other princesses and maids speak of wistful romances and special moments in chilly winds of winter that would dampen Anna's mood.

"Winter is just so, romantic!" One royal dressed in pink and white sighed, almost as if entranced at the mere thought. Hands clasped together against her chest, auburn eyes gazing at nothing at the corner of the ballroom.

"Oh I know, especially when a prince approaches you and asks if you're cold." Another garbed similarly to the dreamy-eyed princess said in acknowledgement, brown eyes sparkling like the stars that would paint the sky with light at night.

"Oh yes!" One of her maids – Gertrude, was it? – nodded wistfully as if a thought of a past love in winter brushed over her mind at that moment.

Anna eyed the group near the food table, the girls' excited glees loud enough to even put snorting pigs to shame in a barn. She remembered similar snippets of conversations like this in the past, occurring at every ball her family threw, or of meetings that required attendances of royal families to gather together in one room.

The girls would always gush about winter, whether they were of royalty or of common blood. Whether it was about romance, or of plain fun. Anna was envious.

"What's it like?" Anna stood amidst the crowd of bright smiles and colorful gowns. "What's winter like?" She clarified, coughing behind a small hand as she made herself present within their giggling circle.

The girls merely gasped as if told that the princes present were all taken, and clamored away at Anna's eardrums as if they weren't being loud enough already.

"Y-you've never experienced snow?" The princess in pink and white had her eyes almost bulging out of their sockets, the sight startling Anna that she nearly spat her drink of red wine. She didn't know whether it was out of laughter or fear.

"Oh you poor dear," the other princess said as if pity lined her lips. Anna wouldn't be surprised if it were true. "That's a travesty all on its own."

"Winter is beautiful," the maid, Gertrude, whispered almost inaudibly that Anna wondered if she was actually telling her or if there was a past conversation she shared that kept her eyes cloudy and opaque. "And there's no other season better for romance,"

"It's unfortunate that Arendelle never snows," the condescending princess stated as if the fact wasn't obvious enough.

Anna, deep down, thought so too. The seasons only ever switched between spring and summer. She wouldn't count fall because it spanned a mere month or two.

She cleared her throat again, playing with the edges of her wine glass, and excused herself so the feeling of envy wouldn't accumulate any further.

/

Anna had rummaged through her wardrobe – it was just so large and all she wanted was a pair of pyjamas – for almost fifteen minutes, that she had nearly given up altogether until she attempted to close the closet amidst the pool of rainbow dresses.

There it was.

Grabbing the pair of polka dots off the top of the pile, Anna slipped out of her green gown and threw it gracelessly amongst the rest of the dresses lying haphazardly in her room. She bounded for the balcony attached near her bedside table once she buttoned up the top of her pjs, tripping over various other items like makeup kits and blankets strewn across the floor – she was in such a hurry for the ball that she never realized how much of a mess she made just to look appropriate for the occasion – and pulled back the doors to see the summer night sky.

Stars blinked amidst the sea of midnight blue, a shade that mirrored her father's favourite uniform. She rested her elbows on the white railings, and gazed out at the courtyard, the gates open and spilling out with colorful people from the ball.

She could hear the light chatter below, guards and servants talking amongst themselves, bidding the remaining guests farewell. Anna recognized the pair of princesses walking towards the gates in their fancy colorful gowns, their conversations of winter flowing back in her mind.

Ever since she was a child, she only ever looked at boxes and carriages that carried ice, only ever looked at them – most of the time – from afar because father told her they were important for trade. The closest she got was a mere touch of her fingertips gliding across the cold, clear, slippery surface. It no doubt looked cool to touch, but other than the initial curiosity, she didn't care much for ice.

Then she came upon books that spoke of snow in her father's library, paired with pictures – in black and white, unfortunately – that helped bring images in her mind's eye about the concept of winter. Most of the details were fuzzy and the advanced language – big words – were not yet in her vocabulary at the age of eleven, but the pictures and the smaller, more simpler terms like ice and snow, cold and cool, soft and white; all were enough to paint images in her mind.

Some books, more for her age than her father's, talked of snow angels and snowmen, and Anna instantly thought of the beach and how she could build castles out of the sand.

Images of winter were all she had and she didn't think she'd need more than that.

Watching the girls disappear past the large wooden gates, Anna looked up towards the mountains, all colored white. She wasn't allowed to venture out of the edges of Arendelle, even if it were for some sort of trip with the ice harvesters. Her parents wouldn't allow it and so did the harvesters – apparently they were already aware of her adventurous personality, courtesy of her parents – and running out on her own to explore was out of the question.

She heard stories where curious wanderers who ventured out too far from the town's borders would either get caught in some avalanche or froze to death being lost around the mountains. Ice harvesters were trained to be able to navigate through the mountains, and knowing that her parents even have them ordered to deny her future requests, seeking them for help was clearly not an option.

Her lips pursed as she slouched against the metal, chin atop its cool white surface, arms lazily hanging over the edge. It wasn't very princess-like, she was sure, but she could name several more incidents where people had enough reason to doubt the status attached to her name.

Turning her head so her left cheek felt cool against the white, Anna stared at the tiny star flickering like the candle in her bedroom. Despite the childish act of wishing for something, Anna figured there was nothing to actually lose.

Standing up so her back was straight, she grasped her hands against her chest, laced her fingers together so they interlocked, and rested her chin atop the joints, eyes shut tight. Images of soft white plagued her mind, the feeling of cool wind brushing against her skin and face embedded into her senses.

She wished for flurries of white, of frost and ice, of the cold chilly air that made cheeks go red and romance to bloom.

Anna wished for winter. Even if it were just for a day.

/

When she awoke, expectations abnormally high, the sun was bright and glaring, the heat scorching and burning. The sky was as clear and blue as yesterday, annoyingly so, that Anna hated it.

Not that she had anything against summer – she loved summer – but having grown up seeing the same dry landscape – other than the occasional rainy seasons – over and over again was, well, dry.

She lived for excitement, for differences, for anything new.

Where was the snow? The freezing air? The ice?

Anna slumped back down on her bed, slapping an arm over her forehead, a dejected sigh escaping pouty lips. She knew better; and she knew that. Not like she should have expected the wish to come true, anyway.

Emerald eyes as green as her ball gown last night stared up at the blank ceiling. It was so white: so, so white. It would've been nice if the landscape were, too.

She blew a stray strand of red hair from her face, still slightly disappointed, however petty it was. Wishes didn't come true from just wishing. Effort was required.

Still would've been nice if it worked, she thought. Petulant.

Getting up so she didn't have to keep the weight of dejection at the forefront of her mind, Anna aimed to distract herself with Joan like she did every morning; a routine she didn't mean to keep.

The picture room was pleasant to be in overall, a cozy atmosphere that no other room provided despite the many faces that plagued the walls; other than her own chamber, of course. Most servants didn't enjoying cleaning that particular room due to feeling as if numerous eyes were watching them. She didn't mind, though. Joan was a great listener.

When her hair was fixed and she was dressed for the day, Anna wandered the large halls, not quite up to skipping toward the picture room or humming along the way. Sometimes she wondered whom from her parents she got this childish disappointment from. She didn't think she'd have a whole hallway to herself and her thoughts as she bounded for a corner. The silence was pleasant.

It didn't occur to her until much later though, when she passed by the kitchen where several maids and the chef himself should be running about preparing meals for the day, that she realized there were an enormous lack of servants roaming around.

If the halls were ever empty, the kitchen would never be. Life bled in the kitchen, food being everyone's favorite topic or pastime. Work hustled like machines with servants as gears and the Head Chef as the switch. It was odd how empty it looked, no matter how long she gazed into the kitchen normally so full of life, scents of various dishes normally wafting into her nose and bleeding out into the halls. Even servants who should be working would casually visit just to take it all in.

Anna closed the door after one last lingering look. The pots and kettles and ovens were all not in use.

Mama and papa had both gone to visit neighboring kingdom Corona for a re-signing of a treaty, so the Council and its advisors should also be wandering the corridors, now that she truly thought about it, pestering her about letters or seeking her opinions on matters related to trade. Despite her knack of being overly energetic or ditzy most of the time, she had intelligence like her mother and assertiveness like her father when it really mattered.

It was becoming worrisome when she turned another corner to find another empty corridor. Where were they?

Her home was never empty. Perhaps lonely, once in a while, especially if her parents weren't around, but never was it ever empty.

The mere thought of being alone lifted the panic that had always been wedged somewhere deep in her heart.

"Did you get a blanket?"

"Yes sir,"

"Then let us hurry. The others may have already provided the rest,"

The increasing sound of shuffling feet frightened her and pushed back down the fear that remained embedded in her chest. She hid around the corner from where she came as the patters of hastened steps came into view, Kai and Gerda hurrying down the corridor. Anna, out of both relief that she wasn't alone and curiosity of why they were in such a rush, followed them. Why did they need a blanket?

Watching them enter the Great Hall, Anna tip-toed her way toward the doors; listened in on the muffled murmurs and chatters on the other side.

There were a lot of them, making it difficult for her to discern what each servant was saying. She wondered if this was something she was not supposed to know about. But the staff was close with her family, serving them for years – before she was even born – so they wouldn't be conspiring against the royal family. Couldn't be. Not with a blanket, anyway.

"How?"

"I'm not sure, sir. The gates have yet to be opened,"

"There does not seem to be any signs of forced entry, either."

"It also does not explain the lack of attire…"

All were rough echoes of various voices: low and deep, soft and gentle, male and female. Anna wondered if it was okay to just barge in uninvited. Would it be rude?

When the voices lowered to a point where nothing was discernible anymore, Anna figured it was all right. She was the princess and this was her home. She should know what happens around this palace.

Anna gently pushed the doors open, poked her head in to see numerous of servants huddled together to form some sort of circle around the center. Many were sharing hushed whispers and discreet gestures amongst themselves that none of them noticed the door creaking.

"Um, is everything all right?" she asked quietly, unsure if she should even be present at all, momentarily doubting her course of action. Did servants hold meetings for themselves?

When everyone turned as if they were caught conspiring after all, surprise and bewilderment etched on their faces, Anna made it her point to know what was going on. She strode toward the mob of maids and man-servants, recognizing that even the Council and advisors were present. And so was the Head Chef.

"Your Highness," they said in trained unison, bowing and curtseying as she made her way to the center, the staff lining up on both sides as they allowed her through.

"What's going on?" she probed gently, unable to see what the ruckus was about with how Kai and Gerda were huddled in the middle of it all, their backs turned.

Murmurs filled her ears like audio plaque at her question, servants sharing hushed whispers amongst themselves as if none of them knew where to begin; huddling together once again near the center of the room like there was a secret to be kept, Kai and Gerda hidden from her view.

Anna's brows narrowed and her lips curved into a frown when no one settled for an answer.

Unable to handle the tense air and tight lips despite the constant chatter of her servants, Anna pushed her way through the crowd, perturbed at how alarmed they looked, as if it were a dreaded secret that was never to be told.

It was when her steps elicited cracks beneath her that Anna understood her servants' distress.

Frost lined the marble floor, weaved in webs of thin strips and disorder as her feet tentatively touched the surface. It was fragile, but slippery.

Ice? She thought, alarmed.

Pools of emerald followed the trail to see it latched onto the walls of the palace, barely touching the ceiling. It was surprising that she had missed such obvious anomalies within the Great Hall.

"Your Highness, it might not be safe for you to be here." Kai, one of the oldest servants to serve the royal family, said as he approached her with soft eyes and kind hands, attempting to usher her back out of the room.

Anna's frowned deepened and only stepped closer for a better look. The ice came from somewhere behind him, seeing as how it only got thicker near the center, where the rest of her servants circled together.

Her eyes held steel, with her voice strong and sharp.

"It's my duty as a princess to know what's going on within Arendelle, especially if it has something to do with my own home."

Other than looking dejected, with a protest just barely hanging off the tips of his lips, Kai kept silent, moving aside when Anna gestured so.

"Ma'am, just please, don't get too close. It might be dangerous," his warning barely registered in her head as she took in the sight of platinum blonde curled inside the same blue blanket she had spotted Kai and Gerda running off with moments earlier.

Almost hesitantly, as if feeling fearful for potentially ruining the silence, she knelt down beside Gerda who was tending to the woman, watched her tighten the sheet around the blonde stranger who was soundless on the frozen floor. Strips of frost stretched out beneath her in crooked patterns, a web of ice isolating her form as if she was the source. Anna had an inkling she was.

"She is cold, your Highness." Gerda's words kept her attentive as she watched the maid lift the blanket so it'd reach the woman's chin. "Very cold,"

"Is she asleep?" Anna asked, reaching out instinctively to brush away strands of blonde from the woman's face, not realizing her various servants had gasped in protest, Kai going so far as to grip her forearm, pulling fast that she nearly fell back. The woman's skin had been soft but cold to touch. She was freezing.

Anna didn't think her frown could get any deeper as she turned her head to look at Kai, confused by the worry that embedded his face.

"Kai, why did you –"

"She had frozen a maid's hand, your Highness."

Her eyes widened at the thought and looked at her fingers that still tingled of the cold. One. Two. Three beats pass before Anna popped the question everyone didn't know the answer to.

"Then why isn't my hand freezing?"

Kai still looked startled at her question, hurriedly kneeling down to inspect her hand like the frost would cover her skin any second. Four. Five. Six beats of silence before Anna tilted her head to smile at Kai, voice reassuring. Nothing happened.

"I'm okay, Kai. See?"

A few more seconds passed before he acknowledged her statement, a disapproving frown still lining his lips.

"I – I see, ma'am."

She took his hand and cradled it, rubbing her thumb across crinkled skin from time and work.

"Is she all right?" Anna asked, worry etched on soft features that naturally carried over for her servants. They were all basically family.

Kai nodded, tugging their hands and squeezing them together. She had always been such a soft princess.

"Yes, ma'am. We took her to the nurse moments ago; she said she'll be okay."

"Good," she said, relieved, moving closer so she was beside Gerda again.

Silence reigned once more as they all stared at the woman before them, stuck between wanting to help, yet fearing for potential harm that could still come.

Anna, just as impulsively as the first time, did she brush away the locks of blonde from the woman's face, curt intakes of air vaguely registering in her head from the rest of her servants that watched. She curled it behind an ear to see pale cheeks and long lashes that fell like curtains over her eyes as she slept, peace evident from the loose skin between her brows and the lack of tight lips.

She was very beautiful.

No one questioned why no harm came to the princess.

Gerda sent a patient gaze her way, "What should we do, your Highness?"

The princess' eyes lingered momentarily at the woman's face, before her response was given with a tone her father shares during debates where confidence and finality were necessary to strengthen his point. He would be proud once he got home as soon as the servants spoke of it.

"Take her to a guest chamber, and make sure she is warm and cared for. Supply her with things she needs; food, clothes – anything. We are to treat her like any other guest," Anna stood and observed her staff: loyal and obedient, responsible and dependent. She knew she could count on them. The princess smiled, "And that is with kindness."

Their smiles in return strengthened her trust in them. Not that it could get any larger than it already was.

Once the servants and maids have led the woman away, carried the stranger with utmost care that Anna approved of, the princess watched them leave until the doors shut and she was left alone within the Great Hall. Thinking.

Anna had known as soon as she saw the ice.

She had expected white and snow, and frost and the cold. Expected ice like the one that covered the floors and walls of the room, fingers taking in the coolness of frozen water as she glided her hand across the slippery surface of the ground.

Anna inspected the ice that the woman once laid upon. Eyed the image of a large snowflake that had stretched beneath her.

She expected winter, even if the mere thought had been silly.

Though not in the form of a girl.

01.13.14