7.

Anna drew her cloak tight around her, Marshmallow padding alongside her strides.

"Yeah don't give me that look, Marsh. I know it's weird too, because who arranges a meeting this early in the morning? It's practically still night-time." He barked at a passing rabbit. She shrugged. "The Queen, in case you're wondering. You remember her? She's super nice. And dreamy. And she has like, those super pretty dresses. Made from ice. I know you've met her. Briefly. But you should meet her again. You'd totally be charmed off your pants – I mean, if you had any. Do you want some pants, Marshmallow? I think I can try to make you some. Does it get cold being naked all the time?"

And so on, and so on. She kept blabbing to Marsh, just to fill the silence and ward off the cold. Also because as much as she loathed to admit it, the trek to the stables from the castle could be pretty creepy in the dark, what's with the tall trees and lack of living beings besides them and a passing rabbit and whatnot.

"—and she loves chocolate. I mean you'd imagine someone like her would like something classier, like those duck liver… thing… foy grass? Or something. Fwa. Fwoei. Anyway, I like chocolate too. We both like the ones with nougat inside — I'd let you try some but I heard chocolates kill dogs, so I'm hope you're happy with meat… and hey we're here!"

The stable's light shone bright against the dreary night sky, promising all sorts of good things like beautiful horses, fluffy hay and the very, very warm fireplace in Oaken's quarters. Maybe she could convince Elsa to huddle in front of the fireplace instead of doing whatever Elsa wanted to do. Yep. That'd be a good plan.

"Yoo hoo!"

And like some kind of wonder, the owner of said fireplace was waiting in front of the building, he opened his arms wide and Anna went for the kill, breaking into a run and landing straight in his arms. He squeezed her tight, she squeezed him tight, and they whirled in a circle until she became dizzy.

It was a strange ritual they concocted after a day of bonding over horses, both of which she enjoyed very much.

"Good to see ya, Oaken!" she said, beaming up at him as they parted. "How's the new mother doing?"

"Bluebell? Good good. Very healthy foal ja? Expect to be very fast. Like shooting star. Maybe we name him Shooting Star."

"Awesome! I can't wait to meet him and cuddle him and kiss him and teach him awesome stuff!"

"You will; but for now the Queen is waiting, ja? Let's go inside then we talk, ja?"

"Ja!"

"Good girl." Oaken grinned back, and together they went inside, the strong smell of horses immediately hitting her nostrils. It was a comforting smell for her, but she was a bit worried about Marsh. He'd never set foot near the stables so she wasn't sure how he'd react. She kept her gaze on the ground, trained at him. But it seemed like there was nothing to worry about, because even when a horse neighed loudly nearby, he kept with his stoic doggy stride, walking in front of them like he owned the place. Anna was about to breathe in relief when he decided to take yet another one of him impromptu naps, this time on someone's foot.

Anna didn't need to look up. Only needed to see the icy blue fabric fanned around said feet to know who they belonged to.

"It seems like he's quite fond of me," Elsa said. She gave a small smile, and Anna felt her heart skip a beat. "I apologise for summoning you so early in the day. I trust you slept well?"

"Wow you look like crap today," Anna blurted out. Realising what she'd just said, she immediately clamped her hands above her mouth, looking around to see if any of the horses would be as kind as to maybe rear kick her to death.

None of them were. Oaken was already in a stall, pretending to check on Frey, a white Arabian even as his shoulders shook violently. Then she noticed that Kristoff was there too (but then again it was hard to notice anything else when Elsa was around), uncharacteristically silent in the face of Anna's faux pas. In fact, he wasn't even looking at her, staring at nothing with his arms crossed. He looked about as bad as Elsa did, dark skin under their eyes. They looked… frayed. Like something terrible had happened and they had been up all night thinking about it.

Anna was too busy wondering to correct her outburst and Elsa said, "has anyone ever told you you're too honest for your own good?"

Was she angry? Anna hoped to dear god she wasn't angry. She looked at Elsa's face to see any tell-tale of anger, but trying to gauge Elsa's expression was like trying to cut water. So she decided the best bet is to answer the question first, then apologise. "Yeah; way too many times. I'm sorry I offended you. I didn't mean you look ugly or anything. Just kinda tired. Really tired, actually. Are you and Kristoff okay?"

"I wasn't referring to that. And yes; we're both fine," Elsa said. Her voice had a certain sense of distractedness to it. "Oaken, did you prepare the horses?"

"Ja, this one is here," he said, appearing from the stall, holding Frey's reins with one hand.

He deposited him in front of the stall and went off again, disappearing into another stall and reappearing with a horse Anna hadn't seen before. It stood beside Frey, chestnut hair gleaming in the light.

"Wow, it's beautiful," Anna said, eyes widening. She wanted to stroke his mane, but after sporting a bandage for a week after she had done exactly that to a different horse, well, she'd learned her lesson.

"She," he corrected her. "Trader brought her a week ago. Not a good warhorse, this one. Too calm. You can touch her, too lazy to bite."

Anna was about to do exactly that when Elsa stopped her. "Later, Anna." She nodded at Kristoff and he sighed, grabbing the saddle bags from the floor and promptly went to fix them onto the Andalusian.

Those were big saddle bags, and Anna wondered exactly how long Elsa was planning to ride. She also wondered why Kristoff hadn't spoken to her yet. She couldn't recall doing anything wrong.

"Hey Kristoff? Are you angry at me? Did I do something wrong?"

There was a brief fumble as he fastened a strap but he kept his silence. She decided to wait, not wanting to distract him with inane questions. Finally, with the last of the straps fastened he turned towards her, said, "be safe, okay? I love you," and pulled her into a brief, fierce hug.

Before she can react he'd broken free, striding out from the stables, from her sight. It was an odd parting word. Somewhat final.

"What's wrong with Kristoff?" she asked Elsa. "Did he hit his head on something?"

"Perhaps," Elsa said. Non-committal. Sweeping past Anna, she went to Frey and hooked a foot on the stirrup, mounting him. "Get on the horse. We're already running late."

Running late at five in the morning. Man, today was just getting weirder and weirder. Anna did as she was told. "So uhm. What are we going to do, exactly?"

"A picnic."

She looked down at Marsh, imagining that he shared the same confusion beneath those closed, napping eyes. What.

In the end it didn't take them long at all to reach the 'picnic' spot. Marsh was barely out of breath, even though he'd run behind their horses all the while. Quotation marks, because no proper picnic happens before the sun was even up. Maybe those bulging saddle bags on her horse contained blankets. Anna hoped with all her might they contained blankets, because she was kinda freezing.

They were up on a hill overlooking the port, just slightly outside the city limits. It was a nice enough space, if she could see anything besides the moon and the ocean's inky blackness. Once again she drew her cloak tighter, wrapping her arms around herself.

She took a seat on one of the tree's jutting roots, pulling the tail of her cloak close to her knee. She wasn't sure if her butt would survive contact against the freezing root. Marsh followed suit, sitting close to her. "Isn't it a bit early for a picnic? Like, maybe seven hours too early?" she asked, arm automatically pulling him in closer. Warm dogs were only second to warm pies, in Anna's opinion.

"It's not a picnic."

"Excuse me?"

Elsa barely spared her a glance as she opened one of the bags, ruffling through it to produce a narrow, rectangular box. Using her arm and hip to pinch the box in place, she fastened the bag shut again and turned, heading towards Anna's spot. Anna scooted sideways to offer some of the root for her to sit on, but there was no need to, of course. Elsa had made a stool out of thin air, seating herself on it like it was her throne instead of a makeshift stool in the middle of nowhere.

The regal way she had always carried herself never ceased to amaze Anna. She wondered if it was because of Elsa's upbringing or Elsa herself, because even if Anna was raised to be a Princess or a Queen or whatever, she doubted very much she'd be able to carry herself like Elsa did. Even the simple act of untying a box's ribbon made her look Queenly.

Sometimes she'd daydream about different worlds. Worlds where Elsa was born as a commoner, worlds where she'd been born a Princess. Just worlds where the distance between them wasn't so great, where she'd have the smallest, tiniest chance to be with Elsa, really.

But well, dreams are just that: dreams.

Elsa had finished untying the box. Letting the ribbon fall onto the ground, she offered the box to Anna. "I wanted to give this to you. Open it."

It was a beautiful box, made from some kind of thick, dark brown wood with an ornate grain. Anna slid her fingers through the Arendellian royal symbol on the lid before popping it open, its hinges giving away smoothly. A ring and a single letter lied on the velvet linings.

Confused, she looked at Elsa. "I don't understand?"

"Those are father's."

"Your dad? Why give them to me?"

"Read the letter."

Okaaaay. Now this is getting weird, she thought. Regardless, she obeyed, sliding the letter from underneath the ring. It was tinged with yellow, as if it had been there for a while. Anna, it read above the wax seal. Weird simply didn't cut it anymore. But well, the only way to know just what exactly was happening was to move forward, so she broke the seal, unfurled the parchment, held it under the moonlight, squinted, and read:

Dear Anna, it began.

This will never reach your hands, and if it did, I am truly sorry, for it means something unforeseen would have happened. I sincerely wish it is nothing that bodes ill to you, Anna. I could never be a father to you, but I do love you as a father might, if given the chance. Please believe me when I say I did not send you and your mother away without a heavy burden. Elinda makes for a jealous wife and Queen; a difficult woman made cruel more so after Elsa was born. A bastard's life will not be easy in her courts and even now she is still half-mad with jealousy. Sending you both away is the correct choice, even if it wounds me dearly.

Your mother is bold as she is beautiful, and I do love her greatly. It kills Elinda, I think, to know that her husband had loved another woman like he could not love her. It kills her to know that I will gladly give you and your mother a place in our court, raise you alongside Elsa as her equal. You will like Elsa. She is your sister, three years older than you. Her powers are volatile but she is kind. Too kind to be Queen. I fear that I must temper this kindness out of her, because there is no place for kindness in a Queen. It will be easier for her if you are there to help her rule come the time.

Alas, that is not to be. A Queen's life is fraught with danger and treachery. It is enough that one of my children must bear such a life, I hope that yours is a happy one. Regardless, if by any chance the both of you should meet, it is also my hope that she will treat you with kindness as you, her. You and Elsa will carry my name with honour, of that I am sure.

I am sure of it, which is why I would very much wish to end this this letter here, to part ways with kind thoughts. I do not wish to write, even think of this, but if something happens to Elsa before an heir is born, or if she proves to be an unfit ruler, I have entrusted this letter to my most loyal servant, Kai. This letter will be contained inside a box, along with a ring. My ring. It is the Arendellian tradition to give a ring for each royal child, to prove their legitimacy for the throne. For reasons obvious, I cannot have one made for you. Should anything were to happen, my letter and ring will prove your lineage beyond doubt. I trust you will make the correct choice.

I will always love you, Anna.

Your father, Rasmus.

For a long while, Anna stayed silent, eyes fixed on the letter even as she had finished reading it. Finished reading it twice. Thrice, internalising each words until she'd felt she could recite it by heart. Finally she set it aside, took the ring out of the both. It was dawn then, the beginnings of sunlight bouncing lazily against the metal filigree. The same pattern as the seal wax.

"Anna?"

She cocked her arm, then threw the ring right at Elsa's face.

Maybe it was anger, maybe it was shock, maybe it was just the unfairness of it all, but whatever it was that spurred her to throw the ring, she didn't care. She didn't care if it landed right into the sea or if it clocked Elsa right on the head. Nothing mattered anymore, not when the biggest revelation in her life was thrown right at her face with the subtlety of a knife to her guts.

She felt a prickle in her eyes, vision starting to blur from the tears. Marsh whined, sensing her distress. She stood up, ignoring him. It must've been a moment of madness, because all she wanted to do right then – all she wanted to do was hurt this so-called sister of hers, hurt her just like Anna was hurting. She tensed her calves, felt her lips curl into a snarl. Then, with as much force as she could summon, she launched forward, aiming straight at Elsa. At once they toppled together like two newborn foals, Elsa's back hitting the ground with a loud thud, Anna on top of her, holding her down by the shoulders.

Her shin had hit the stool during her fall, sending a dull ache up her leg. She ignored it, focusing her entire wrath at Elsa and Elsa alone.

"Is this why you've kept me here? All those skirting around, all those deflection and this is why?!"

"Yes," Elsa said simply, staring up at her with those furiously calm eyes. Like Anna's plight and pain meant absolutely nothing to her. "I'm sorry."

"I'm sorry? That's the only you can say after all—after all of this? You whisked me here, kept me in the dark for god knows how many months, suddenly tell me I'm your sister and I'm sorry is all you can say?!" Anna's voice rose into a shriek and even then, Elsa remained impassive.

"Yes."

The world had thrown a lot of Anna, and all those times she had simply lain down, accepting every word, every look, every hand raised with her head bowed. Partly because she was told over and over again that she deserved nothing more, and when you were told something enough times you'd start to believe. Partly because it was nice, believing those words. She had taken them to heart, created her own little barricade of inaction that protected herself against everything that's not her. The letter was a blow against that barrier, cracking it like it had cracked something deep inside her. Stretched to its limit, it finally snapped bringing forth all the things she had kept suppressed for so long.

She reeled her right hand back, then brought it back down, the force of her palm against Elsa's cheek rung loud and hollow.

Her breaths were harsh in her ears: ragged, hitched. It didn't help that she'd started crying too, tears dotting the ground dark, falling on Elsa's upturned cheek. As if her tears had been the catalyst, all the anger she'd felt before was suddenly gone, replaced by the feeling of unadulterated shame. All those years she'd borne with dry eyes and it was now her body had chosen to react?

"Goddamnit," she said, ashamed of her reaction, of having hit Elsa for something that was entirely not her fault. "I'm so so sorry Els, I shouldn't have – I hit you. Oh god—"

She wanted to say more, grovel and beg for forgiveness but she felt warmth on her cheek, Elsa wiping the tears away with her thumb. "It's all right Anna. I don't blame you; I clearly deserve it." Her thumb slid sideways, joined by the rest of her digits as she cupped Anna's cheek, the warmth of her skin flush against Anna's. "Please stop crying. It pains me to see you like this."

"I can't—I can't help it," Anna said between sniffles. "It's just too much right now. Finding out about my dad like this. I've always wondered about him but now… I wish I'd never found out at all. I don't know what to think."

"You don't need to think at all. We both share the same father, there's all to it."

It was seemed like the simplest thing in the world, when Elsa said it like that. She felt the beginning of anger rise again, but promptly buried it deep down. Anger was of no use to her right now; what she needed was. Was what? What did Elsa expect her to do with the information?

"What am I to do?"

"Get off me, perhaps? I would love to discuss this at length with you, but sadly I've lost the feeling of my legs."

Anna looked down. Realised that not only was she straddling the Queen, she had also been crying while straddling her. At least the ridiculousness of the situation had effectively shut her tear ducts down, and she scampered right off Elsa, allowing the blood to once again circulate through Elsa's legs.

"Sorry, I hadn't realised… yeah."

"Don't apologise," Elsa said as she rose, massaging her thighs through the fabric of her dress. "But you've stopped crying, at least, I'm glad."

Averting her gaze, Anna wiped the last of her tears with her sleeve. "I still can't believe we're sisters. If only you'd told me this sooner…"

"It was never the right circumstance," she heard Elsa say. "Now that you know, what do you plan on doing?"

"I dunno. What do you think I'll do?"

"Bring the letter and the ring, show it to the court. Take my throne, perhaps? I think they would be happy to have you as Queen instead of me."

Her gaze snapped right back towards Elsa, her mouth hanging happen. If their position had been ridiculous, then Elsa's words had taken the cake. "What the hell? Why would I do that?"

They locked eyes, and only then had Anna realised Elsa's eyes were not only the same sort of blue as eyes, but the exact same colour. It all made sense now. Everything fell into place with a click, Elsa's odd suggestion, too. Of course. She was the bastard child. A threat to the throne. No wonder it had taken her this long to learn about her heritage. Knowledge is power, Elsa had said. It was a power Anna wanted no part of.

"Do you not want to?"

"I don't," she said firmly. "So if you're afraid I'm after your kingdom, don't."

"Do you really mean that? Don't fear me, Anna. Tell me the truth – I will not do you harm."

"I don't. I might just be a bas—" she tumbled over the word. Tried again. "A bastard, but it doesn't mean you can accuse me of something like that. That really hurts, Els." And it did. It was as if all these months, all the words and silence they shared meant nothing.

Elsa sighed. "I never meant to," she said. "Truthfully, I did have my suspicion. Something… happened, you see, and I was forced to doubt you. I'm glad those doubts are unfounded."

Something happened? That was something too vague for an allegation so serious. "What happened? Tell me."

"You probably don't—"

"I insist."

Elsa didn't immediately answer, brows knitting as she seemed to mull her words. When Anna felt like she couldn't wait anymore, Elsa finally spoke. "I heard wind about a small rebellion forming. Kristoff and I apprehended them and we brought them back to the castle…"

She trailed off, and Anna had to prod again to keep her going. "And?"

"And I interrogated them."

"Okay…"

"They said you were supplying them information about the layouts of the castle. Intimate details, the only kind only very select people should know. Ins and outs that would prove to be very dangerous if it should be used for the wrong purpose. I knew about your penchant for exploration, so it's quite natural—"

"Quite natural MY ASS!" Anna burst out, wishing she had another ring to throw at Elsa's stupid face. "What the hell! And you believed them?! What the hell! Why on earth would I do that?!"

"Please Anna—"

"Oh don't you dare. I thought you were everything a Queen should be, but really you're just so afraid of losing your throne you're willing to use anyone as scapegoat, aren't you? You know what, I'm sick of defending you. They're right; you're just as ruthless and conniving as they say. You're a goddamned piece of work, you know that?"

And if her goal was to hurt Elsa as she'd hurt her, well, she'd succeeded. There was this brief moment where Elsa's face had twisted, distorting her usual placid expression into something else entirely. Anna recognised it as anguish.

"I do. I'm glad you've finally recognised me for who I really am." She smiled, and Anna realised that her smiles never quite reached her eyes. Not even once.

Anna's first reaction was to once again apologise, but frankly she was sick of it. Sick of the see-saw between anger and guilt and anger (and love) like a fool. She felt betrayed, because here was her standing in front of the woman whom she thought she'd loved, only to have her admit that she'd think of Anna as nothing more than a treacherous coward.

"Well? Why don't you just go ahead and execute me like you did to those countless others then? I bet that'd be easy for you – I've heard enough to know the human life means nothing to you."

It was a low, low blow, even for her. But the indignation from feeling betrayed was winning the see-saw and she was determined to let it stay that way. Call it petty, but she felt like she'd earned the right to be angry, just once in her life.

"It would be an easier choice, yes. I won't lie by saying I've never thought of it. Seriously considered it, even." God; so she had thought of it. How could she? "But I won't, because it's not the right thing to do."

"Oh so now you're talking about the right thing? Right after admitting that you want to kill me? Nice, Elsa. Real nice. But hey, you're the Queen. Do whatever you want. God knows I have no say in this."

"You're quite correct. You don't." And even now the smile hadn't left Elsa's face. It was disconcerting, like she'd been talking to a brick wall and this time. "So this is what I'm telling you to do: leave."

Anna's mouth hung open. "Excuse me?"

Elsa went past her, bending down to collect the box and the letter she'd dropped. As Elsa placed the letter inside the box, she dropped the ring she'd been holding and closed the box shut. She then stuffed it back into the saddle bag. "Take Marshmallow with you. I've arranged a passage back to Corona, the ship leaves in half an hour – you'll make it if you hurry. Inside one of the bags you'll find a letter inside to be given to Rapunzel," she said, back towards Anna as she tightened the strap. Unlike Kristoff's fumbling motion, hers were sharp and precise, almost urgent. "She'll take care of you. You won't have to go back to your old life; that I can promise."

What the bloody hell.

Anna couldn't help it – she grabbed Elsa by the shoulder and forced her to turn. This was fast becoming absurd. "Let me get this straight. You bring me here, tell me that I'm your sister, admit to wanting to kill me and then you're throwing me away just like that?"

"Not throwing you away. Sending you away. It's for your own good, believe me." As always, there was no discernible emotion behind her words. But at least the infuriating smile was gone.

"For my own good or for yours? You told me to be honest, now I'm telling you to. Say it straight. Or are you too much of a coward?"

It was goading: pure and simple. It was a cowardly trick, but she was desperate to hear Elsa say it. She desperately needed to be hurt more to finally let go. Because even now, she knew that she'd crawl back to Elsa just with a simple I'm sorry or a I didn't mean it. She was weak like that, so weak.

Elsa's next words made it easy for her.

"You leaving will make life easier for me. Your presence complicates my position, Anna, and I simply don't have time to deal with you anymore."

"…so you'll be happier, with me out of your life?"

"Yes."

"Okay then," Anna said, even as she felt like she was head deep inside water, like drowning. Elsa had made it all too easy. A part of her that had survived being torn to shreds was glad she'd found out this way, before she was in too deep. This heartbreak she could survive – she wasn't sure if she could survive a heartbreak from love that was allowed to fester for more than this. Elsa was right: maybe it was best to amputate it cleanly at the source, after all. Whistling for Marsh, she mounted the horse and gave Elsa a long, last look. "I loved you, you know."

"It's just infatuation," Elsa says in a near whisper. Like she hadn't believed the words she had just said.

"You're right; and I was a fool to believe otherwise. I hope you're happy in your gilded throne; even if you don't deserve to be."

"I will, don't worry."

It was the last words they'd exchanged. Anna spurred her horse, riding down the hill with Marsh behind her.

Back to where she started.

A/N: This chap: sorry, Anna. Next chap: sorry, Elsa.