Anna awoke slowly, groaning as shafts of light streamed through a break in her curtains and fell across her face. She tossed and turned for a moment, torn between burying her head back under her comforters and returning to the blissful land of sleep or actually rousing herself. Reason eventually won over luxury and she thrashed about fighting the sheets tangled around her legs until her feet alighted on the cold wooden floor and she shivered. Mornings were never and would never be her thing. Let her sister be the early bird, Anna was happy sleeping till noon or until Kai's insistent knocking became too much to shut out. Moving sluggishly over to the curtains, Anna braced herself and threw them open with a clatter of iron rings sliding across their support shaft, lances of pain shooting into her eyes as a hearty burst of sunlight flooded the room.

"Oh sun, you are an abomination sometimes," Anna groused, blinking until her eyes fully adjusted. She was dismayed to find that the sun had barely risen past the horizon, the sky still aglow with soft pink and purple fire. Glancing back at the clock atop her dresser, she groaned again. "Oh for the love of God, it's only seven in the morning!?"

Mood slowly darkening, Anna turned towards her closet, saw the dress hanging from the mannequin, and felt her heart sink, anger forgotten.

Oh, that's right. Today's the anniversary.

August 25th would have been a normal day for any other kingdom. People would rise from their beds and go about their daily duties completely unaware that Arendelle was slowly being shrouded in black and the royal banners and flags pulled to half-mast. The date marred the calendar like a black spot on a pristine piece of parchment. Today marked the four year anniversary of the late king and queen's death at sea.

Anna slowly walked over to the dress and ran her fingers against the smooth fabric of the black bodice embroidered with scrawling designs in silver thread. A short sleeved dusted gray underdress accompanied the bodice, thin as gossamer, and a matching black skirt completed the outfit, silver embroidery worked into the hem. Anna could almost feel the sadness rolling from the dress like it had been crafted and stitched from tears. This wasn't a happy gown meant to catch the eye or dazzle a crowd. This was a gown meant to mourn in, and she hated it.

Tearing her gaze away from the black dress, she let the glow of the rising sun warm her face for a few minutes before her courage returned and the young princess was able to pull the dress on with shaking fingers. Her hair came next, but it was a simple affair. Two braids over either shoulder, tied off with black ribbon to complete her outfit. Anna looked at herself in the tall mirror next to her bed, a vision of loveliness in black, and sighed. Today was not a good day. She slipped out of her room and was about to head to the kitchens when a thought suddenly stopped her in her tracks.

This is the first anniversary I've had with Elsa.

How had she forgotten? It had been a year since the Great Freeze, and the royal sisters had been quickly reestablishing and mending their bond at a blinding pace. It was like thirteen years of self-imposed isolation had never happened. Sure, Elsa still had some quarks and ticks she needed to work through on her own and Anna sometimes didn't help matters with her overeager attitude, but the young princess was forever by her sister's side helping where she could or being a shoulder to cry on when she couldn't. But today…today…

Anna turned sharply around and walked to the end of the hall where a large white, green and purple door waited for her. Elsa had taken up residence in their parent's old room, out of tradition more than necessity. It was only fitting that the ruling monarch live in the royal suite, but the young queen had been hesitant to leave the comfort and familiarity of her old room for a room she claimed was filled with ghosts. The transition had been jarring, and for the first few few nights Elsa had slept restlessly, nightmare plaguing her almost every time she dropped off to sleep. More than once Anna was awoken by the sound of distant screaming and raced into Elsa's new room only to find it dusted in frost and the young queen huddled in a ball at the foot of her bed, shaking with silent tears. It had been Anna's idea that she sleep with her sister until she became familiar with her new quarters, and that seemed to do it. Elsa finally calmed down after a few nights and eased into her surroundings as best she could, eventually coming to like the extra space and the massive triangular window that allowed her an unimpeded view of the castle courtyard.

The young princess halted in front of the imposing door and raised her hand to knock but froze, uninvited and unfriendly memories flooding back. How many times had she knocked on her sister's old door and it remained shut? Enough times to leave permanent knuckle marks in the treated wood. But that was the past, it wasn't her present or future, but the fear was still there; the fear of rejection and isolation, of being turned away with three harsh words or met with impenetrable silence. It was irrational, Anna knew, but she just couldn't shake it. So to combat her fear she did the only other thing that came to mind. She knocked, and sent a silent prayer skyward that she wasn't wrong. When no answer came Anna felt her heart sinking. Maybe things hadn't changed as much as she'd hoped.

When the door gently swung open on her second attempt at gaining entrance, Anna quickly poked her head in and scanned the room but was surprised to find it empty. The curtains had been drawn back allowing the sun to light the room naturally, and it looked as though the bed had been made. There was no sign of the young queen anywhere and Anna felt a wave of relief wash over her. Elsa wasn't ignoring her or shutting her out, she just wasn't there.

The past is in the past.

Still, it was disheartening to find her sister's room empty, and the young princess felt her somber mood returning. Slowly shutting the door behind her and making sure the latch clicked into place, Anna made her way towards the kitchens, her footsteps barely registering in her mind. She past a few maids and servants, all of them wearing identical black uniforms with the same somber look on their faces Anna saw every year. They said nothing to the princess as she passed, only offering the customary curtsy or bow. Even the castle guards were in black, those not in armor wearing black jackets with silver buttons, black hats, and black pants, and those in armor wearing a black padded jacket and a black helm. Anna felt like she was suffocating in a sea of silence and monochromatic clothing as she reached the kitchen and shouldered through the door.

"Good morning, Princess Anna," Gerda said cheerily, breaking the mournful mood into a thousand pieces. Anna felt her face slide into a smile and sank into one of the chairs arranged around a small table before the second biggest hearth. The room was hot, almost stifling, with all three hearths burning low fires as food simmer and cooked. Anna could smell the rich scent of baking bread and chopped herbs and breathed deep. There was nothing more comforting than the smell of baked goods.

"Would you like something to eat?" Gerda asked as she busied herself with arranging a tray of dough that would later become sweet rolls served at dinner. Anna opened her mouth to answer but Gerda continued speaking, not noticing that the young princess was about to replay. "Her Majesty was in here this morning but wasn't hungry. I'm sure you don't want what I made your sister, its cold now, but I would be happy to fix you something."

Anna felt her face fall, gray mood returning, and realized she wasn't as hungry as she previously thought. In fact, the idea of consuming anything made her nauseous. "No, thank you, I'm not hungry either."

Gerda looked up from her fussing, flower and bits of dough splashed across her work apron, and seemed to notice the young princess's attire for the first time and gasped. "Oh heavens, is it…is it here already?"

Anna nodded silently, her throat uncharacteristically dry, and stared at her hands clasped together on the table in front of her. "It's been four years since…"

Gerda set her tray down and came over to Anna, dropping next to the princess. "Oh Anna, I'm so sorry." The servant matron pulled the young princess into a hug, all royal preamble and proper manners going out the window. Gerda had been a part of the royal sister's life since birth, caring for them when their parents couldn't. After the king and queen's death, the servant matron had become like a second mother to Anna, helping her through her grief and loneliness, and the two had grown exceptionally close over the years. Anna fought to be strong, to keep her emotions in check like Elsa always seemed to be able to do, but cracked after only a few moments and sank into Gerda's embrace, feeling tears starting to well in her eyes.

"I miss them, Gerda," she whispered, her voice starting to break as tears streamed down her face. It surprised Anna how quickly the pain of her parents death could come flooding back after four years. Wasn't she supposed to have moved on and put this behind her? The answer seemed to be no as she began to cry in earnest.

"Oh my sweet princess, I miss them too," Gerda said rocking Anna back and forth. She hummed a gentle lullaby she'd sung to the sisters as infants, stroking Anna's soft strawberry blond hair and shushing her. Eventually the sadness passed and Anna pulled back slightly, whipping the tears from her eyes and sniffling.

"Thank you, Gerda. I don't know how I'd have gotten through this without you."

Gerda made a soft scoffing noise and stood, arranging the young princess's braids back over her slender shoulders. "You are stronger than you think, princess. I was just there to comfort. You were the one who overcame your grief."

"I still cry sometimes," Anna said sheepishly, color rising into her already pink cheeks.

"But that's only natural. See, grief is a nasty thing that can do horrible things to people. It can turn them ugly or angry or scared. It can tear people apart and turn them to dust. But the strong can master their grief and soldier on no matter the pain. That's what you did, Anna. You pushed on and conquered your grief by refusing to let it tear you down. You made a life for yourself and have been happy. That's what makes you strong," Gerda said with a wide smile. Anna felt a smile touch her lips and a small portion of her grief lifted away.

That's what makes Elsa so strong, Anna thought, she conquered her grief a long time ago and moved on with her life.

The sudden thought of her sister made Anna straighten in her chair. "Gerda, do you know where my sister went after she left here?"

Gerda looked up at the ceiling trying to remember, "I believe she said she was going to the Overlook, but that was before dawn."

"She's been up since before dawn?" Anna gaped. Leave it to Elsa to chase the sunrise.

"I believe so, though if I might be so bold, it didn't look like your sister slept much last night."

Anna scrambled out of her chair and nearly knocked it over in her haste. Before Gerda could say another word, the young princess gave her a quick hug and was racing towards the back of the castle where the thirty foot perimeter wall ran the length of the kingdom along the cliff face. A few guards called to her as she ran past, but this was a familiar route for the princess and they watched her go with only mild curiosity. Up the winding parapets she climbed, legs pumping as the incline slowly began to increase. It took Anna roughly twenty minutes to reach the third watch tower, one of thirteen slender spear shaped towers that made up the barrier wall separating the castle and the Arendelle kingdom from the rest of the northern wilds. Gasping for breath, Anna leaned against the cool sand colored stones, sweat trickling down her face and making her itch as small rivulets rolled down her back.

"I think…I made…good time," she said gulping in great lungfuls of moist morning air. Usually when she visited the Overlook she wasn't climbing the perimeter wall at a dead run. Heartbeat finally leveling off at a somewhat normal rhythm, Anna pushed away from the wall and headed towards the tower door. As usual the heavy wooden door was unlocked and Anna took the narrow winding stairs down to ground level three at a time, successfully startling the gate guard on the other side of the door as she burst through.

"Highness?" The young guard called as Anna raced past him, nearly slipping on the dew slick grass. She gave him a half-hearted wave, already climbing the steep rise that would eventually level off in another two hundred yards at the top of a sheer cliff known as the Overlook.

Scant vegetation grew this high along the western cliffs of Arendelle, only small clusters of lonely looking pine trees breaking the horizon line. There was plenty of green grass, the moist summers giving the weed plenty of nutrients to flourish, but few flowers could weather the strong winds that whipped in off the fjord. In some places higher up, the wind was strong enough to rip even the grass from the soil, scouring the land like a brillo pad and leaving only gray rock in its place. Anna skirted these patches of exposed rock, following the well-worn trail left behind by hundreds of feet traveling the same path year after year. A burst of wind buffeted the young princess as she climbed, tugging at her dress with strong fingers and whipping her braids in front of her face like thrashing tails. Anna leaned into the gust and powered through, goosebumps rising as the cool breeze touched the sweat glistening on her exposed skin.

Finally the incline began to level off and Anna stepped onto the first piece of flat ground since leaving the castle. Another breeze pushed at her, but she let it swirl around her, breathing in the scent of salt water and pine wood. When she opened her eyes she had an unimpeded view of the fjord and the sea beyond it, the shallow water of the fjord glittering like turquoise before bleeding into the rich dark sapphire blue of the open ocean. Off in the distance she could see the black specks of ships moving around on the water like ants on a shifting blue curtain. Above some of the vessels glided the twirling shapes of sea gulls, swooping and diving as they hovered above fishing ships in hopes of an easy meal. It was a breathtaking sight, and the beauty was not lost on the princess. She remained still for a few moments just drinking in the majesty before turning away and heading to the right at a slight angle towards the two stone monoliths that marked her parents grave.

It was customary for those lost at sea to be metaphorically buried under large tombstones, and the tradition had not been lost on the late king and queen. Their granite monoliths had been painstakingly hauled up the cliffs by two hundred workers and carved on sight with ancient runes designed to protect the lost souls from permanent wandering in the afterlife. It was an old pagan tradition, one that Anna had thought died away when the Church reformed the religion of her kingdom long before her birth, but it seemed there were some things even the bishops would overlook.

Anna followed a second winding dirt path that took her up another small incline before leveling off once more at the Overlook. She caught sight of the top of the monoliths as she climbed and felt a fresh wave of sadness wash over her. It was never easy seeing those cold gray stones rising out of the earth like fingers of some massive earth troll, even if the sunrise was breathtaking and bathed the Overlook in scarlet and yellow light. Anna had expected to find the grave site vacant, but as she neared, the monoliths directly in front of her with the rising sun behind her, she was surprised to see two figures standing between the stones. The young princess raised a hand in greeting, not wanting to be rude or startle whoever was there, and felt her body freeze instead, her world tilting to one side.

It was his stance she noticed first, that calm easy way her father used to carry himself around the castle when not being the ruling monarch. She could have recognized his silhouette a mile away, his back still ramrod straight but his shoulders set softly allowing the rest of his body to ease into a relaxed familiarity. His eyes followed her as she came to a standstill, brow set in gentle expression of love and openness, a small smile pulling at the corner of his lips. He was wearing the same dress coat he'd worn when boarding the ship, medals and braids of state pinned across the chest and shoulders. The king right hand was reaching for her while his left was….

Anna felt fresh tears fall from her eyes and nearly went to her knees. Her mother stood beside her husband, a warm expression happiness radiating from her delicate face. She to wore the same dress she'd worn while boarding the ship, her hair tied back in the customary braided bun that all queens of Arendelle wore out of respect for the past. Her left hand clutched the locket she worse at all times with tiny painted pictures of Elsa and Anna inside while her left arm intertwined with her husbands, their fingers laced together.

The young princess didn't realize she'd started running towards the two figures until she was nearly on top of the monolith. She was crying, that much Anna could tell, large tears sliding free only to be pulled away by the breeze. Reason was screaming at her that this was wrong, something wasn't right, but the only thing dominating the young princess's mind was the desperate need to feel her mother and father's warm embrace. Reality finally caught up with her, swooping back like a hawk diving after a mouse and putting such a heavy weight in Anna's stomach she felt like he could have broken through the cliff stone and fallen into the sea. Her parent's skin was a little to shinny and smooth, their features almost glowing in the light of the rising sun. It was upon this realization that Anna noticed two things. One was the crumpled form of her older sister prostrated at the feet of the late king, and two was the heart wrenching sound of Elsa's desperate sobs.

Anna slowed to a standstill, body and mind to frozen to do anything more than stare. The ice sculptures were gorgeous, and the likeness to the late king and queen was astonishing. Anna could see every jewel facet and every cloth fold. She could see the tiny details on her father's buttons, the individual hairs of his mustache, and even see the light dusting of freckles on her mother's heart shaped face. They were both so lifelike and full of warmth and love it was hard to come to grips with the fact that they were entirely ice.

"Please," Anna heard Elsa whispering three of four times in quick succession, "father please forgive me. Forgive me. I wasn't…s-strong enough. I wasn't…I couldn't c-conceal it anymore. Please…"

"Oh, Elsa…" Anna whispered hand over her mouth.

The young queen started at the sound of her name and spun. She raised a hand to shield her eyes from the glare of the sun, her bright cerulean blue eyes and platinum blond hair glowing in the golden light of dawn. Anna shifted so her shadow fell over her sister, and Elsa's hand dropped.

"Anna…I…I didn't—"

"You made these," Anna asked stepping closer until she was directly behind her sister. The young queen sat up straighter, still on her knees in the dirt, and put her hands in her lap, emotions of guilt and anguish flashing across her face. Unable to trust her voice, Elsa only nodded, her shoulders slumping as grief replaced shock.

"Elsa, they're…they're…God they're beautiful," Anna whispered and felt wetness pooling in the corner of her eyes. Beautiful was such a plain word that hardly described how incredible the ice statues were. Anna didn't think there was a single word in any language that could accurately describe how real and lifelike the edifices seemed, so she settled on just staring in wondrous awe. After a moment the young princess looked down at her older sister and was dismayed to see what she was crying again, silent tears rolling down her already pink cheeks. Anna slipped next to her and put an arm around her shoulders, squeezing tight.

At first it seemed like Elsa would pull away. Her body tensed like a spring when Anna drew her close, but after a few heartbeats the young queen seemed to melt and fell against her younger sister, heavy sobs wracking her slender frame.

"I never got a chance to say goodbye," Elsa hiccupped against the smooth skin of Anna's neck. Then more quietly she confessed, "I was too scared to come out of my room…I didn't know what my power would do, I couldn't control it. I wanted to come with you, I know you needed me as much as I needed you, but I just couldn't get up the courage to open my door." If the young queen intended to say more she was unable, her voice swallowed by more tears and heavy sobs.

Anna understood in that moment while holding her sister that she'd been wrong about Elsa. Her sister hadn't mastered her grief, she'd just been better at hiding it, and that realization rocked her to her core. Suddenly Elsa wasn't the impenetrable ice queen or the depthless lockbox of emotion. She was as human as Anna, felt the same crushing grief as Anna did, cried as heavily as Anna did, and the young princess loved her sister all the more for her vulnerability.

So the two sat together at the feet of their ice parents, holding one another as wave after wave of grief and sadness worked through their bodies. It wasn't until the sun was very nearly over head that the royal sisters finally stood on shaky feet, dusting themselves off as best they could. Standing side-by-side, a gentle wind rolling over the two and drying their tears, Anna realized with a start that her sister wasn't wearing mourning cloths. Unlike the rest of the kingdom, the young queen wasn't wearing black. Her dress and bodice were simple, both the same soft ice blue with little decoration or embroidery. Her hair, disheveled as it was, was set in her customary loose braid complete with snowflake charms. Elsa seemed to sense Anna's eyes on her and smiled wanly.

"I always hated mourning clothes."

Anna looked down at her own dress and sighed, "Agreed. Let's make it a royal decree that no one's allowed to wear black on the anniversary." She was half joking and was shocked when her sister nodded in agreement.

"I'll write up the decree this evening. No more mourning on August 25th. This should be a day of celebration, not one for tears and grieving. We've done enough of that."

Anna felt a flush of heat warm her chest and pulled her sister close again, holding her as tight as she could. "I love you, Elsa. So, so much."

"And I love you, Anna," Elsa replied squeezing back. The two separated eventually and turned back to the statues, watching the sun wink and flash across the glass smooth surface.

"You really did a wonderful job making these," Anna said. Elsa smiled her first genuine smile that day and flicked her wrist ever so slightly towards the monoliths. A flurry of ice magic raced up the statues of the late king and queen, bursting above the gray stones in a shower of snow and twinkling ice crystals. A small cloud formed much like Olaf's personal flurry, raining gentle flakes of near translucent snow onto the statues.

"Now they're permanent," Elsa said as her hand fell to her side. Anna smiled and laced the fingers of her right hand with her sister's left.

"Father and mother are looking down on us, and," Anna paused trying to find the right words to say, "and I know they're both proud of you despite everything. We're all proud of you."

Elsa didn't reply, just pulled Anna close, comforted by her close proximity and warmth. There were still tears to be shed and so much more healing to be done, but at this moment standing with Anna at the Overlook while the ice statues of their parents gazed out over the fjord, silent protectors of a realm they left to quickly, the young queen was content and the storm within was quiet.