Snow Sisters, Anna wants to throw Elsa the biggest craziest grandest pre wedding party (not sure if bachelorette parties were a thing back then, so let's call it pre wedding party, hehehehehe :P)

This is absolutely not what you wanted, but it’s kind of counterpunches fault, so blame her.

I was just having a really difficult time with this prompt, and then counterpunches gave me an idea for angst, and now here we are.

So, uh, this sounds like it was supposed to be a really fluffy prompt, and it’s not, and I’m sorry.

WC: 1063

Pairing(s): Snow Sisters, established Kristanna

EDIT: The amazing searlait wrote an incredible continuation to this story, which can be found here!

When Anna bounces into her study, a flurry of skirts and unkempt hair and bright smiles, and proposes her idea of a party before the wedding, with chocolate and roast and mountain hare spiced with juniper berries, Elsa gives her a small smile and nods her head. Anna lets out a squeal of excitement and promptly runs out, a whirling storm of energy.

As Anna’s footsteps fade down the hall, thumps receding, Elsa’s smile slowly diminishes, and she bites her lip and closes her eyes and breathes in through her nose. Her hands are shaking as she grips the quill in her hand, and with tears pricking at her eyes, she signs the agreement that will truly make her marriage official.

.

.

.

His name is Falk. Arvid Falk, Prince of Lapland. His name bears resemblance to Arendellian names because of his mother’s former place in the country, and her adherence to heritage, but both first name and surname were of his father’s choosing; strong like the eagle and the falcon, he says.

Falk is not a bad man.

His words are those of a politician, but they ring with honesty when directed towards Elsa, and he is polite and respectful of her and her station. He has attempted no ridicule of her country, adores what little he’s seen of Anna, and holds only fascination when faced with Elsa’s powers.

He is her betrothed.

Elsa does not love him.

.

.

.

The proposal came six months after their first meeting.

In that space of time, Falk had come to visit Arendelle, and Elsa had gone to visit Lapland. They had exchanged pleasantries, spent several hours on balconies with glasses in hand and books on the table, and they learned of each other, of their countries and siblings and pasts.

Falk’s past was, thankfully, not so agonizing as Elsa’s.

On her visit to Lapland, Elsa had already made up her mind.

When she met the parents, bowed her head, played her role, Elsa knew what she needed, and she knew that they would not pass up such a golden opportunity. They were nice people as well, but they were nice people in power, and their eyes held both warmth and shrewd observation.

Their second eldest, married to a queen? There was no better political play.

.

.

.

She decides to marry Falk after he leaves from his first visit.

It has been five years since Elsa took the mantle of queen and lifted a crown-adorned head for the first time. Five years since she held the scepter and orb in her hands and stood with rigid shoulders before a crowd of unknowing people.

Five years since she reunited with Anna.

Five years since Anna found the love of her life.

It’s the height of summer, two weeks after Falk has left from his first visit, when Elsa stands at her study window and looks out to the gardens below, that she knows, with absolute certainty, what her decision will be.

Because as she watches her sister and her husband play, tackling each other to the ground and laughing uproariously and finally coming to rest on a stone bench, just sitting in quiet with their hands entwined together, Elsa knows her decision.

.

.

.

Anna doesn’t know.

As she alerts the cooks and meets with the planners and prepares the invitations for a kingdom-wide ball to celebrate her sister’s engagement, she doesn’t know.

Anna doesn’t know of the council’s initial refusal to let her marry Kristoff.

Anna doesn’t know of the countless hours Elsa fought, of the nights she never slept as she tore through her law books, of the bags under her eyes hidden with carefully applied make-up.

Anna doesn’t know of the council meeting that declared that Anna could only marry her ice harvester if Elsa agreed to marry for politics.

Anna doesn’t know that Elsa said yes without a second’s hesitation.

Anna doesn’t know, as she vibrates with happiness for her sister, that Elsa does not love the man she is going to marry.

.

.

.

The party is grand.

People from all walks of life are present in the ballroom and the courtyard, from barons to bakers, from duchesses to dock workers, from ladies to ladies-in-waiting, all are welcome to celebrate the engagement of their beloved Queen Elsa of Arendelle.

Anna flits from guest to guest, leaving each one with a smile on their face, but she makes sure to spend most of the evening with her sister.

Elsa herself marvels at the work that must have gone into such a spectacular event, at the carefully arranged tables and the succulent banquet laid out for all and the streamers hung from the ceilings. She laughs as Olaf scares some and befriends others, and rolls her eyes at Sven peeking through the window, and smiles as Kristoff takes Anna by the hand and leads her out onto the dance floor, steps hesitant but accurate after years of practice.

And then the doors of the ballroom open, and Anna is dragging the newest guest right up to Elsa, and she deposits Falk in front of the queen and says a big “Surprise!” and waits expectantly for the proper reaction of a fiancée who was not expecting her betrothed to arrive for another week before the wedding.

So Elsa beams and steps forward and wraps her arms around Falk – around Arvid – and Anna grins proudly and coos at the two lovebirds.

Falk – Arvid, she needs to adjust to that – and Elsa stand together for the rest of the evening, and as they converse, she sees his eyes glow, and she thinks that this man may actually be falling for her, and she winces internally but keeps up her façade. Anna teases the two mercilessly throughout the rest of the evening, lighthearted jokes that betray her sheer joy at seeing her sister finally find someone to love, and Elsa smiles and nods and laughs, and when no one is looking she bites the inside of her cheek and wipes her eyes and reminds herself, over and over again, that Anna can never know.

.

.

.

When at last the party ends and Elsa returns to her chambers, she cries for three hours straight, and the walls of her room frost.

.

.

.

At the wedding, she wears gloves.