Author: Little bits of Elsa's life growing up in my AU. Set before chapter one of my fic, Jack Frost. Warning for a scene of attempted assault. The artwork above and on the cover is by Malin Falch. It's how I imagine Elsa at age 15!
...
"Young lady, what's this in your hair?"
The girl of seven pretended to be confused. "Whatever do you mean, Miss?" Her tutor reached into her pale locks and pulled from the tangles an autumn leaf. The girl frowned. "It's my crest of honor."
The older woman looked incredulous. "Your crest of honor? You mean this leaf?"
"To you, it's a leaf. But the fairies in the garden gave it to me for saving their houses from all the rain." She explained, swinging her legs under the table.
"Aren't you a little old to believe in fairies?" The girl didn't answer. "Sit still." Elsa stilled her restless legs. "Upright." She scooted back from her slouched position. "Honestly, you're a princess. These things should be natural by now." Elsa just huffed and went back to reading her history book. She hated her tutor—she was always trying to tell her what to do when she was just supposed to be teaching her things. Elsa didn't like taking orders from anyone. Not even her parents. The teacher eventually took the book away and began to drill her. "Now tell me, what was the War with Sweden?"
Elsa started to braid her hair as she spoke, "It was when Crown Prince—" Her teacher cut her off by slamming her ruler into the table. She was apparently to be perfectly still even when she was giving her the right answer. Elsa didn't want to sit still! She wanted to explore. She let her half-braid hang loose and continued, "It was when Crown Prince Charles John and Tsar Alexander agreed to attack Norway to force us to cede from Denmark." Because they're big meanies. She thought.
"All right?"
"First, Prince Charles invaded Denmark, and because they were outnumbered, the King renounced his claim of Norway and put his army under Swedish command." She recited the words directly as they were on the page.
"And what was this treaty called?"
"Peace of Kiel."
"That's right."
"But how come—"
"Ah, ah! We're not done yet."
"Why do I have to know any of this? I wasn't even born yet!"
"It's important to know the history of your kingdom. Your kids will learn about this too. Now finish." Elsa sighed. "Where did the battle between Sweden and Norway start?"
She had to think for a moment. "The islands of Hvaler. We were outnumbered because the Swedish had help from the British." Cheaters.
"How long did the battle last?"
"Two weeks and five days."
"And who came out the victor?"
"The Swedish. That's why we're called the Kingdom of Sweden and Norway."
Her tutor closed the book. "That'll do for today, Princess."
"Papa says most of his family is from Sweden. He says one of his aunts had really blonde hair like me."
"Is that so? Well, if you ask me, you're a perfect blend of your mother and father's looks."
"I look more like Mama, but if she had blonde hair. That's what Gerda says."
"And Gerda's right." She started to gather the rest of the books on the table. Did this mean they were done?
"Can I go now?" Elsa was eager to go back outside. She loved the cool autumn weather, and it always felt like the season went by too quickly.
"Dismissed."
Elsa practically leaped from her chair, but she didn't even make it a step before she heard the teacher clearing her throat. She didn't push in her chair. Elsa rolled her eyes and shoved the chair to the table before bolting for the library door.
...
"What's that?" Elsa gasped. "Karina's been captured by the evil witch!" Elsa hid among the flowers of the castle garden. "Don't worry, girls! I know what to do!" She took her faithful sword, a stick, and bravely held it up. "Excalibur! Shine your light on the witch's fortress and break the evil spell!" As if she had summoned it, the sunlight poked out from behind the clouds and shined its rays onto the juniper plant. "Now's our chance! Chaaarge!" She, with her army of imaginary fairies, made a leap for the tree, fighting invisible demons. But then a branch got caught on her sleeve. "Oh no! I'm being captured!"
But there was another hero with her. A penguin named Sir Jorgenbjorgen. He peeped out of her dress pocket. "Leave it to me!" She said in a deeper voice, mimicking what he would sound like in her mind.
"Sir Jorgenbjorgen, no! You'll die!"
"A brave warrior goes down fighting!" She tossed the stuffed toy high in the air, pretending he was casting a magic spell to free all the fairies and Elsa herself. She caught him as he came back down.
"Sir Jorgenbjorgen! You saved us all!"
"No, brave knight, we saved them all!"
She held her arms out, "And the kingdom rejoiced!"
Elsa turned around and blanched. One of the oldest servants of the castle, Gerda, had been watching her. Elsa turned red and quickly hid the stick behind her back. "Are you and your fairy friends playing another game?" She humored the princess and came over to gently wipe her dress free of dirt.
"No..." She felt like she'd been caught, but Elsa knew by now that everything she told Gerda was safe with her. Gerda was always there to read her fairytales even after her mother took those books away when she was 'too old' for them. Gerda did a lot of things her parents wouldn't do with her... they were too 'busy.' That's what they would say, anyway. She hoped that she wouldn't be too busy to play with her kids when she was queen. She'd make sure her children came first before anything else so they weren't bored all the time like her.
Gerda smiled a knowing smile and brushed a leaf off of Sir Jorgenbjorgen. "Did you rescue the fairy queen?"
"Yeah." She nodded. "But Sir Jorgenbjorgen helped! He's the best squire ever!"
"Squire? So you're a knight?"
"Yes!"
"But only men can be knights."
"I know..." Elsa lost her grin. "I wish I could be a knight for real."
"But you're something better! You're a princess."
Elsa cringed. "Princesses don't do anything fun!" She took up 'Excalibur' and did some swings. "I'd be the bravest knight there was! I'll ride across the lands and fight all the evil creatures of the forests!"
Gerda giggled and put the stick down. "Well, first, let's go inside for dinner."
Elsa held up her penguin. "Yes! Victory feast! Everyone, to the mead hall!" She went dashing indoors and Gerda followed calmly. She simply adored that child... she wanted to remember her like this before she would be forced to grow up so quickly.
Elsa trotted into the dining hall and leaped into her usual seat. Her mother and father hadn't arrived yet, so she had time to sneak some pre-dinner treats before anyone saw. Right as she got a few lingonberries in her mouth, the door opened and she, with her mouth full, sat straight up as she was expected. The royal handlers let in King Agnarr and Queen Iduna, who took their seats.
Elsa swallowed the fruit and beamed. "Hi Mama, hi Papa."
"Hello, my sweet." Smiled Iduna.
"Your teacher had good words about your lessons today." That surprised the girl mildly, but she just nodded like she'd expected it. "She also said she found a leaf in your hair."
She scowled. "It was my crest of honor–"
"Your Grace." Said Kai, his advisor. He whispered something into Agnarr's ear, and Elsa watched her father's face change. What was more startling was when he stood up. He'd just sat down!
"Iduna, I must go."
"Go?"
Elsa whined, "Why?"
"We've received a missive from Hanover. I'm to respond at once."
"Can't you at least eat with us?" Elsa begged.
"Now, now." Iduna tried to soothe. "I'm sure your father will have time to say good night. For now, let's enjoy our meal." It's not like she had a choice anyway. Elsa lightly kicked her feet as she picked apart her food, indulging in her petulant mood. He always did this; it really shouldn't surprise her at this point, but it still irritated her so much!
If I were queen, I'd make them wait until I finished eating with my family. But she was not queen yet. She was still a little princess.
When they finished dinner and Elsa was permitted to leave the dining hall and have her bath, Iduna noticed something. "Elsa, what on earth happened to your shoes?" Elsa looked down. Her dress shoes, which were once shiny, were covered in dirt. She liked to pretend were actually soldier boots, but these shoes weren't meant for outdoors. Iduna tried to hold back her annoyance, but Elsa could see the light dim in her eyes. "That's another pair you've ruined."
"I can clean them."
Iduna pinched the bridge of her nose. "You shouldn't be outside staining your dresses and shoes. I've told you this."
"I know, Mama."
Her mother waved a hand. "Go have your bath, I'll see if we can get them back into shape."
"Yes, Mama."
...
Gerda sat on the bed and put Elsa's wet hair into a braid. That always seemed to calm the grumpy princess. "Why doesn't Papa even have dinner with us? Does he really have to read dumb letters all day?"
"It's more than that, sweeting. He's making sure the kingdom is always in its best shape. He's always making sure we stay on peaceful terms with neighboring lands and that his people are happy."
"But what about if I'm happy?"
Gerda hung Elsa's braid over the girl's shoulder; her hair was getting long again. They'd cut it back in the summer, but it grew so fast. She thought of what a good answer might be, but went with what she knew to be true. "Your father loves you very much. And your mother. You're the most precious thing to them... and me too." Elsa was suddenly in Gerda's arms and the servant woman lovingly rubbed her back. "Get some sleep. It'll be a new day tomorrow."
She always said that, but Elsa crawled into her blanket with Sir Jorgenbjorgen. She trusted Gerda more than she did her parents, not that they were liars, but they didn't keep their promises like Gerda did.
...
It was when Elsa turned ten that she felt things began to change, and then keep changing.
Normally, she got to leave the castle perimeters once for her birthday, when she'd request she get to go ice skating or sledding outside the gates. This would be her last year, she was told, as now her lessons on court politics would be her sole focus. No more garden adventures, no more wandering the castle, but history lessons, language lessons, speech lessons. Lessons, lessons, lessons!
The only ones she enjoyed were her waltzing classes. Dancing was fun and therapeutic, and she liked to imagine the days where she could host her own balls and people could have as much fun as they wanted. Not some organized nonsense only on special occasions.
No more getting away with bringing in water tracks from playing in the rain puddles; she was to be proper and pristine at all times. She was to have a perfect posture whenever she walked, sat, stood, and slept it seemed! She liked the pretty dresses the maids sewed specially for her, but she never felt like they suited her. They were so tight and confining when she wanted to dance and jump around. She supposed this was her family's way of forcing her to behave accordingly.
Somedays, she didn't want dancing classes or speech practice. She wanted to ride horses and learn how to use a sword, but that wasn't for 'ladies.' She was born in the wrong era; her Viking ancestors would certainly think so. She was probably a shield-maiden in her past life, like Lagertha, married to a valiant warrior king! But in this one, she was Princess Elsa of Arendelle.
It wasn't always a bad thing. Elsa knew to be grateful for all the things she had, even though it was material at best. It didn't replace the lack of social life. Elsa was hitting that age where, though she already spent such little time with them, she wanted to distance herself from her parents and figure out who she was, what she enjoyed. Friends and peers were what she needed during this new journey, but there were none. All the average folk had each other for support and guidance, but here it was only Elsa and her own thoughts. She didn't even have her adventure books anymore—she only got to read literary fiction or historical novels... so boring. She didn't want her novels to end with a wedding, she wanted excitement!
Elsa had never even thought much about her own wedding, for that was a long time from now anyway. She didn't think she'd have much say in whom she married anyway... but as long as he could hold an intelligent conversation, then perhaps it would be doable. Elsa wasn't stuck on what the man looked like, but being betrothed to a handsome man wouldn't be so terrible either.
Right now, Elsa didn't care about boys or romance, and maybe she never would. She spent much of her time concerned about her own changes... her body being one of them.
Over one summer it seemed, Elsa grew taller, and her body was beginning to change its shape... her hips were wider, and her budding breasts continued to elude her whenever she stripped for bath time. Then at eleven, the strangest of all happened when she went to relieve herself and she saw splotches of red on her undergarments. Her mother had explained it to her, but Gerda was the one to teach her how to stay clean and change her linens. Why was it so messy? She'd ruined so many dresses and linen sheets because of her maturing body! It took much time of readjustment to finally get the hang of cleaning up all on her own.
Along with a changing body, Elsa found herself in new company as well. Now she had to sit in on certain council meetings to get a feel for them, but wasn't allowed to speak or say a word. Was this what she had to look forward to when she was queen? It looked dreadful! Hours and hours of just talking about politics and taxes and other boring things Elsa was not yet concerned about. She'd rather be a herald. Elsa was more used to the presence of adults and not kids her own age, and it was infuriating. Surrounded by people and still no one to talk to... except one.
The only consistency Elsa had in her life was Sir Jorgenbjorgen... though she didn't play with him like she used to, her steadfast squire, he was now her confidant and advisor.
"What do you think is out there, Sir Jorgenbjorgen?" She watched the snowfall through the window with her blue penguin. The fjord and mountains were so big... "I bet there are lots of fun people to meet, and lots of things to do... when I'm queen, we'll do all those things together." She said to the inanimate object that had no voice. Even if he didn't actually speak, he was a good listener. Elsa stopped stroking the little strings of hair on his head and got lost in winter.
She loved the snow... it was so beautiful. Winter wasn't her favorite season only because it was her birthday then. She always felt at home in the snow. She couldn't explain it. Everyone would be inside before dark, shivering and complaining about the weather, but not Elsa. She could stay out all night playing in the white. Then she'd go inside so she and Gerda could sneak some hot chocolate. She wished it were her mother and father she had those memories with, even though she loved the aging woman. If only she had siblings, maybe that would've made this easier.
"Did you know Mama was gonna have another baby once?" She whispered to her doll. "Her and Papa tried really hard to give me a little brother or sister. I wasn't supposed to know about this, but I think it was two years ago that Mom got pregnant... but then she got really sick. I remember she lied in bed for a long time, and she cried for days after... She was sad after that, but they didn't tell me why." Elsa grimaced. Sir Jorgenbjorgen wasn't judging her, but listening politely. "I think they didn't tell me what really happened so I wouldn't be sad, but I could've helped Mom. I would've helped make her better." She sighed. "If having children is that hard, then I won't have any." She looked at the view again. Elsa wondered if there was anyone as lonely as she was out there right now... probably. She wished she could know them so they didn't both have to feel this way.
"Do you think there's someone out there like me, Sir Jorgenbjorgen? Someone who's not allowed to have any friends?" She imagined them, watching the very same snowfall outside of their window. "I'd be their friend. I don't care what Mama or Papa would say. Everyone needs a friend." She rested her forehead against the chilly glass. "No one deserves to be alone."
...
Elsa waited for her instructor to arrive in the ballroom. She was reading Beowulf in the chair by the wall and the castle musician played the piano to kill time. Normally, Elsa liked Bach, but she was bored with him at the moment. She lowered the epic poem and said to the man, "Excuse me?" He stopped. "I want something more... lively. Something to go with my book!" Said the girl of fourteen.
"Uh... Something fast?"
Elsa nodded. "Yes!"
He thought for a moment, then began to play Lieder Ohne Worte, Op. 30: No. 1. Adante Espressivo in E-Flat Major. Yes, that was nice, but too light-hearted to fit her book.
"Umm..." She got him to pause. "Something a bit darker."
He started next with Chopin, Nocturne No. 19 in E minor, Op. 72, No. 1. Perfect! Elsa had just fallen back into the story when the doors opened and the piano halted. Her dance teacher was there for her obligatory lessons. Elsa shut her book and stood up.
"Guten Abend." He bowed his head.
"You too." She curtsied back, eyes averted. Elsa didn't have any crushes in her life that weren't on fictional characters... but Lars would be the first exception. She had no idea what her issue was the first time he taught her to waltz. Her palms felt so sweaty and her stomach clenched whenever he took her hand or shoulder to try and correct her movements. She found herself wanting to look nice for him whenever it was the day of her private lesson. She'd make sure not a single hair was out of place and that she looked proper and ladylike. Her younger self would be mortified!
But she was fourteen. Fourteen, almost fifteen... and she had not yet experienced a romance of her own. She was becoming a young woman before her own eyes, and people around her were starting to notice... she hoped Lars did too. He was twenty-one, good-looking, perfectly polite, and everything a gentleman ought to be. When she was a child, she would see herself with someone bold and daring, unafraid to break the rules, but as she matured, Elsa began to realize she preferred men who were more gentle, kind, easier to speak to and know they were listening.
"Are we ready?" He asked, putting on his gloves.
Elsa tried to suppress a blush. "Of course."
"Fantastic." They were quite familiar with one another now, as he'd been teaching her dancing and German for three months now. Elsa guessed that one of the reasons she found him so alluring was because he wasn't from Norway, but the Austrian Empire. He taught dance and played music all over Europe, and had many stories to tell whenever she asked. How she wished she could cross the sea back to Europe with him one day, or even alone! She'd use any excuse.
Lars would tell Elsa that she reminded him of his sister, which for him was the finest compliment he could give! Otherwise, he kept his opinions to himself, but Elsa wished he would be more verbal—how else could they have intellectual debates? Lars was simply taken aback by the mature young lady, unaware that she was used to being in the company of adults and emulating them. If only he'd had as good of a head on his shoulders at that age.
At first, Elsa liked to let Lars lead the dance, but these days she felt more audacious and would take the first step once the music started. As Lars was Austrian, he often requested Austrian songs.
Today, they practiced to Franz Schubert; Ständchen, S. 560 (Schwanengesang No. 4, D. 957). It was perfect for beginner dancers. Elsa liked the dancing, but she loved the conversation Lars made more. Lars spoke not of court politics, but of books, plays, musicians that lived in fabulous cities all over. He had gone to Vienna to hear the opera, and once Elsa heard this story, she had him tell it to her again and again. The opera house, the singers, the orchestra, the curtains, the sets—she wanted to savor every detail, so far did this world seem from her castle in the fjord.
"You're improving." He said delightedly.
"Thank you!" Right then, she tripped over his foot and stumbled as she tried to get back in place. She could only manage a sheepish grin, "Sorry!"
"I think that was my fault!"
Once they recuperated, they were back into the dance lesson until it was time for them to quit. Elsa always felt disappointed at how quickly the class went by. She tried to make conversation. "You know, Yule starts soon."
"Oh, that's right! Doesn't it start on your birthday?"
"No, not this year. The day before."
"Ah, lovely."
There was an awkward pause, but then Elsa said, "I'm sure you'd be more than welcome at our solstice ball! We have one every year." She was desperate to have somebody who saw her as an equal there. Not someone who thought they had to be on their best behavior around her. "It begins at sundown. My father likes you, so—"
Lars smiled at her. She blushed. "Your Royal Highness, nothing would please me more." She tried to remain coy, but she couldn't hide her giddy smile. "Until then." He bowed. She curtsied.
When Elsa went back upstairs to change into her nightclothes, she began to rethink her behavior. He probably only saw her as a little girl with a crush and not the grown woman she considered herself to be. But she had much more congress with people his age than her own! Wouldn't that sway his opinion of her?
She doubted herself a lot these days, even the most insignificant things made her insecure. She hated that she was tall. She surpassed her five-foot-eight mother but was just beneath her six-foot-two father, right at five-foot-ten. Most boys her age weren't even that tall! It bothered her that a lot of the time she was eye-level with most of the men in the room... it was worse when she had to wear heels.
Her mother had the same growth spurt when she was her age and assured her she was probably done. Though it gave her a shapely, womanly figure, Elsa thought it made her look intimidating, and she didn't want that. She wanted her subjects to know she wasn't imposing like her parents were. She wanted to be there for her people, to be a listening ear.
Who knew when that would be?
...
She would be fifteen in just a few hours, and Elsa had not once danced with a man before, not officially. No one dared to ask, and most were too nervous to get the king's blessing before they dared come close. It seemed Agnarr only got crankier with age, though he usually kept his temper in check. Tonight, though he was doing well with the guests, he couldn't be bothered with talk of treaties and meetings to come. He just wanted to enjoy the holiday.
Elsa was anxiously looking around for Lars—he had no obligation to turn up, but she'd just hoped... she saw him! He was standing alone among the crowd while others were dancing. Elsa lit up. She'd been hiding by the wall all night, but it was time to make her move. By now, it was her habit that she stood in perfect posture and she wore an air of confidence as she stepped onto the dance floor.
The musicians were playing Mozart; Piano Concerto No. 21 in C Major, K. 467: II. Andante. Lars had said Mozart was a fellow Austrian, and that he had been to the possible sight where he was buried. It was rumored that the birds sang more sweetly over that area. It was perfect for a waltz... and a great opportunity to test her German.
"Hast du eine gute Zeit?"
Lars looked over and smiled, impressed. "Ja, danke."
This felt so strange when all she really knew before was her native Norwegian, but what fun it was speaking a new language! She wished she were better at it. German didn't come to her as easily as Swedish or Danish.
"Darf ich um diesen Tanz bitten?"
Elsa only picked up about two words from that sentence, but she knew what it meant in context.
"Bitte." She accepted the gesture and she was taken across the ballroom. Her parents were too distracted to care where she was, like always. But tonight, that was fine. Tonight, she wasn't the lonesome, ignored princess, nor the little girl who dreamed of being a knight. She was just Elsa.
Even if he sailed back across the sea to Europe after this, Elsa would have this moment now. That was all that mattered. The intricate stitching of her gown twinkled and her long, blonde hair framed her delicate, flushed, youthful face. The music stopped and Lars let go of her waist and shoulder. It was like falling out of a dream when he did. She looked over at her parents, who were talking with another guest. They only looked calm and collected. Elsa scorned the thought that one day it would be her up there looking stiff all day and night.
A new song was playing now, one more whimsical than before, one that didn't say 'romance' or 'waltzing.' Dansereye: Rondes I & VII. Though everyone made the graceful transition, Elsa stood still, teenage nerves taking over again. Lars offered his hand. "Care for another dance?"
"Oh, um. No thank you." She curtsied politely. She had no idea why the mood had suddenly died, but she wasn't feeling particularly sociable and she retired from the ballroom and towards the banquet where all the sweets and foods were. She popped a chocolate truffle in her mouth, taking a moment to herself to try and process what she was feeling, but she heard the door open. Lars had followed her. Elsa didn't know what to say.
"Are you all right?"
"Oh, of course. I'm fine."
"Too many people?" He closed the door behind him and took his silk gloves off. Must be too hot from all the dancing. "I understand. I get the same way at parties."
"You'd think I'd be used to them." She giggled, befuddled at her own nervousness. Why was her stomach turning? Something was off, but she was perfectly comfortable with Lars! Maybe she should go back to the ballroom where there were more people... being alone with him like this made her a bit skittish, but she didn't want to hurt his feelings. "I'm probably being ridiculous. Let's go back."
"No." He said abruptly, though it sounded harmless. "I mean, it's nicer in here. More quiet."
Elsa stiffened. "Y-Yes... I suppose it is." The music could still be heard even from the other side of the wall; she hoped that would save her, knowing it was still possible that someone could hear them, but with all that music and chatter, who knew? Elsa didn't like this. She liked Lars, but not this. Nerves flaring, she went to walk out the other door, which would take her down an alternate route back to the ballroom, but she felt a tug on her wrist.
Not a yank, but a pleading, desperate grasp.
"Your Royal Highness, wait."
Her heart was racing now; and though they were roughly the same height, she didn't dare look into his eyes and kept her gaze at the floor. Surely he'd get the message.
"I know this might be coming on too strong but I can't stand keeping this in."
"Lars—!" She gasped, trying to pull free without showing her fear.
"I know, I know it's sudden, but you've been on my mind from the moment I looked at you."
Now Elsa looked at him, but in her eyes was all the disgust she could muster. All admiration she had for him died that very moment. Yes, she was of age to be betrothed, but for a grown man to come onto her in such a sleazy manner, that she wasn't privy too. And neither were her parents.
Elsa knew how to disarm him. "If my father finds out, he'll have you locked up in the dungeon!" She shook her hand free, and she expected him to bristle, but he did no such thing. All his life experiences had made him dauntless, and it would prove to be his undoing.
"I can take you to Austria. I'll show you the opera house. All those wonderful things I told you of."
Austria... It sounded so exotic, so tempting. All the adventures she wanted to have, they were right here in her grasp. Love or no, she wanted to jump at the opportunity! Her fourteen-year-old immaturity and impulsiveness wanted to say 'yes' and immediately pack a trunk of her things... but was past midnight, December twenty-second, her birthday. Her now fifteen-year-old wisdom, what little she had, reminded her of her morals. He hadn't the nerve and chivalry to ask her the honorable way: in front of her parents, with their permission. If it had gone that way, then Elsa would be considering the offer. But it had not, so there was no way she would ever accept.
"I'm flattered, Lars, I really am! But I cannot accept." She tried the knob again, but her shoulders were taken by his much larger hands and he pressed kisses to her neck. Adrenaline surging, Elsa began shoving and kicking with all the strength her slim body had. "Lars!" He slammed her mouth closed under his hand and he reached his other up the skirt of her dress, bundling it up as much as he could with how fervently she was flailing her body side to side.
Elsa tried to get his hand off of her, for he was unknowingly blocking her nose and she couldn't breathe! The moment he felt his finger brush her thigh did she slam her knee forward right into the stomach and he released her. Elsa knew she had to strike while he was down, lest he get right back up! She grabbed a platter, filled with whatever the cooks had spent all day making, and slammed it over his head once, twice, thrice, and sent food flying everywhere and Lars toppling to his knees.
That was invitation enough. Elsa, breathless, scrambled to open the door and she fled to the ballroom.
She didn't make a scene, nor did she break down in tears. Elsa managed to stay as calm as she could when she ran to her mother and father and told them everything.
The party was over.
...
As Lars was being arrested, Elsa had been sent to her room. She'd been pacing back and forth for nearly an hour, and only Gerda had come to check on her. While the servant woman was in tears, Elsa's heart was pounding and her hands were shaking... but it wasn't from fear. It was from survival.
She'd bucked him off of her all on her own. She was no helpless princess! Maybe this entire ordeal was a blessing—her parents would now see she could handle herself! Her chamber door opened suddenly and her parents were both there.
Iduna rushed to her. "Are you all right?"
"Yes, yes. I'm fine!" She sighed. She looked at both of them in the eyes. "I'm completely fine."
Agnarr was still enraged, and rightfully so! "That man won't see the light of day again. He'll be down in the dungeons until we decide what to do with him. Elsa, I'm so sorry. I never should have—"
"Father, you have nothing to be sorry for! Besides, I can take care of myself." She saw Agnarr's face fall, and it spurred quite the sour reaction. "What?"
"I promise I won't let anything of the sort happen to you again. From now on, we'll have guards present in the room whenever you—"
"What? Father, no! Didn't you hear what I just said?"
"I did. But I'm not going to risk someone else trying to hurt you."
"We just want to look out for you." Iduna clarified in a kindly tone.
"Now I'm going to have guards following me around all day too? When is this going to stop? I'm getting older and yet you treat me like I'm still a child!"
"You're our child." Agnarr scolded, but it came from a place of worry and love. "And while you may be a woman to some, you're still our little girl."
"I'm no one's little girl!" She exclaimed. "When are you going to see that I don't want or need you to tell me how to live my life?"
Agnarr recoiled, dubious. And Iduna gave her daughter such a look of hurt that Elsa almost took back her words. But it was true, not even when she proved to be a perfectly capable young lady they still wanted her dutiful and chained to a leash. She should've known. They never cared about her wants! They didn't even know what kind of books she liked to read, or what clothes she'd prefer to wear. She'd give anything for a lovely pair of walking boots and not the tight dress shoes or heels. Shouldn't that be their primary concern?
Agnarr sighed, "You've had a long night, and it's your birthday, so we'll let this go for now." He scratched her chin, and though Elsa wanted to pull away in defiance, she let him. "Get some rest." He went to the door without another word.
"We love you." Iduna said. To Elsa, it sounded like she said it out of obligation.
So that was it then—no real discussion. No change once again.
Another year gone by, and she was still just a little princess.