Disclaimer: I do not own Frozen

Rating: for mentions of sexual themes (nothing graphic) and suicide.

A/n: So it seems that if you take home internet away from me for two months, I spend a couple of weeks working on other projects and then decide the appropriate thing to do is to write a fairly long (for me) fanfic. Similar to another fanfic I wrote relatively recently, this idea started life as a oneshot. Unlike the other one, I realised fairly quickly that this would become a chaptered story. There will be five chapters in total. I hope to update once a day although that depends on what time I leave the office Monday-Wednesday. In the meantime, however, I hope you enjoy!

Ask Me Anything

1) The Wondering

It starts with trout.

They are eating dinner together, a few weeks after … everything, when Anna looks at her plate and then at Elsa's. She frowns.

"You don't have to do this for me," she says.

Elsa looks up. "Hmm?"

"I'm fine with not having trout."

Elsa watches her for a few seconds. "You don't want trout? I'm afraid I can't do anything about it now but I'll let Pieter know in future. Sorry, Anna – unless you sweet talk the kitchen staff, you'll have to eat what's in front of you."

"No, no, sorry, that's not what I meant. I like trout but … you hate it."

Elsa glances at her full fork, midway to her mouth. "I do?"

"Um … don't you?"

"No?"

Anna studies Elsa but all she can see in her sister's face is confusion. "But I remember you had a tantrum once. You hated it."

Elsa thinks for a moment. "You mean when we were children?" Anna nods. "I probably did. You're right, I hated it when I was little." She smiles slightly. "I guess it grew on me. Now, come on. If you like it, and I like it, there's no reason for us not to eat it."

Elsa continues to eat and, after a few seconds, Anna does as well. They discuss Elsa's plans for putting the kingdom together again and it is only later, much later, when she lies in bed that Anna thinks, Thirteen years and I didn't notice that she likes trout.

And then: what else don't I know?

They are sisters, she and Elsa, and they should know each other like the backs of their hands. But what does she know about Elsa? Really, what can she know after thirteen years of isolation?

Who are you, Elsa?

She doesn't realise she's decided to remedy it until she blurts out, "What do you like?"

Elsa pauses mid-step. They are supposed to be reviewing some reports – or Elsa is; Anna's volunteered to help because she is Crown Princess and also because she's bored – and Elsa has just finished explaining them to her.

"Um," she says. She glances at the bundle in her hands. "Solid house-building materials to ensure people don't freeze?"

Right. That's what the reports are about.

"No, I mean … in general?"

Elsa doesn't look any less confused but she does give the question some thought. Ever since the Great Thaw, she's listened and responded to everything Anna has said, no matter what it is. Anna can't help wondering how much of this is from interest and how much is from guilt.

"I'm sorry, Anna," Elsa says. "Could you narrow it down, please? I like a lot of things but I don't think that's what you're asking?"

She's right. The question is far too broad. What should she ask? Does Elsa like snow more than any other weather? Does she prefer red or white wine? Is blue her favourite colour?

In her mind's eye, she sees a blond-haired man ask her what Hans' surname is, what his eye colour is, what his best friend's name is. She couldn't answer those questions and look how that turned out.

A hand gently touches her shoulder and she jumps, and then Elsa jumps, hands to mouth, saying, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, are you OK?"

"Yeah," Anna says. "You scared me is all."

Which maybe is possibly just about the worst thing she could say to someone who's lived her whole life terrified of scaring and hurting people.

"So, house-building materials?" she says as quickly as she can. "Yeah! Let's read some reports and, uh, build houses! You know, not actually build them, but tell people how to build them. Or at least pick out the materials rather than tell them how to build, they've been doing it really well before we had anything to say about it so … say, do you think we should see if we can use some of the materials on the castle?"

Elsa blinks. "I … suppose so?" She laughs suddenly and the sound warms Anna's heart. "Come on, Anna. Time to bore you silly with reports about stones and trees. Maybe at the end of it, I'll be able to decide on a favourite plank of wood."

At first, they work in silence but Anna's attention span won't hold for that long. Not for something as interesting as the water retention rates of different types of wood. Elsa can't blame her – the only reason she can concentrate this long is years and years of having nothing as the alternative past time.

"You know," Anna says, "these would be much more interesting if they wrote them like stories."

Elsa bites back a smile. "Concentrate, Anna."

"It's true though."

"Maybe so, but Arendelle needs houses, not fairy godplanks. Besides, you wouldn't read them even if they were stories."

"Yes, I would." She pauses. "Unless they write it worse than they wrote the story of the girl who fell in love with a sparkling monster."

Elsa pauses and looks up at her sister with some surprise. "You've read that?"

"Years ago. I've read at least half the library. Hey, Elsa, that's an idea. Can we get some more books in there? Good ones, I mean. About brave warriors who save the day and get the girl." She smiles. "Actually, no. Other way round. The girls can go save the day. The boys will be lucky if the girl even looks at them afterwards."

The words I didn't know you like to read bubble up but she forces them down. Anna may be silly but she isn't illiterate. There's no reason she wouldn't like to read.

Except she hated it when they were children. And she's so loud and forceful and she hates studying and reports – reading just doesn't seem like the sort of the thing Anna would like.

Except she does.

"Yes," she says before realising they probably can't afford that right now. "In a few years. We still need to repair the damage … caused."

Conceal, don't feel.

She's not supposed to say that anymore.

Anna sighs but doesn't question it. As they return to the reports, Elsa finds herself wondering what else Anna likes to do. What else does Elsa not know about her little sister? Guilt creeps into her. If she hadn't spent thirteen years hiding herself away, she would know this.

Thirteen years. Thirteen years of barely speaking to her sister, of listening to her through a door, of watching her through windows and at family dinners. If you add up all of the time she spent in proximity to her sister, it probably wouldn't even come to six years.

Thirteen years apart.

People become estranged on much less time than that.

It is only when they eat dinner that Elsa remembers Anna's weird questions. And she only remembers because she's thinking the same things – what does Anna like?

What does she think? What did she do for thirteen years? What is it about Kristoff that she likes?

She and Anna, they're sisters but they are strangers. Even now, even in this conversation about Anna and Kristoff showing Olaf the lake outside, Anna is … not guarded, but wary of saying the wrong thing. Elsa is nodding along but she's not sure what she can laugh at and have it be laughing with and what would just be laughing at if she laughed.

To an extent, it must be easier for her because Anna spoke to her door for years. Yet when she thinks of those conversations, she doesn't know that she necessarily learnt anything. Besides, the last time Anna did it was about five years ago. Five years is a long time – almost a quarter of her life.

"You OK?" Anna says. "You look kinda spaced out there."

Elsa blinks. "I'm fine, thanks." She hurriedly tries to remember what Anna said. "So, are you meeting Kristoff tomorrow?"

Anna fiddles with her hair, her fingers twirling strands that used to be platinum-blonde. "That's something I need to ask you about, actually."

Anna is almost embarrassed. And wary of something.

"Of course."

Anna nods. "OK." She takes a breath. "It's … maybe I shouldn't see so much of Kristoff." As Elsa opens her mouth to ask where this has come from, Anna says in a rush, "I was in the city today and I heard the talk, you know, that he's a commoner and with the way Arendelle is, I should marry a noble or a prince or … I don't know but I know Kristoff's uncomfortable enough at the castle as it is and then when we go anywhere, they stare at him, and it's not helping you."

Elsa is so stunned by this outpouring that the only thing she can think of to say is:"That isn't a question."

Red tinges Anna's cheeks. "OK. Uh … should I keep seeing Kristoff?"

Why is Anna asking her? Anna has talked about her relationship with Kristoff before, half cheerfully and half warily – as though she both wants to share it and is terrified that Elsa will take it away – but she's never asked Elsa's opinion before.

"Do you like him?" Anna nods. "Is he … nice to you?"

Is he a sociopathic queen-killer?

"He is. He's sweet and kind and, OK, a bit smelly but … he's nice."

Elsa nods although she suspected as much (maybe not his odour but the rest of it). "Then don't let the comments bother you," she says firmly. "Bring him here one night. I'd like to get to know him properly."

She doesn't know him well – only knows that he saved Anna's life and Anna has since fallen for him. It was for services to Arendelle that she appointed him Official Arendelle Ice Master and Deliverer, not because of his relationship with Anna.

"Sure," she says. "Um, so, um, I don't have to marry a prince?"

She nearly says, Look how the last one turned out but even the thought of Hans makes her feel hollow and numb and Anna's dead and it's all her fault and-

Conceal, don't feel.

She's not supposed to think that.

"No," she says, almost fighting to drown out those thoughts. "Kristoff is the Official Arendelle Ice Master and Deliverer. That is equivalent to a baron. That's enough."

Something in Anna's face closes down even as she smiles. "Thanks, Elsa. Is … is that a royal declaration or…"

It wasn't actually but now she realises why Anna asked her. Because Elsa is the Queen and the Crown Princess legally has to ask the Queen for permission to court anyone.

And Anna honestly thought Elsa would refuse her. That's why she was wary. And that's why her question was should, not do you think we'd be good together.

It stings. Surely Anna should know that all Elsa wants is for her to be happy? Anna nearly died for her. As far as Elsa is concerned, if Anna asked to become a cat farmer and marry a servant girl, Elsa would rewrite the marriage laws herself and then stand in the church holding a basket of kittens.

"It can be," she says as neutrally as she can. She tries to smile. "Don't worry about our prospects with other countries. Plenty of places still need ice and fish and other materials." She makes herself keep smiling. "Besides," she says in what she hopes is a nonchalant tone of voice, "you're not the only eligible royal lady in this family, you know."

It's only thirteen words but they feel as heavy as thirteen thousand.

She opens her mouth to tell Elsa no, don't do this, but Elsa has already excused herself, claiming tiredness, and walked away. She closes her mouth, wondering how the conversation got so far away from her. She'd envisioned asking Elsa about Kristoff in a jokey way. Hey, sis, you kind of like Kristoff, and I like Kristoff, so would you mind doing the whole royal thing and saying I can court him? Or he can court me. Or we can court each other. As long as courting is involved.

And instead she'd rambled, not quite managing to ask for permission, unsure if Elsa would veto it. Probably not – but probably is a long way off from definitely.

Elsa said Kristoff was like a baron – so that made it proper. Because he's nobility. Anna hadn't even known that about Kristoff's title but of course Elsa would want things done properly. She's being unfair, she knows, because she's the one who brought up nobility first but it's almost as though Elsa planned this from the beginning and Anna is sick of not being told things.

But she hadn't meant for this. Maybe Elsa said the thing about being eligible to reassure her but she doesn't think Elsa says things she doesn't mean. At least, not without good intentions.

Elsa, please, please, I can't live like this anymore.

Then leave.

That night, she sits awake for a long time. She considers going to Olaf but she needs silence more than she needs cheer. She eventually sleeps. When she wakes, her heart is thudding and sweat covers her back as an aisle and a wedding dress slip from her waking mind into the dawn.

She spends the day with Kristoff. When she tells him about the meaning of his title, he nods. It's hardly surprising, he says, given his origins. A topic he can be touchy about.

In relation to the permission to court, he says, "Do you think she would have said no?"

Kristoff says things like that because he has only spoken to Elsa a handful of times.

"I … don't know."

He doesn't question that. Most of her assertions about her sister before the Great Thaw were wrong, or, at least, not quite right. After all, Elsa did hurt her. Elsa nearly killed her.

For the first time in forever, I finally understand.

She thought she knew people so well then.

"Elsa says you should come back for dinner with us one night."

Kristoff freezes and then coughs. "Do I have to?"

"Kristoffer-"

"Fine. Geez, I hate it when you call me that."

She smiles. "Thanks, Kristoffer."

Dinner that night starts awkwardly. Anna asks Elsa about her day which, it turns out, was spent trying to open trade negotiations with countries who are not connected to either Weselton or the Southern Isles, and attempting to work out how she can replace the food she accidentally destroyed under a blizzard. Her skin is pale and shadows ring her eyes but courtiers occasionally interrupt with urgent messages and she responds to each one in the regal, even tone that Anna remembers from the years after their parents died.

Her stomach clenches as she thinks about their parents. Elsa notices.

"Are you OK, Anna?"

"Course I am. I'm more OK than a person who's OK for a living."

"What?" Elsa says but Anna can see a spark of laughter in her eyes. That startles her.

"I'm good. Fine. Great. Um, Elsa, maybe you should ask that about yourself? You look terrible. Not terrible but, uh-"

Elsa chuckles. "Thank you." She bites back a yawn. "I'm sorry. It's been a long day."

"You look as though you haven't slept."

"I did. For about two hours. I think."

"Elsa! You need more sleep than that! Let me help. What can I do?" Seeing the refusal already written in Elsa's eyes, she says, "I do have to know all of this, you know."

Maybe Elsa agrees or maybe she just wants to placate Anna because she says, "Thank you, Anna. That would be helpful. Would you like to look at the missive from Corona? They're offering help although they've already done so much for us since Father died that I'm loath to accept anything else. Still. I guess we'll have to take whatever we can. Have a look tomorrow and let me know what you think we should do."

Anna starts to nod even though she has no idea how she's supposed to know what the right response will be. She looks at her sister again, noting the droop of her shoulders. Her hands wrap around a goblet which, now that Anna thinks about it, smells not of wine but of a popular energy stimulant.

"Blech," she says without thinking. "You like that stuff? What's in your goblet, I mean."

Elsa regards the goblet. "Like is too strong a word," she says. "I like not falling asleep on my reports, not the means that prevent me from doing so."

"Did you always sleep this little?"

Elsa looks startled by the question. After a couple of seconds, Anna realises that she's asked about Elsa behind doors. Elsa in the years of isolation. Such a small thing – Elsa's sleep patterns; what she likes to drink – but reflective of something bigger.

"I…" She coughs. "Not this little. I mean, not before Mother and Father died. I went to bed at normal times then. But after … I had to help the Regent keep everything running. So, sometimes…"

"Why didn't you ask me to help?" Anna says and then she remembers. Thirteen years of isolation. "Don't answer-"

But Elsa shakes her head. "No more secrets. You can ask me anything, OK, Anna?" Her gaze is so intense that Anna is half-scared of what would happen if she doesn't nod. Elsa breathes out and Anna can't help but notice that the room is just a little colder than it was a few seconds ago. "Most of it was because I was scared about what would happen if you were nearby," she says softly. "But part of it was because I didn't want to burden you like that. I was only learning myself and you had just lost both of your parents and still had to stay in a castle on your own. I didn't want to burden you even more."

Anna can't help herself – she stands up, walks over to Elsa and wraps her arms around her. Elsa stiffens – as she always does – but then relaxes into the hold.

"What's really silly," Elsa murmurs, "is that in the end, it hurt more than it helped. We tried to protect you and…"

Anna's not ready to talk about it. "You had good intentions," she says. "And it was Mother and Father who made you stay away from me and told you-"

"They wanted to protect you. They didn't know what else could be done," Elsa says sharply. Anna lets go and Elsa slumps a bit. Their parents are another topic they haven't touched. She knows little about Elsa's relationship with them. She thinks she was closer to their father than their mother but she's only gotten this from occasional comments at family dinners. And although no one has said as much, she knows their parents were the cause of Elsa's isolation.

Once, she would have said she adored her parents.

"I know," she says even though she doesn't. She looks over Elsa's shoulder at the drink. "So, you hate that stuff? You know, I don't think I've ever seen you drink wine. Or any alcohol. How come?"

"Do you think a drunk, ice witch queen is a good idea?"

"And a hyperactive, stimulated one is?"

Elsa snorts which is another sound that warms Anna's heart. "Still better than a drunk one. In truth, I think I've only ever had one goblet of wine. I snuck it from the kitchens when I was sixteen."

"You didn't!"

"I did." Elsa grins. "I was in a bad mood with Father and everything and that was my way of rebelling. Went down late at night and took it back to my room. I didn't like the taste much. Since then… I haven't tried any other alcohol. I always have my goblet filled with fruit juice at events and pretend it's wine." She twists to look at Anna properly. "You drink it though."

"Not all the time," Anna says, slightly defensively. "At dinner. Father let me have some on my fifteenth birthday and said I should drink it at dinner. I mean, when appropriate. Wait, are you saying all that time, you were drinking fruit juice?"

"I wasn't allowed alcohol. Hence the kitchen raid. Ice witch, remember?"

She says it casually but her arms twitch, as though she wants to do that weird holding thing she does when she's upset, but is refraining. Does Elsa like her powers? Somehow, Anna hasn't asked. Yet.

The list of questions she hasn't asked just keep piling up.

Who are you, Elsa?

"So you drink fruit juice and that stupid stimulant. That's it?"

"Coffee. Heated chocolate, sometimes. And tea. And you?"

"Oh, coffee and heated chocolate for sure. Not tea. I like the strong stuff. I mean, not strong like, really strong wine, but it's gotta have flavour, you know?"

Elsa nods then yawns. She reaches for her goblet but Anna places her hand on Elsa's arm.

"Bedtime for you, sis."

"But I need to-"

"Sleep. If you can, after all that. C'mon, Elsa, Arendelle's not gonna fall apart if you go to bed. I promise."

Elsa smiles tiredly. "When did you get so grown up?"

When she realised that men could be treacherous, older sisters could be heart-achingly vulnerable and parents were fallible.

"No going off topic. Bed. Now." She tugs at Elsa's arm and Elsa, surprisingly, stands up. Anna doesn't let go so they walk through the corridors together.

"Did we set a date for Kristoff coming?" Elsa murmurs. Anna shakes her head. "How about three days' time? That will give him time to panic all he wants."

Kristoff is calmer about it than Anna is but she can't say that.

"I'll tell him. Thanks for suggesting it. It'll be nice. We'll have fun."

"Where does he live?" Seeing Anna's confusion, she says, "Just so I know what time to set the meal at so he can get home." She pauses as something occurs to her. "Anna, I know you like him a lot, and I know I said you two can court, and I know this isn't my business and far be it from me to tell you what to do in your private life – uh, within reason – but it might be prudent if you two, uh … don't … I mean, if you are … you aren't, are you? You don't have to … actually, don't tell me. Just, um, don't give me reason to think you are otherwise I think I have to make a declaration or something and, um…"

Her face is bright red. It takes Anna a few seconds to work out what Elsa, who is normally so forthright and certain, is talking about. When she does, indignation and laughter swell up inside her. Indignation first because who does Elsa think Anna is? And anyway, who is she to tell her who she can and can't sleep with? Why is everything about propriety with her? Then she realises that she is the heir and is supposed to remain pure until marriage and before Hans and his corruption of love, she would have always said that she would remain pure until marriage. Elsa has to ensure tradition is upheld. So then the laughter because Anna is supposed to be the rambling one and that speech sounded exactly like the sort Anna can give when she's very nervous.

"We aren't," she says, trying to keep a straight face. "If it helps you sleep better. He sometimes stays down in the city. He'll be fine. He takes on wolves. Well, I had to help but, you know, he can handle a couple on his own." She grins as Elsa looks relieved. "You could have just asked, you know."

"That is not a conversation I want to have with my little sister. Just … be careful, OK, Anna? If he's not the one for you…"

Marriages of propriety. Is that what it comes down to?

Or is she assuming the worst of Elsa?

She thinks about what she's learnt about Elsa this evening. She's been working hard for years. She doesn't drink alcohol. She takes stimulant to stay awake. She broke the rules at least once when she was a teenager. She likes tea, coffee and heated chocolate. She's defensive about their parents, despite everything. The thought of discussing Anna's sex life makes her blush.

Small things. So many things in one night. And she still doesn't know what Elsa means when she warns Anna to be careful.

They're nearing Elsa's room when a question drifts into her mind. It's only fair, she thinks, after that conversation. "Elsa," she says, "Have you ever had sex? Or kissed someone?"

Elsa said that Anna could ask anything but seeing the way that Elsa's body stiffens, Anna realises that there's a difference between could and should. Just because Elsa has opened the door doesn't mean that Anna has a right to drag her out.

"No," says Elsa quietly, not looking at Anna, "to both questions." She looks ahead, body still stiff. "Anna, I think I can take it from here. Thanks for walking with me. I'll see you tomorrow." She turns her head slightly. "Goodnight, Anna."

"Night, Elsa," she says, watching as Elsa walks into the room and closes the door firmly behind her.