There were exactly two and a half things Elsa was positively, absolutely, certain of. One was that growing up wasn’t exactly a walk in the park. It was frustrating, time consuming, and most of all, personality changing. She didn’t have to reflect in on herself to know how much of a serious witch she was being, because she could tell. Once Elsa turned fourteen she had begun to really push Anna away. That’s when things got even more out of control than usual and every time she touched something it turned cold and blue.
There would be mornings where she’d wake up and hear Anna outside her bedroom door, sliding playfully down the hall, asking for her to play with her, and just being told to go away. Elsa couldn’t stand to look at her sister, she loved Anna yes, but the sight of that streak of white hair in all that beautiful brown just made her angry with herself and then before she knew it the whole room was frozen to an ice chest.
So she isolated herself and her sister, for Anna’s protection. For Arendelle’s protection.
The second thing she was sure of was that being born with powers wasn’t all just ice cream and unicorns; it came with way more responsibility than she as a child could handle. Days and days passed as she continued to deal with her powers, constantly reminded by her parents that she need to bottle up all her emotions, keep them locked way down deep for no one else to see, even her very own sister.
The last half a thing she only counts as a half because there are sometimes when people out there prove her wrong. Elsa is halfheartedly sure that people will never understand the trials and tribulations she’s face as a wielder of ice. But like stated before, people have proven her wrong before, so she will never count that as a whole.
She’s sixteen now, and Anna’s thirteen, and Elsa is finding it harder to keep everything under control. Her powers are stronger than ever, they’re even beginning to freeze her sheets as she sleeps and Elsa is beginning to worry. If anyone – including her sister – were to find out about her powers she would probably be cast out of the kingdom by its people, despite her father’s influences, and would be forced to live out her life in solitude.
Which really didn’t seem like anything different from what she was doing now, maybe just the lack of the occasional bugging from her sister, but that’s all. The idea did suit her, the cold and bitterness of ice and the dark, gloomy feelings of isolation. It could work. However there were five years left until her coronation and she was willing to stick it out, to learn to control the ice that flowed through her veins and be able to accept that globe and scepter and hold them in front of a crowd without any worries about them seeing the two objects freeze to icicles in her hands.
Everything was being planned out for her, everything. Even the knock on her bedroom door at four in the morning.
