Chapter Text
The two and a half year old was already having lessons, in between meal times and nap. Elsa leaned against the far wall, ever vigilant. The tutor had called for a break and left, likely on her way to the loo or whatever they called it here. To her dismay, Anna wasted no time in walking over, feet now more sure of themselves, even adding an extra, needless hop to her step that her parents no doubt found endearing. Elsa kept her eyes up, already knowing the floor was clear of dangers with the possible exception of the alphabet blocks if Anna took three steps to her left.
Anna craned her head up, blue-green eyes cheery and bright. Elsa ignored her, her time better spent scanning the area, especially if her charge was going to literally be within arms reach.
A flicker of movement caught her eye. She looked down briefly, seeing that Anna had lifted her arms up and towards her.
Elsa grit her teeth.
Anna bounced on her toes.
Elsa folded her arms tighter.
Finally, Anna put her hands down, forlorn. Elsa’s sigh of relief cut off halfway; Anna had figured out the problem.
“Please?” Elsa closed her eyes in despair. The question was repeated, this time with the arms and bouncing.
“No,” Elsa ground out, searching the doorway. Where was that damn tutor?
She sensed the toddler recoil, as though physically struck. “No?” She whimpered. Elsa heard a tiny foot stomp. “No’s’a bad word, Elsa.”
The bodyguard stiffened. She leaned over the girl with impatience, eyes cold and impassable. “No, it’s not. It’s a good word, if you know how to use it correctly.”
Anna’s frown crumbled, fat teardrops gathering in her blue-green eyes. “But… ‘please’,” she repeated. “A nice word.”
“Nice words don’t always get you what you want.” Anna’s face fell and Elsa quashed the guilt rising from her stomach. The girl had to learn sometime, and better now than later.
Elsa thumped her head against the wall as Anna started to sniffle. She was a guard for god’s sake! She was a highly skilled, highly trained, highly disciplined warrior who knew ten different ways to kill a man with her own cravat. She refused to be some glorified babysitter for a sniveling, entitled little–!
A wail erupted between her feet. Anna fell to the floor amid great heaving sobs, her misery echoing horribly in the high ceilinged library.
Elsa clapped her hands over her ears, staring down in white faced horror at the bawling child. Anna never had tantrums. She was stubborn and a bit rambunctious but in all her years, even with Hilmar and Bjor, Elsa hadn’t heard anything quite like this.
“Shh! Anna stop this!” Elsa hissed, casting a fearful glance at the doorway. “Just, just stop , I’m begging you.” The girl refused to listen to Elsa’s reasonable, incredibly compelling argument. “This is pointless, why are you crying? Look I’ll, I’ll go get Her Majesty and everything will be fine. I’ll be right back.”
If Elsa had not possessed reflexes honed by years of training she may well have bowled Anna over right then and there. As it was, Anna clung to her pant leg, face and cheeks red, inhaling for another soul rending sob. Elsa was trapped.
“Anna please.”
The girl stilled. “Please?” She parroted, getting the word out between hiccups.
“Yes, please,” Elsa emphasized, using her hands. “Please stop crying.”
“Please,” Anna agreed, sounding much more content and much less like she was attempting to be, or to summon, a banshee.
Elsa’s shoulders slumped, crisis over. “Thank you, Anna.” Gently she eased her leg out of the toddler’s reach. Anna was looking at her again. “What?”
“Please?” Anna held up her arms. Elsa held back a groan.
“Anna I… I’m not…” How did one explain to a two year old that there were people who fought and people who nursed? People who cooked and people who wrote, people who taught and people who ruled? To Anna, people were people.
And people could lift her up.
“No is’a good word,” Anna reminded her solemnly, stripping Elsa of any possible defense she could have raised. “Don’t use it for bad.”
The tutor rushed down the hall, skirts bunched in her fists. A thousand different apologies arranged themselves half formed in her tongue – Hallvardurs would have her hide and the King would have her house for sure! She stopped briefly at the entryway, regaining her breath. She didn’t know which explanation of her tardiness would satisfy the cold woman, but she had to try.
Arendelle’s Royal Bodyguard stood in the middle of the room with her back to the door, bouncing slightly on the balls of her feet as she swayed back and forth. That alone was enough to make the tutor pause, but as Elsa turned and revealed her front, her jaw dropped.
Anna had her arms around Elsa’s neck, eyes closed in peaceful sleep, weight supported effortlessly by the strong and surprisingly caring arms of her protector. Elsa shifted her weight from foot to foot, copying with only minor difficulty the motion she’d observed the King and Queen doing when rocking their child to sleep. She wasn’t smiling, but her face was soft and turned utterly towards the slumbering girl in her arms.
The tutor left without a word. She had a far better story to tell.