#but damage field is probably going to outpace bolt at this rate

[pisswizard420]

Shoutout to the knack (stormborn) edge beautiful wonderful 10/10 getting so much use

[ahtohallan-calling]

chapter 6 of love is the only thing we can carry with us (kristanna slowburn/angsty but cute/no magic au, rated t) is up!

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“Kristoff?”

“Hm?”

“I’m sorry I snapped at you.”

“Don’t be. You had a right to be upset. I’m sorry about your flowers.”

He let himself look at her again. She was biting her lip, the way she did when she felt shy around him. He realized suddenly that she hadn’t done it for a while. When did we stop being strangers to one another? he wondered. Was it when I remembered you? Do you remember me yet, Anna?

Will you forget me again this time?

It was already beginning to rain as Kristoff made his way outside to the stable. He hadn’t been planning to go up and check on Anna today; he had just gone the day before with a wagonload of supplies. She had been waiting for him, waving excitedly from the window, but had deflated somewhat when she came downstairs and found him already carrying in her weekly groceries.

“I thought we could go together again,” she had said.

Kristoff couldn’t bring himself to look at her, couldn’t stand to see the disappointment he knew was plain on her face. “Didn’t have time today, but I couldn’t let you go hungry,” he had muttered before turning and leaving before she had time to ask any more questions.

In truth, he had been planning on taking her into town as had become their routine; once a week they would go for what she needed, once a week they would go when she insisted she had run out of something earlier than expected, and when she was able to wheedle him into a third trip, they would simply take the long way to the center of the village so she could feast her eyes on the fields of wildflowers that were beginning to paint the mountainside in riotous shades of violet and blue. 

But that had been before Kristoff’s grandfather had confronted him after visiting Anna himself for a check-up. “You simply cannot continue taking her into town with you,” the older man had insisted sternly. “You heard it from the queen herself: we cannot risk any further damage to Anna’s heart. Any overexertion, any new illness could spell disaster for her and for Arendelle.”

Though Kristoff had simply nodded, his grandfather must have seen the flash of fear in his eyes and softened slightly. “I don’t believe it’s brought any harm to her yet,” he had said kindly. “But you must implore her to be more careful with her health. She doesn’t know how important it is that she spend as much time as possible resting and recuperating. But you do.”

“Why don’t they just tell her?”

Sadness seemed to settle on his grandfather’s features. “You heard the queen. She fears what the shock of the news might do to her heart. But I think the greater fear for the queen– and, I confess, for myself– is how it might crush her spirit.”

Sven huffed, bumping his nose against Kristoff’s shoulder and startling him from his reverie. “Sorry, buddy,” he said, offering a carrot to the reindeer before climbing up into the saddle. “Got lost in my head, didn’t mean to keep you standing in the rain.”

The rain picked up as he traveled, and Kristoff cursed himself for not even bothering to put on a hat. He knew he would need an excuse to visit Anna, and so he was bringing her one of his favorite books, planning to tell her she could read it to fill the time while she waited for the storm to pass. 

He knew she would appreciate the book but would be much more grateful for the company–  the real reason for his visit; he knew how she hated being stuck up there alone. He’d already taken care of his chores at his own home that morning, knowing he’d likely be in the cottage up on the hill until sunset, listening to Anna chatter away about everything and nothing, teasing her just to see the way her cheeks turned pink beneath her freckles, bickering back and forth with her to cover up the fact that he was starting to grow fond of her.

He knew she suspected it; he’d seen the gleam in her eyes whenever she caught him going out of his way to help her or holding back a smile after one of their silly arguments. He didn’t know why hiding his affection felt so important; after all, what was wrong with becoming friends with her? He’d gotten along well with a few people here and there who’d come to the village for long stays like this in the past, even still wrote a few of them on occasion just to check in. But this was different, somehow, and exploring the reason why was going to lead him down a path he couldn’t come back from.

A path that smelled of cinnamon and black tea and whispered look how she smiles when you say her name. 

Lightning cracked in the distance, followed by a boom of thunder a few moments later, and Sven looked up. Kristoff swore he could see the nervousness in the reindeer’s eyes. “It’s okay, buddy,” he called. “Try and go a little faster, see if we can outpace it, eh?”

He didn’t even need to touch the reins; Sven snorted and faced forward again, speeding up to a fast trot as they began the ascent up the hill. At any other time, he would have allowed himself to relish the feeling of victory– proof once again that despite what everyone else thought, Sven did understand him– but the rain was lashing against them so hard now that his focus remained solely on keeping Sven on the path.

He steered the reindeer towards the side of the cottage and the ramshackle stable there; it was better than nothing, though he was kicking himself for not getting around to repairing it yet. As he removed the saddle, he heard a cry rising over the rain and bolted back outside, not caring when the saddle splashed into the mud.

“Kristoff!”

What the hell happened? he thought wildly, sprinting through the mud to the back of the house. His heart tightened in fear when he saw her kneeling in the dirt, hair plastered to her shoulders.

“Jesus, Anna, what are you doing out here?” he asked, falling to his knees beside her and grabbing her shoulder. “What’s wrong?” To his horror, he realized she was crying, tears rolling down her face and mixing with the rain.

“The flowers,” she answered through chattering teeth, gesturing at the pitiful little green shoots that were flattened against the earth, some already exposed to their roots. “They’re going to die! What can we do?”

“Damn it, Anna,” he swore. “Why did you come out here?”

“We have to save them!”

“We can’t! You have to go inside, now.”

Her tears had turned to full-blown sobs, her shoulders shaking. Desperate to shield her from the rain, he tore off his jacket, holding it over her head. Why was she only wearing a nightgown? “Anna, come on. Please.”

“But they’ll die!”

He clenched his teeth, fighting to keep the truth from spilling out. You could die, too.

Instead, he shook his head fiercely. “I– I’ll come back out, see if I can replant them, build a barrier, or–”

“No,” she said, pulling away from him and frantically digging in the mud, trying to build a dam to keep the seedlings from being washed down the hill. “I can do this!”

“Anna–”

“They’re mine, it’s my job to take care of them!”

“And it’s my job to take care of you!” Kristoff shouted over a clap of thunder.

She sagged against him then, covering her face in her hands as she wept. He wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her upright with him while still doing his utmost to shield her from the storm. She leaned against him, clinging to him as they made their way inside. 

As soon as they were in, Kristoff pulled away from her, the fear he had felt turning to anger. “What were you thinking, Anna? You can’t just–”

“Don’t you dare say it,” she retorted, fists clenched. “I’m so fucking tired of hearing ‘Anna can’t do this, Anna can’t do that’. Even before this winter, that’s all I’ve ever heard. I can take care of myself, Kristoff Bjorgman.”

She stood tearstained before him, quivering with rage and cold, flaming red hair dripping on the floor, waiting for him to argue, to coddle, to plead.

He didn’t. Instead he simply nodded and said, “You’re right.”

Her fists unclenched, and she took a deep breath. “I’m– I’m glad you see things my way,” she said, still staring up at him with those unearthly blue eyes. “I’m going upstairs now to change.”

Kristoff nodded again. “The fire looks a bit low. I’ll put more kindling on if you’d like.”

She nodded imperiously and headed up the stairs, every inch a princess even in a soaking wet nightgown. It was the side of her he always forgot about; it was all too easy to pretend she was just a normal girl, here just for a vacation, not going home to marry a stranger in a few months, just because he was a prince and not–

Not going down that path, Kristoff told himself firmly. He knelt down by the fireplace, tossing a log on and prodding a little too forcefully at the flames until they roared back to life. He held his hands to it for a minute, savoring the warmth, before stepping back outside to brave the storm and check on Sven.

To his relief, the reindeer looked to be warm and dry. Kristoff scratched him behind the ears, offering him a carrot. “Sorry to run off like that, buddy. It was kind of an emergency.”

Sven crunched happily on his treat in response, and Kristoff managed to smile. “Thanks for understanding.”

When he came back into the cottage, Anna was downstairs in front of the fire, wrapped in a blanket with her hair fanned out over her shoulders to dry. She turned to him, eyes puffy and red, though she was no longer crying. “How can you lecture me about going out in the rain and then run right back out there yourself?” she demanded.

“If you’ll recall, I’m not the one who just had pneumonia.”

“Yeah, but you will if you keep doing stupid stuff like this.”

He raised an eyebrow, and a blush flamed in her cheeks as she realized the irony of what she’d just said. “I– well– it’s different,” she insisted. “I was trying to do something important.”

“So was I. I had to check on Sven.”

She broke his gaze, looking defeated. Before today, he probably would have teased her about letting him win, laughed when she rolled her eyes and playfully shoved his shoulder. 

Instead, he sat beside her on the floor, holding out a hand. She looked at it, confused. “Truce?” he offered, watching as a small smile crept onto her face.

“Truce,” she said, taking his hand and giving it a firm shake. “But you still need to get out of those wet clothes.”

She had a point; his hair was still dripping onto the floor. He stood and pulled off his jacket, then fumbled with his sweater, trying not to blush when it pulled up the shirt underneath with it. At least that was still dry enough to wear. He tugged the shirt back down as Anna watched him, wearing that imperious gaze again, and she nodded in approval when he hung the offending garments over the back of a chair. 

“You can keep your pants on, but come sit with me by the fire. Here, you can have my blanket.”

He shook his head; he knew it was making her feel better to get the chance to be the caretaker for once, but she still looked a little too pale and definitely too shivery to allow that. “You need it, Anna. Your hair’s still sopping wet.”

“Fine, then we’ll share,” she said with an irritated huff, pulling the blanket from around her shoulders and holding it up. “Sit down so I can put it over both of us.”

He complied, doing his best to keep a careful distance from her. Anna had no such qualms and scooted close enough that her knee brushed against his before draping the blanket carefully over their laps. “There,” she said, satisfied. “That should do it.”

For several minutes they sat together in silence, neither acknowledging their proximity. Anna began combing through her hair with her fingers, braiding it and unbraiding it without really paying attention to what she was doing. In the firelight, it glimmered a deep, burnished copper, in stark contrast to the sapphire blue of her eyes.

Damn it, Bjorgman, stop comparing her to jewelry, he thought, averting his eyes and trying to ignore the way his heart was suddenly beating faster for no good reason. It’s not like she’ll ever–

“Kristoff?”

“Hm?”

“I’m sorry I snapped at you.”

“Don’t be. You had a right to be upset. I’m sorry about your flowers.”

He let himself look at her again. She was biting her lip, the way she did when she felt shy around him. He realized suddenly that she hadn’t done it for a while. When did we stop being strangers to one another? he wondered. Was it when I remembered you? Do you remember me yet, Anna? 

Will you forget me again this time?

He nudged his knee against hers. “I can get you some new seeds.”

“Can I come with you?”

He hesitated, and almost immediately her shoulders drooped in disappointment. “Anna, it’s not that I don’t want you to come with me, it’s–”

“That you don’t think I can do it.”

“Not that,” he said quickly, “more that I don’t want you to get sick again. And my grandfather thinks you will if you do too much too fast.”

“What do you think?”

“I’m not a doctor, Anna,” he hedged. “Or a…whatever my grandfather is exactly. I can’t say.”

She mulled over this for a moment. “I think people are more cautious around me just because I’m a princess, and without me there’s no backup.”

“What do you mean, backup?”

“Elsa’s the heir, I’m the spare,” she said without a trace of self-pity. “So they treat me with kid gloves. Her, too, but Elsa’s always been pretty cautious on her own.”

Anna’s eyes were far away as she stared into the fire. Unsure of what else to do or say, Kristoff put his arm around her shoulders. To his surprise, Anna leaned against him.

“I feel like I’ve spent my whole life trapped indoors,” she continued, her voice soft. “With everyone just telling me what to do all the time, saying it’s not safe to go out or do this or try that, and now– now I’m supposed to get married and move to some new kingdom, and I don’t know anything about the world out there. I don’t even know anything about love. All I know is what I read in books.”

“Maybe I can help you out there,” Kristoff said, hoping to cheer her up a little. “You know, I’ve been told I’m somewhat of a love expert.”

She laughed, and something inside his chest untangled at the sound of it. “By who? Sven?”

“…maybe.”

“Well, what’s your expert advice, then?”

He pondered for a minute. “Hmm…brush your teeth before kissing.”

She laughed again and leaned her head against his shoulder. Kristoff swallowed hard.

“I’m glad you’re here this time around,” she said with a contented sigh. 

“This time?“ 

"I got sent here once when I was little. I’d had something– some fever or another– and they sent me up here so I wouldn’t get Elsa sick, too. It was miserable. I’ve never been so lonely as I was then, except for…" 

Kristoff’s heart was pounding so hard he was certain she could hear it. He held perfectly still, hardly daring to breathe.

"There was one night– it had been ages since my parents had come to visit. And then they were there with a present, as if that would make u p for all of it, and I was so mad I wouldn’t even come downstairs. I watched from the window until they left, and I just– I felt so lonely in that moment, like I’d be trapped in that room forever. And then I looked down, and there he was.”

This isn’t happening, there’s no way–

“Just– this boy, only a little older than me. And he helped me sneak out and we played and just…it meant so much to me to get a chance, just for a little bit, to just be a normal kid. And then we got caught, and I never saw him again, but I always wondered what happened to him. Sometimes I thought I made him up, that he was just some imaginary friend. But I always wondered if I’d see him again, if I’d get a chance to thank him and ask him why he did it.”

He couldn’t breathe. Anna looked up at him, brows knitting together in worry. “Kristoff?”

“You were crying,” he said, his voice ragged. “You were crying, and you were scared, and you were alone. And I had to do something.”

For a moment, she just looked at him, confused, and then realization dawned in her eyes, those eyes he couldn’t stop thinking about every time he closed the cottage door and went home only to dream about them too.

“Kristoff, I–”

“I need to go home,” he said, shoving the blanket off his lap and standing up. A flash of hurt crossed her eyes, and he quickly added, “I just– I need to take care of something, okay?” 

She nodded, still stunned, as he pulled his damp sweater back over his head. “But I’ll come back tomorrow. With new seeds. I promise.”

Before she could say his name again, that way that was making his heart do funny flips in his chest, he was out the door.

The whole trip back to the village, his mind was reeling, trying to make sense of what the hell had just happened. She had remembered him, all these years later, and she’d told him about it while she was leaning against him, and the way her head had rested against his shoulder had made him think it had always belonged there. 

He went to his grandfather’s house, unsure of what else to do. Grandpapa saw him coming and opened the door, raising his eyebrows at his disheveled state. “What have you gotten into this time?”

Kristoff shook his head. “I can’t– I can’t do it anymore. I can’t help you take care of her any more. Find someone else.”