#they elope the next say mwah chefs kiss

[bepoets]

I KNOW I ASKED FOR IT BUT FIX ITTTT!! TELL ME ANNA SENDS A LETTER SOMEDAY OR THEY COME ACROSS EACH OTHER FIX IT BROOKLYN!!!!

Are we really SHOCKED that Ellie is asking for a fix it fic? No. No we are not.

This is a fix it fic thing to this fic thing https://ravenclaw-geek394.tumblr.com/post/190266067573/kristanna-angst-hand-holding-tears-because

Enjoy friends

Anna comes back home when she’s 26. It’s been a decade. Eventually, when she went years without a letter from Kristoff she just, gave up on actually sending the letters. But she continued to write them. Tucked away in her notebook, hidden in her nightstand or her suitcase depending on where she was. She didn’t write them everyday, not even once a month. Simply whenever the mood would strike her. Whenever she felt that she needed to tell him soemthing inportant or mundane, or if she felt the need to assure him of her affections. She didn’t lose hope. It just got, quieter.

So when she returned home to the Arendelle estate, on the eve of her fathers funeral she wasn’t quite sure what to expect. Elsa has moved back home years ago, taking over father’s business once he became ill. Her sister constantly mentioning Kristoff in her letters, providing Anna with the perfect opportunity to ask about him. But she’d always stop. Reminding herself that he was the one who stopped replying to her. He gave up, he gave up on her. On them.

She didn’t see him right away. Anna arrived late that night, only a few housekeepers awake to great her. Hugging her and expressing their joy to see her again, even with the circumstances.

She saw him at the funeral. He was a guest. As were the rest of the staff, “as they should be,” thought Anna. Thankful that no one was expected to work today. These people, all of them, this house itself had endured far too much loss. Anna was almost certain grief was wrapped around it, buried deep within the floor boards and hidden in every crack and crevice of the walls.

He looked older.

Which was a silly remark. Considering of course he was older. It had been a decade. So much had changed. He looked at her, when she stared. And Anna felt her cheeks turn red. As if she had been caught stealing from the cookie jar as a child. His eyes were what shocked her. They were unguarded. She could see every emotion. Grief. Loss. Exhaustion. Longing. But worst of all hurt. And somehow Anna felt it must be directed at her.

They don’t speak again until late that night. Anna can’t sleep. She couldn’t sleep after her mother’s funeral either. It’s as if all the loss and grief falls right back into her chest before she sleeps. So she sneaks out, as she used to when she was younger, and finds a place. A place of comfort and joy. A place only touched by happiness, not tangled in this web of sorrow.

She finds a tree. Just on the edge of the estate. It’s a large tree that she remembers climbing when she was little. Before mother got sick and after. She would swing from the branches upside down. She remembers fondly her and her sister pretending to be monkeys dangling from the tree. She also remembers jumping off the branches and having Kristoff catch her. Calling it a “crazy trust exercise.” It’s a place of childhood happiness. So she climbs up the tree and lays against the trunk on one of the branches. Twisting around the edges of her shawl, looking up into the stars.

That’s when she hears him.

“This isn’t another one of those crazy trust exercises is it?”

His voice almost makes Anna fall out of the tree. In fact she only just catches herself before stumbling. She laughs though, she missed this.

“I’m sorry for your loss, I know this must’ve been hard to come back too.” And he’s so sincere and genuine when he says it. Like his heart breaks for her.

“I’m sorry too, for your loss I mean.”

There’s a pause. A silence between them that once, long ago, would have been comfortable. Would have get like home, but now it’s leaving Anna sloghtly on edge. She’s never been one to keep her thoughts calm or at bay. They’re always too much and far too fast. She has too many things she wants to say, questions she wants to ask, and answers she needs to hear and there’s Kristoff looking up at her and she can see it. It’s still there. The sparkle, the soft haze in his eyes, the love he’s expressing, without even saying a word, and suddenly it puts her mind at ease for a moment.

Anna opens her mouth to speak as soon as Kristoff does. Saying “would you-” just as he says “how long are-” They laugh. And Anna feels everything falling back into place.

“Ladies first,” Kristoff waves up towards her, gesturing for her to continue with a lopsided grin. “Oh you’ve become quite the gentleman.” He starts to shake off the compliment, saying something about picking up a few things from working here so long and the high society people that visit. But Anna stops him. “No, you’ve always been a gentleman. More so than any of the suitors and high society gents I’ve met.” Kristoff chuckles, that nervous and awkward kind of chuckle when he feels too put on the spot. Too much attention and kindness that he’s sure he doesn’t deserve, even though he truly does.

“Come sit with me?” Anna’s eyes are pleading. Practically begging for this to last longer. To live in this moment. Kristoff’s mouth falls open and eyes widen, “up there? In your tree?” Anna nods, enthusiastic as ever. “Anna it’ll break.”

“Even better,” she says with a laugh, “you’ll catch me when I fall.” And to Anna’s surprise, that works. The next thing she knows Kristoff is sitting in her tree, closest to the trunk holding onto any branch nearby to keep his balance and stay steady. It’s only when he’s settled, safely across from her on the branch, that they really start to catch up. It’s small talk mostly. She tells him about Europe. He tells her about the baby horse they rescued. They make jokes and share stories and heartfelt moments and everything is as it should be. But they’re dancing around things. Tiptoeing around the big questions.

“How long are you staying?” He says it in a whisper so soft it almost floats away with the wind. But Anna catches it.

“I’m— I’m not sure.” Anna knows that’s confusing and she can tell just from the look on kristoff’s face that it’s surely not the answer he was hoping to hear. So she elaborates. “I don’t have any reasons to return to Europe. But, I’m not sure if I still, have a reason to stay here anymore either.”

Anna’s certain no one will ever look at her, gaze at her, with the same intensity as Kristoff does when he responds. “You always have. You always will.”

Anna opens her mouth to say thank you. To express how much it makes her heart soar to hear him say that. To cry.

Instead the question she’s been avoiding falls out.

“Why did you stop writing?”

She’s sure this is it. She’s crossed a line. The silence that follows is heavy and sits on her chest to the point where she can hardly breathe. It’s coming she’s waiting for it. The rejection. You’re a lovely girl Anna but I just don’t love you. You left me anna how could I be expected to wait for someone who didn’t even stay. She knows it’s coming. She wants to close her eyes, hold her breath, but instead she stares. Waiting for Kristoff to speak.

He’s giving her this odd look. Sad and confused, like he doesn’t quite understand how she doesn’t know.

“I didn’t.”

“Really, Kristoff it’s okay you can tell me honestly you don’t have to pretend it’s—” Anna can hear the tears welling up in her own voice.

“Anna.” Kristoff cuts her sentence short. Reaching out to hold her hand. Eyes pleading and begging her to listen. To know.

“I never stopped writing to you, Anna.”

It’s sincere. And it’s genuine. And Anna wants to believe him more than anything in the world. But she thinks about the months, the years that went by, with radio silence. She left in May and the last letter she ever received was that August. She knows, she’s got them stowed away in a box under her bed. She’s dead them over and over. Even the last few, which always seemed a little sad. She just could never figure out why.

“August 13th. The year I left. That was the date of the last letter you sent. Kristoff I wrote to you for years, you stopped answering I don’t understand,” Anna pauses. Her voice catching in her throat, tears finally starting to fall. And they don’t stop. She wants to run away. All the sadness is climbing in again, and in the one place that was untouched by sorrow.

She feels a sob run through her body when suddenly she’s being lifted into someone’s arms. And being held. Kristoff’s arms wrapped around her, his chin atop her head, whispering soothing words to her as she cries. As if it were all the most natural thing in the world.

It takes a little while but eventually the tears subside, but once they do, she feels a soft kiss pressed against her temple. And her heart melts. Kristoff helps her out of the tree, brushing leaves out of her hair as he does so, and letting his hand hover just over hers.

“Can I,” There’s a pause, and a calculated glance in her direction, making a decision. “I need to show you something.” And he holds out his hand and despite the ache in her chest she follows. Let’s his hand wrap around hers and float to wherever they’re going. If she dreams hard enough she can imagine it as if it were long ago. The two of them running away together. But that hurts too much. Anna knows. She’s learned. Her father would tell her all the time in his letters. Wishing only wounds the heart. Be realistic Anna.

She’s only a little thrown off when they end up in Kristoff’s room. It’s small, hardly decorated and very bare bones. But it still makes her eyes widen and cheeks redden. He’s crawling under his bed, reaching for something obviously hidden away and pulls out a wooden box. It’s decorated with obviously hand carved sunflowers. Kristoff doesn’t open the box. Instead he places it in Anna’s arms, and kisses her cheek. It’s soft and featherlight — barely there and full of uncertainty.

“I promise you. I never stopped writing.”

It’s only then that Anna realizes the sun has rose. There’s bells ringing. The work day for the staff has begun and people downstairs are calling his name and a million different jobs he has to get started on. He has to go.

But as he turns out the door, just before he leaves he stops.

“Promise me something?”

Anna nods.

“Stay until the end of the week. Just until then. If you still feel you have no reason to stay here, then you can part ways forever but please. Don’t go yet.”

She holds the little wooden box close to her chest and nods. I’ll stay. I’ll stay for you. She doesn’t say it. But she knows Kristoff hears it.

Anna’s sure she can’t possibly cry anymore today. The sun has only just rose and she still hasn’t even looked inside the little wooden box when she sets it on her bed in her own room. Her eyelids feel heavy and suddenly she thinks maybe now, exhausted beyond belief, she’ll be able to sleep. But there’s a knock on the door. And Elsa walks inside, eyes tired and red and hair a frazzled mess. Anna’s relatively sure she’s still in the same clothes from the funeral yesterday, but in her sisters hands is a hat box. One of their mothers. It’s from a shop In the coty. One of her favorites. The box is cream and faded and the papering is pealing ever so slightly.

��Elsa?”

“I couldn’t sleep... last night I couldn’t sleep. So I started cleaning out father’s office, and I found something. And I believe it belongs to you.” She hands her sister the hat box with trembling hands.

“Elsa, this is mother’s hat box this isn’t, this couldn’t possibly belong to me. I don’t even like hats.”

That last part makes Elsa chuckle, as Anna hoped it would.

“I thought so too. But I, forgive me, I opened it. And it wasn’t mother’s hat. This belongs to you. And I think it needs to be soemthing you see, all on your own.” Anna tries to protest but elsa waves her off. “Besides, I need to sleep, just talk to me about it after you open it? I want to know how you’re feeling.”

And with that the door clicks shut. Leaving Anna alone with two boxes.

She opens her mother’s hat box first. Expecting something her mother or father left behind for her. Soemthing with the house or anything to do with their family. It feels far less terrifying than finally knowing the truth between her and Kristoff. This is simple. Only the moment she lifts the lid off she knows that’s not true.

They’re letters. Envelopes yellowed and aged from years ago. A decade. All addressed to Kristoff Bjorgman. From Anna Arendelle. There’s stamps and postage marks from all different European countries. There’s hearts and flowers doodled on the backs of a few. Different scripts and fonts and you can tell the ones written and addressed in a hurry and those that were titled and the i’s dotted and t’s crossed with extra care.

But Anna doesn’t even have to examine all of them to know. She knows because she wrote them. These are her letters to Kristoff. From the first few years. When she had continued to send them. Despite his silence.

An array of emotions bubble up inside. Confusion and anger and betrayal and frustration and sadness and heartache. Oh god, so much heartache.

But there’s one envelope inside her mother’s hat box not addressed to Kristoff. But addressed to her. It’s a new envelope. Stark white against the display from the past, with Anna written neatly across the front. Her father’s hand writing.

Her hands shake as she opens it, and as she reads, suddenly the world feels clear.

Her father apologizes. He knows it’s too late, that a simple letter from his death bed won’t fix the hurt and pain he’s caused her. Even if she is unaware of it. He explains how serious image was, for the business, for their high society lifestyle. Especially after her mother died. The fact that one of his daughters would take over the family business rather than a son was glaring enough to friends and business colleagues. The idea that his other daughter would marry a farm boy? A servant? It was unthinkable. They advised him to send her away. Let the distance and time dissolve of her little crush. It was the only way. He apologizes. Because now, as he laid tbere ill, he knows he was wrong. He speaks of her mother and how when he fell in love with her he would’ve given up everything, fortune and wealth and fame and title, just to hold her hand. Status means nothing when you’re in love. He says he didn’t realize. How serious her affections were, and how serious Kristoff’s were in return. He thought he made the right choice. Sending her away, hiding the letters, returning Kristoff’s to the stoop of the servants house whenever he tried to mail one. He thought he was doing what was best. But he wasn’t. He speaks of time and last wishes and how none of it matters without love. He tells her in his final written words. To fight for love. To follow her dream.

And Anna cries. She cries harder and longer than she has in years. Because now she knows. It wasn’t her fault. And it wasn’t Kristoff’s. And no one gave up. No one lost hope. And she knows, she’s certain of what she’ll find in the box from Kristoff. And suddenly, nothing about this seems scary.

Her hands still tremble when she unlatches the lid to Kristoff’s wooden box. Her eyes still fill with tears when she tears open the first envelope. Dated just a week after the last letter she ever received. One day she will read them all. Every letter he saved in the box despite the fact that he no longer had any reason to hope she loved him.

But for now she reads the first one. A letter from ten years ago. Written in Kristoff’s messy scrawl but every emotion so easily pressed into the page. She wants to read the whole thing. Savor every last word. But her brain jumps ahead. Only able to focus on the last sentence. She reads it over and over again until she’s sure that she’s read it write. That her eyes do not betray her. It’s there it’s real. He truly wrote will you marry me in a letter.

And when it finally registers. That he wrote that. That he meant that all those years ago, and surely still means it now.

Well Anna can hardly slow down running out onto the estate to find him. He’s on the entire other side of a field when she finds him. He’s trimming trees and he’s so obviously focused on his work and Anna could easily continue walking and say this face to face. Inches from each other.

Instead she stands and shouts it across the field. The closest thing she’s got to shouting it from the rooftops.

“KRISTOFF BJORGMAN WILL YOU MARRY ME”

She’s never seen him run so fast.

And when he reaches her, lifting her up and kissing her well, it feels like she’s floating.