Northern Lights - gift for Karolina
Happy Late Holidays, I’m sorry this took so long (╥﹏╥)
***
Northern Lights
One second, Anna is staring into the food on her plate, desperately trying to tune out the increasing noise. The next, it all goes to hell.
The first thing that breaks through her haze is the sound of the utensils falling on the floor. Then, the chair being pushed away so hard it almost hits the wall behind it. Then, the blurred mess of black and blue rushing out of the room.
She opens her mouth and says something, she’s not sure what, she’s not sure if it makes any sense but she doesn’t have time to think because her mother is already rising to protest, and her father is yelling at her uncle and she needs to get out of there and find Elsa right now.
She runs out of the dining room and follows the carpeted corridor to the front of the rental cabin, where the door is not quite yet shut, and she catches it just before the latch clicks in and she has to struggle with the old mechanism.
“Elsa!” she yells out as soon as the cold winter night hits her in the face, and the blurred shape stops, then turns around.
She’s crying, she’s furious, and Anna practically jumps down the short flight of stairs to get over to her, fighting her instinct to envelop her in a bone crushing hug.
“I can’t fucking stand it there,” she hisses angrily, clearly also fighting her own instinct to scream out in frustration. “I-I just need to get away— if I hear one more word from Fred I’m going to commit a crime of some sort.”
Anna nods in understanding, then lets out a hot breath and lets a shiver overtake her. Elsa’s eyes scan up and down her body, taking in her bare legs and arms, her definitely not winter dress, her high heels almost fully buried in the fresh snow.
“You should go back inside,” she mutters, tugging at her own cardigan, as if to prove a point that she was better dressed to be outside right now. “You’re gonna freeze out here.”
Anna shakes her head vigorously in protest. “I don’t want to. I wanna go with you.”
“Anna…”
“Nuh-uh, I’ve made up my mind,” she asserts. “They’re having a full blown screaming match in there and I don’t think I can take it anymore, either. I was already just completely spacing out and waiting for any excuse to leave.”
For a moment, Elsa just stands there, looking at her and considering, the only sound coming from her a soft jingle of the keys in her hand. Then, with a defeated sigh, she wipes the angry tears off her cheeks and says, “I’ll go get the car closer so you don’t have to walk through the snow. Can you go back and grab our coats?”
***
The gleam of the headlights makes every snowflake sparkle as they slowly make their way down the meandering road. In the otherwise complete darkness around them, it almost feels like they drove through a wormhole that will, hopefully, take them to the nearest town just a few miles from the cabin.
That, or Anna just had so much wine so far this evening that her head is spinning and her veins are buzzing, and the world feels just a little more four dimensional than usual.
The phone vibrating in her lap takes her mind off the dancing snowflakes.
“It’s mom.” It’s the third time she’s called since they left, even though it couldn’t have been more than 10 minutes. The car isn’t even properly warmed up yet. “Should I pick up?”
A soft shrug is the only sign that Elsa even heard what she said.
She grabs the phone and turns it upside down so the accept call button can’t bother her anymore.
“Do you have anywhere you wanna go?” She tries for a change, too bothered by the now overwhelming silence. “Or are we just driving aimlessly?”
“Just driving,” Elsa’s voice still bears a trace of anger, and Anna needs to remind herself she’s not angry at her. “I just…need to clear my head, and then we can go back.”
Anna nods, though she’s not sure Elsa can even see it from the corner of her eye, not with how dead-set she is on staring directly ahead with her hands gripping the steering wheel like it’s uncle Fred’s throat.
Or she’s just looking into it too hard. The road is difficult, not made any easier by the snowfall, and Elsa is just focusing on not driving them into a ditch.
Another, shorter vibration makes her pick the phone back up.
“Text from Rapunzel,” she says, casting quick glances between the screen and the windshield to make sure her dinner stays inside her. “She says she’s really sorry for her dad’s big mouth and asks when we’re gonna be back.”
Elsa huffs. “Tell her she shouldn’t have to apologize for her father, she’s not responsible for his actions.” She takes a sharper turn out of a side road just a little too fast and Anna feels the wine slosh in her stomach. “And I don’t know, just—just tell her not to worry, we won’t be long. And ask her to tell mom the same.”
Anna quickly taps almost word for word what Elsa dictated, hitting send just in time to avoid looking down during another turn.
“Now put your phone down, you’re gonna be sick.”
“I’m fine,” she lies, taking a deep breath in hopes of fighting the vertigo. “You’re not driving that fast.”
“No, but we’re about to hit that series of turns, and I can see you’re a bit more than just tipsy. I don’t want you to throw up in the car.”
Anna opens her mouth to protest, but just as she turns to face Elsa they hit the first turn, and the contents of her stomach swirl around dangerously.
She falls back into the soft embrace of the car seat with an annoyed huff.
A few disturbingly quiet and rocky minutes later, her phone vibrates again.
“Leave it,” Elsa’s voice cuts through the hum of the engine before she can even reach out for it. “They’re fine, they can deal with it.” Despite the harsh tone, she puts a comforting hand on Anna’s knee. It’s cold, and sends a shiver up her thigh, but still Anna wishes she could compact her entire body into the cup of Elsa’s hand. “Keep your eyes on the road.”
She nods, mouth suddenly too dry to speak. Her eyes transfix on the sparkling swirls outside again while her mind transfixes on the small, but overpowering tether she has to Elsa now.
She’s only marginally aware of the moment the contact is broken, and quiet, barely even audible music starts; the warm air blasting in her face from the heater, the soft rocking of the car and the six glasses of wine take over her, and god even knows how much rum take over her. Every inch they cut through the mesmerizing blizzard outside, the stress of the evening leaves her body, bit by little bit.
She doesn’t even know when her own hand shoots out to grab Elsa’s, where it’s enthusiastically welcomed, their fingers intertwining atop Elsa’s thigh.
The slow strokes of Elsa’s thumb across her skin are the final ingredient. Anna’s eyelids grow heavier with every breath she takes, and though she tries to fight it, she soon dozes off to a dreamless sleep.
***
When she opens her eyes again, it’s because Elsa’s touching her cheek; the world is light now, and instantly her chest tightens because something is off, but a quick scan of her surroundings reveals the bright, cold lights of a gas station.
For a moment, she’s not even sure why they’re there; the events of the past few hours— days, really, are just a jumble of images in her mind. Slowly, she constructs a somewhat coherent timeline, and when she finally gets to where they are now, she moves her wide, still confused eyes to look at her sister.
“I just need to gas up,” Elsa says when she assumes Anna is awake enough to understand her. “I wanted to let you sleep, but I also didn’t want you to wake up and freak out when I’m not here.”
Anna nods with a hum, and leans into the touch, earning a sly smile in return. “Don’t be long,” she whines, and internally blames the sleepiness for making her such a little bitch. “And can you get me something to drink?”
Elsa laughs, then pets her on the head before promptly leaving the car, slamming the door shut behind her.
Suddenly, Anna realizes just how loud the outside world was, as she’s left in the lonely silence of Elsa’s car.
She picks up her phone—she makes note of the low battery level, but there’s not really anything she can do about it, not when she so carelessly ran out of the cabin without grabbing the charging cable—and checks the notifications.
Five new messages and as many missed calls. Elsa had to ignore them really hard while she was knocked out.
She opens the first message and groans. A passive aggressive text from uncle Fred is the last thing she needs to be reading right now, and she immediately decides she’s not even going to mention this to Elsa. She scrolls past, not dignifying it with a response, to the next few; she takes a moment to send a quick ‘We’re okay, we’ll be back soon.’ to Rapunzel and her mom.
For the first time since Elsa left, Anna’s brain registers the hour. It’s already past 1 a.m., and now she’s not exactly so sure the messages she’d just sent were any close to the truth.
Before she can worry about it, the driver door flies open and in comes a flurry of snowflakes that bite into the bare skin of her ankles and calves, followed quickly by Elsa.
She mutters something about the price of the gas, but Anna’s brain is too tired to try and decipher the precise words through the howl of the wind.
Finally settled into the seat, Elsa closes the door behind her and the noise dies down. “I got you some water and an energy drink,” she says, passing the bottle and the painfully cold can over to her. “I figured you could use some pick up, you’re looking a bit pale.”
Anna gives her a brief smile, before placing the bottle between her legs and the can carefully down on the floor; she forces herself to keep the hiss of discomfort at bay when it touches her ankle. “Thank you. I’m sorry for falling asleep before.”
Her head snaps back to Elsa when she hears the crack of a can, and she watches her take a sip of her coke. “It’s really fine,” she says after a moment, but Anna can’t really tell for sure the tone of her voice. “It gave me some time to think and fume in peace, I didn’t want to accidentally be mean to you—”
“You weren’t mean to me,” she protests quickly. “And even if you were, I’d have known it wasn’t because of me.”
Elsa’s cold hand on her knee shuts her up. “I know you’d have known that.” Her voice is calm, but there’s a certain urgency to it. “I still didn’t want to be mean to you. I don’t wanna take my frustration with Fred on you, you don’t deserve that.”
Her hand gives a soft squeeze, and Anna’s mouth runs dry again. She picks up the water bottle and hastily takes a big gulp.
It’s only a few seconds later that Elsa sits back straight in her seat with both her hands on the steering wheel, but Anna feels like the skin just above her knee had been branded.
“Do you want me to drive back?”
The question catches her off guard; there’s something unsure in Elsa’s voice, something almost like a plea.
“Do you want to go back?”
A moment passes. Then, Elsa shakes her head.
“Then I don’t want you to.”
“Are you sure?” She sends her a puzzled look. “We’re already quite a bit away and it’s almost half past one. It’ll take a good while to drive there.”
Anna sighs. “I’m sure, Elsa. If you don’t feel like you can go back now, then I don’t want you to force yourself.”
“I just feel like I kidnapped you.”
“I literally chased after you and pretty much begged you to take me.”
Elsa rolls her eyes. “You didn’t beg,” she claims, but to Anna it still honestly feels like she all but did so out loud. Then, her face softens, and she runs her fingers along Anna’s knuckles. “But I am glad you came with me. It really helped me calm down.”
“I was passed out most of the time—”
“Having you near was enough.”
At that, Anna shuts up, trying not to think too hard about the rush of hot blood to her cheeks and ears, and she lets Elsa buckle her seatbelt. Even if the absence of her hand now feels colder than the snowstorm outside.
***
Elsa’s not ready to go back—which would imply, at this hour, probably having to sneak in the cabin and risk waking people up; or worse, run into anyone still awake and be berated on the spot—and Anna doesn’t have even a quarter of a heart to ask to end their little impromptu road trip, so when they pull up to the highway, they end up taking the way opposite of where their cabin is.
At least, she thinks it’s the opposite. It’s not like she’d watched the road carefully through her tightly shut eyelids, even if she wasn’t fully asleep as Elsa thought, and her sense of direction is not the best. She’s not concerned enough to ask, though, worried that even saying anything at all would make Elsa turn around and take them back.
In all honesty, she’s really enjoying herself much more than she was back at the cabin, and with far less alcohol, too.
She hopes so is Elsa. Judging by the little smile that ghosts over her lips now and then and the quiet singing along to their blended playlist, she might just be right.
***
Inevitably, of course, her fatigue and the ever present urge to fall asleep as soon as she gets warm and cozy and the car rocks her just right take over, and she’s knocked out. Again.
By the time she wakes up, however, there are no harsh lights of a gas station, no glare of the highway lamps, not even a lone, but overwhelming supernova of an oncoming car’s high beams. It’s as dark as it gets, and their car is almost completely still, save only for the heating.
She turns to the driver’s seat afraid Elsa would be gone, too.
“You’re awake.”
She can’t be quite sure, but judging by her tone, Elsa was napping as well. She must have been roused by the rustle of Anna’s coat when she turned.
“Where are we?” she whispers, noticing with some amusement that Elsa apparently unbuckled her seat when they stopped. Which also probably meant they’d been there for a while. “Did I sleep for long?”
Elsa hums, then her face is lit briefly by the gleam of her phone. “About an hour or so. It’s quarter past three now.” She puts the phone back down on her thigh and shifts so that she’s facing Anna. “We’re just far enough from the highway that there’s no light pollution.”
Cryptic, but in a way that sparks Anna’s curiosity rather than chills her veins. Elsa must have noticed—she’d always been able to see in the dark much better than Anna—her raised brows, because she lets out a short, quiet laugh before she continues, “you actually woke up just a little while before the alarm I set for us. I got a notification from the geomagnetic activity app when you dozed off and I thought— hell, why shouldn’t we, you know?”
Anna takes a moment to load all the new information in. “Geomagnetic?” she asks, racking her brain for the definition. Then, the one synapse that holds it connects to the mainframe, and her chest implodes with excitement. “Wait, like— Northern Lights?”
“Yeah.”
“Here?”
“Yes.”
“Like, right now, here?”
Elsa laughs, louder than before. “Yes, right now, here,” she repeats, her face lighting up once again with a notification from her phone as well as with a beaming smile. “I thought you’d like to see it.”
She offers no more explanation, simply puts her reclined seat back up and reaches for her coat in the backseat; Anna looks out the windshield, but it’s still dark as ever when Elsa opens the door to step outside.
“It’s cold as fuck,” she says, quickly throwing her coat on. “But I feel like sitting in the car would dampen the experience.”
Anna nods, and though her body screams at her to stay inside in the warmth, she slides out of her seat as well. She leaves her phone inside to hopefully save the last bit of battery from the cold.
She walks around the car to where Elsa is standing in front of the hood; now with a wider angle to turn her head around, she can see Elsa chose a nice, almost cozy spot to park their car just off the road. With trees on both sides, but a wide opening overlooking a field of some kind right ahead of them.
“When’s it gonna start?” she asks, huddling closer to her sister in a vain attempt to steal some of her heat. “Was that notif a moment ago from the app?”
Elsa nods and hums a quiet ‘mmh’, before looking back down at the clock on her phone. “Roughly five to ten minutes, but it could be a little earlier or later than that.” She leans back on the hood, then looks down at Anna’s feet. Her brows furrow. “Fuck, I— wait here, I’ll be back in a second.”
She trots away to the back of the car, leaving Anna to tremble alone in her spot. Her legs are slowly turning to ice, the feeling in her feet almost gone in just the two minutes or so she’s been standing in the snow.
“I’m such an idiot,” she hears Elsa grumble as she rummages through the trunk. “I should have thought of this before you got out of the car—”
The rest of what she’s saying is muffled as she apparently dives deep inside, and Anna just tries to sink into her coat. She’s still reeling a bit from the alcohol, though the cold is definitely keeping her more awake than the warm car. “Can you also grab my energy drink?”
Elsa’s answer is completely unintelligible, but a few moments later she hears the passenger door open behind her, and then the cold—but now warmer than the air around her—can slides into her coat pocket, just beside her hand.
She looks curiously at Elsa as she throws two huge blankets they usually use for picnics or sudden camp-outs on the roof of the car. Then, without a second’s warning, she all but jumps up on the hood, her winter boots squeaking loudly on the cold metal as Anna’s heart skips a beat or four in shock.
She stares up at Elsa completely dumbfounded for a second, before Elsa bends and reaches her hand out.
“Come on.”
Anna lets out a nervous giggle. “No, thanks, I’m good here.”
“Come on.”
She looks cautiously at the extended hand, now wagging its fingers impatiently. “I-I’m gonna damage the car,” she says hurriedly, lifting a leg out of the snow to point at her heel. “I could scratch or even dent—”
“Anna,” Elsa’s tone makes it clear there is no room for arguing. “Grab my hand before I get back down and just throw you up here.”
With a gulp, Anna does as she’s told.
“Now, put your leg up on the wheel and just—” She grunts when Anna lifts one of her legs, and the other one slips on the ice, but she manages to hold her up. “—just trust me, okay?”
Anna doesn’t even have the time to answer anything before the momentum hits, and Elsa yanks her up; for a moment it feels like they’re both about to lose their balance and eat shit, but somehow both of her feet make it onto the hood. She’s triumphant for all of two seconds before one of her heels wobbles to the side, and she closes her eyes in anticipation of the fall.
That doesn’t come; instead, a steady arm snakes around her waist and keeps her close. “Careful,” Elsa whispers just above her ear, which as far as Anna can imagine is blood red right now, together with her face and shoulders. “Move forward a little, you’re at a slant.” She doesn’t even take the step consciously, her body just moves along with Elsa on its own. “That’s better. I’m gonna let go of you, okay?”
Not trusting her own voice right now, she nods.
Instantly, the absence of Elsa’s arms around her is— it’s nothing. She’s simply cold. It was just nice to be close, because Elsa is warm, and that’s the only reason, nothing else definitely for sure.
She’s just drunk. And tired. And cold. And drunk. And still messed up after the dinner. And standing on top of Elsa’s car like they’re in some teen flick. And drunk, she can’t stress that enough.
She’s so lost in her weird spiral that she doesn’t even notice when Elsa lays out one of the blankets on the roof of the car. She doesn’t really notice when Elsa tells her to sit down, either, or when Elsa gives her a puzzled look.
She does, however, notice Elsa’s hands grabbing her hips to pull her closer again.
“—it’s okay, you won’t fall, I’m holding you,” Elsa’s voice tunes in through the rush of blood in Anna’s ears. At least she’s ascribing Anna’s weird behavior to her fear of heights. That’s one comforting thought amongst the sea of outright perversion in her brain right now. “You just need to turn around and—”
She doesn’t explain, and Anna doesn’t get it on her own either, and what was supposed to be her falling back—which, to be honest, did alert her fear of heights even in her preoccupied state—on the soft blanket turned into her fucking heels (which she will never wear again in winter) slipping underneath her and her falling square on her ass. Between Elsa’s legs.
She wasn’t sure if the sound she let out could be classified as a yelp, but she sure as hell could make a good voice actress for less than safe for work animation.
“A-are you alright?” Elsa asks as she scoots back to let Anna wiggle herself out from between her legs. “Sorry, I didn’t realize it was that slippery— I keep forgetting you’re not wearing winter boots—”
“It’s okay,” Anna manages, surprisingly calm after the total system failure just a minute ago. “I only bruised my ass a little, that’s all.”
They both chuckle (somewhat nervously) and shuffle around until they’re sitting side by side with no risk of either of them falling, sliding or rolling off.
Once Anna’s settled properly, Elsa drapes the second blanket across her frozen legs and pulls an arm around her shoulders.
It’s— well, Anna wouldn’t exactly call it comfortable, but it’s not uncomfortable to sit there, the bottom blanket doing a half-decent job of keeping the cold of the metal roof away from her; once she pulls her knees up a bit and her feet are under the top blanket, it’s leagues better than just out in the wind. She leans her head against Elsa’s shoulder and closes her eyes, just enjoying the moment.
Which might not be the best idea, as her eyelids turn out to be heavy as lead. She should drink that energy drink right about now.
Elsa sighs into her hair. “I’m sorry,” she apologizes again, and though there’s no way she can see it, Anna furrows her brows. “It all seemed much easier in my head. I didn’t think it would be this much of a hassle for you. And the cold— oh, I think it’s gonna be starting soon.”
Anna blinks her eyes open, then looks up to where Elsa’s finger is pointing at the sky. Right, the northern lights. She almost completely forgot about it in her internal turmoil, and it was literally the sole reason they even came here in the first place.
A lone, wispy cloud of greenish light flickers above them briefly before the sky goes dark again.
She reaches into her pocket and grabs the canned energy, then cracks it open and shotguns the whole thing, ignoring Elsa’s snicker.
“You’re irredeemable.”
She huffs. “I just want to be awake for this.”
Whatever Elsa is about to respond dies on her lips as the sky lights up again, this time holding back no punches as it explodes into a show of colors. Greens and pinks mix together above them, chased by a sudden flash of purple. They swirl together like waves, more tangible than a simple light and yet more ethereal than a cloud, like colorful oils mixing together.
Anna’s eyes are glued to the sky, unable to look away even if she wanted to.
“It’s so much brighter than I thought it would be,” she whispers, and only vaguely notes that she can feel Elsa nod in agreement.
Neither of them says anything for the next few minutes.
***
She’s not sure how long they just sat there, watching the wondrous display; the only thing she had to go off was the cold, which by now found its way deep into her bones.
“Anna?”
Elsa’s voice cut through the silent night so suddenly Anna’s head turning to the side almost gives her a whiplash. “Yeah?”
The aurora makes Elsa’s eyes shine in colors Anna’s never seen before.
“You good?”
“Why?”
Those colorful eyes are filled with worry. “You’re shaking,” she says, the arm around Anna’s shoulders tightening. “Like, really hard.” She brings a hand up to cup Anna’s cold jaw, and runs a thumb across her cheek. “And you’re crying.”
Her thumb brushes over her lips and they part, but there’s no words she can say; she watches the lights dance on Elsa’s face with her breath stuck in her chest, her own eyes straining to engrave this image into her retinas forever, her body paralyzed out of her control because all she wants to do right now is to reach out and hold her so tight they mold into one—
Elsa’s worried look deepens before her face turns away from Anna, and the spell is broken. “I shouldn’t have dragged you out here,” she says quietly, Anna’s brain racing to catch up. “You’re cold and tired, I should have taken a hint when you kept falling asleep, I— fuck, it’s already so late I-I don’t even think we’ll make it back before the sunrise.”
Anna reaches for her hand, but it moves away before she has a chance to grab it. “Elsa—”
“I ruined Christmas for you,” she continues, and Anna is reminded that it was, in fact, Christmas Eve last night. “At this rate I don’t even think we’ll make it to the gift opening, not to mention the breakfast—
“Elsa.”
—and if we do we’ll be fucking zomb—”
“Elsa!” she says as loud as she can without outright yelling, and Elsa finally shuts up and looks back at her. Triumphantly, Anna grabs the hand now hanging loosely off of Elsa’s knee. “I don’t care about the gifts, or the breakfast, or whatever else you think that I am concerned about right now.”
Elsa gives her a puzzled look. “But you’re cry—”
“I didn’t even realize I was crying.” Machinally, she runs her other hand to wipe her still damp cheek. “I’m just overwhelmed, a little cold and—”
In love with you, her brain suggests but she quickly shuts it down.
“—really happy to be here with you,” she settles on instead. “I’ve never seen something so— grandeur in my life, and I am really glad I got to share it with the one person I care for the most.”
Elsa blinks, surprised.
“Freezing my ass off is not that much of a price to pay.”
That finally seems to convince her, and her face breaks into a smile that threatens to put Anna into a daze again.
“Thank you for bringing me here.”
Elsa squeezes her hand. “Thank you for coming with me.” She sighs. “I’m still sorry you missed out on all the other stuff, though.”
“I really don’t care about that.” She moves closer, so close that she’s all but straddling Elsa’s thigh. “I just— I love you.” The words are out before she can stop them. “So, so much. As long as we’re together, I don’t care about the rest of the world.”
It… came out a little stronger than she wanted to, but instead of pulling away in discomfort, Elsa allows her to mold to her side. “I love you, too,” she whispers, so quietly that if Anna’s ear wasn’t just a few inches away from her lips she probably wouldn’t hear it.
There’s something in the way she says that simple statement, or the tone of her voice, or the way her other hand is now around Anna’s waist, or the otherworldly lights still flickering above them and across her face, or the chaotic night behind them and still before them.
Something that dares her to act.
Anna suddenly feels brazen like she’s never felt in her life, the voice of reason thrown to the frozen ground below them. Her body moves on its own; her lips lock with Elsa’s in a decidedly non-sisterly way, but instead of alarms blaring in her brain all she can feel is
Just
Content. Safe. Loved. Warm.
She could swear her body stops shaking when the kiss deepens, Elsa’s upper body now turned towards her, the steady hand on her waist pulling her closer until they’re flush against each other and falling backwards on the roof of the car.
When they pull away, there’s no need to talk. She can see everything written out clearly in Elsa’s eyes, now back to the brilliant blue she loves so much. The northern lights are gone, and there’s just enough moonlight in the sky to illuminate the outline of her face.
“We should get in the car,” she says after a moment of comfortable silence. “I’m afraid we might pass out if we just lie here, and I really don’t want you to freeze.”
Anna groans, and earns a soft kiss on her nose.
“Can we just curl up on the backseat and take a nap?” Then, she remembers the world outside of the two of them. “Just don’t let me fall asleep before I message someone and tell them we’re alive.”
Elsa laughs, already getting up—Anna’s needy little inner demon immediately missing the closeness—and jumping off, then holding her arms out invitingly to catch her.
When Anna falls into her arms, and their lips find each other seemingly on their own again, she’s not so sure they’ll be taking a nap in the backseat.
