"I--" No, that wasn't a good way to start the sentence; try again. ""It's fine." The brittleness and sudden formality in her tone were far too obvious. Life felt... almost unreal. She was queen, the gates were open, she was up here in an ice castle, being possibly-courted by an old friend, and back at home, Anna wanted to marry a man she'd just met? What had their lives become?
It was snowing again. Big splattery flakes of it that evidently didn't create any snow drifts, on the ice of the castle. She didn't even seem to notice the snow at first, nor its odd tendency to just absorb into her ice. She hadn't noticed the tears, either, but here she was, discovering tears on her own face as she tried to remain calm enough to fight back the quiet snowfall.
"I... do not feel they would accept a queen with magic. You saw what it caused, and we'd only just opened the gates. Just once for the coronation." The coronation. Not my coronation. She'd noticed the slip only after she'd said it. It wasn't how unreal this entire episode seemed, that had caused it, but just that she hadn't wanted the throne. It was their coronation that they demanded of her. She didn't see it as hers because she hadn't wanted it and felt like they hadn't wanted her.
Her tone sounded hushed and brittle, crisp like fall leaves. She seemed deflated, thoughtful and self-conscious. Brooding, she'd certainly done often enough as a child, but she'd faced that brooding mostly outward, back then. She'd wanted to know how others felt, what she could do, how they'd continue together. This was an altogether new way of showing that brooding, almost a ruminating; cognitive gears whirling without as much outward questioning involved. She'd learned how to be alone.
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Date: 2022-07-24 01:16 am (UTC)From:It was snowing again. Big splattery flakes of it that evidently didn't create any snow drifts, on the ice of the castle. She didn't even seem to notice the snow at first, nor its odd tendency to just absorb into her ice. She hadn't noticed the tears, either, but here she was, discovering tears on her own face as she tried to remain calm enough to fight back the quiet snowfall.
"I... do not feel they would accept a queen with magic. You saw what it caused, and we'd only just opened the gates. Just once for the coronation." The coronation. Not my coronation. She'd noticed the slip only after she'd said it. It wasn't how unreal this entire episode seemed, that had caused it, but just that she hadn't wanted the throne. It was their coronation that they demanded of her. She didn't see it as hers because she hadn't wanted it and felt like they hadn't wanted her.
Her tone sounded hushed and brittle, crisp like fall leaves. She seemed deflated, thoughtful and self-conscious. Brooding, she'd certainly done often enough as a child, but she'd faced that brooding mostly outward, back then. She'd wanted to know how others felt, what she could do, how they'd continue together. This was an altogether new way of showing that brooding, almost a ruminating; cognitive gears whirling without as much outward questioning involved. She'd learned how to be alone.