I know, I know; I still have stories that have been on hold forever that I need to finish, but after seeing Frozen three times, this just came to me. I wrote part of it during Lit. class (shh, don't tell…), and then I decided to finish it in honor of my "big sis," who is currently sick, and like Elsa does not know how to take a break when she needs it. The council is just something I made up––Arendelle seems like a pretty progressive place, and it seemed like their ruler would have a committee of advisers. My apologies in advance for the excessively sentimental ending.

Elsa knew something was not quite right when she woke feeling chilled. It would not be strange for most people to wake up shivering in a room that was full of ice and snow, but for Elsa the cold was familiar and comfortable. But this morning it felt as though the cold had seeped into her bones and was chilling her from the inside out. Her mouth was strangely dry; she swallowed, and winced at the sharp pain in the back of her throat. If anything good had come of her years of isolation, it was that she had not gotten sick often. She could not even remember the last time she had really been ill. But there was no denying it now; she was most definitely not well. Only one thing to do… She clutched at the blankets she had kicked off during the night, and wrapped them tightly around herself, burying her face in the pillow.

Curled up like this, she failed to hear the knock on her door. "Your Majesty?" she heard Kai calling. Elsa cleared her throat, and managed to croak out a weak "Yes?"

"I'm sorry to wake you, your Majesty, but you remember you're meeting with your council in a half hour."

"Do I have to?" Elsa groaned.

"Well, um, it is your first meeting with them as queen. They all have important business to discuss with you."

"Tell them…I'll be right there," said Elsa. She pushed the covers aside and sat up. Her head was spinning; she pressed a hand to her forehead, and felt her skin burning with a dry heat. Why today, of all days, did she have to be sick?

She glanced at her reflection in the long mirror at the foot of her bed. She was pretty sure it would be inappropriate to appear before the council in her nightgown with her hair falling out of a disheveled braid. She put on a dark blue dress and twisted her hair into a bun at the nape of her neck. It was not her best look, but it would have to do: she lacked the energy to attempt anything fancier. She slipped on the nearest pair of shoes at hand, and was about to head downstairs when she saw the doorknob coated with frost beneath her hand. She grabbed a pair of gloves from a dresser drawer––she had been getting better at controlling her powers, but sickness made everything harder, and she worried she would not have the energy to keep them under control. Even though her powers no longer had to be kept secret, she doubted the council would appreciate a snowfall in the middle of their meeting.

Gerda met her at the door of the room where council meetings were always held. "Are you all right, your Majesty?" she asked. Elsa swallowed, and nodded. Gerda gave her a skeptical look, but she said nothing. She opened the door, and stood respectfully to the side as Elsa entered the room. The council members stood behind their chairs around a long table that seemed almost to run the length of the room. They all bowed as Elsa entered. Kai pulled back the ornate chair at the head of the table; she was all too glad to sit down. The council members all followed suit. They all looked to her expectantly, and Kai cleared his throat. Elsa swallowed. "Thank you all for coming," she began. She was unsure what to say, and her throat was hurting worse by the minute. "I'm sure we all have much to discuss, so let's start with the, um, Prime Minister," she said quickly. The Prime Minister rose from his seat and bowed. Elsa poured herself a glass of water from the pitcher Gerda had set in front of her seat. She tried to listen to what the Prime Minister was saying, but it was hard to concentrate when all she wanted to do was crawl back to bed.

An hour later, Elsa had emptied the water pitcher, and her throat still ached. It felt as though the walls were closing in, squeezing all the air out of the long, narrow room. "What do you think, your Majesty?" asked one of the council members––Elsa could not recall at the moment exactly what his title was. "Oh, um…" Elsa cleared her throat, but it was no use. "I think," she said, trying to sound as authoritative as she possibly could, "that we should all take some time to think about your…proposition. The meeting is adjourned."

"But your Majesty, we've hardly started to––"

"We will take a recess," said Elsa, "Please excuse me."

She made as dignified an exit as she could. Once the door to the room was closed behind her, she stumbled down the corridor, bracing herself with one hand against the wall, to another door that led down a short flight of stone steps into the garden. She stopped to take a breath of the warm September air. That was some relief at least from the stuffy council chamber. She collapsed onto a low stone bench, propped her elbows on her knees, and dropped her head wearily into her hands.

"Hi, Elsa!" piped a cheerful voice. Elsa lifted her head slightly, and saw Olaf standing in front of her, waving one of his twig arms. "Hey, Olaf," she said. Olaf tilted his head to one side, peering up into her face. "What's the matter?" he asked, "You look sad."

"I'm not sad," said Elsa, "I'm just not feeling well."

"Aw…" said Olaf, frowning sadly, "Is there anything I can do?" Elsa shook her head. "No thanks; I just need to rest."

"You do that," said Olaf. He patted her knee with his tiny hand. "You just sit there and get some rest, and I'll…oh my gosh, Elsa, you're melting!"

"What?"

"It's okay, it's okay, don't panic," said Olaf, "Nothin' to worry about, we'll just, um––ooh, maybe Kristoff can get you some ice! I'll go ask him, just sit tight––"

"Olaf," said Elsa, taking hold of his arm, "What are you talking about?" Olaf pointed to her forehead. "You're, um, melting," he said. Elsa put her hand up to her forehead; drops of sweat dotted her brow, sticking wisps of hair to her skin. She wiped her forehead with her sleeve, and smiled weakly at the anxious little snowman. "Olaf, listen to me," she said gently, "I am not melting. I'm sweating. It happens when people start to get too hot."

"But it's not that hot outside," said Olaf.

"No, but I've got a fever, which makes you hot from the inside out. See?" Elsa bent down and touched Olaf's hand to her flushed cheek. "Whoa! I didn't know people could get that warm," the snowman exclaimed, "Are you gonna be okay?"

"Yeah, I'll be fine," Elsa sighed. She knew it was not as bad as she felt. Olaf paced thoughtfully. "Ooh!" he exclaimed, "Do you wanna share my cloud?"

Elsa was surprised she had not thought of that. A little snow would be very welcome just now, but she barely had the energy to stay awake, much less conjure up a flurry. "That would be wonderful," she said. Olaf hopped onto the bench beside her. "There, now," he said, "you just relax, and we'll have you cool and comfy in no time." Elsa leaned against him, back to back, as the little gray cloud floated above both their heads. Soft, cool snowflakes fell gently on her hot face. She closed her eyes, and breathed out a deep sigh. "Thank you, Olaf," she whispered.

"…feverish…"

"…how long…"

"Poor dear, why didn't she say anything?"

"Is she gonna be okay?"

"Yes, Olaf, she'll be fine. She just needs to sleep some more."

That last voice sounded like Anna. Elsa opened her eyes. Her sister was bending over her, pressing a cool, damp cloth to her forehead. "Anna…?" The sound that actually came out of Elsa's mouth was more of a groan than a name, but it bought a slight smile to her sister's face. "Shh, don't strain your voice," Anna chided, "Gerda made you some tea. Do you think you can sit up and drink it?" Elsa nodded weakly, but she had a hard time trying to lift her head. "Here, I'll help you," said Anna. She slipped her hand beneath Elsa's head and guided the teacup to her lips. Elsa looked around, and realized she was lying in bed, in her own room. "What…how did I…?" she rasped.

"The council started to worry when you didn't come back to the meeting," Anna explained. "Gerda went looking for you, and found you passed out on the garden bench with Olaf, covered in snow."

"The council…" Elsa groaned.

"Don't worry," said Anna, "When I told them you weren't feeling well, they were really nice about it and they said they'd reschedule it."

"How did…?" Elsa gestured to the bed.

"Kristoff carried you up," Anna explained, "And then he carried me down the hall, because I was teasing him, saying I was jealous he carried you and not me, but I didn't make him carry me all the way downstairs, 'cause it's more fun to slide anyway––and then I talked to the council, and Gerda tea, and there's some ice chips too, if you want them––Kristoff's idea––and, um…yeah, that's pretty much it. I figured we'd better just let you sleep."

"And you've been here…how long?" Elsa asked.

Anna shrugged. "I dunno, pretty much all afternoon." She put the teacup down on the bedside table and rearranged the blankets over Elsa, making sure she was warm enough. "Why didn't you tell anybody you felt bad?" she asked.

"It wasn't a big deal," said Elsa, "I had important things to do; I didn't have time to be sick."

"Well, even the queen gets sick sometimes," said Anna. "I…I was really worried, you know. I can't remember the last time I saw you sick. I was scared that…I didn't want to lose you. Not again."

Tears glistened in the corners of Anna's eyes. Elsa clasped her hand. "I won't leave you," she whispered, "I promise."

Anna nodded, swallowing her tears. She bent down and kissed Elsa's forehead. Elsa wrapped her arms around Anna, pulling her into a hug. "I love you, little sister," she said.