nixreginam:

They had placed her in a coffin when she was eight, right after
the accident, and each year, they added more and more nails
to the coffin. For certain, her mother’s words added yet another
nail to the coffin. Her hypersensitivity prevented her from ignoring
the fact that her mother did not use the word “we”. A soft sob 
escaped her lips.

   She knew that her father abhorred her powers ; his actions made it clear.
   However, the fact that even her mother knew it broke her. Did he truly
   isolate them for her safety? Or because he feared her? Were the rumors
   about the custom made shackles true then? So many questions swirled
   in her mind and without warning, she collapsed onto the floor.

She just wanted him to love her, all of her.

 Her eyes closed tight and she wrapped her arms around herself
 once more. Her mother wanted to help? How is she helping her
 by standing around and WATCHING her child be in so much pain?
 Elsa vowed that if she had to have a child, she would not do what
 her parents did, what her mother is doing. She will not stand around
 and allow her child to suffer.

            ❝Mama… Mama please!❞

  Silk covered fingers reached out for her mother’s 
  dress as tears continued to fall.

                                            ❝T-talk… talk to him please. Just this once, please!
                                     Allow me more freedom. I-I’ll be a good girl, I swear.
                                     I won’t disappoint him anymore, I promise. I-I’ll impress
                                     the ambassador and he can see that I am so much more
                                     than my powers.❞

Seeing her daughter, her child, collapse before her was
the final straw. Against her better judgement, against what
Elsa had said she wanted for some years now, she fell to
her own knees, and drew the princess to her. One arm snaked
around Elsa’s back while the other hand held her daughter’s
head against her shoulder. Idun couldn’t just keep watching
her plead with her, as if she was a prisoner walking to her
execution, asking for mercy before the axe came down.

     ❝Hush now, I’ll talk with him, love, I will,❞ she murmured,
       stroking blonde hair like she always used to. ❝But you
       don’t disappoint him as it is–and no fighting me about that.
       We just need you to tell us what will help. We may be rulers,
       we may be your parents, but we aren’t mind-readers.❞

Squeezing her eyes shut, the Queen truly wished she had
the power to override her husband’s orders. To fight him,
like she had in the beginning, when she’d seen the misery
caused to both of her children. She wished she was strong
enough to still be the woman who would scream and shout,
hitting out and forcing him to give her her way. But it had
failed. And since then she had grown weaker. And she
hated herself for it. She hated that they had created the
poor, broken girl crying so pitifully because she wanted
her father’s love. 

     ❝Hush now, there there,❞ she murmured, as if Elsa were still
       a little girl. It was all she knew to do. ❝I said I would leave if
       you wanted me to–but I would much rather stay. Whatever
       you want me to do, I shall. Just–just let me help you.

                                                                                               Please.❞