Chapter Text
The train’s long whistle marked her time; through the steam surfaced and faded dozens of commuters. Sometimes, the station’s workers and conductors would turn to see her get up her bench and leave the platform as the great steamer slowly churned forward, her gloved hands demurely clasping her purse, her fine features shadowed by her rouge brim hat. Alongside the hurrying passengers and tourists, her silhouette too would disappear in the crowd.
Her presence was hauntingly constant: the station’s chief of staff argued she had seen her for over ten years now. Every week, the tall, elegant woman would stride in a few minutes before the train from Cherbourg pulled up the platform and she would wait, sitting on the iron bench closest to the engine.
Some speculated she was a widow, her sanity thin as grief made her wait her long-dead husband each week at the station, but in reality no one knew for sure. The blonde lady – of high cheekbones and snow-pale skin – would greet back anyone who approached, yet refused to engage in even the most casual of conversations.
At least her demeanor made a single thing clear: she waited for someone; she had for quite some time.
Every week, the Cherbourg train would arrive and leave, and so would she, her face and icy stare impassive and calm. No one noticed the way she desperately gripped her purse’s handles, nor the longing hidden in her eyes.
-ooo-
Elsa hoped. What else could she do?
The few friendships that remained had long given up on trying making her see reason, or so they argued.
“It’s been so many years, dear…” Gerda had said countless times; each time Elsa ignored her, the old woman would shake her head, pity clear on her gentle, worried stare.
She knew it foolish, of course. She never argued back, for they could never understand. At many times she would get lost in thought, grateful that so many details of that blessed winter remained alive inside her memory’s rooms.
Flurrying snow-flecks that dropped and clung to her wavy, bright auburn hair. Her full, teasing smile as she tugged at Elsa’s scarf, leaning ever-closer till the tip of their noses barely touched, warm breath washing over her cheeks… Anna’s tantalizing, brushing lips… lovely reddened ears and nose.
She could see her twirling and laughing between the woods, the shoulders of her navy-blue coat covered in snow.
Winter’s white-haired mantle eventually dwindled, and like the promise of spring in the blossoming countryside, Anna vowed to come back.
She still remembered the dusty, abandoned room, the cold that had forced them – lured them – to stay the night together. “Wait for me,” Anna had whispered as they lay, their bodies entangled as one. And so Elsa did.
She had seen her off at the platform, looking at her compartment and managing just a weak wave as the train pulled away; in the last instant, the small window opened and Anna’s tear stricken face poked out, loudly yelling Elsa’s name.
It had been twelve years since.
-ooo-
Heavy coats and furs had replaced sun hats and vests, and around this time of year, Lady Elsa had exchanged her crimson dresses for her own long, white coat and a sky-blue wide brim hat, but aside from that, she remained steadfast on her weekly watch.
The train whistled as it entered the platform; above, grey clouds conspired of snow. After one last, breath-like hiss, the lustrous machine stopped and settled, and soon the usual yells and murmurs flooded as people rushed in and out the shining doors. Elsa’s tired eyes scanned the growing crowd.
“Sunday, the first train from Cherbourg,” Anna had promised all those years back. A small voice prickled in the back of her head… whispering the same old argument. She hadn’t come back… why would this day be any different? Elsa chased those thoughts away. She trusted what she had seen in Anna’s blue-sea eyes: untouched by lies or deception, she knew she would keep her promise.
The weak, grey mists of smoke dispersed slowly, and as she stood up, Elsa saw one last passenger get off the train. The woman carried a small bag in her hands, her gaze overlooking the platform.
Her legs felt weak. Elsa stared, unblinking. She was surprised – but she shouldn’t have been – as a soft whimper climbed up her throat, her hand uselessly trying to stifle it.
Anna’s smile was subdued, somber.
It was apologetic, Elsa realized.
Her red hair had grown long, carefully treaded in a crown-like braid above her ears, the rest cascading freely over the back of her jacket.
Once she approached – Elsa’s heart aching with each step – she saw the wear and strain surrounding her eyes. She saw untold pains and scarring tales, she saw a thousand possible reasons for a delay years long. But she also saw the same youthful glee, the same pull of her lips into a lopsided smile.
The train conductor, mouth agape, looked as both women finally rushed forward, meeting head-on in a desperate kiss. Soon, many of the old workers gathered around to watch as well as the tall, blonde lady took the newcomer in her arms and lifted her while laughing – the sound full of joy and marvel –, spinning her around before clutching her lover’s freckled cheeks again, meeting their lips once more.