Title: Symbol
Fandom: Frozen
Characters: Elsa
Word count: 633
Rating: G
Disclaimer: The characters and situations portrayed here are not mine, they belong to Walt Disney Studios Motion Pictures. This is a fan authored work and no profit is being made. Please do not archive this story without my permission.
Author’s Notes: Considering how Elsa can literally give life to snow, I don't find it too much of a stretch that she might generally embody familiar objects with some sort of personality... Also, when she's not under all that pressure during the movie she comes across as at least a little geeky-awkward, and so I thought it's a quirk that works.
Summary: Elsa made many mistakes, but this one she might be able to put right.

~*~
In a fit of overwhelming freedom and soul-destroying despair, Elsa throws her crown away. It sails through the air and disappears in a flurry of snow, never to bother her again - or so she thinks at the time. But after everything is over she is still a queen, and so she goes to look for it.

She begins back at her ice palace, which is still standing although the snow around it is almost gone, melted by the summer sun. Standing in that same spot where she threw away the symbol of her right and her duty to rule she calls on her memories, turning her head as she pictures how easily it flew away with the wind. She follows its direction, irrationally afraid that it doesn't want her to find it.
"I just... needed to be myself," she explains to it as she walks. "You were part of Queen Elsa, the person I always had to be. When I put you on it meant that I had to lock myself away even more, so no-one would see." She pauses, halfway down a set of ice-stairs leading down into the valley below, and caresses the banister thoughtfully with a bare hand.
"I think I hated you almost as much as my gloves."

Her thoughts return to a much earlier time, when that same crown embodied nothing but positive emotions: pride, excitement, awe, and a promise for the future. When she was little she wore it with pleasure, even though it was almost too big for her then. It was strange, she mused, how it had never seemed like a burden until after the accident, when every time she wore it it somehow became heavier.
"I know it was never your fault. I used to love wearing you, even when I didn't need to."

Down in the valley summer is at its fullest. The ground is covered with flowers and long, green grass, obscuring her view. She runs her hands through the green carpet, marvelling at the sensation even as she worries that she'll never find her crown again.
"Do you remember the fun we had? Please don't leave me alone now, when I can feel like that again! I've never been to court without you - except for yesterday, and that really didn't feel right."
She knows she's being silly, kneeling in the middle of nowhere and pleading with her crown to return, but she doesn't much care. Besides, Kristoff talks to his reindeer, which is almost as strange.

"I'm sorry," she says at last, not knowing what else to do. "I really am - I was confused and angry about so many things, and none of them were your fault. Please, I don't think I can find you on my own."
Although she feels like crying this is nothing new. She's been like that ever since that day - almost a week ago already, she realises with faint surprise. Instead she draws a deep, shuddering breath and simply stays put, her eyes scanning her surroundings for any sign of her crown. Eventually the evening draws near and she gets up to return home, tilting her head back to catch the last rays of the sun before it disappears behind the nearby trees. In that moment a gleam catches her eye, and she rushes toward it.

The crown! Hidden under a bramble bush it has been almost invisible until the light struck it, and now Elsa pulls it out and holds it aloft, dancing around the clearing.
"Oh, thank you!"
Stopping, she cradles it in her hands, drinking in the sight of her relatively simple but immensely important crown.
"Thank you for letting me find you."

When she places it on her head, it feels lighter than it has been for years.