Elsa was sitting at her desk, in a room that was both her study and Anna's bedroom. She was shuffling through the papers that covered the desktop, searching for something, she couldn't remember what. She looked up at Anna who was sitting up in bed, naked, reading a novel. Anna moved to put the book aside as she smiled invitingly at Elsa.

Elsa shook her head. I have to finish up here first. When I've… She still couldn't remember. I'll join you when I'm done. Anna nodded, satisfied, and went back to reading. Elsa sorted through the papers. It wasn't pressing, whatever it was, but it had to be taken care of. She wasn't worried. She knew she'd recognize it when she found it. She opened and closed the drawers to her desk, taking her time. No luck. Ah well. She started over with the papers.

tap tap tap

Anna didn't notice the sound, or react when Elsa stood up to search for it.

tap tap tap

The walls of the room were lined with bookshelves. There was no door. There had never been one. Elsa walked to the bookshelf in front of her and lightly ran her hand over the spines, feeling for vibration.

tap tap tap

She picked up books at random, listening, opening. I suppose I should keep track of which ones I've checked, she thought, but carried on the same.

tap tap tap

She was getting closer. She pulled a thick grey volume from the shelf. When she opened it, it wasn't a book. It was a box. The front cover was the lid.

tap tap tap

There was a small black mouse inside the box, tapping at a picture of a door on the inside of the back cover, or the bottom of the box, depending on your perspective. It looked up at her with shining eyes and tapped on the picture again. Elsa shook her head fondly. No, silly. That's not a real door. You have to knock on the real door. It's over there. She pointed to the side. A door was there. It had always been there. Go on. Go to the door. It's over there. The mouse continued tapping. No, the door. Over there. The door. Get to the door. Go on. The door. It's right there. The door. The mouse shook its tiny head.

tap tap tap

tap tap tap

Elsa struggled to wake up. She heard the tapping again, coming from the door to Anna's bedroom. It is real, she realized. I'd better get it before Anna wakes up.

She slid out from under Anna's arm and lowered her feet gently to the floor. Her feet were as naked as the rest of her. Anna murmured and rolled over. Elsa slipped into Anna's robe and padded quietly to the door, carefully feeling her way in the dark. She knew who it was, who it had to be, but her still-groggy brain refused to process it until it had to.

She opened the door, and her stomach was filled with lead.

Ingrid glowed warmly in the light of the single candle she carried, a dot of flame reflected in each of her dark eyes. Her face was a chiaroscuro portrait of hope and concern, luminous against the shadows. "Elsa? Your Majesty?"

Elsa's face shone like moonlight, pale and cold and lifeless. "Oh God," she whispered. "Oh, Ingrid. I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry. We have to talk."

Ingrid guided her out of the bedroom and silently closed the door behind them. "It wasn't supposed to be like this. Not like this."

"I know," said Elsa as they sat on the divan and Ingrid set her candle on a low table. Soft snowflakes appeared, suspended in the air, slowly orbiting them. "I'm so sorry. I'm a terrible person."

"I didn't want it to be this way." Ingrid's eyes searched Elsa's face as Elsa turned away.

"I'm so sorry, Ingrid. I — I don't know what to say. I feel horrible. That's no consolation, but I do feel horrible." The snowflakes grew thicker, still revolving.

"No," whispered Ingrid as loud as she dared. "I spoiled everything. I ruined everything."

Elsa faced her again. "You what? No, you don't understand. I was the one — Ingrid, I have to talk to you."

"No." Ingrid shook her head, eyes closed.

"I'm sorry, Ingrid, but I have to say this." They were held in a candlelit bubble of snow that trapped light and sound, alone in an isolated universe. "Last night, Anna was… I'm sorry. I'm an awful, stupid, thoughtless person, but I have to tell you. You have to know. We… I made love to her. Anna. Last night."

"I know that!" Ingrid's pained whisper was like a blast of wind hissing under the door. "Of course I know that! I ruined it. It's all wrong."

"Ingrid, stop! What are you on about? I was the one who was wrong. I was the one who ruined everything."

Ingrid took her hands, gripping them tightly. Her frantic eyes bored into Elsa's. "This was your dream. Making love to Anna, it's what you wanted more than anything. It was supposed to be beautiful. It was supposed to be the most wonderful day of your life. It was meant to be a dream come true. I wanted this for you so much. And because of me, because of the feelings you have for me, you're in pain and you hate yourself. It's… It's wrong. It's all wrong." Ingrid shook her head as she stared into her lap. "I didn't mean for it to be like this at all."

"I don't — Ingrid, did you plan…this? Did you know this was going to happen? Is that why you told me to forget you and go…console…my sister?"

"No. I always hoped it would happen for you someday. I didn't suspect it would be now. I would've… I don't know what. Something. To make it right. To make it all right for you."

The lead in Elsa's stomach churned into a mix of guilt and doubt. "Ingrid. After everything. After the other night, the night we had together. All this time. You would've preferred that I was with Anna? Not with you?"

Ingrid blinked, swallowed, her hands folded in her lap. "I would've preferred…that you be happy."

"I was happy. I am happy, with you. Not that I'm behaving that way, but…" Elsa reached out to stroke her arm, then pulled back. "Oh God, I'm sorry, Ingrid. I said I love you. I do. I still love you. Can you believe me?"

Ingrid nodded. "I love you. And I want you to be happy."

"With Anna."

"With the one you love most."

"I — " Elsa was tired, still addled from sleep. But she suspected she'd be just as confused if she were wide awake. She loved Anna, she had always loved Anna, deeply, for all her life. She loved Ingrid with a love that had quietly insinuated itself until it was a part of her. A love that she could forget in an instant when it was convenient. "I don't know."

"It's all right." Ingrid took her hand.

"It's not 'all right.' What I did was wrong. So wrong, in so many ways."

"You love and care for her. How can that be wrong?"

"I forgot about you. I forgot you completely."

"I asked you to. I wanted you to forget about me and comfort her."

"You do know I was unfaithful."

"I know that I have no claim on you."

"Ingrid, I cheated on you."

"To 'cheat' is to break the rules. I'm your servant, she's your sister, you love us both, and we both love you. Are there rules for that? Can there be?"

Elsa jerked her hands back. "We shared a night of amazing passion, you and I, the latest of many. I swore from the depths of my heart that I loved you. And the instant we're back in Arendelle I abandon you and lie with my sister. How can you even look at me?"

"Please don't be hard on yourself. You didn't hurt me, there's no need to hurt yourself."

"Are you trying to be a martyr? Earning points for how much of my shit you put up with? Making me feel guilty?"

Ingrid's eyes darted back and forth. "But…but you're not guilty! You mustn't feel guilty!"

"Dammit, Ingrid, get mad at me!"

"NO!"

The snow that enclosed them swallowed the sound of Ingrid's voice, leaving a long, perfect silence as thick as a comforter. Elsa, her face blank with surprise, stared at her servant as Ingrid looked back at her with eyes wide.

"Please, no," whimpered Ingrid. "I can't… I'm weak. I'm not strong, like you. Like normal people. If I were angry at you, if I hated… I couldn't stand it."

Elsa leaned forward, nearly took her hand. Her brow furrowed. "What do you mean by 'normal people'?"

Ingrid's left hand grasped the fingers of her right. She gazed at them, looking for clarity. Looking for courage. "I've told you about Anders." Elsa nodded, hands folded in her own lap. her eyes on Ingrid. "I've suspected… I think I'm broken, too. You think I'm being a martyr because I'm not jealous. You think I'm hurt, and not showing it. I'm just…odd. The thing inside people that makes them jealous and greedy, that gives them drive and ambition and pushes them to greatness; I don't have that."

Elsa was pulled out of her own self-pity. "There's more to you than that. I know it. I've seen it." She stroked Ingrid's hair and cupped her cheek. Remembering this timid girl's devotion as she blossomed into a friend and lover wrenched Elsa's heart. "So much more."

Ingrid pressed Elsa's hand to her cheek, then released it. "I beg your patience. I'll try to explain." She sat a little straighter. "Once upon a time, a man came upon three stonecutters in a marble quarry. He asked each one what they were doing. The first one, tired and resentful, said, 'I'm cutting stone.' The second, grim and determined, said, 'I'm supporting my family.' The third one was proud and happy. He said, 'I'm building a cathedral.' You see, that's why serving you makes me happy." She blinked, licked her lips. "You're my cathedral."

Elsa sighed deeply. "Oh, Ingrid. I love you. And I love Anna. What am I going to do?"

"Follow your heart."

Elsa's smile twisted to the side. "Yes, but follow it where?"

Ingrid gently touched Elsa's knee. "Anywhere it may lead." Elsa looked at her sadly, her eyes pleading for guidance. "We never know where. That's why we have to follow."

"So that's your advice?"

"What? No. I wouldn't dream of advising you. I wouldn't know what to say. That's what I believe you're going to do. Because of who you are."

Elsa's smile was weak, but real. "Well. I guess I'd better tidy up and go to bed." The bubble of snow expanded, thinned, vanished.

"If I may suggest," said Ingrid, "you could wake Her Highness gently and tell her you're going. That way she wouldn't feel abandoned on waking and finding you gone. And while you're talking I can change the sheets on the bed. I…imagine that's necessary?" Elsa nodded, and slipped into Anna's bedroom.

As Elsa drew Anna aside, snuggling and murmuring endearments, Ingrid stripped the mattress. I won't be sharing Elsa's bed. Anna would be upset. She would tuck Elsa in, then sleep on the daybed, ready to serve her queen when the dawn came.

And she would cry, of course. But quietly, and not until Elsa was asleep.