I hate school I hate school I hate school I hate school…!

SMACK!

Oyyyy…I needed that. OK, I'm back! Yayyyy…but boy am I tired. It feels like the last two months have been agony, all because I decided to bite off more than I can chew with my classes. It's not like I can just drop these things, either. I've never been strong in the sciences, even though I do dabble, so this is very counterintuitive to how I usually learn. But I don't have much choice. So, please try not to hate me for how long this one took, yes? Please?

New friends and old! Yaripawn, Athena Sampaio, you two are very sweet and talkative, always makes me smile to reread your messages. Deihru, Jabberwock'sBane, Taiteilijan, wonderful to meet you! Don't Forget to Breath, Annaatemychocolate, you two are wonderful and inquisitive and ask such great questions, THANK you for all the support and conversation.

Oh, uh, yeeeahhh…there's a few other people involved in this, yuri-murasaki drew something and this one girl, she does a lot of proofreading for me…it's kind of awesome and whatever. You know what I mean, right? Right? Right.

Yadda Yadda more fancy talk, start reading!

"I don't know what they are called, the spaces between seconds– but I think of you, always, in those intervals."

-Salvador Plascencia, The People of Paper

"Kai, what time is it?" Elsa asked, looking up from her embroidery.

"It is now a quarter passed three in the afternoon, my Queen," Kai responded, looking over his shoulder.

Elsa dropped her sewing with a slight CLACK, kicking up a bit of dust from the table. The queen stood from her chair and turned to look at her attendant, her eyes cross and disbelieving.

"That can't be right!" she declared, looking at the clock. "The last time I asked you, you said it was ten past, and that was ages ago…"

"Not to disagree with her Majesty, but it was only five minutes ago, I'm afraid." Kai stated, half smiling and half exasperated.

"Oh... I see," Elsa said, deflating back into her chair.

It had been five agonizing days since that worrisome night.

The festivities were long done. The timing was almost magical, it seemed, for as soon as the Oktober Ferring was finished, winter had finally arrived. The fair-grounds and the town square had lingered with their holiday dressings for a day or so, but the castle staff had organized the manpower of the village not too long after the end of the Promenade. It had taken one-hundred men a grand total of forty-eight hours to strike and remove the dancing area, the bonfire pits, the vender stands and the market booths. Before the sun had set on the third day, the town square of Arendelle was returned to its former, simplistic glory, wide and open and bereft of life. No more did feasters sample food as they strolled along the dock. No longer did royalty and gentry marvel at the crafts and weavings of the common folk. No longer did dancers pound the boards of the platform, eager and excited and drunk with gaiety. The festival of the autumn months was finally over, leaving the kingdom sated and fat and happy.

It was a good thing, too, because now the frost was forming in earnest. The deconstruction of the festival grounds may have been efficient, but it had been slow going. The men had bundled themselves up, strapping parkas and cloaks and fur-lined slacks to their bodies in an effort to keep the cold at bay. But the change in the weather had been drastic after the end of the promenade. From out of the north, sweeping in from the mountains and skimming over the sea, a darkness had claimed the kingdom. Not a darkness of evil or impending doom, but a darkness that accompanies the absence of the sun. While it may never completely disappear during the winter months, it was no longer sufficient to warm the earth and keep the fierce tempests of the arctic at bay. Deeper nights, cloudy days and howling winds were becoming a constant now. The citizens watched from the relative safety of their cottages and houses as the ice-pack was pushed into the harbor, a slow, edging force of thick, blue-white slates, surging and grinding into one another as they fought for purchase and position within the relatively empty fjord. The wind assisted in pushing the ice into the break-wall surrounding castle and the piers, seeping between the massive boulders lining the shore, forcing the rocks apart with the sheer force of their relentless march. The sound was almost tectonic, sending strange, haunting echoes bouncing between the walls of the fjord. The unstoppable weight of the ocean was meeting the immovable wall of the coastline, and where these two forces met, dangerous potential was created. Combined with the driving snowfall and the slicing wind, the kingdom of Arendelle seemed pinned in place, unable to escape or even take a breath. Though the winter was still young, it seemed hell-bent on squeezing the kingdom into the ground, pushing it deeper and deeper into an ever-darkening cave of ice and cold.

But Arendelle was adept at such winters. Though there had been much gorging on food and sampling of spirits, the normal trade and preparations for the coming freeze had not ceased. The small influx of gold from the crown had been distributed in such a way that most of the tradesmen had been reimbursed for the labor and materials necessary to repair the kingdom after the summer blizzard. With their precious capital, fishermen were able to repair their nets, boats, clothing and equipment well before the ocean became impassable. Several hundred tons of Atlantic cod, herring, trout and salmon were caught and brought ashore, to be smoked and salted and preserved throughout the kingdom. No vessels had been lost to the ice-pack, and with their ice-buffers and extra paneling hammered in place, the ships were moored in place or dry-docked for the remainder of the season. Farmers were able to cultivate enough raw vegetation to stock each household with fresh potatoes, cabbage, onions and carrots for several weeks. The rest were frozen or boxed to be used in stews and boil-roasts when fresh supplies ran out. They would have to last, if only because red meat was in short supply. Game had been sparse that year, but pork and water-foul were available in the store-houses, tightly packaged or dipped in brine so as to keep them edible for as long as possible.

The infrastructure of the kingdom had taken a heavy blow during the unexpected winter weather several months prior, but the repair work had not been in vain. Every home was equipped with new siding, bolstered by boards cut from rubber-trees which had been shipped to the kingdom many weeks prior. Whole bulkheads and deck sections from damaged or destroyed ships were used to shield the windward facing walls of the church, orphanage and military barracks, transforming them into viable shelters and work-places for those who would continue to serve and maintain the kingdom throughout the winter. Fur-tanners and textile workers had repaired or renewed the majority of the citizens' winter clothing, reusing and recycling everything they could so that not one child went without a heavy winter coat or frock. Thanks to the generosity of the Queen, every home was aglow with coal-fire, each citizen stocked with over one-hundred kilos of the precious ore. With the influx of fire fuel, freshly cut timber supplies were given a few extra months to dry, ensuring warm hearths and comfortable kitchens well into the weeks of February and March.

All of this was a marvel, especially for those citizens who had fought, year after year, to eke out an existence in such an unpredictable and frigid environment. Despite all the setbacks and drudgery and labor-intensive paperwork and generally unpleasant sacrifices made by the people of this little kingdom, winter was no longer a looming threat. The months ahead would still be difficult, but now, they seemed less deadly and dreadful.

Boredom, on the other hand, was a fiendish presence that showed up all too soon and overstayed its welcome. No matter the station or rank, no citizen was spared the gnawing, indignant malady that was the tedium of winter. Of course children would go and play in the snow, once the gales and storms eased up, and yes, there was some degree of labor that was necessary during the long months leading to spring. But just as winter put the countryside to sleep, it also negated most human activity. Trade was relegated to local offerings only, long-distance travel was virtually impossible and communication with the rest of the world had stopped. The stormy weather made it so that the kingdom was anything but quiet, but for its people, Arendelle had become a giant page of blank paper, with no paint or pens or charcoal pencils in sight. In short, life had become fixed, nearly motionless, until the day that Mother Nature would again arrive to shake the kingdom from its snowy stupor.

Even the Queen of this little kingdom was not spared from such tedium. Her hardanger shawl, normally very consistent and methodical, had proven wearisome over the last few hours. The Yuletide pattern was chock-full of snowflakes, trees, reindeer, white-capped mountain tops, holly berries, ivy leaves and yes, even snowmen. But the Queen was now tugging at her thread more viciously, her cross and pass maneuver more aggressive and less consistent. Even though the image she had sewn into the silken white background was calming and serene, the Queen was anything but. This kind of embroidery was meant to be systematic and relaxing, but now, it was becoming a noticeable weight upon the tips of her fingers, her movements tired and dull.

"Might I fetch you some wine, my Queen? Or a glass of tea? Something to heighten your senses?" Kai offered.

"No, thank you," Elsa said, sighing into her finger-work. "Wine at this time of day will throw me off balance and make it difficult for me to stay awake. I need to get back into a normal sleeping-pattern, if at all possible."

"Yes, your late-night activities have thrown off your rhythm, if I may offer an observation," Kai agreed. "It seems that transmogrifying stone into gold is a depleting hobby."

"But a necessary one," Elsa said. "You've dealt with that issue regarding the 'inquiry' of our chief treasurer?"

"Of course," Kai said.

"How did he take it?"

"Oh better than expected," Kai said, musing to himself. "I simply told him that it was none of his business WHERE the influx of gold was coming from, just that he need only concern himself with its minting, cataloging and storage."

"He was that understanding, was he?" Elsa said with a sidelong grin.

"Most definitely, my Queen," he assured her, looking upwards as he tweaked his cheeks. "Especially when I confirmed that at least a few of these fresh-struck coins would be spoken-for…by none other than the chief treasurer, himself."

"Very good, Kai," Elsa said, nodding in approval. "We need fewer nosy busybodies in this castle. Now if only I could make my fingers less bothersome and a little busier..."

"Perhaps Her Majesty would like a new spool of thread?" Kai asked, gesturing to her work. "Her mastery of blue and gray and green is beyond contest at this point, but a bit of gold, maybe? Or black or orange? I'm aware of this rather radiant sample of copper-red which was just delivered to the castle…"

"Ouch!" Elsa cried out. The tip of her finger had been punctured by her needle, popping up from beneath her stitch-work in a location she SHOULD have anticipated, but had woefully miscalculated.

"Oh my Queen, are you alright?" Kai asked, jumping forward with a handkerchief at the ready.

The Queen held her index finger at the base, allowing her attendant to grasp her hand and smother her fingertip in dense, soft silk. "It's nothing. Just…a little careless, I suppose. Should pay more attention to what I'm doing."

"Do you need a surgeon? Is there much pain?" Kai asked, applying pressure to the finger as Elsa set her work down once again. "The needle seems to have gone deep…"

"No it's fine, really," she reassured him, patting his hand as she looked out the window. "Just got a little distracted. The pain is minimal and…and look! The blood is slowing now…"

Kai scrunched up his nose as if to protest, but thought better of it and elevated the Queen's hand instead. "As you wish…I just hope it doesn't distract you further…"

Elsa looked up, a little shocked.

"The pain, I mean," Kai clarified. "I hope it subsides soon…"

"Ohhh, ehhmm, well yes, I'm sure it will…nothing to be worried about…nothing at all…"

The Queen was mortified by the string of lies which had evacuated her mouth. In the span of two minutes, she had served-up her attendant more deceptions than in the previous two years. Thankfully, the man had looked away in time for Elsa to sink her forehead into her other palm, her finger still raised upwards as if in objection. It gave her enough of an excuse to still her body and close her eyes, where she could silently reprimand herself with no intrusion.

'I can't even think of certain COLORS…not without thinking about her…' the Queen berated herself. 'This is like having the flu…I can't escape it, I can't even shut it out properly. At least there aren't a bunch of little snowmen running around…'

Kristoff's interrogation, almost a week earlier, had not left the Queen as unscathed as she had hoped. After leaving her, the man had made himself scarce. He had retreated to his home, a few kilometers outside of the village, with Sven in tow. While he had been seen in and around the castle over the last few days, he had not sought out the queen…or the princess, so far as Elsa could tell. The ice-master had made himself useful, though: assisting with storage of the remaining gold bullion, refurbishing and reinforcing some of the public structures in and around the town square. He had even helped himself to a hefty cache of fresh carrots from the castle storehouse – nearly twelve kilos. Elsa knew this for a fact because Gerda had come to the queen several hours later, to report that the man had been seen loading up his sled with the vegetation. While the mountaineer had significant amount of implied credit, with the crown and kingdom, such appropriation seemed just a little objectionable to the mistress of the house.

Elsa, however, had made no objection of any kind.

Perhaps it was the scolding she had received. Perhaps it had been the unpredictable reaction of the ice-master after all was said and revealed. Perhaps it was the turn of the weather. Whatever it was, Elsa had been arched like an alley-cat for two days, watching, listening and waiting for something to happen. She entered crowded, conversation-filled rooms with caution, studying the faces of all those present. She spent a great deal of time inquiring about the idle gossip within the kitchen, the servants' quarters, the stables, the barracks, and even the trade-houses beyond the castle. Every rumor, every whisper, every implication had been quietly catalogued by the queen, with the more alarming bits of information being jotted down in a small notebook which she kept hidden in her father's study. She even reread the entries, sometimes twice a day, to see if they correlated with some impending social or personal doom.

…but none had come. Despite all the anger, the accusations, the righteous indignation and the fiery reproach served to the queen by the ice-master, Kristoff had apparently kept his word. There had been no clandestine coup rising from beneath her feet. There had been no angry mob. For almost six full days, the Queen of Arendelle had gone from her highest state of alarm to a less stressful state of wary observation. All told, the only result of her protracted verbal exchange with Kristoff had been his liberal acquisition of carrots for his reindeer.

She would not begrudge him some fresh produce, given the information he had obtained. And, thus far, there didn't seem to be anything even remotely sinister about his actions.

Yet.

It was the 'yet' concept that continued the wary watchfulness of the queen. Just because nothing had presented itself 'yet' didn't mean something COULDN'T happen. Somehow, even after all the queen had been through—what she had PUT herself through—the prospect of some unpredictable, looming threat made the woman feel more anxious than she had in years. One momentary lapse in judgment, one misstep, one unappreciated nod of the head, it all left the Queen in a dreadful state of hyper-awareness. So much so that even sleeping had been an infrequent experience. It seemed as though the queen could not waver even for a second. Even if it was mild case of paranoia, Elsa had made it her business to allow no significant distractions to sway her inner sentry.

Well…ALMOST no distraction.

The throb of her finger made the woman grit her teeth. As if to remind the woman of how silly her momentary slip-up had been, her finger was seemingly mocking her, sitting higher than the queen as she elevated it above her head, looking down on her with reproach as it pulsed with pain.

'Of course you would prick your finger while thinking of your sister's beautiful auburn hair…' the queen thought, almost giving voice to her sardonic finger. 'Just like you spilled your tea when you thought you heard her laughing in the hallway the other night; or when you nearly ran into a door because you caught a glimpse of her near the garden. And now you've skewered yourself, all because of a suggested thread-color. You're lucky you weren't holding a dagger or you may have sliced me clean off…!'

Elsa's other hand slinked up her wrist, covering her injured digit as if to muffle its speech patterns. The action worked, if only a little, for the queen no longer heard the disdainful chatter of her inner dialogue. In its place was the sharp, throbbing pain of her finger, which barely held a candle to the wrenching ache beneath her bosom.

"Perhaps some caldanum, my Queen?" Kai suggested, producing a strip of clean cloth and resin from a nearby drawer to bandage his monarch. "It's less powerful than laudanum and supposedly keeps the craving from blooming in your body, at least according to our chief chemist."

"NO, no, thank you Kai," Elsa said, waving him off as firmly and politely as she could. "No drugs, not for something like this. This kind of pain I can deal with."

"Yes, Majesty," he said, finishing his binding and re-storing the medical supplies. "You have always been adept at such things... regardless of the circumstances."

Elsa caught that. The tail-end of Kai's comment was a little too on-the-nose for her to ignore it.

"Meaning what?" she asked.

"Oh nothing specific, Majesty," Kai said, bowing slightly. "I was merely pointing out that I have witnessed your capacity for withstanding pain. My Queen is quite resilient, as she has been all her life."

Elsa corrected her posture, looking at her finger as she bent it experimentally. "Oh. Well, thank you, Kai."

The man returned to his position near the clock, briefly looking over his shoulder at the gale of wind and snow which whirled and spun just beyond the window.

"Although…" he said, letting the word hang for a moment.

"…yes?" Elsa said, letting her eyes slowly turn to observe her attendant.

"I am sure there are some instances – some injuries, rather," the man continued, "which test us more vigorously. Injuries where the pain endures, sometimes far longer than we might expect. Don't you agree, my lady?"

Elsa took a breath and let her exhale compress her into her chair, the muscles of her abdomen suddenly folded and tight. The dull twinge of her finger had lessened, but it just made the rest of her weariness that much more persistent.

"There's more wisdom in your words than you know," Elsa said, offering the man a weak smile.

Five days of anxiety over Kristoff's intentions was NOTHING compared to five days of removal from Anna. Since that fateful night, long after the Promenade had concluded, the queen had found herself strangely withdrawn from her sister. It had not been an active withdrawal, far from it, in fact. But the young woman was anxious at the thought of suddenly reconnecting with the princess.

It had been small things, at first. Anna began to take her meals in her room, or had developed a lack of hunger all together. The Promenade had exhausted some of the fresh fish stores, but there were still plenty of other delicacies in which the royal pair could indulge. Regardless, Anna seemed only interested in the most basic of diets. From what the queen could parse together from her discussions with the kitchen staff, Anna had only been eating porridge, bread, dried fish and bits of roasted vegetables. Her normally broad palate had become muted and bland. Even her consumption of chocolates had slowed to a halt, leading the queen to believe that Anna might be ill.

But the queen's appetite seemed to be in the same state as he sisters – minimal and simplistic. Tea and biscuits usually comprised the entirety of her morning meal, while her dinners were no more complicated than a piece of roasted chicken and maybe some preserved fruit. Beyond that, the queen had no intrusive hunger, no lasting cravings, even for something sweet. Given her current state—and that no one else on her staff seemed particularly concerned with the princess, or her dietary shift—Elsa concluded that her sister was probably not sick. At least, no more sick than the queen herself.

But Anna was still acting noticeably aloof. The staff was reluctant to discuss what the princess was up to. In fact, most of the castle claimed ignorance with regards to the princess' activities. She seemed to be making herself scarce in word as well as action. According to any random attendant or handmaid who may have assisted the princess on a given day, Anna was 'busy', 'occupied' or 'out' for the afternoon, not to be disturbed or sought-out except in case of an emergency. This was particularly aggravating for the queen for two reasons. Firstly, it meant she couldn't even interrogate her servants, even if she was desperate enough to choose such an action.

And secondly, it paralleled the type of behavior that was typical of the QUEEN during her thirteen year sabbatical from the world, which saddened the young ruler even further.

The queen found it fascinating, these unintentionally mirrored activities between her sister and herself. Anna had become 'busy' after the promenade, and so Elsa had followed suit, without knowing it. The queen had finished her transmogrification of nearly fifteen tons of stone into gold, which, so far as she knew, was being hastily smelted down and struck into rounds of Royal Crocus Kroner. This newly minted money would be stored under lock and key until the annual thaw, when it would then be distributed amongst her people and shipped to her international counterparts. Even with the day she had taken to basically recover from her ambushed confession with Kristoff, the queen had finished her work in record time. She had depleted three more Haldorðr stones, hiding the cache in a small wall-safe behind her parents' portrait. There were simply too many to store in the mantle top hidey-hole. The work had been exhausting and the calculations tedious, but now, she was confident that all of her kingdom's debts would be covered in full. There was even enough excess gold to cover a significant margin of error, if there was one to cover at all.

But now? With all her basic duties attended to and her domestic responsibilities brought to a slow trudge by the growing winter? The queen found herself woefully under-stimulated. So, just as her sister was most likely doing, the queen sought out activities, virtually ANY activities. Embroidery was something that ate up a few hours of her day, until her fingers were stiff and her shoulders ached. But anything was better than being alone with her worry and her growing loneliness. The queen had begun practicing fencing with her uncle, under the watchful eye of Captain Lusk and occasionally observed by Queen Frida. The lessons were tiring but only lasted an hour or two, so afterwards, the queen would brush up on her language studies: French, English, German, Russian and Italian were some of her favorites, but her grasp of all five were limited by her severely waning attention span. An hour or more of such studies would see the queen growing bored and moving to her study for a cup of tea, or the kitchen for a small snack, or to walk the various halls and corridors filled with silence and stillness. The queen found herself striking up conversations, concerning everything from the weather to food to politics, with any errant servant who would give her their full attention. Too often, it seemed, the servant or handmaid or footman would need to excuse themselves to attend to some small calamity or other, leaving the queen to politely dismiss them and remain where she stood, wondering how she had managed, yet again, to chase away another source of company.

When such conversational pursuits proved fruitless, the queen found herself aimlessly poring over paperwork, attempting to drown her mind in the monotony of her stately duties. The odd bit of tax reduction here, an inquiry about troop deployments near the northern border there, she had seen it all and knew exactly what to look for before applying her signature and seal. But it only served to exhaust the woman, until her head was so heavy with dreary withdrawal that it slipped from her cradling hand and THUMPED upon her desk. Such a jolt was just enough for her to regain her composure and put her work aside for the day, allowing her to fetch a bit of dinner and then retreat to her room for the evening.

She left the door open, though. WIDE open.

It was like setting bait on a line. She knew it. She saw the analogy. But regardless, the queen was not going to enable another form of separation from her sister and herself. She kept the door open, her lamp on, her body upright and watchful in bed, keeping her eyes steady on her entryway.

Time would pass very slowly, especially on those days when the wind and snow were a constant. Her own anxiety may have made such weather worse; she couldn't be sure. She could only pass the time, by reading, knitting, organizing her clothing, even pacing about in front of her fire-hearth, hoping that it would make the clock tick faster and the night grow deeper.

The door was an invitation. Since she felt appalled by the idea of invading her sister's privacy and she certainly couldn't announce her desires with a bull-horn, the queen opted for a more subtle form of enticement. She would not hide. She would not push or pull away. She kept her bedchamber warm, well-lit, comfortable and welcoming. She even kept a tray of tea, chocolates and fresh scones sitting near her door, as if the smell would waft down the hall like some bizarre chemotaxis that would draw her quarry close to her.

For five nights, the queen had watched and waited, patiently.

For five mornings, she woke in a dazed, haphazard clump upon her bed, spinning over the edge to look at her door, but found nothing.

On the first and second night, the queen could have sworn she had seen Anna, clad in a night-gown, looking in from the edge of her door-frame. The image was fleeting and exhilarating, causing the queen to leap from her bed and sprint to the hallway… only to find no one within eye-shot. Had it been a dream? Had her sleep-addled brain been playing tricks on her? It was hard to know, simply because it was difficult to suss -out the difference between daydreams and wishful thinking. Of COURSE her sister was checking on her, according to one side of her reasoning. She was always looking in on Elsa, always making sure that her sister hadn't vanished in a puff of smoke. She would never abandon her queen, her sister, her dearest companion. It wasn't within Anna to do such a thing.

BUT—reasoned the other side of her brain—she'd never needed to worry about such a thing before. Anna had always been there, whether close or at a distance. Anna was always there.

Except now, it seemed, she wasn't. Elsa was well aware of how grandiose her castle was. It was larger than any military establishment in her kingdom. In fact, it had been designed, first and foremost, as a seaside fortress and barrier post, before becoming home to the royal family. It wasn't as lavish or spacious as the Palace of Agrabah or the Royal Castle of Corona. But it was a good deal more spacious than her Icy Citadel atop the North Mountain, even with its cavernous rooms and vaulted ceilings. It was fully possible for people to lose themselves within this castle for hours, especially if there were no guards or personnel to redirect someone back the way they came.

But Anna certainly wasn't lost.

Instead, she was simply absent. She may not have been actively avoiding the queen, but then, the queen hadn't had the chance to ask the princess face to face. The queen caught glimpses of her sister, here and there, as she went about her business in the castle – scurrying towards the library, ducking out of the kitchen, marching all the way at the edge of the throne room, only to quickly close the doors behind her. At first, Elsa had reached out, as if trying to call her back, keep her from fleeing. But after five days of near-misses and strained eyes, the queen wasn't sure if she was actually seeing what she was seeing anymore. They could have been a trick of the light, a strange absence of focus… not her little sister at all.

No, it could be something far worse. Perhaps longing was taking root in her heart once more. While her exchange with the ice-master had been strangely liberating, relieving her of a congestion she hadn't know was lodged within her breast, there were unforeseen consequences as well. The truth of Elsa's feelings, the verbal expression of a love so disastrously conceived and meticulously denied, had brought about an emotional debacle within her head and heart. On the one hand, Elsa was well aware of her responsibilities, both to her crown and to her sister. They gave her a set of behavioral guidelines, a well-lit path through an otherwise darkening wood. She knew what she had to do, where she had to be, how she had to act and what was expected of her, and she would follow these guidelines, to the letter. She had been bred for just such a thing.

Even if such requirements made it impossible for her to be around her sister again.

That was the OTHER hand. While laudanum and other narcotic remedies had proven to be very addictive in large amounts, especially since it was rather new to the kingdom and continent, Elsa now knew that Anna had cultured a far deeper hunger within the queen. A hunger that was broad and consuming and vile in so many ways. Intellectually, the queen could categorize such feelings as loneliness, longing, a genuine desire for her sister's presence.

Emotionally, she knew it was more than that.

It frightened her. This wasn't lust; at least, not as she understood the definition. This was a feverish need to express what she had just come to grips with not a week earlier. The anticipation, the anxiety of what had happened and what she had said and what she now knew she felt. It was draining. The queen wasn't sure why, but now that her feelings had been expressed, spoken, given form, there still seemed to be something missing. Something she craved but could not acquire, a thirst that no food could satisfy and no drink could slake.

Elsa had confessed her heart's deepest sin and surest truth, but she could not share it with anyone.

Not even with the person who really mattered in all this.

Elsa's aside must have been noticeable, because Kai cleared his throat and said something that she didn't quite catch. "Hmm? Beg pardon?"

Kai gave a small, professional smile before repeating. "How have your lessons been progressing, my Queen? With your uncle, I mean?"

Elsa shook her head and plastered another smile across her lips. "Oh, grandly! King Godehard is very adept at teaching, it seems. I'm picking up basic stances and balancing fairly quickly, according to him. Wooden blades are…cumbersome, but it's like any other skill set I suppose; repetition, repetition, repetition."

"Indeed, it is," Kai nodded. "My own father, Lerig, had a degenerative malady of the left hand. We never did figure out exactly what it was, but his usage of his fingers was severely hampered. It was a prevailing numbness, spread throughout his forearm, which kept him from bending his wrist and digits with any substantial strength or dexterity. It grew worse as he aged, until my mother had to help him with certain tasks."

"How dreadful…" Elsa said, rubbing her hands together subconsciously before catching herself. "Ehmmm, that is, it must have been difficult for him, I'm sure."

"Most certainly," Kai agreed, "but there were certain things he refused to give up on. For example—and I do believe this is what brought your family's attention to mine, my queen—Lerig was a tremendous fanatic of the piano. Watched the lyricists and composers with great interest whenever they performed publicly in the village, became obsessed with music brought from the south, especially German and Italian compositions. For weeks, he would peruse sheet music, test chord progressions with his good hand. He even shacked himself up in the Cathedral de Notre Dame while trading in Paris, just so he could watch the organ master practice. Was tossed out on his ear, if my mother's recollection holds true. But it didn't matter; he'd tasted new, modern music. It placed hooks in the man that didn't let go for the rest of his life."

"Oh wonderful," Elsa said, offering a genuine smile. "Good for him. I suppose he turned to composition, did he? Because of his hand?"

"Oh no, my queen. He loved the piano, and so, he needed to PLAY the piano," Kai said, smiling beneath his massive nose.

Elsa hesitated, raising her uninjured finger before delicately saying "Oh…I was sure his numbness would make such a pursuit…well, that is, would it have been a healthy activity? Or too stressful?"

"Oh it was dreadful," Kai said, placing his palm over his forehead as if in exasperation. "He took lessons in the conservatory before he finally saved enough kroner for a baby grand. For months he banged and clanged away on the thing, waking my mother, sister and I at all hours of the night. His right hand was up to the task, but the left lacked the dexterity and nimbleness to move from key to key with any precision. Touching a single 'C' with his left hand resulted in four others keys being played on the same scale, creating a dissonance that ruined any notes played by his right. It was so jarring that my mother threatened to lash him to the piano and toss him into the fjord, since only the fish could appreciate such blubbering key-strokes."

"I suppose we can only be so patient, can't we?" Elsa said, smiling sadly.

Kai cocked his head to one side, bringing his hand behind his back in a dutiful, proper manner. "You know…it's funny how patience works. My mother made that threat every other week, and yet, the playing continued. Considering how many hours he put in and how many headaches it created for all of us, I was sure she would carry out her word sooner or later."

"…but she didn't?" Elsa ventured.

"No. She even defended him when my sister and I complained," Kai explained. "It was an odd circumstance, one which I didn't come to understand till years later… even after he was dead."

Elsa looked confused. "So, he just continued to bang away? He never improved?"

Kai smiled here and raised his chin. "On the contrary, my Queen. He became adept. He started pre-positioning his fingers before each lesson, knowing that some notes would need to be played at an angle or with odd alignment against the piano. Eventually, he had mastered the keys with his right hand and developed an intermediate skill with his left, which combined into an oddly pleasant coalition of performance and skill. My mother ACTED astonished, but to my sister and I, she would always just wink, as if to say 'well, what did you expect?'"

"Had you expected it, too?" Elsa asked.

"No, not at all," Kai admitted with a laugh. "I thought it was a lost cause, but mother seemed to know, all along."

"How could she have, if you don't mind my asking? Didn't she say he should quit?"

"She did."

"But then how could—?"

"She knew Lerig was doing what he loved," Kai said. "It was difficult, certainly. The talent that comes with playing such an instrument is innate in others, but not in my father. So, he had to work for it. Suffer for it. HURT for it. Had he listened to my mother, to me, to his friends and relatives, he would have been convinced that he didn't need, or deserve, the thing he wanted most. Often times, the things we really want, the things we really LOVE, are difficult to obtain. I don't mean the satisfaction of a good meal or the defeat of your enemies. I mean acquiring a true sense of satisfaction, completion…even unity, with the concepts we hold most dear. For my father, it was creating music with the piano. It was hard, painful work, fraught with naysayers, logistical problems and physical limitations."

Here, he pointed to his heart. "But what he felt about the piano, about music…it lived HERE. Not in numbness of his hand or the negativity of the voices around him. So, he refused to let either dictate his happiness…and he played for the rest of his life."

Elsa was moved at the honesty of her attendant. The pain in her finger had subsided, replaced with warmth that comes from hearing a hopeful story with a happy ending. Her hands rested in her lap as she leaned back against her chair, her cheeks red and her eyes misty from what she had heard. A new feeling, one of surprising positivity and energy, was filling her breast, making her breathing deeper and more relaxed. It seemed to elevate her above her worry, if only for moment, this feeling of accomplishment by a third party she had never met before.

"As it turns out," Kai continued, "my father was playing in the chapel one Friday while your grandfather Haarkonen was in attendance. The former king was so impressed that they became fast friends, and stayed that way until my father died. My mother was old and my sister married at that point, living far away with her husband and two sons. I was a young man and worked to support my mother, even leaving my studies to provide for her. But most of my father's trading partners were dead or retired by that time, so most of my work was labor-based, in the harbor or surrounding countryside. When our savings had become depleted, my mother was forced to sell the baby grand. It broke her heart to do so."

Elsa's face crashed for the second time that day. "Oh, good gracious…!"

"Not to worry," Kai said, waving it off with a small chuckle. "You see, it was your grandfather who had purchased the piano, through an auction. When he came to pay my mother the money, he looked upon the baby grand and said 'Good gracious, woman, I can't have THAT in my castle! So plain, so ordinary…what would the rest of the gentry think of this toy?' My mother didn't know what to do, but before she could say anything, the king dropped his bag of Kroner in her lap, along with six more silver pieces. 'I never renege on a payment, good woman, but since I cannot have such a thing in my castle, I shall have to pay you to store this trinket here until I can figure out what to do with it. But I am still sorely displeased by this purchase!' I stepped forward, of course, offering whatever service I could to appease his lordship and still his rancor."

"What did he say?" Elsa said, suddenly mortified by the behavior of her grandfather.

"Oh it was most preposterous," Kai said, wiping his brow as if he was sweating from the memory. "He said 'Ah, so YOU, the son of a trader, think you've something to offer the crown, do you?' I nodded my head vigorously and basically threw himself upon his mercy, though my mother protested."

Kai's voice softened, looking down as if humbled. "Your grandfather said 'Oh very well, since your father was of noble stock, though not of noble blood, I shall make you a deal. YOU, young man, shall act as valet and attendant to my wife and I, and our son, the prince. Your wages, of course, shall be sent to your mother. One can only DREAM at how a youth like you would spend such money. Since the prince is only a few years younger than you, I expect you to join him during his studies, participate in his schooling and follow with your own. When he—and by extension, YOU—have finished your university courses, you shall remain as confidante and housecarl to the royal family, until such time as your family no longer requires income or you are dismissed by the crown. This debt shall last until ALL recompense is fulfilled. If this means that future generations of your family are required to serve the royal family, then so be it. Perhaps in that time, I shall forgive this… ODIOUS financial debacle of mine. Do we have an accord?'"

Elsa was aghast but also fascinated. "Father never said you were indentured-"

"And I'm not, nor have I ever been, it would seem," Kai said, stroking his chin in what looked like amusement. "I had only been working for the king for a year before he died. In that time, he had finalized his decrees for the servants of the household and the staff. Under my name, a new subsection indicated that my duties had been utilized in full…and that I was absolved of any debt. I was free to leave, if I chose…or I could stay to continue my studies, and service, of the new king and queen. This courtesy was extended to 'The son of my good friend Lerig, and the sons of his sons' sons.' Essentially, should I ever sire a family, they will have a place of honor, employment and subsistence within the walls of this castle for the next five generations, at least."

He clicked his heals, coming to attention. "I made my decision that very moment…and served your father as I serve you now, your Grace."

Elsa stood and offered a curtsy, before walking the short distance to the man placing a small peck on his cheek. The man blinked furiously, even as Elsa held his hand in her injured one, patting it affectionately. The man was flustered but poised, even though the forward behavior of the queen was most irregular.

"And you served him well. He would be proud, and most grateful, for how you have served my sister and I," she said wiping away a happy tear. "Though I was clearly unaware of just how interwoven your history has been with that of my family."

"A most fortunate turn of events for both our families, it would seem," Kai said, cupping both of her hands in his.

"But why tell me all this?" she asked him. "The story is fascinating and clearly important to you, and part of our families shared past, but what did it have to do with my fencing lessons?"

"Nothing at all," Kai said, earning a concerned look from his queen. "But your 'repetition' comment reminded me of a mantra my father used. You see, we sometimes love things that are… difficult, unpredictable, maybe even a little combative. They can seem so far out of reach, so unobtainable that we feel like giving up. I know my father felt that way, especially with so many people telling him it wasn't worth it, that it was above his capability."

The man looked her in the eye, holding firmly but gently to her smaller hands. "…but he muscled THROUGH. He was capable of far more than he appeared, but he only realized that because he worked for it. And once he achieved his passion, a plethora of new opportunities, that he NEVER imagined possible, opened up to him. From trader to pianist to friend of the crown, all because he refused to give up on the things he loved."

He patted her hands again. "I see such tenacity in you, my queen. I would encourage it, in any way I could. Attaining the things we want can be a taxing, exhaustive endeavor. But if my father is any indication, such an endeavor is well worth the effort."

Elsa wasn't sure if it was possible to melt and freeze at the same time, but if it was, she was experiencing such a paradox at that moment. Her heart was liquid fluff at hearing such kind, encouraging words from her oldest and most trustful servant. But her mind was vice-like and cold, barely processing because of the icy dread which permeated her brain. She was reminded of a painting she had once seen of a valley in the spring, the snow melting in the bright noon sun, but holding fast and frozen in the shadow of a neighboring peak.

'Does he know?!' she screamed inwardly. 'He…he can't! How could he? He's never made any mention of it until now. Is this his way of telling me that he's figured it out?! Has he told anyone else? Could others ALREADY be aware?! Gods, swallow me whole, how could this be happening?!'

A bell chimed next to the pair, signaling the halfway mark of the hour. Kai looked to the clock before relinquishing his grip on the queen and producing his pocket watch, confirming the time.

"Oh good gracious, look at that! Is it not time for your fencing lesson, my Queen?" He asked.

Elsa blinked the panic out of her pretty blue eyes and looked away in a contemplative fashion, before wrapping her own fingers around her throat, as if to manually steady her voice. "Oh, ehm…no, not tonight. My uncle is taking the evening to be with my cousin and her husband, so we have postponed my lessons until tomorrow."

Kai THUNKED the side of his head with his palm, as if to knock something back into place within his skull. "Ah, of COURSE, my mistake. I haven't a head for timetables as the daylight grows inconsistent. It is Princess ANNA who is making use of the armory training room at this hour. How could I have forgotten?"

Elsa perked up without realizing it, standing on the tips of her toes for a second as she leaned forward. "O-Oh…really? Anna is…exercising, is she?"

"In all honesty I have no idea, my queen," Kai admitted, raising a finger to the side of his head. "BUT, I do have it on reasonable authority that the princess SHOULD remain within the armory for the next sixty minutes, give or take."

"On 'reasonable authority', you say?" Elsa said, folding her arms and arching an eyebrow.

"Yes ma'am," Kai said, "in that I heard such information from Gerda, who overheard a conversation between Andre the porter and Anase the handmaid, who supposedly gleamed the information from Mesterkokk Klaussen, who was seen providing water, juice and sandwiches to Captain Lusk, who was, supposedly, fetching a late lunch for himself and a 'colleague,' one whose name was kept in the strictest of confidence. This pattern has repeated for at least three days, so it is reasonable to assume a predictive set of behaviors."

Elsa shook her head to clear her internal cross-eye. "That's an impressive string of reasoning, sir."

"Which may be completely wrong, I must admit," Kai said with a nervous chuckle. "The armory is but a two minute walk from here… should one wish to confirm the validity of such round-about information."

"I…suppose…"

The man clicked his boot on the hardwood and offered the queen a quick bow, never breaking eye contact. "Now, if you'll please excuse me, Queen Elsa, I'm needed in the south wing to oversee the installation of the storm windows along the seaward flank of the castle. I'm sure her Majesty would like to return to her embroidery?"

Elsa looked a little perplexed but nodded, slowly. "Yes, of course, Kai. You're excused…"

"…unless, of course, her Majesty would like an escort during her stroll?" the man asked.

Elsa flushed red and balled her fists, squaring her shoulders as her voice attained an edge. "Stroll? What stroll? Who said I was taking a stroll?"

"Oh, no one, no one at all, your grace," Kai said, turning toward the door and hiding his coy smile in the process. "I don't know what I was thinking. Please, excuse me."

The man opened the broad doors to Elsa's study and turned to bow once more to his queen. Before he could close them entirely, Elsa reached out to the man, calling him back.

"Kai?"

"Yes, Majesty?" the man said, holding the doors wide between his open arms.

Queen Elsa held her hands beneath her chest and looked at the floor, before launching a genuine, shining smile in the direction of her housecarl. "Thank you, for your observations, your patience, your counsel. And your honesty. I may not say this enough, but all of the above are greatly appreciated. Especially your steadfast attendance to aspects of the crown which are a little… eccentric, at times."

Kai winked, noticeably, at his queen before smiling again and saying. "You are most welcome, your grace. And thank YOU, for the cognac. The bottle, and the company in whom it was shared, was fantastic."

Here he closed the doors around his smile of many implications with an innocent CLICK, and was gone.

The queen was left alone. She walked back to her desk, thumbing the edge of her embroidery with a childlike impatience. The man had left her with another dilemma, this one smarting sharply because of what he had implied, without implying anything. She leaned against the lacquered wood and let her weight sink onto her left hand, using the large piece of furnishing to bear the weight of her problems. It was a suitable crutch, but not something she could drag with her throughout the castle.

'He's right, you know,' chided her mind. 'A hop, skip and a jump and you'd be at the armory… wouldn't take but a moment.'

"It isn't that simple," she spoke aloud, feeling the onset of a migraine.

'You aren't going there to do something drastic, are you?'

"Doesn't need to be drastic for it to become disastrous…"

'You're over-thinking this again. You agreed, days ago, that the truth is the way to go from here. If it worked for Kristoff, it should work for Anna…'

"I'm not being dishonest. Just…showing restraint."

'This isn't so dire as to warrant restraint. Remember why this intrigued you in the first place?'

The queen spoke aloud to no one. The action was meant to calm and orient her mind, but she knew that if anyone was listening to her, they would have thought her mad.

"…I miss her."

'Of course you miss her! What do you miss?'

Elsa smiled at how silly she was acting, but continued on anyway. "Her smile, her laugh. How those eyes get so big and bright when they see me. How she reacts to me, keeps close to me, what she says and thinks and does when we're together…"

'Is that all?'

Elsa actually shook her head. "No, I miss her smell, her energy. I miss how her hair prickles under my fingers when I touch her arm. I miss the way she presses into my side as we walk, how I can hear her hum to herself when she thinks I'm not listening."

'And…?'

She exhaled a hot lungful of air, tilting her head as she took a step away from her desk. "…I miss her cheekiness. I miss how she wiggles her way into my considerations no matter what I may be doing. I miss wrestling the last truffle out of her hand when we share a plate of candies. I miss how puffy her cheeks get when I stir-up her ire. I miss being disarmed by her stare. I miss the sway of her dress and the warmth of her cheek on mine and how her stomach presses into me and how tightly she wraps her arms around my neck when she steals a kiss from my lips and... OH GODS I'M DOING IT AGAIN!"

The woman spun and slammed her hands on the edge of her desk, gripping it tightly, letting her nails bite into the underside of the tabletop. She panted a few breaths, letting the pressure of her fingers ease the persistent pinch beneath her belly-button. It worked, but only in so far as it kept her from further personal indulgence.

'So…not JUST a casual longing, is it?'

The queen wished she could smack herself in the head, but that would serve no useful purpose. Her mind was not her enemy anymore, and yet, it was still her greatest foe. It didn't undercut her efforts to be happy and the latent self-doubt regarding her powers was practically gone. But now, the abject honesty within her own brain was diabolically obstinate with regards to Elsa's truest, deepest desires. It wouldn't budge and it seldom gave her reprieve.

The queen pushed away from her desk after a minute and walked to her window. The whirling wind and onslaught of snow was a form of white noise which kept her more perverse proclivities at bay. She lay a hand on the pane and was surprised to see a halo of fog appear around it, etching a hand-print into the square of leaded glass.

'Don't act so surprised,' said her mind. 'Of course our body temperature would rise when thinking about her. It's a natural reaction to longing, desire…heartache.'

She leaned her forehead against the glass and sighed.

Heartache.

That's what it was.

She felt the telltale rumble beneath her ribs. It was a twisting, torque-filled sensation. Though her heart beat as normal, there was an attitude about it, an edge, an accent. If the queen could look within her body and confront her heart, she was sure it would offer a withering scowl and turn away from her, dissatisfied and petulant. Such insubordination was almost tectonic, causing normally well-behaved aspects of her emotional anatomy to grind into one another, each side of her fractured persona attempting to pulverize the opposing half. Even as she lay a hand across her breast, she felt as if the slow, steady machine within her chest would consume her from the inside out. It had no outlet, no sufficient approximation. Elsa was subject to every gluttonous pang that rang out within her heart, a pain that was both exhilaratingly fulfilling and excruciatingly intolerant.

"What a mess…" she whispered aloud.

'Only if you let it remain that way,' she told herself.

She nodded. For being such a basket case at the moment, her train of thought was surprisingly clear.

'It still may be too early to make peace with her,' continued her mind, 'but you can at least look in on her. See how she's doing.'

That gave her a brief, honest smile. Seeing Anna was a distant second to interacting with her, but it was something, at least.

'Just a peek. It's not giving in to what you REALLY want, but it'll be enough to know she's OK. Right?'

In truth, it wasn't enough. Even as the though crossed her mind, a new sweep of longing struck the young woman. After everything that had happened, she wasn't sure if she could go back to Anna and resume her personal and private interactions with her. Kristoff's bombastic method of revealing the truth about the Queen's feelings had left the woman raw and sensitive. She wasn't sure if KNOWING that she was in love with her sister was any less dangerous than the love itself.

'You need to face the fact that your feelings may never be returned,' her mind chimed in, kicking Elsa while she was down. 'She may understand how you feel. She may even forgive what you feel, considering everything you've shared, everything you've done together. You've certainly explored parts of your relationship that are definitely not "sisterly".'

Fingers on hips, lips on collar-bones, greedy touches, mischievous eyes, sparks in the dark, these sensations hit the queen in the stomach, returning to the forefront of her mind with a hot, steaming pile of guilt along for the ride. It spun her where she stood, making her dizzy, her lips curling up in a goofy-happy grin which vanished when the guilt came roaring along as well.

'You need to stop thinking selfishly,' she continued. 'She loves you…but a relationship like that? It would be a disaster. Especially if she feels obligated to reciprocate how you feel. You know how she thinks, how sweet she is, how much she wants your approval and affection.'

"…the sweetest woman on Earth," Elsa sighed aloud, smiling sadly at just how true and how eviscerating that fact felt to her. It was akin to discovering the fountain of Eternal Youth, only to realize that you may never drink of its waters.

'Forget CONSUMATING such a thing. She'd never forgive you for even suggesting the idea. You need to know how to feel what you feel, WITHOUT putting Anna in a position where she has to choose between two versions of her sister. Anything less is unfair to her. And to you.'

The queen cradled her fingers behind her head and let them drape across the back of her neck, the weight of her arms pulling her shoulders down and closing her eyes. She was right…or rather, the new, stern voice within her head was right. There was a cold logic to what her mind was working out for her. It wasn't inhibitory, it wasn't detrimental. It wasn't even some form of neuroses. It was just the truth of the situation. It was a cruel, acrid medicine to swallow, but the Queen knew that the continued safety—and perhaps happiness—of her beloved sister, hinged on her ability to show restraint.

She may not be hiding from Anna behind a door any longer. But hiding in plain sight didn't seem any more attractive.

She hung her head, her arms squeezing the back of her neck as if to remove her feelings and fling them from her body, but to no avail. They were a part of her now.

"Gods…I love her so much…" she whispered to the empty room.

'With all your heart. But you may have to break yours in order to spare hers.'

And it did, in a way. The sensation behind her ribs was intensified, which could have been her heart shattering at the idea that her sweet, beautiful, infinitely amazing Anna may never exist for the queen in the way she wanted. The pain was exquisite, in that Elsa took some solace in the fact that such pain could only occur as the result of her feelings being real. This wasn't just loneliness, or lust or a need to control her loved ones. This was simply the physical reaction that occurs when one discovers just how precious someone is—and, more importantly, how precious they are to you—only to realize they may never reciprocate.

As Elsa was discovering, the whole ordeal was almost too much to bear.

'You'll be OK,' she told herself. 'It may not be what you want… but it'll be enough.'

"I'll be OK," she repeated, looking to the ceiling as she dragged her hands across her chest, letting them sit just above her tempestuously incestuous heart. "I'll be OK…"

The queen stood for a few moments more. In the stillness of her study, the amplified noises of the rest of the castle were very obvious to her at that moment: the hammering of nails into door frames, voices in the distant kitchen, the occasional porter or carpenter going to and from down the corridor, shoring-up weather weak-points in the castle or assisting the rest of the staff in some way.

She was also aware of the weather beyond her window. The wind and snow had slowed to a gentle sprinkle, more storybook flurry than winter maelstrom.

Perhaps this burgeoning, closely-guarded love could bring SOME peace to the Queen after all.

'Now, go check on your little sister,' her mind said, pushing the queen towards the door.

Elsa replaced her embroidery upon an empty shelf and left her study. Her slippers and modest skirt and blouse swished quietly as she marched, somewhat eagerly, down the corridor. She passed an occasional servant or guard, nodding politely to them as she walked, keeping her eyes ahead and her face neutral. She was on a mission, of sorts, but she didn't need to announce it. She made sure that she was poised, regal and presentable, a woman of power strolling confidently through the inheritance that was her great-great grandfather's castle. Her exterior was a model of youthful perfection, a woman of class and influence, oozing confidence and style.

Inwardly, she was so excited and terrified at the prospect of seeing Anna that it felt like her chest might inflate like a balloon, carrying her away down the corridor.

As she approached the armory, there were decidedly fewer people in her path. The occasional guard was positioned at entrances to other corridors, but Elsa felt as though she were becoming more and more isolated. Even as she rounded the bend towards the larger doors of her nation's Weapons Cache, the hustle and bustle of the castle seemed far away, as if the building were setting part of itself aside for the Queen, for whatever activity she had in mind. Whether it was for the benefit of her privacy or the anxiety that accompanied her journey, she did not know.

But she was suddenly nervous about what she might find.

CLACK! CLA-CLACKCLACK! WHOOSH! CLACK!

"EEEEEE-YAAAH! HA!"

The sound of wood cracking against wood, in tandem with female yelling, made the queen quicken pace. She picked up her feet and almost sprinted for the entrance to the door. The clacking and smacking continued from within, but there were no cries of pain, no calls for help. The huffing and puffing of strained breathing caught her ear, signaling that the queen should slow down and listen.

Walking on tiptoe, the queen edged closer to the entrance of the armory, wrapping her fingers silently around the doorframe and peeking into the torch-lit room.

"EEE-YAH! HA! HA!"

Elsa beheld her sister, the princess, in the midst of battle.

Captain Lusk, covered head to toe in padding and a dented infantry helm, was fending off the younger woman with all his might, using a two-meter wooden pole in his defense. He kept his stance low and his shoulders squared-off with the younger woman, but even his larger build was having a hard time withstanding the assault set against his person. He retreated two steps for every lunge he took, falling back to safety so as to avoid a hard-edged blow to the head.

Anna was resplendent and cloaked in a haze of heated combat. Her normal skirt was gone, replaced by a sensible pair of white britches, tied at the ankle and waist with leather straps and hiked up over her waist. Her shirt was likewise, but patterned in red and black stitching and tied with short lengths of rope at the wrists. Another strap was tied at the elbow and shoulder in a likewise fashion. The sleeves were otherwise loose, almost baggy, around the forearm and bicep, billowing up and out with each movement. Across her chest, Anna wore similar padded protection, though the configuration was clearly improvised. Her stomach and hips were covered, as were the flanks of her legs, but her collar-bone and upper chest were exposed to the air. It looked as if the material had been cut away so as to allow the princess' bust some room to 'breathe', as it were.

Anna's face was stoic, hard and concentrated. Even the bun of her hair, tied tightly behind her ears and beneath a much smaller helmet, seemed to be all business. The woman carried a similar quarterstaff to that of her sparring partner, thinner but equal in length, which she gripped between thick, padded gloves. But her eyes gripped the vision of her opponent far tighter, barely blinking or losing focus. Her teeth were taut between her lips, shining white and forcing air between them with each measured breath, but nothing could compare to those eyes. The young woman was more military private than modest princess, leaping and striking and parrying with all the tenacity of a young berserker, ready for war.

The whole scene, including Anna's outfit, seemed unbefitting a princess and impractical in terms of protective value.

But the overall look was spectacularly flattering on the young woman. Even the small spread of freckles across her trapezius and clavicle were deeper in color thanks to the sprinkle of sweat across her vibrating skin. The princess pulsed with kinesthetic potential, while remaining lithe, graceful and even dainty in how she carried herself.

Elsa slowly brought herself around the threshold of the door, still mostly hidden in shadow, and leaned against the door-frame. Wrapping her arms around her chest, she watched, unabashedly, as her sister practiced her staff-fighting techniques, fascinated and bemused and thoroughly impressed. She'd never imagined that her sister was capable of such theatrics, much less that she could keep one of Elsa's most elite warriors on the heels of his feet. The princess had form, a powerful thrust and a sneaky left swing that could lop a head from its shoulders. Her Left Guard position was solid, but her Right Guard had some bounce to it, allowing the woman to parry and strike with the business end of her quarterstaff. While rudimentary, her technique was fearless: she refused to give any ground, leaping into a strike, blocking a sidelong blow and using her body-weight to push the taller man off balance.

Elsa sighed. She watched and waited and enjoyed the little performance. She knew Anna was unaware of her presence, but unlike her previous encounter, witnessing the princess in one of her most private moments, the queen felt neither shame nor reproach. She was excited and thrilled at what she saw, fascinated that Anna was capable of so much… vigor. And while she didn't know how orthodox such exercises were for a princess, the Queen couldn't deny that she was growing more smitten by the second.

'This is my Anna,' she thought, without reserve. 'Headstrong and impulsive and now training for combat, of all things. She keeps surprising me. Keeps raising the bar. Keeps drawing me closer and closer and pouring light into me and…and…'

Elsa leaned her head back and swallowed a sob, closing her eyes as the back of her head rested on the door frame.

'…and I may never be able to tell her what she is to me,' she thought, her sadness silently washing over her for a moment. 'Gods. I know what I need to do, what I need to be. But why does it HURT so much?'

Bathing in such sorrow was almost comforting, but she wouldn't dwell on it. She couldn't. Not now. Not after the promise she had made, both to herself and to her Anna.

'My Anna,' she thought with a sad smile. 'My messy, stubborn, too-good-to-be-true Anna.'

Anna stopped fighting, coming to a rest on one side of the mat. As if on cue, Elsa tossed away her grief like a dirty shawl and stood erect, walking towards her sister with a shining smile and a round of applause.

Anna almost yelped in surprise. The sound of clapping hands sounded almost identical to the clatter of pole upon pole, making the princess wonder if a wall full of sparring weapons had fallen to the ground. The princess pulled her helmet from above her eyes and looked toward the door, with Captain Lusk following suit. The two beheld the queen walking towards them, arms raised and hands applauding.

"My Queen?" Captain Lusk said, offering a bow. "Good afternoon, Majesty. We, errr-um…weren't expecting you…"

Anna offered a curtsy as well, looking down and then up, as if to appraise the queen. A sensible blouse, a modest skirt, hair back but not knotted or overly-done. She seemed to be dressed for knitting or paperwork, casual but business-like. Her cheeks had a bit of color to them and her smile was angelic and bright. Anna, her own appearance probably disheveled and sweaty, felt slightly self-conscious at being seen in such a state. Upon rising from her curtsy, she found herself hiding the quarterstaff behind her back and straightening up, correcting her breathing as well as her posture. While she wasn't sure what the decorum required of such a situation, she was fairly certain that it was inappropriate for a princess to pant.

"I would imagine not, Captain," said the queen, pleasant and curious. "Though I must admit, I didn't expect to find something like this. What ARE you two up to, if I might ask?"

The Captain seemed to have a moment of panic. He looked quickly from one sovereign to the other, his eyebrows spiked and quizzical. He looked as if someone had just asked him the color of the sky, but the only answer he could conjure up was 'Lutefisk'.

Anna understood his apprehension. Four days prior, when their intensive training exercises had begun—at Anna's insistence—she had sworn the man to secrecy. The princess had opted to continue her training in a more organized and formal setting, with more focus on technique as opposed to self-defense. The castle had no shortage of people who were capable of teaching her, but she had decided that someone closer to her age bracket, like the captain, would be more sympathetic to her goals. After all, he was only five years her senior and already a captain, making him just professional enough to take on a willing pupil, but also young and rebellious enough to assist her, while keeping his mouth shut.

"Well, uh…" he started, "you see. An interesting story, that. I had come across the princess attempting to reach something on a high shelf using a broomstick. I assisted her and spoke of an earlier incident in which using a quarterstaff was more effective than in book retrieval and, well, one thing led to another…"

'Oh he's so sweet, but who taught him to lie?' Anna though, stifling a chuckle. 'He's ghastly at it.'

"Is that so?" Elsa said, looking from her captain to her sister.

"No, it's not," Anna said, letting out a sigh and spreading her stance out a little bit, easing the strain on her lungs. "Not a word."

Lusk looked at the princess with incredulity, while Elsa arched an eyebrow in a way that made Anna's stomach tingle. "I'm sorry, I'm a little…"

"Confused?" Anna supplied.

"…bewildered." Elsa finished, smiling at her chosen vocabulary. "Why would Captain Lusk lie to me about something so ridiculous, when it's very clear that the two of you are practicing staff-fighting?"

Anna looked down while biting her lip, clearing her throat so as to sound more official. "Primarily because I requested that the captain keep this a secret. Not with any consequence, mind you, I just didn't want anyone... else, to know. What we, what I, was doing."

Lusk coughed out an apology and bowed again, saying "Well, yes, her Highness was quite insistent and I didn't see the harm in keeping our exercises, shall we say, discreet. I meant no effrontery, my Queen…"

"Exercises?" Elsa commented, tilting her chin in amusement. "An interesting choice of words. Is that what she called them?"

The way the queen was speaking, it sounded as if she were addressing the captain in private, almost like Anna was not in the room. It was a very motherly—or in this case, older-sisterly—thing to do. Seek the truth out from a third party so that the second party might reap the benefits of a punishment. Anna didn't like the feeling, really. It seemed like Elsa was trying out a different branch of control which her younger sister wasn't accustomed to, one which took Anna's considerations out of the equation.

'She could just ask ME,' thought the younger woman, 'so why doesn't she? I'm standing right here!'

"Well… no, ma'm," Lusk said, becoming a little more bold and less formal. "She called them 'drills', which is the proper vernacular for what we have been attempting these last several days. But it is rigorous activity, clearly, so 'exercise' seemed as appropriate as anything else."

"Do tell," Elsa said, keeping her voice curious but still light and authoritative. "Since this has been continuing for some time, it seems, what has my sister been…engaging, in, with one of my captains?"

Lusk went red, which seemed to please the queen and startle Anna. "W-Well, of course, nothing inappropriate. Actually, the princess approached me almost a week ago and requested that I take an hour, or so, each day, to provide her lessons, or at the very least provide her a trainer of some kind if I wasn't available. Having completed my duties for the afternoon, it didn't seem inconvenient at all, so I took up the task myself. I have been attending to her Highness' training ever since."

"Training, you say?" Elsa said, the word genuinely catching her attention. "Is my sister contemplating a career in the Royal Guard?"

"NO," Anna said firmly, bringing her quarterstaff to her side and smiling sarcastically. "She isn't."

Elsa seemed a bit off-put and saddened by Anna's terseness, withdrawing just a hair and losing a bit of the billow in her sails. The princess immediately regretted her snobby attitude, but she still didn't like being referred to in the third person while she was standing between the queen and the captain.

"Actually, I found it rather thrilling," Lusk said to the queen, smiling sheepishly. "The princess's request, I mean."

"In what way?"

"Well, I don't think I was the first one to teach her," Lusk said, gesturing to the princess as a whole. "She already had a firm understanding of her own strength and balance, given the size and weight of the weapon she chose. The fact that she chose a quarterstaff at ALL indicates that some measure of study had been put into this endeavor. So many young soldiers these days, they grab a sword or mace without a second thought, expecting to master the weapon straight out. Often, they fall to their own hubris and pride, unwilling to budge and are then forced to relearn the basics. But with the princess—and I offer no puffery or unearned praise, Majesty—I've found no such shortcomings. True, she is inexperienced and only has so much physical upper-body strength, but she grows stronger with each drill. She had some rudimentary knowledge of her proper stance, weight-distribution, her center of gravity has been identified and honed to a point where she is not easily thrown off-kilter. She has a powerful thrust, seems ambidextrous with regards to point of defense and counter-strike—"

"Yes, I noticed, she favors offense over defense, but not to the point of recklessness," Elsa confirmed.

Lusk stopped short. "I beg your pardon?"

Anna followed suit, knitting her brow and placing a hand on her hip. "'Noticed'? What does that mean?"

Elsa seemed to double back, the lapse in speech causing her a slight blush of embarrassment. "Oh, well, I… I saw, earlier, just now, while you were practicing… that's what I meant."

Anna felt that tingle return, but not in a pleasant way. "You were WATCHING me? From the corner of the room?"

Elsa actually took a step back, playing it off as if she was simply regaining her balance. "Well yes. I mean, the door was open and no one else was watching. I was... walking by, and when I heard the sound of the staff fighting it brought me closer to the armory, where I saw... well, you."

Lusk could see the look in Anna's eyes as the princess tried to parse out how she felt about all this. Even though the man dwarfed both of the women with his sheer size, he seemed to recede, physically, into something smaller and mouse-like, that he might go unnoticed while the two sisters had their exchange.

"So, what, you were spying on me?" Anna said, keeping her voice under control and doing her best to remain formal and calm.

"Of course not! I was merely observing." Elsa said, standing up for herself. "It is a very public place in the castle, after all."

"I see," Anna said, looking sidelong at her queen as she tried to rope-down her growing emotional stress. "How long were you 'observing' me, exactly?"

Elsa started to answer, but then stopped. She looked as if an exact measurement of time eluded her, so she simply dropped her arms and raised her chin with a new burst of confidence and mild superiority. Or at least as much as she could muster. "Long enough."

"What does that mean?" Anna started.

"I didn't want to interrupt!" Elsa reasoned. "You make it sound so tawdry. I saw that you were engaged in some kind of activity, which—while vigorous and not exactly befitting a princess—was not immediately dangerous or worrisome. So I watched for a bit and waited for the two of you to retire to opposite ends of the platform. I wasn't spying or taking notes or doing something unbecoming. I was just…watching. And waiting. That's all."

The queen was clearly frazzled by Anna's suspicion, though the princess couldn't pin down why. Not yet. She observed her older sister in a state of strangely childlike embarrassment, as if the queen has been caught kissing a soldier and was furiously searching for a justification. Anna was unaccustomed to seeing Elsa go from such a great height of control to a moment of bottom-rung prepubescent scrambling, but she pulled it off with her dignity and authority intact.

The princess wasn't ready for the next part, either.

"Please," Elsa said, clasping her hands beneath her belly-button, "I apologize. I should have announced myself when I arrived, but I just… wasn't sure how I should, at first. I didn't mean to interrupt your state of concentration, or stop what you were doing, really. You just looked so focused and intent and ready for another round. You clearly had a handle on things."

She stepped closer. Even though she was still about five feet away, Anna still felt that strange, crackling, air-compressed wave of energy that followed the queen wherever she went. She wasn't touching the princess, not directly, but being so close to the queen after almost a week of neither seeing nor hearing from her at all, it had a physical effect on the princess. Her bubble had been pushed against, shifted, moved. The sincere look of regret and discomfiture upon the face of the queen heightened that sensesation, almost as if the queen were brushing up against Anna's heart, leaving it swollen and eager for a second touch.

The princess was panting again. She knew it, but knew not how to stop it.

"I'm sorry, Anna," Elsa said. "I didn't mean to prowl about. Not on you, or the captain, for that matter. It was exhilarating, in a way, watching you two battle it out. Maybe it's the weather and the next month or two of seclusion that we have to look forward to, but I found it fascinating. So much so that I didn't want to stop it, or you. It felt better to watch, and be patient, rather than barge in and make it stop."

Anna allowed herself the smallest of gulps.

"Forgive me?" Elsa said, looking to the captain for a moment before returning her gazed where it belonged. "The both of you?"

There seemed to be more than one apology in those two questions. Whether it was intentional or not, one could not say. But it was an apology, none the less. Not clearly defined and seemingly intentional in its vagueness, but there it was.

Lusk, for all his youth and prowess, seemed just as transfixed by the Queen and her train of thought. He looked back and forth between the two women, pupils jumping from left to right, before he dared to say a word. "Ummm…yes, of course, think nothing of it, Majesty. No harm done, I'm sure. Wouldn't you agree, Princess?"

Anna caught herself looking into Elsa's eyes and felt her cheeks fill with candle-wax, hot and red and thick. What was Elsa really asking of her? Was there some other request hidden beneath this one? The princess was uncertain, but eager for some context. What was it Elsa was really asking forgiveness for?

The princess decided to deal with one issue at a time, with the more immediate subjects given first attention. She regained her composure and looked down at the mat, twisting a foot awkwardly before saying "No…no harm done. And no forgiveness needed, really. I was just curious, I suppose. As to what you were thinking, or doing, while you watched me... us."

Elsa was surprised at the question but kept her balance. She leaned on one leg while curling one behind her calf, as if she had just been asked where she kept her diary. "Oh, nothing specific. Surprise, I suppose, that you were doing something so militant and focused. Not that you shouldn't show interest in things like that, I mean, but still, it was a bit odd."

Anna offered a pleasant smile, her first in what seemed like days. "Odd GOOD or odd bad?"

Elsa sighed softly. "Odd Good, I think. Most young ladies take up violin or floral arrangements, but something tells me that those activities are less your 'speed'. Not stimulating enough."

"Not by a long shot," Anna said, smiling again.

"You have an interesting form," Elsa commented, before catching herself and saying "er, eh…when you square off with an opponent, I mean. You don't seem intimidating at first, like larger soldiers would, but when you jab and swing and strike, you seem almost…"

"…fearless?" Lusk offered.

Elsa thought about it for a second before she gave him an approving nod. "Quite so, yes. Just from the few minutes of watching your drill, I can tell that you are molding my sister into quite the fighter. I dare say she wouldn't hesitate to fight more experienced combatants, given proper seasoning."

Anna was still mad. Plenty mad, considering how they had left things on the dance floor all those days ago. But her anger had ebbed, to a certain degree, due to her training and continued activities around the castle. Every time she remembered the look on her sister's face as Elgar clutched Elsa to his body, she would do leg squats and stretch her back until the image vanished. Every time she remembered her confession, her own body covered in snow as her cousin consoled and then left her to her own devices in her bed chamber, the princess ate something hearty and full of protein, so that her stomach would stop kicking the bottom of her heart. Every time she was tempted to run to Elsa, to hear her voice, to touch her, to risk a verbal thrashing simply for a glimpse of her neck, her lips, her eyes…Anna would run as fast as she could in the opposite direction of the queen, her feet pounding the hardwood of the corridors until she just couldn't sprint any more. By then, most of the longing and loneliness would have quit her mind, left in the proverbial dust of her mad dash away from the one thing her heart and body desired most: the intimate company of her queen.

She'd thought this could continue, planned for it, even. A few more days, which would turn into weeks and maybe even months. Maybe by then, Anna could escape this soft, warm, perfidious craving which had lodged itself within her. Perhaps she could approach Elsa, then, as a changed princess. Surely by then, she could look upon the queen and feel pride, loyalty, familial affection and sisterly love. Not longing, pain, desperate need and hideous want. Anna was almost convinced of it; as she had said before, time was the answer. Given enough time, perhaps she could transform herself into the woman she was supposed to be, versus what she was now – besotted and soaked-through and set aflame with the image of what…of WHO…she could never have.

But standing here, now, reminded of it all as she looked upon her older sister, Anna couldn't understand how Elsa had managed to do such a thing for almost fourteen years. For Anna, it had only been five DAYS, but the mere presence of the queen had made that short span of time a total wash.

The queen must have noticed how Anna was looking at her again. It was hard to ignore at this point, given their proximity. After a drought that had lasted nearly a week, the princess was suddenly overwhelmed with how good it felt to be the focus of the queen once more. Her body language, open and relaxed, combined with her sweaty face and strained muscles and unusual attire, it must have been quite a sight. Anna was aware of her appearance, that she was more 'scullery maid in the service of the crown' than 'princess of the realm'.

But she didn't care if Elsa noticed, or even Lusk, for that matter. For here Anna was – a small, sweaty sprite with a stick – who looked as if she had traveled the kingdom, swam the moat, scaled the castle walls and infiltrated the armory, just so she could be standing right here, right now, before the Queen.

Anna hummed to herself, as quietly as she could. 'Gods, I missed her…'

The queen shook her head and readdressed the Captain. "Though her high guard needs work. I noticed she favors body strikes and neck-swings, but neglects to protect her face and temple. No use in striking an opponent's head if she can't defend her own. She should probably focus more… on that, those, ehm…moves. A prudent idea, wouldn't you say so, Captain?"

Lusk blinked. "Of course, Majesty. I shall refine the drills to include more mandatory core-strengthening and peripheral defense. An excellent suggestion."

The notion returned to the princess like the tide, slipping out to sea but returning with a surge and spray. 'She really was watching me closely. Even if it was only for five minutes, she managed to observe all that? Really?'

The princess cocked her head as Lusk spoke to the queen, giving Anna a profile of her sister's face. The content of their conversation muffled away as Anna's own mind continued to ponder.

'She always was detail-oriented,' she confirmed. 'More so now than when we were kids, but then, I only have so much to use as a frame of reference. Maintaining the castle, organizing the staff, addressing the needs of the kingdom, she's always been thorough.'

Onward the queen spoke, though Anna heard not a word as she looked straight ahead, wondering and wishing.

'But I'm not an invoice, a contract or a dignitary,' she reasoned. 'So why pay so much attention to MY details? What makes her notice how I speak, how I move…how I…handle myself and show what I can do? What does it say that she pays attention – such close attention, to me – watches me and obsesses… Does she obsess? No, no she doesn't. She shows interest, at least. Finds it fascinating. Or so she says. And what does that even mean? What does it say about her, that she watches me so closely?'

The princess let a strange, secretive, black-as-coal-dust thought cross her mind. 'What else does she notice, I wonder?'

The princess felt her hips cock to one side as she looked over the queen, raising an eyebrow of her own as that fiendish blush returned to scourge her cheeks.

'I think the bigger problem,' she admitted to no one, 'is that I… kinda like that she watches me… kind of a lot, actually…'

"So which is it, Anna?" Elsa asked, shaking the princess loose.

Anna was startled; she hadn't heard a word the queen said. Her face went a deeper crimson as she sucked in a breath, before she mumbled "So which is who what?"

Elsa chuckled at Anna's befuddlement, which only served to disarm the princess more – a considerable feat, since it was the princess, not the queen, who was decked-out in armor and grieves.

'Did she catch me staring? Was I staring? What was I staring at?!' she thought frantically.

"I asked 'which is it, Anna? Have you always been curious about stick-fighting or did someone put you up to this?'" Elsa repeated.

Anna took a breath. "O-Oh, eehhhmm, well… my idea, really. I'd begun some basic training over a week ago, and since my original teacher is somewhat… absent, right now, I decided to seek out another expert in the subject. Arendelle has no shortage of those, but I felt privileged that the captain took it upon himself to teach me himself. He is capable and exceedingly patient, thank goodness. I think I needed a firm but sensitive tutor."

Here she looked to the side, feeling slightly guilty. "…at least until my original teacher returns, of course."

"Of course," Elsa said, content not to push that particular subject further, "but what I'm curious about is WHY you picked up such a physically demanding 'extracurricular activity', as it were. What made you decided to learn staff fighting?"

Anna's smile leapt to her face again, eager and happy to divulge exactly why she had been so inclined to learn such a useful and unusual skill set…

…but she stopped, dead. The prickle upon the back of her neck had given way to a build-up of uncomfortable heat upon her chest and forearms. It had nothing to do with her surroundings or her clothing, of this she was sure. It was the same cloying, unforgiving heat which had invaded her person after the promenade, seeking out her vital functions that it might shut them down, one by one, with pervasive thermal poisoning.

It had returned. Though the princess had shown some level of contrition towards her cousin, part of her—a secretive and seditious modicum of her heart—was still angry, still wounded, as a result of her fight with Elsa that night. It, too, had found some form of lodging within her which had a degree of permanency, like a tenant within a boarding-house who pays their rent yet remains persistently unpleasant and antisocial. As much as she wanted to shed her molt of disappointment and pain, the princess found herself withdrawing, back into her mind, that she might protect something private and precious. It served the double purpose of protecting the queen from Anna's self-recognized selfishness and pain, but did little to increase her endurance.

In a strange way, Anna felt as though she were protecting Elsa, however indirectly, from a part of herself that she had yet to fully reconcile with. Perhaps, at some point, she could pardon Elsa for her secretive nature and need to protect the princess from herself, and by doing so, Anna would be able to pardon herself for the miniscule parasite of anger which remained within her.

'Maybe I haven't forgiven her…not for everything, at least…' the princess thought sadly.

"There was no reason behind it, really," Anna said, pushing out her chest and holding her ground, as Lusk was wont to impose upon her during training. "It was a thing to do, to learn…and I seem to have a knack for it, so why not pursue it…right?"

It was a lie, of course. Anna knew it. Perhaps her tone meant that Elsa knew it, too.

But if nothing else, the last few days had strengthened Anna's resolve. This may not have been the WHOLE truth, but it was part of the truth.

Elsa deserved more than that. Anna felt as if she deserved more, too.

But it would have to suffice for now.

"Right," Elsa confirmed, nodding her head in such a way as to convince herself, rather than anyone else. "And you do...have a knack for it, it seems. No reason you shouldn't continue, given the proper guidance."

"Then… this is alright, with you?" Anna asked, hopeful and relieved that the subject had altered slightly. "I can continue my training?"

Elsa seemed to hesitate, as if she wasn't sure exactly what she was giving her sister permission to do. Anna was suddenly afraid of some kind of restriction, some kind of rule placed upon her training for some arbitrary reason or another. Perhaps as a form of retaliation for being so secretive and reclusive over the past several days. Would Elsa really do that? Treat her like a child playing with sticks, to be dismissed and redirected in favor of more 'desirable' pursuits for a young woman?

Anna hadn't considered that Elsa might still be mad as well…

"Of course you can," Elsa said, nodding in approval to Anna's great, silent relief. "You seem to be making progress and Lusk will keep you on your toes and off your backside, which I would require while you are still a novice. No reason to damage yourself too significantly before you've mastered the basics…Or at all, really…"

"Of…yes, right…makes total sense," Anna confirmed, nodding vigorously before looking down to brush out the wrinkles in her britches. "I'm not too keen on being beaten up just yet, heh heh..."

The princess had a moment of panic when she looked back up. The queen had closed the distance between herself and Anna rather quickly, bringing herself within arm's length. The older woman was suddenly so much bigger and taller, filling Anna's vision, causing the princess to look up and clap her jaw shut, while her eyes dilated of their own accord.

Lusk held his ground, fascinated and perplexed at what he saw. Anna could tell because of his almost breathless silence, which she mimicked, as Elsa reached towards the princess with those slender, gentle fingers, her nails barely grazing the side of Anna's forehead.

The princess went stiff. A lock of her hair had fallen out of place, pulling free from the sturdy bun behind her head, to fall forward and dangle in front of Anna's eyes. She hadn't even noticed that it was there, not until Elsa had reached out to touch it. How had she seen such a thing so quickly, when Anna herself had barely noticed?

Anna felt her legs tremble, a firm biological betrayal, as the tips of Elsa's fingers guided the errant lock of copper-red hair back along the side of Anna's head. Her touch was expert and precise, tucking the unkempt bang behind Anna's left ear, circling it behind her earlobe and securing it, more or less, out of Anna's face.

Two seconds, no more, were spent in this tiny adjustment, and yet it felt, to the princess, like the most insidious form of agony she could imagine. The cool, familiar pinpricks of cold which followed Elsa everywhere, the unmatched softness of her skin measured against her finely manicured nails, the scent of peppermint oil at her wrists…this was the Elsa which Anna kept locked-away in her mind, the physical manifestation she held onto, to be indulged in and fantasized over in total secrecy. This was the Queen that Anna knew, if not intimately than certainly in great detail, who continuously surrounded and penetrated the princess and her imagination, whenever she had a moment to herself. It rushed her senses as a single platoon of powerful memory and longing, a combination that brought the princess to the darkest recesses of her mind, while concurrently and subconsciously lifting the young woman to the tips of her toes. The rush was sufficient to let the princess take flight, wings or no wings.

And just like that, it was gone. After over a week of no stimulation from her sister, her Queen, her secret within a secret, those two seconds were tortuously succinct. To be given a taste of such stimulus with no follow up, it made the princess lightheaded, her mouth popping open as it to gulp a breath she didn't know she needed.

She looked at Elsa as she pulled away. The Queen had caught herself in a reflex, a hidden desire of her own, when she'd reached out to touch the princess. Her recoil was almost painful, like the shielding of fingers after exposure to a flame. But it had happened; neither woman could deny it, or the parallel reactions to a single event.

Physics has taught us that it is impossible for two objects to occupy the same space at the same time. But humans, in their complex, messy meandering through life, have found a way to insert pain, pleasure, hope and regret into the same microsecond of time with no destabilization of the physical world. Elsa and Anna were living examples of this tumultuous crescendo of contradiction, neither elated nor sorrowful, and struggling to find a foothold throughout it all.

"Just…don't get hurt, alright, Anna?" Elsa said. "Practice makes perfect, but if you got hurt, I'd…I would…"

Anna nodded, the peppermint oil still hanging in a halo around her head. "Yes, I know…I know, Elsa. I promise, I'll be careful. Really."

The momentary exchange of smiles felt comfortable, relieving. Natural order was restored, for a time, which was well appreciated. But as with anything else, it was marred by just how damned observant both women proved to be. Though the queen had tried to hide it, Anna caught a glimpse of her finger, wrapped and bandaged, which brought the princess out of her happy refrain and immediately made her reach out to her sister, though she dare not take Elsa's hand. "You're hurt…!"

Elsa looked confused but acknowledged her finger for a moment, raising it to turn and flex the injured digit. "Oh, um, yes…got bit by a knitting needle. Need to pay closer attention while sewing."

"Are you…I mean, was it deep?"

"The puncture? No, it was...I was distrac—…I'll be fine, really, Anna. Nothing serious," Elsa reassured.

"Distracted by what—?"

TAPP…TAPP…TAPP…

The sound of a large cane being banged against the floor caught the attention of all three occupants within the armory. They turned to the door of the armory and beheld a steward, a man in late fifties carrying a walking stick, with a young messenger boy standing beside him, quite out of breath. The candlelight made the man seem ghostly and malnourished, though he was of impressive build, given his age. He looked official and pompous and formal and bored as he began to speak, his voice as gnarled as his Adams' apple, which shook and jumped violently as he spoke.

"Do forgive my interruption, Majesties, Captain," rattled the steward, adjusting his monocle. "I have just received a formal request for the Queen and Princess of Arendelle. This messenger has, apparently, been looking throughout the castle for your Graces, but as he was unable to locate you, I thought it prudent to escort him, and his document, directly to you. I am very fortunate that the pair of you are here at the same time."

Elsa reluctantly turned from Anna and raised her chin. "Oh, yes, steward Jadis. Thank you for your assistance, but at the moment, the Princess, the Captain and I find ourselves indisposed. Perhaps this summons could be addressed at a later date?"

The steward Jadis made an imploring gesture, which was both submissive but insistent. "Normally, yes, my Queen, but in this instance, I believe the message to be both case, and time, sensitive. It… well, it bears the seal of the Cavalry of Ludenor."

All three sets of ears perked up, a reaction that was becoming all too familiar for the two women, especially. The princess felt especially anxious, so she could only imagine how Elsa was doing at the moment, but she hid it well.

"Very well…you may deliver the message, steward," Elsa confirmed.

The man slid a small envelope knife between the paper and the black-wax seal upon it, opening but not shattering the emblem. He cleared his throat and began to read aloud…

"To her Royal Majesty, Queen Elsa of Arendelle, and her Royal Highness, Princess Anna of Arendelle, I, Elgar von Shroud of Ludenor, Duke of Raxx, Baron of the Litisia Highlands, etc, etc, et al, do formally request your presence in the Grand Ballroom of Castle Arendelle. Should it please their Highnesses, I have a matter of great importance to discuss with the Royal Sisters, concerning the approaching Winter Solstice, the status of my lavish accommodations and another issue which shall remain secret, save for the ears of the Queen and Princess themselves. If at all possible, I should like to convene at six o'clock this evening, providing their Majesties are not previously indisposed. Should this time-frame prove inconvenient or simply impossible, another juncture could certainly be arranged. I beg the indulgence of the Queen and her Princess, as this meeting should prove fascinating and timely in its conclusion. Thank you for your kind attention.

Yours, Most Sincerely,

~Lord Elgar

The steward approached the queen and princess, handing the scroll to the former, before bowing out and saying "This completes my duties, madam, unless you have further need of me?"

"No, thank you, Jadis. That will be all," Elsa confirmed.

With that, the man retook his walking stick in hand and hassled the smaller boy away, until even the echo of their footsteps could no longer be heard down the massive corridor.

The three young adults were left alone, looking at the large scroll of paper, the black seal and the formal, staggeringly precise cursive upon the parchment. It was the anchor-point of the room now, gathering all their collective attention… and anxiety.

"I could rearrange a timelier, less spur-of-the-moment interlude, Highnesses," Lusk said, looking over the document. "This is very last-moment, especially given the hour. I could discuss the matter with Lord Elgar myself."

Elsa looked to the man and sighed. Anna could tell that she was wrestling with what she SHOULD do, versus what she wanted to do. Anna was very observant in her own right, and though she could not hear the debate, she could imagine the one within Elsa's head. Should they indulge the man yet again? What was he up