Keep wanting to add more to this but I think it’s as long as it’ll ever be so here we go. I know it’s Elsa week, I’m planning to write a little something for her next, but I’m tagging this for the month anyway (that’s allowed, yes?). Some fluffy Kristanna for you on a Wednesday afternoon.

Words: 237

Rating: K

Happily Ever After

It’s been years since Anna has asked Kristoff to help with the back of a gown. Now he just does it, silently undoing the buttons or hooks as she takes off her jewellery in front of the dressing-table mirror, then hanging up his jacket while she unpins her hair. Outside, the wheels of the last departing carriage rattle over the cobbles, leaving only the sound of the shallow waves in the harbour.

As a child, she thought and-they-lived-happily-ever-after was the end of the story. At twenty she thought it was the beginning. Now she knows it is a process, that living happily ever after takes not just love (which is, after all, a verb - a doing word, as some long-ago grammar lesson had it), but time, energy, patience.

Whatever he’s doing, he always pauses to watch her finish undressing, only turning away after she has dropped her nightgown over her head. It’s been a long time since this silent devotion embarrassed her. She slips into bed, waits for him to finish checking the lock, the fire, the window, before snuffing the candle and climbing in beside her.



In her youth, Anna craved excitement, dreaded routine. Now she understands the comfort of knowing another person fully, the pleasure in constancy. The way her head fits against his shoulder, his arm round her waist. The kiss on her forehead as she drifts off to sleep.