"What do you think of the blue silk cravat? The one your aunt gave me for our anniversary? Would that go with my jacket?" Kristoff called out to Anna as he set down his cufflinks beside his suit on their bed. He waited for her answer, but none came and he called for her again.

"Anna?"

She'd disappeared into their walk-in closet with Gerda to get ready for their first wave of guests, and had been tussling through an artillery of dresses for the past twenty minutes. A year ago Kristoff would have whined and groaned over how painstakingly long she took to get dressed, but now he was almost as bad as she was.

Not too surprising. His new life as a royal came with an endless barrage of wining and dining guests, many of which belonged to society's elite. And they all dressed in the finest fabrics and silks in extravagant styles. Dining with royals, nobles, and political leaders was much like being in a peacock show, and he dismissed it as nothing but glitter and pretense.

Kristoff resisted it at first and Anna let him, but it didn't take long before it set in just how out of place he seemed. It wasn't until they dined with some of the local families that Kristoff realized he was just being stubborn. Families who had less than him came dressed in their Sunday best while he was dressed in his regular street garments. He wasn't blind to the raised brows and curious glances their guests had cast his way. Kristoff had never felt so ashamed and embarrassed.

"What do you think, princess?" He asked his daughter, picking up a bright yellow cravat and draping it over his head like a bonnet. "Does this make daddy look manly and handsome?"

He pursed his lips like a fish and crossed his eyes at the small infant. Elsie was propped up in a sitting position on the bed, her uncoordinated and plump little body supported by pillows. She looked up at her father, her azure eyes gawking widely at him, then burst into squealing laughter when he stuck out his tongue. She tried doing the same, but only managed to form bubbles of spit over her lips.

Kristoff rolled his tongue and waggled his brows at her, sending her into another ripple of laughter.

"What are you doing to that poor child, my prince?" Gerda teased as she reentered the room. Kristoff turned, still holding the makeshift 'bonnet' over his head, and drew a heavy laugh from the servant.

"Any news from my wife? Or must we report her forever lost in her jungle of dresses?" He quipped.

"Princess Anna should be out shortly," Gerda said as she walked around the bed and swept up little Elsie into her arms. "She did ask me to tell you to wear the dark green tie with the silver pin."

"The silver pin?"

"The national crest."

Her father's pin.

He grabbed the green cravat from the pile of ties on the bed, but couldn't remember where Anna kept the pin. When Kristoff looked around the room with a lost look in his eyes, Gerda added, "It's in the jewelry dresser, in the second drawer."

The pin had belonged to the late king, and to his father before him.

And now to me, he thought as he pulled the pin out of the drawer. The heirloom was as simple as it was extravagant, but what struck Kristoff most was the history it contained. This pin can be traced back generation after generation, and now it belongs to me… a man who barely has any idea where he comes from. Doesn't seem right.

He knotted the tie around his neck and tucked it into his buttoned vest before clipping the pin on it.

"How do I look?" he asked when he turned around.

"Guuuh!" the littlest princess shrieked happily, squirming in the servant's arms. Kristoff chuckled over his daughter's uncanny timing.

"I must agree with the child," Gerda added with a bemused look in her eyes. "You look very 'guuh,' Prince. Now if you will excuse us, we are off to the gardens for some fresh air."

But as soon as Gerda started in the direction of the door, Elsie began to cry in her arms.

"Oh dear. She really doesn't like it when I take her away from you."

"We Bjorman's are set in our ways."

Kristoff hurried across the room and leaned over and ruffled little Elsie's silvery blond locks before planting a kiss on her forehead. As he pulled away, his daughter babbled incoherently and raised her chubby arms; her outstretched limbs reaching for him in vain.

"What is it, little one?" He asked Elsie, leaning his face within her reach. "Do you wanna stay with Daddy?" She latched her small hands on his face and observed him with curiosity and wonder as her soft hands and fingers pressed against the grain of her father's nearly indiscernible stubble. She gawped at him with a wide toothless smile that only grew wider the more she rubbed his scratchy face.

"Oh? You think Daddy's face feels funny? Is that it?" Kristoff gently pinched her cheeks. "Just wait 'til you meet Grandpa. His face feels so much funnier; he all rock."

~X~

15 Months Ago

"But we've already met with your Grandfather," Anna whined. "And the whole clan. They dipped us in 'good juju' batter and draped our heads with bird feathers and eggshells! And I still can't get the smell of figs and cumin out of my hair!"

"Oh, come on. That was different," Kristoff insisted. "It was ceremonial. Who are we to deny my family of their traditions?"

"We were practically tarred and feathered."

"It was a spiritual cleanser."

"My skin broke out in hives. I looked like a creature out of Grimm's Fairy tales.

"You're exaggerating. And besides, I can't smell a thing off of you."

"That's because you smell like reindeer!" She snapped.

He stared hard at her. What he assumed was their usual banter looked more like annoyance on her face. Her lips, so tightly pursed they looked thin and white, and a tense frown framed her accusing eyes.

"You're angry." He didn't think to mask the surprised tone in his voice, and yet something in the inflection of his words singed her anger even more.

"Why wouldn't I be angry?! Ever since we announced to the world that we're getting married, it's been one crazy custom after another! Absolute insanity! And now there's even ridiculous rumors going around that we have to get married!"

"You heard about that."

"I'm just so sick of it. I thought that getting engaged and marrying you would make everything…better, but I just feel so anxious. All the time." He caught the strain in her voice, the near-tremble that told him she was close to tears.

Kristoff reached for her, pulled her into his arms, her back firm against him as he draped his arms around her shoulders.

"Then, let's call it off," he suggested, resting a soothing hand on her head. "We don't have to rush into anything."

"No!" Anna pulled away and turned to face him, fear dilated in her eyes.

"It's okay," Kristoff replied, taking her hand in his and entwining their fingers. "I don't want you to feel that we have to get married. We have a good thing here. Ring or no ring, it doesn't change how I feel about you."

"It's just that…I've been so confused lately…about who I am, about my place. Elsa."

Her eyes were intensely focused on his hands.

He cocked his head. "Elsa? I thought you two were getting along better than ever. Did something happen?"

"N-No, it's nothing like that," she insisted, looking him in the eyes, but Kristoff was not deaf to the hesitation that caught in her voice. "I just can't help but feel that there isn't really a place for me here. Elsa's a queen, and there's no doubt in the role she has to play and the responsibilities that come with that. But me? I'm a princess. I courtesy and smile, and wave when the occasion calls for it."

"Come on. You're more than that."

"You're just saying that because you're my fiancé."

"That's not true. You help people. You saved your sister. You saved yourself. Anna, you're charitable to so many who need help. That's not nothing."

"Maybe so, but those are just things I've done. It's not what I live and breathe. Elsa's a queen, and it's not something she does on occasion. She manages an entire country. But me? I mostly manage to get myself in and out of trouble."

Kristoff took a step closer to Anna and cupped her face in his calloused hands.

"You shouldn't be so hard on yourself. I mean look at me; you think all this muscle happened after a single day of cutting ice?" He tipped her chin up and caressed her cheek with his thumb. "Elsa's probably been tailored since she was born to be queen. She's got years of study and instruction to prepare her for that role. That didn't happen overnight," he told his wife, knowing that even though Anna knew this better than anyone, she desperately needed to hear it from someone.

"She also didn't have a choice in the matter. But you do, Anna. You've already proven to the world how strong you are. Now it's time to prove it to yourself."

"And how am I supposed to do that?" She asked.

"You tell me. I'm just the muscle; my job's to do all the heavy lifting."

She laughed and slipped her arms around his neck, pulling him into a tight hug.

"You're my rock, you know that? Everything is so…so… simple with you, Kristoff. You're the one thing in my life that makes perfect sense. And I need some perfect sense in my life right now."

"That's so…practical of you."

"And I love you, of course."

"Of course."

"And I'm sorry about what I said before. You don't smell like reindeer," Anna said, pressing her face against his chest and inhaling deeply.

She crinkled her nose and bit back a sudden wave of nausea.

"Well, maybe your sweater does. Oh, god!" Anna pulled out of their embrace and covered her mouth.

Kristoff stepped back sheepishly.

"I'll go change."

"Yes, please," she replied with a laugh, but the pleading tone in her voice was encouraging him to hurry. On his way out of her chamber he glanced back and wondered why her smiles never seemed to reach her eyes anymore. That thought would continue to haunt him well after they were married.

~X~

He slowly pushed open the door and peered into the walk-in closet. Closet. It hardly seemed an appropriate name for a space that was easily twice the size of the last room he rented in town before he moved into the castle. He used to joke that he practically lived in a closet, and had all closets been the size of this one, he would have wished he had.

"Nothing to wear?" he asked his wife.

Anna stood pensively in the middle of the room facing a wall of dresses and wearing only her undergarments; a pile of rejected garbs, nearly as high as her waist, lay on the floor beside her.

"Not a thing," she replied. "I may have to greet our guests in the nude."

"Should I change my tie, then? There's the blue cravat that matches your eyes."

The corners of her lips briefly upturned in what could only barely be described as a smile, appearing more like a grimace.

"Did Gerda take Elsie?"

"Yep. The girl of the hour is getting readied as we speak."

"And the preparations?"

"Everything's ready. Kai will open the church doors and start seating guests at a quarter after eleven. Eugene and Rapunzel will meet us there with your aunt and uncle. And the kitchen staff will start setting up the table settings during the service."

"During the service? Isn't that cutting it close?"

"It'll be fine," he assured her. "All they have left to do is put out the plates and dinnerware. Everything is as it should be."

She didn't look convinced.

"What about the cake? Remember what happened the year before? It was a nightmare."

"Not to worry. The kitchen staff have all been briefed. Eugene and your cousin are forever banned from all kitchens. They aren't even allowed within fifteen feet of the service entrances." He grabbed her shoulders and gently shook her. "Loosen up, okay? Nothing's gonna go wrong. It's not like all the festivities thrown here end in disaster."

Anna scoffed.

"Do you even remember our wedding reception? The British Lord that took off his shirt and used the banner to swing down into the ballroom while we were cutting the cake? Ring any bells?"

"But nothing broke or exploded."

"He brought an ape to the reception and kept telling the guests that she was his mother."

Kristoff had forgotten about that. The poor ape looked miserable in the dress and bonnet she wore, constantly pulling at the tight collar. The bonnet had fallen off so often that it spent more time off her head than on it. And then there was the way the lord had introduced the nervous creature…no one could figure out if he was serious or if they were all victims of an elaborate practical joke.

"The Gala!" he said suddenly. "You remember the pre-Wedding Gala your aunt and uncle threw for us? It was perfect."

Anna nodded and bit her lip. "Kind of. I vaguely remember."

"It couldn't have been more perfect. I was so nervous surrounded by so many nobles, afraid that they would look at me like I didn't belong. Or worse; that they would think I was the butler, but it wasn't like that at all."

Anna bent down to gather dresses off the floor and stacked them onto the large chest at the corner of the room.

"You surprised me that night," she said with her back to him as she scooped another armful of garments from the pile, her voice slightly stilted. "I didn't realize you could dance."

"I knocked your socks off, didn't I?" There was a playfulness in his voice as he beamed proudly.

"And everyone else's," she replied, distractedly moving dresses. She never seemed as lively anymore. Not that he would ever tell her that, but he ached for the girl with the fiery will and the teeming bravado.

"I can't take all the credit for it, though," he went on.

"Oh? What do you mean?"

"Just days before the wedding, I could barely dance without tripping over my own two feet. I was utterly hopeless; but your sister offered to help. I couldn't say if it was more awkward for me or for her, but she stuck with me for the better part of three days until I got it right."

She stopped what she was doing and gawped up at him. "I never knew."

"It was meant to be a surprise. We wanted to make that night memorable."

A look of guilt flickered in her eyes and she turned her attention back to the dresses that remained on the floor.

"I'm sorry," she said with her back to him. "My recollection of that night is just so hazy."

He laughed, remembering her account of that evening; how she had meandered drunkenly out of the ballroom, too far gone remember how to get back to her chambers. Kristoff hadn't seen her take one drop of champagne that night, but he knew how sneaky Anna could be when it came to alcohol.

"Getting tipsy and wandering off to nap in the library during your engagement party is hardly a crime. If that's the worst thing that happened, I consider us pretty lucky."

"Still, I'm—"

Sorry, is what he assumed she was going to say, it's what she was always saying these days, but there was a knock at the door and both turned toward the doorway, unable to see who it was from where they stood.

"Sorry to interrupt," Elsa called from beyond the door. "Gerda mentioned that you two were still getting ready." She paused. "Just so you know, I did knock on the chamber door several times, but you didn't answer. I assumed you'd be in here. I hope you don't mind that I let myself in."

"It's fine," Anna replied, looking a bit unnerved. Kristoff wondered if they'd been fighting again. "I could really use your help." And then turning to her husband she asked, "Kristoff, do you mind?"

It felt to him like she was eager to rush him out the door, but he couldn't bring himself to say anything about it, not even in jest.

"No worries," he replied with a painted smile. "I'm sure I'm needed somewhere."

He had one foot out the door when Elsa called out to him. "Augustus' ship landed about an hour ago. He's waiting for you in the Red room."

Jim Hawkins.

He'd been looking forward to seeing his old friend for some time. Out of all the nobles Kristoff knew outside of the family, the Marquis of Montressor was the one person he could relate to the most. Even though the man was noble born, he didn't have any pretensions about himself. To the world, he was Augustus James Hawkins, the Marquis of Montressor, but to Kristoff he was just Jim; a guy who chose the open waters over a political marriage and honorary titles. A guy who chose to love a woman whose station in life was far higher than his own, and gossipers be damned.

Kristoff looked back, intending to ask Elsa about Augustus, when he noticed the deep-rooted contempt inscribed in Anna's eyes at the mere mention of his name. She may not have been that same easy-going girl he remembered, but the passion was lit in her eyes; resentment in place of bravado, but just as fiery as she ever was.

Whatever it was that he was going to say, the question died in his throat, and he quickened his steps out of the room and down the long corridor, trying his hardest to drown out the irksome voice that threatened to inundate his mind with the creeping doubt that often plagued him.

~X~

"You're kidding! A scrawny guy like you? There's no way that you knocked down a man of that size!" Kristoff's eyes were wide with disbelief, but he was clearly enjoying Augustus' recounting of his recent run it with a Scottish King.

"I did! I swear! His jaw was like a brick wall; I'm lucky that I didn't break my fist on it." He held up his hand to Kristoff's face; a long scar with jagged stiches ran along his knuckles and the flesh was still swollen and bruised.

Kristoff whistled.

"I'm surprised he didn't kill you after that."

"Oh, he probably would have had Captain Amelia not come between us. She has saved my hide so many times; I'd have to empty my treasury twice over to repay her." Augustus plopped back into the green couched and glanced about the room, briefly wondering why a room with mostly green and brown tones would be called the Red Room.

"So, then the crazy red-head turned out to be his daughter?"

"Considering how crazed he was, is that really so surprising?"

"You're just as crazy for kissing her."

"She kissed me!" Augustus sat up straight, glaring at his friend. "Haven't you been listening? That's how I got into that whole mess in the first place!"

"That's not the way I plan to tell it." Kristoff smirked, looking very much like the cat that ate the canary.

"You'd better not, Bjorman!" He sprung up to his feet and slugged Kristoff on the shoulder. "If word of this gets to Elsa, it's your head they'll be serving today at the reception. Mark my words."

"Hey! I'm just trying to improve your chances here. If women can see you for more than the scrawny doormat you are, they might just be deluded enough to consider you a fine catch." Augustus was hardly scrawny. He was lean and well-toned, but compared to Kristoff, he may as well have been a stick; a fact that Kristoff was always quick to point out.

The year before, after Augustus inadvertently, publicly, and quite painfully broke ties with Felicity Malachi, Kristoff began a series of competitions against the Marquis. Consciously, Kristoff meant to use it as a way to distract Augustus from the disastrous mess with Felicity, but if he had been honest with himself, he would have realized that his reasons actually had more to do with Anna's diminishing enthusiasm and increasing distraction. But Augustus didn't mind. Kristoff's motives were transparent enough to Augustus, but he was just as eager for a little friendly rivalry.

Augustus stiffened, remembering the way Felicity beat her fists against his chest. Her soft cries tearing him up inside as she buried her tear-stained face in his shirt, and an audience of accusing eyes shredding him to pieces.

"Is she going to be there?" He asked, suddenly quite somber.

"She was invited," Kristoff replied, his brows furrowed in apology. "So there is a good chance she will be coming. She might already be here."

Augustus nodded and silently walked across the room, staring absently at the hand-drawn map of the kingdom that was framed on the far-east wall. Kristoff followed, shoulders slightly slumped.

"I'm sorry, Jim. I should have said something."

"No," Augustus said, holding up his hand. "Don't be sorry. I'm the one who's sorry. The whole thing with Felicity…I handled that badly. On an astronomical level kind of badly."

"It might not be so bad anymore. It's been a while, and I hear that she's been moving on, getting back into court society."

Kristoff slapped a hand on Augustus' shoulder and led him toward the door.

"Besides, this isn't the time to be all doom and gloom. We have a christening to catch."

They still had plenty of time. Kristoff knew this but Augustus knew this too, made evident by the sudden halt in his tracks.

"Do you think I was wrong?" He asked Kristoff. There was fear in his eyes, and for a brief moment Kristoff recalled the stricken look on Anna's face on that day when he offered to call of their wedding; her eyes had been a brimming pool of abject fear.

"I don't know," Kristoff answered honestly, pushing back the image that lingered in his thoughts. "Do you feel that you were wrong?"

"No? Maybe? It feels like I really did wrong by her."

"If given the chance, would you choose differently?"

The clock on the mantle sounded almost thunderous in the silence that followed as the seconds ticked away. Augustus remained absolutely still, and Kristoff could have waited a hundred years and still have received no reply.

"Don't think about your answer," Kristoff commanded. "What does your gut tell you?"

"That she's not the one I want."

"How can you be so sure?" But he already knew the answer, as sure as he knew that Augustus knew it as well. In fact, there were so very few who could claim complete ignorance when it came to the marquis' feelings for the queen.

"Because I love Elsa."

"And if Elsa doesn't love you?" Kristoff cautiously probed.

"I...I'd still love her anyway." There was nothing disingenuous in his reply; the Marquis was honest and true to a fault.

Kristoff fought back a cringe, and nodded ruefully. He understood where Augustus was coming from and couldn't have wished for a better man for Elsa. Augustus was kind and sincere, but also forthright and determined, all qualities that would make for a good friend. A good lover.

A good king.

But Augustus could never be all of those things for Elsa. Kristoff could see it in her eyes. There was friendship, there was kindness, and there was even love. But the look in her eyes did not mirror the look that Augustus gave her. It didn't overflow and shine; it didn't embolden or burn with madness. It didn't yearn.

The thought made his heart grow sick; not because he felt pity for his friend, but because the many things that were missing in Elsa's eyes were just as absent in Anna's. And no amount of pretending could deny the sudden realization that his wife didn't feel for him the same way he felt for her.

…to be continued…

EXTRAS

Kristoff: "What is it, little one? Do you wanna stay with Daddy? Well too bad, cuz she's not here!"

Anna: "I'm just so sick of it. I thought that getting engaged and marrying you would make me straight…delesbianized, but I just feel so much gayer. All the time."

Kristoff: "It's okay, I don't want you to feel that we have to get married. We have a good thing here. Ring or no ring, I will always be your beard."

Anna: "It's just that…I've been so confused lately…about who I am, about my place. Sexing Elsa."

Kristoff: "Telling a fake drunk story to cover the fact that you totally screwed your sister's brains out in the library during our engagement party is hardly a crime. If that's the worst thing that happened, I consider us pretty lucky."

Kristoff: "I'm surprised he didn't kill you after that. I know of a certain fandom who is eager to line up behind him to put you down."

AUTHOR'S NOTE: I'll have the next chapter out within a week. It'll be Elsa/Anna-centric and will be pretty short. I wanted to add it to this chapter, but ultimately it just didn't work with the rest of the chapter. A special shout out to sedryn for helping with typos and being my human soundboard.