I thought the story needed completion since there was more to the original myth. The next chapter is the final one. Thank you to all who have followed or faved and to those who have kept me going with ideas and kind words, I hope you've enjoyed reading these stories as much as I enjoyed writing them.

Anna held the feather to her lips, tickling her soft pink skin with the lightest touch. She let her fingertips stroke the smooth white span of it, a habit she had developed since the day she picked it up, a day Anna would never forget for so many reasons...

She thought of the feather's beauty and strength, the swan it must have helped to fly, how it remained unchanged and undamaged despite her caresses; Anna carried it under her dress, between her breasts during the day, placed it under her pillow when she slept, stroking it every morning and night, remembering.

Her memories stayed unchanged, too. Memories of those moments remained like footprints in the snow, resounding inside her mind, finding their way into her dreams. Dreams so vivid Anna would wake up touching herself, as if her body was desperate to recreate a sensation close to what she had felt and recalled. When conscious of her actions, Anna continued, rubbing herself in wetness and in want, shuddering in her bed alone, those light late summer early mornings, dreaming those memory-dreams.

The beating rhythm of that heart, loud when she had lain on her lover's flawless white chest, stayed echoing in her ears; Anna's pounded alone now, to a rhythm she liked to think they still shared, wherever that woman was... Anna swore she could taste those lips on hers, honey-sweet and with a hungry tongue... The whiteness of the woman's hands caressing her... How Anna had bent her glistening body towards her lover's, shining bright with water droplets, freckles and snowy-whiteness together in a union of damp flesh.

Her lover was powerful and strange to make Anna remember her so perfectly in intense memories, visions cast by the spell of their bodies, their moans, their sighs...

After she had lifted herself from the bank of the fjord that day, after she had felt that love - for she knew it had been love, more than just pure passion - Anna's heart was empty, like part of herself had strayed. She had done nothing but try to find her lover for the next few days, looking by the fjord and in the forest, in the villages around, asking about a beautiful woman, tall and fair with stunning blue eyes, though no one had seen her or heard of whom she spoke. And Anna only saw the woman in her dreams.

The dreams came to her every night now. It had never been like that before, night-time visions and sensations had always been like special events before that day, and now every time she slept she would dream beautiful, powerful dreams, always of her lover, yet Anna had only seen her once.

There were swans in her dreams, too, although Anna could explain their presence easily. She still saw them every day on the fjord when she bathed, and after when she stood clothed upon the shore, lingering for as long as she could, waiting. Anna watched the swans swim in their pairs, saw how their necks formed a heart when they touched, together forever, and she was alone...

But never did she see the swan from her dreams, the one she had swam with and stroked the day before her lover came.

The dreams gave Anna the company she craved, and although she slept longer, more often than ever, nothing eased the tiredness Anna felt, and soon she grew so weary and so ill that she even had to stop visiting the fjord.

Anna guessed she must have got sick from swallowing the water. Each morning found her feeling terrible, and there was no way she could swim or eat or leave her bed. But it was not just her stomach, all Anna's body ached, especially her breasts; they had turned tender and were growing, making her clothes too tight; she thought she was old enough for her body to have stopped changing, yet it seemed she was wrong.

One day when she felt fresher, Anna took a walk around the land her family owned. She always liked to visit the farm and the houses of the folk who worked there, some of whom had become her friends, and the air and sights and sounds of the land left Anna more cheerful than she had felt in a long time. At least until she spoke to her friend Kristoff, one of the farmhands, and saw him glancing at her figure.

Anna looked at it herself when she returned, studying her body in the mirror. Her breasts bulged over the top of her dress, they would have done anyway since it was summer and she wore low-cut clothes to keep herself cool, though they were different, definitely fuller... Her face had a glow about it, too, not like that of a fever, despite her recent illness. But the weather was warm, and Anna blushed easily - rarely was her face without at least a hint of redness - so she dismissed it. However, the discomfort didn't stop, like growing pains, coming both day and night; she knew she had to visit the village healer.

Anna sat opposite the woman, patiently and honestly answering her questions. She had felt like this for a couple of months. Yes, she was eating just the same as always, but had put on weight. Yes, her back was aching, too. No, Anna realised now that she hadn't bled for a long time...

The healer asked to touch her, felt and prodded her stomach painfully, then looked at Anna and said matter-of-factly, "You're going to have a baby, two by the size of you. Make sure you stay healthy, come back if there's anything wrong. And you should tell whoever is responsible; he has a right to know."

Anna stared into space, mouth agape. Her lover was a woman, Anna had squeezed her breasts, slid her fingers inside her and felt the secret heat and wetness of her womanhood. And she had done the same to Anna with a hot tongue, with skilled and slender fingers. They had made each other shudder...

It was not possible, yet she had no choice but to believe. Anna walked in shock to the temple - the place she knew she'd find some peace - and knelt at the shrine. Look after me, don't leave me alone like she did. Please, Divines... she prayed silently, looking up at the statues, every one in turn, her gaze lingering on the mother goddess she hoped would guide her.

That gave Anna a little more courage, enough to tell her own mother. And her first reaction was to demand who had done it.

"I can't say," Anna replied. And she couldn't, because she did not know who the woman was, had not seen her since and missed her sorely. The emotions all welled up inside, spilling out of Anna's eyes.

Their daughter's tears did not lessen her parents' anger. They looked at her as if she was a stranger, and it was true that part of her was indeed a stranger to them, the part that kept secrets.

For every day after, Anna felt thankful that they did not abandon her, though there was a new distance between them, in their eyes, in their voices, their rarer touches. Her parents were not the only ones to treat her differently. The news travelled fast and soon, when Anna's stomach began to swell and show beneath her clothes, she received stares on the streets of the town, the sound of whispers behind her back.

Anna and her mother spoke, stiltedly though with love and care beneath their words and glances. They talked of the future, a subject that made Anna tremble with fear, and mutually agreed that she should go to Gerda, a wisewoman who lived in the forest. Her mother said it would be a quiet, safe place for Anna where she could hide her shame. Yet Anna was not ashamed - she was many things: confused, scared... but not ashamed - and she did not argue.

A few days later, Anna was getting ready to leave, loading up the cart that would carry her there, wondering when or whether she would see her home again, lifting a suitcase of her clothes, only to have the weight of it taken from her by broad hands she recognised.

"Thanks, Kristoff," she said, turning to look into his kind, brown eyes.

"No problem! So it's true, then. You're leaving."

Anna nodded, seeing all sorts of emotions in his gaze. He glanced at the curve of her stomach.

"And that's true, too. Look, Anna, you can tell me, who was it? Was it Hans? Did he force you?"

She calmed him with a press of her palm upon his arm. "No one forced me, Kristoff. And it wasn't Hans. You'll think I'm crazy if I tell you the truth..."

"I won't judge." He smiled, for a strong, burly man, he could be surprisingly gentle, and he put Anna at ease; besides, she knew Kristoff was not the sort of person to gossip.

She took a deep breath. "It was a woman. I met her by the fjord... I haven't... been with anybody else; she's the only one it could possibly be. Please don't tell..."

Kristoff's eyes widened and he seemed to sense her seriousness, he must have seen the way Anna bit her lip and toyed with her fingers, heard her quietness, none of her usual rambling... And though she was nervous, it felt good to share her secret with someone. Kristoff didn't let her down with his reaction.

"I believe you. I promise I won't tell a soul. If you need anything, just send for me... anytime." He looked at her stomach again. "When the baby's born, come back. I can help you..."

"There are two, actually."

Kristoff's smile didn't quite reach his eyes. "Then you'll definitely need help! Take care of yourself, Anna." He held her in his strong arms, his embrace was warm, yet something stopped Anna from enjoying it completely, something was missing... Kristoff's arms were muscular, not slender... And not what Anna wanted. She remembered her embrace... Nothing could compare to that.

"Goodbye."

By the time the leaves of the trees blushed red with autumn, Anna had settled into a new routine with Gerda and the forest. She learned the forest was a living thing. It had its own moods, and contained more mysteries than the human mind, showing a different side of itself to Anna every day. And she grew to love it, too; the wind in the treetops, the moss on the trunks, flowers, birds singing in the branches, the crunch of leaves as Anna found her way around... It gave her peace.

And Gerda... Anna had never known a kinder woman. She was grey-haired, gentle and knew everything about everything.

"Yes, there are definitely two!" she had said, just by looking at Anna not long after they met, knowing Anna's body better than she did herself. And she cooked the best food Anna had ever tasted. She would always give Anna extra and say, "You're eating for three, dear!"

Gerda was right, of course; Anna needed as much energy as she could get. She could feel those two lives inside her with a deep inner sense. But she could not feel the babies move or kick as they should. And even though everything else felt fine, that made Anna scared. She wished more than ever for the woman who had somehow put these babies inside her; whoever she was, she would know what was happening.

To calm herself and seem normal to Gerda, Anna lied and said the babies kicked, and Gerda seemed to believe her. She obeyed all of the old woman's advice: avoiding some foods, eating more of others, taking care not to fall, not to run.

Life was easier here in the forest. Most days she spent sitting with Gerda, knitting or reading. Sometimes Anna would help her with baking, or in the garden, or gathering herbs and fruit from the forest. Once, they went into the village. It was on the opposite side of the fjord from Anna's own, so no one knew her, and everyone treated her with happiness and care, letting her go first in line, giving up seats, and always smiling with congratulation.

Anna felt as happy as she could be without her. And yet she somehow felt closer here, with the nearness of nature and the nearness of the fjord where it all began. Yet it was a different shore, there were no swans swimming where Anna went to bathe herself, but that did not stop it from being beautiful. She saw it in sun and autumn mist. Those warm mornings when she bathed, Anna watched the sunshine on her breasts, illuminating the red hair flowing over her shoulders, longer and more luxurious than ever. She saw her thighs caressed by the sun's gold light, shifting between the forms of clouds and shining on the curve of her stomach.

The still water sometimes let Anna study her naked reflection, and when she saw it she felt beautiful, though fuller; Anna missed her slim figure, but knew it would return.

She swam there every day until winter came, and even then Anna still visited. On the first frosty morning, she walked through the silent, shimmering forest and stood, still and silent herself, on the fjord's edge, her breath a puff of grey air, evanescent as smoke. The wind ran icy fingers through her hair, and Anna shivered.

The sky released its gift, the first snow of winter. She watched it fall, wide-eyed with wonder. Flakes drifted down as soft and silent as memory, landing, gathering heavily together on Anna's lashes until she had to sweep them away. Some were large like feathers and brushed her skin as light as lover's kisses, to melt on her cheeks like the wisp of a memory; like a lock of white-gold hair falling onto Anna's face...

A sound, rhythmic and eerie, brought Anna from her thoughts: the sound of wings above. She could not see the bird through the flurry, yet heard it clearly overhead, large enough to be a swan...

The deep snow did not stop her either when it settled thickly upon the cold ground and Anna stood again, looking out over the frozen fjord, bundled up in so many layers she was round like a winter pudding. The sky was a white blanket above, the only movement and sound in the silence was her breath misting from her mouth, in front of her face, but Anna did not feel alone.

She placed both gloved hands on her stomach, sensing the presence of the children she carried, yet it wasn't the lives inside her Anna felt, it was something else. Turning, as though in a dream, Anna saw it, a she-wolf, her pale grey sleek shape in the shadows of bare birch trees, looking at Anna with blue eyes, powerful and strange. Their gazes locked for a heartbeat, then the animal padded away between the trees on silent paws. The sight lasted a moment, though she remembered it all through the winter, haunted by those eyes.

Anna spent more time inside when the cold grew too bitter and Gerda wouldn't let her go. Instead, she made things for the babies - clothes, toys, blankets - and her confidence in the future grew; she was proving herself to be a dedicated mother already.

Anna's needs grew, too, and she could only tend to them in her bed. Her hands would pass all over her body, every new curve, lingering on her larger breasts, still sensitive, imagining blue eyes staring up from between her thighs, the memories making her wet. Yet Anna did not touch inside herself from fear, only fondled her breasts, rubbed her hardened bud until she stiffened and shivered; she had to satisfy her secret wants silently, and only sighs passed Anna's lips in the quiet cottage in the night.

Midwinter quickly came and went, a day she loved dearly, but it was different with just herself and Gerda, though not a bad different. Out here, close to nature, Anna noticed the season more than she ever had, saw the darkest day, the low sun, and wondered at the beauty of the world. Her thoughts drifted ahead to next Midwinter, where she would be, how she would cope, what presents she would give her little ones...

Anna's own parents came, bringing gifts and assurance of their love, yet they only stayed for a day, and things were not the same between them, never would be again.

Even so, Anna's hope grew brighter with the days. Spring awoke. The world ripened and blossomed and swelled before Anna's eyes; flowers and leaves and birds in the trees.

Her time was close. She sat, so heavy and huge, and spoke to Gerda, waiting and comforted by the old woman's wisdom. Gerda had prepared Anna since the day she came and told her what to expect. Even before that, Anna had an idea of what was coming. She had been with her friend Rapunzel when she had her baby. It had been a messy and bloody business, but Rapunzel and her husband were so happy afterwards, and busy, too. Anna had hardly seen her friend since.

Anna knew it would be different for herself, so different, in many ways... She was alone, and wanted her lover desperately, wished every day to see her pale blonde beauty, feel her tender caresses.

And every day it was coming closer, the event that would change her life forever.

Anna's body surprised her one day, taking her breath away with tightening pains. It scared Anna more that Gerda was with her, what if something was wrong with the babies? They had not been conceived naturally... She had no idea what the birth would bring, and there was only one woman she wanted there with her to see it.

Luckily for Anna, it had been a false alarm, and the next few days were full of anxious waiting.

Gerda was out in the garden, giving Anna the chance to take a walk, to go to the fjord for a final attempt to see her lover again. Something drew her to the shore, though when she looked out on the still, blue waters, Anna saw nothing. Frustrated tears in her eyes, Anna turned to go back, and the pain came again like a bolt from the blue.

Hurrying, stumbling on weakened legs, Anna tried to get back, scared to be alone; even Gerda's company - and with it the fear of her secret being revealed - was better than none.

The way seemed longer now, her vision clouded by pain, and when Anna fell, she landed on her knees among tree roots, in a soft place like it was made for her from reeds and feathers, a place she had never seen in all her days here, though she lay in it nonetheless.

Anna knew this had been coming, yet the reality was worse than anything she could have imagined. Her body betrayed her with an agony like it was being ripped in half. She tried again to rise and walk through the forest, towards help, but her treacherous body made her stay.

Racked with another spasm, Anna let out a pained cry, echoing through the forest. The spasms were coming harder and faster now. Her body had its own plan, it seemed to know what to do, though still Anna's mind feared. She hoped she would survive for the sake of the babies, they were pieces of herself, pieces of her that they had made together...

Anna tried to shout for help and lost control, her voice could only groan, but she knew to conserve energy, and Anna knew to push. She hadn't thought it possible to hurt any more than this, and wave after wave of pain came. With them, strangely, came memories of kisses and caresses in her mind, and Anna thought how cruel it was that she had paid for her pleasure with this pain.

She did not know how long it lasted, how long she had been lying there, yet the sun was still in the sky when Anna saw what lay between her thighs. Her heart stopped, and it seemed forever that she stared, both horrified and fascinated, at two smooth, heavy white eggs. They were warm to the touch, Anna knew she had to keep them warm. White feathers were strewn all around the nest, she piled handfuls of them round the eggs; precious and hers...

A whir of wings, the same sound she had heard in the winter, came behind, closer, slower, landing. Anna turned.

A swan, beautiful and familiar, folded its noble white wings. Was it this bird's nest in which she lay? Anna did not move, and the bird came up to her. She had to shield her eyes when light surrounded its figure, blindingly bright, and the next thing Anna saw made her heart beat loud and fast in her weary body.

The woman standing there was the most beautiful person Anna had ever seen. More beautiful, seeing her for the second time: those blue eyes, her snow-white skin, hair of lightest gold... The loveliest woman in existence. It was her.

Her lover was beauty in its quintessence with her lustrous hair, allure in her curves and the sway of her hips as she stepped closer. Even now Anna felt a faint desire stir... The woman's red lips were smiling, almost shyly.

To behold her... after everything, she had left Anna, abandoned her, and Anna was a mess of feelings inside; confusion, anger, forgiveness, gladness...

"Who are you?" she managed to ask, her voice raw. "What did you do to me? Wait... you're the swan, and the she-wolf. I can tell. But - "

The other woman interrupted, hesitantly. "You're right."

Her voice... Anna had only heard her sigh and moan all those months ago, and now to hear her speaking words... Anna's anger melted with every sound she made.

"I gave you my gift and my love because you're worthy, Anna, and I love you." She knelt down beside Anna, looking right into her eyes, and she couldn't look away, not even to blink.

"My name is Elsa," she continued. "You wouldn't understand my powers, Anna. I'm not from your world. Do you... Do you regret it?"

Anna thought it all through deeply. She had given her body willingly to this woman, to Elsa. But she had not known, had not been told what that would entail... And what it had entailed had been a surprise, but not a completely unpleasant one... And there was Elsa's beauty, her magic all around; Anna could feel it in the air, a certain sweetness. With it, the familiar feeling of completion now Elsa was here. She had accepted Elsa's gift and given Elsa the gift of her body and her love in return, though something in Elsa's eyes said she could undo it all at Anna's word, and there was a worry there, a fear...

"No," Anna said. "I don't regret it at all."

Elsa smiled, and oh, how Anna wanted to touch her, to assure herself that this was real, not another dream. Elsa's words helped her realise it was, and brought relief, a relief to Anna that she was loved, even after everything.

"I only left to make sure you were strong enough... But I watched you all the time, I watched until you were ready."

She leaned closer then, her eyes becoming all that Anna could see, and in their blue depths, Anna could see that Elsa still wanted her. And she could feel it in her kiss, a passionate pressing of lips that made Anna's whole body flutter and all her fading pain subside.

Slender white fingers undressed her gently, undoing her blouse without a hunger, without the desire to make love, only to show love, and in her tenderness Elsa seemed to know that Anna was still sore.

Her breasts were revealed, round and swollen, milk now leaking from their tips, yet Elsa admired them. Their eyes met, hers showing pure joy reaching them from her smile, and Anna felt a matching smile rise to her own lips.

The softest sound made their heads turn, blonde and red hair flowing with their movements. It came from the eggs, now hatching. Lifting the white shells off, Anna could see inside were two human babies, both girls, pink and perfect, identical with ginger-gold hair; she could hear their little breaths, see their tiny fingers. Their mothers held them, taking one each into their arms where they curled up, skin to skin.

Anna couldn't speak, she was simply too overawed with wonder. She knew to love those little lives, to give them all she had. She saw Elsa looking at their daughters with tears and the same love in her eyes, so happy. Her hand reached out to stroke the hair of the baby Anna held, a touch of welcome.

The four of them remained in that happiness forever, Elsa, Anna and their daughters, the four of them all in joy, divinity and love; a family.