Disclaimer: After 18 months and 165K words...I still don't own Frozen

-Six months later-

"I, Elsa Christianne Katarina Kjarensen Frostahl, do solemnly swear that I will govern the Kingdom of Arendelle in accordance with our laws and traditions; that I will defend and preserve, with all my power, the independence and territory of the Kingdom; that I will protect the freedom and the rights of all its citizens, as a just and true Queen should do. This I promise before God Almighty."

Elsa lowered her right hand. The First Justice of the High Court of Arendelle gave her a slight bow and stepped back. Elsa turned to face the full assembly of the Nasjonsting, clasping her hands in front of her to hide their trembling. She'd been in this chamber a hundred times before, but this time…she felt like an imposter. A little girl pretending to be a queen.

Oh, she looked the part well enough, she knew, wearing a simple but superbly tailored black mourning dress, the red sash of the Royal Order of Saint Tove draped diagonally across her body. Her hair was swept up in an elegant chignon, topped by a tiny white-gold tiara with a flawless sapphire nestled in the center. But looking like a queen didn't actually make her a queen, and Elsa could not quite shake the feeling that she had somehow stepped through a portal into an alternate universe.

Suppressing the urge to wring her hands together, she instead raised them, signaling the councilors to take their seats. Then she stepped to the podium, gazing out over the semicircular chamber. An enormous chandelier hung over the center, its light reflecting in the hundreds of tiny gold crocuses woven into the green and purple patterned carpet. A room steeped in Arendelle's tradition and history. She could practically feel the weight of that history pressing down on her shoulders. She was twenty-five years old - how could she possibly live up to that tradition?

I have to. I don't have a choice.

She took a deep breath and in a clear, steady voice, addressed her nation for the first time as its Queen.

"As I accept the honor of leading Arendelle, I would like to express to our citizens that I hope to have a close and productive working relationship with their elected representatives. It will be of the utmost importance as we face the challenges of the future."

She paused for a moment, taking in the faces of the councilors – some smiling, some impassive, but all attentive. So many of them were familiar to her – would they be able to put aside their notions of Elsa Kjarensen and work with Queen Elsa in the best interests of the country?

That was a worry for another time.

"The enormous outpouring of sympathy over the last two days has made it clear that the people of Arendelle share my grief and heartbreak over the passing of King Haldor. The candlelight vigils, flowers, and handwritten notes in the Castle courtyard, along with the condolence messages from throughout the country, have provided me with immeasurable consolation."

Elsa gripped the podium to still her shaking hands, then immediately let go when frost started crawling across the wood. Her powers were not public knowledge, and now was hardly the time to reveal them. She wasn't really sure there ever be a good time to reveal them.

She swallowed and continued, "And now I must ask you for that same heartfelt support as we make our way forward. Ours is a country in transition, and it is with great humility that I step into a line of revered kings and queens. My royal duties begin with a sense of community. The warmth of a whole nation surrounds me and gives me strength in this difficult time. We are a small country, but together we can accomplish great things."

Elsa stepped back from the podium, feeling that her first great accomplishment was getting through her (thankfully) short speech. The councilors stood, and she acknowledged them with a nod of her head before exiting the chamber. Her guards escorted her out of the building and into a waiting staff car.

She slumped back against the seat and closed her eyes as the car pulled away from the Nasjonsting.

"Are you all right, Your Majesty?" her bodyguard asked.

It took her a moment to respond. It wasn't the first time she'd been addressed as 'Your Majesty' – that had happened the night Gerda had awakened her to tell her that Haldor had passed away - but that title still hadn't quite set in for her. Hell, she'd barely gotten used to being called 'Your Highness.'

Everything had happened so fast. Too fast. She remembered the grief and panic – culminating in a small but violent blizzard in her bedroom – that had nearly consumed her when Gerda wakened her that night. When she had finally pulled herself together, she'd been whisked into a special midnight Council of State, where an official announcement was made to the people of Arendelle. And here she was, two days later, swearing the Queen's Oath in the Nasjonsting.

She opened her eyes and turned her head. "I thought we had an agreement, Kristoff."

Kristoff Bjorgman cocked an eyebrow at her. "We're not alone," he said, waving vaguely at the driver."

Elsa sighed. "As you say."

They rode in silence back to the Castle, the car entering the grounds through the tunnel under the fjord. The driver followed a narrow vehicle path along the back wall to the south side of Arendelle Chapel. Kristoff got out and opened Elsa's door for her, then followed her through the royal family's private entrance into the church.

Haldor's casket rested on a bier in front of the altar, draped with Arendelle's purple and green national flag. The King's Crown set on top of the casket, where it would remain until after the funeral service, three days from now.

The soldiers standing honor guard around the bier stiffened even more when she approached. "Your Majesty," the sergeant of the guard greeted. Elsa nodded in acknowledgement, then went to the prie-deux and knelt. But instead of praying, she just stared at Haldor's casket, torn between grief and anger.

Damn you, why did you have to go? I'm not ready for this!

In the end, Haldor had given himself back to Arendelle, taking Elsa under his wing and preparing her to ascend to the throne. For the last several months, they had spent every day together, for as many hours as possible, given her injuries and his illness. Her days became an endless cycle of medical exams and physical therapy followed by hours spent buried in dusty law and history tomes, and meetings with ministers and sub-ministers about the state of Arendelle's economy and its relationships with other countries.

Haldor proved to be a tough taskmaster, determined to make sure that she was as prepared as possible. Elsa suspected that he was at least partly driven by guilt, and was determined to make up for his years of neglect. But she had grown to respect and even love him. It had been painful to watch him deteriorate, especially as she herself grew stronger every day.

Elsa put a hand to her chest, pressing against the sudden ache there. I miss you already, Cousin. I'll miss your wisdom. How am I going to do this by myself?

It was just a few weeks ago that she had been on her knees right here at this prie-deux, head bowed as the Bishop of Arendelle blessed her, sanctifying Haldor's declaration of Elsa as his heir, Her Royal Highness the Crown Princess of Arendelle.

And now she was the Queen.

The actual coronation wouldn't take place until July, on Saint Tove's Day, when she would stand in front of the altar and the Bishop would declare her Verðug dróttning stór, Worthy Queen of Greatness.

But the responsibility was already hers.

She blinked back a few tears. She mourned not only what she had personally lost, but what Arendelle had lost as well. Haldor may have been ill, but his mind had still been sharp. Why, oh why, had he deprived Arendelle of his leadership for twenty-five years?

She finally closed her eyes and murmured a prayer, the words coming automatically to her lips even after so long away from the Church. She crossed herself and rose just as Bishop Lofthus approached and said, "Your Majesty, we are ready to open the chapel to the public."

Elsa nodded, and left the chapel through the private door. Bypassing the car, she followed a covered walkway that led from the chapel around to the garden entrance to the Castle's residential wing. She paused there for a moment, staring up at the huge stone-and-wood structure, its steep roofs and large eaves casting shadows over everything around it.

Including her.

Kristoff trailed behind her as she went inside and climbed a curved staircase. But instead of entering her private apartments – which were enclosed on all sides, rather like a separate house built entirely inside the Castle - she turned away from the guarded door and walked down the wide corridor toward the King's office.

The Queen's office, she reminded herself. My office…

"You're going to work?" Kristoff asked, sounding surprised.

"The business of the Kingdom is never-ending," she replied with a wry smile. Kristoff frowned, but opened the office door for her. "There's no need for you to hang around, Kristoff. I don't have any other engagements today."

"Well, no. Everyone else is off today, you know. You could at least relax for a little bit. Change your clothes. I'll have the kitchen send up tea. No one expects you to work today, Elsa."

She bit back a little laugh. Kristoff was equal parts bodyguard and mother hen. She suspected that was why Colonel Gunnarsen had lured him over from the National Police. If she was going to have to spend her days in the company of a large armed man wearing a suit and sunglasses, it was best if she was comfortable with him. And despite the circumstances that had initially brought them together, she was comfortable with him.

As much as it was possible for her to be, anyway.

"Some tea would be nice," she conceded.

Kristoff nodded and went to the secretary's desk to call the kitchen. Elsa went into the King's office. Your office, the little voice in her head corrected. She took one look at the big desk and stopped short.

According to legend, the massive piece of furniture was made from the oak of the first langskip to ever sail into the fjord, putting ashore a fierce band of warriors who built the nation that would become Arendelle. Elsa wasn't sure she believed that – after all, her country had almost a thousand years of recorded history – but it certainly looked like it, gnarled with age despite its polished finish.

"Why shouldn't I believe it?" she murmured to herself. She conjured a small snowstorm in her palm. A thousand-year-old desk isn't that odd compared to this…

She had yet to actually sit behind the desk. And though all of her work had been moved from the smaller office down the hall, she had no desire to sit behind it now.

She clenched her fist over the swirling snowflakes. I need some air.

She crossed the room and opened a set of double doors that led out to a small balcony overlooking the front courtyard. Arendelle was still brushing away the remnants of its long winter, but the early spring day was sunny and unseasonably warm. Elsa closed her eyes as the breeze from the fjord blew across her face. She stepped out onto the balcony.

"Oh…"

The late afternoon sun spilled across the huge throng in the courtyard. The citizens of Arendelle had come to pay their respects to the late King. The queue in front of the chapel was five or six across and stretched back through the gates and well onto the bridge. People not in line milled around the courtyard, adding their wreaths and floral tributes to the thousands already lining the walls.

Before she could step back, a cry of "The Queen!" went up from the crowd.

Shouts of "Your Majesty!" and "Queen Elsa!" rippled through the courtyard, and soon every eye was turned her way.

Elsa's first instinct was to retreat, especially when she heard Kristoff's angry protests filter out through the balcony door. The last thing she wanted was to cause a stir that would pull attention away from the chapel. But she could see the trust, the hope, in the faces closest to the Castle, and knew that she needed to acknowledge it. So she stepped up to the railing and raised her hand to wave. A cheer went up, along with cries of "Long live the Queen!" and "Our beautiful Queen!"

A wave of warmth washed over her as she listened to the cheers. She just hoped that she could live up to her people's apparent faith in her.

After a few minutes, Elsa decided she should probably go back inside before Kristoff had a coronary, or worse, gave into his instincts and hauled her away bodily. His muted griping faded into a sigh of relief as she waved one last time before stepping through the doors and closing them behind her.

"What were you thinking?" Kristoff scolded her. "Do you know how exposed you are out there?"

"I just needed some air," Elsa replied.

Kristoff ran his hand through his hair. "Gunnarsen may kill us both for that, you know. I can already picture that vein throbbing…"

"Me too." Elsa couldn't help but giggle a little at the mental image of Colonel Gunnarsen, his face red and that big purple vein in his temple pounding like a drum. "He might have a stroke before he can kill either one of us."

"Yeah, he might," Kristoff said. "But seriously, Elsa, there are plenty of other places where you can get some air besides the balcony that faces the public courtyard."

"I know. I just wasn't thinking. I apologize now for any trouble this might cause you, Kristoff."

He waved it off. "I can handle Gunnarsen, don't worry. I called for some tea for you. It should be up soon. I'll check on you in a little while. Stay out of trouble, okay?"

"I'll try," she said with a little smile. He gave her a slight bow and left the office.

Elsa took a deep breath and sat down at her desk. An enormous weight seemed to settle over her. She reached up and removed the tiara, placing it carefully on the desk. Then she took off the sash of Saint Tove and laid it beside the tiara.

It made no difference. She imagined she could still feel the tiara weighing down on her head with an unrelenting pressure. How could such tiny thing be so heavy?

Her eyelids fluttered, and she sank back in the chair, suddenly bone-weary. She had made remarkable progress, medically speaking, though she still tired easily and had yet to regain all the weight she had lost.

Her strange abilities had contributed to her progress, she was quite sure, but her doctor refused to speculate on that. Elsa could tell that her ice powers bothered him more than he let on, because he couldn't explain them. Curious herself, she allowed him to analyze a number of blood samples, but he found no explanation. Her DNA test had shown nothing out of the ordinary. He'd finally thrown his hands up in frustration and concluded that they were just a part of her.

God-given, the Bishop said.

Elsa wasn't so sure about that.

Either way, she wasn't entirely convinced that this weariness was related to her physical health.

There was a knock at the door, and Elsa started. Did I fall asleep?

The door opened and a maid – Dagmar, she thought – came in with a tea tray. "The tea you asked for, Your Majesty." She set the tray on the small table beside the desk and poured a cup for Elsa.

"Thank you, Dagmar."

"My pleasure, ma'am," Dagmar said. She gestured at the sash and tiara. "Would you like for me to take those to the Chamberlain? She will make sure they are put away properly."

"Yes, please."

Dagmar took the regalia and left the office. Elsa watched the door close behind her. Even with the muted buzz of the crowd in the courtyard, the office suddenly seemed to take on an oppressive silence.

It occurred to her that despite being constantly surrounded by people, she had never felt quite so alone.

When he got no response to his light knock, Kristoff eased open the office door and stuck his head inside. The Queen – Elsa – sat at her desk, one elbow on the chair's armrest, hand supporting her head. A tablet was propped up on her lap. Kristoff shook his head. She obviously had yet to leave the office, since she still wore the black dress from the oath-taking ceremony hours before. He wondered if she'd even eaten anything.

She didn't look up when he stepped inside, and at first he thought she was sleeping. Then he saw he saw her flick her wrist, almost absently, and snowflakes streamed from her fingertips. Kristoff watched in wonder as they swirled into the center of the room, coalescing into…

A snowman?

It was. A little snowman, about three feet tall, with a goofy buck-toothed grin, now stood in the middle of the Queen's office. As he watched, Elsa flicked her hand again, and a pair of black-framed reading glasses swooped from the desk and settled on the snowman's face. He seemed to be such a happy fellow that Kristoff couldn't help but smile.

He moved closer to the desk, and saw that the snowman wasn't the only thing Elsa had created. Her desk was covered with miniature ice sculptures. There was a reindeer, a sled, a fountain that bubbled with snowflakes instead of water, and a perfect small-scale replica of Elsa's mountain house, each as sparkling as a flawless gem.

Almost as flawless as their creator, Kristoff thought, feeling a warm swell of affection for his Queen. He'd come to admire Elsa during their time as NP agent and witness – her brilliance, her laser-like focus, the single-minded toughness beneath her beautiful exterior. His admiration had only deepened since he became her personal bodyguard and seen the selfless devotion she had for her country.

He knew Colonel Gunnarsen disapproved of how he interacted with Elsa. It wasn't appropriate for Kristoff to be so…familiar with his principal. But Elsa was still a person, possibly the loneliest person in the kingdom, and even Gunnarsen wasn't going to begrudge the young Queen a friend.

As he watched, she waved her hand again, and a small, shimmering motorcycle formed in the middle of the desk, right on top of a stack of letters.

"You're getting really good at that," Kristoff said.

Elsa jumped, letting out a little cry, and a gust of arctic air blew around him. Her tablet tumbled to the floor.

"I'm sorry, Your Majesty, I didn't mean to startle you." He picked up the tablet.

She cocked an exasperated eyebrow at him as she stretched her hand out for the device. "Kristoff…"

"I'm sorry, Elsa," he corrected. But he withheld the tablet. "You need to take a break, you haven't even changed your clothes. What's so important?"

Elsa rubbed the bridge of her nose. "Just going over the final accounting from Weselton's assets. There may be entire countries that don't control as much wealth as he did. Yet he wasn't satisfied with that. He just had to have more."

Kristoff snorted. In his opinion, Weselton should have been executed for treason. King Haldor had thought so too. He had refused to delegate the Crown's Justice to the courts for the case, and had been on the verge of ordering gallows built in the courtyard. But Elsa had talked him out of hanging the little troll. Arendelle hadn't executed anyone in over a hundred years, and she didn't want to start that again.

So instead, for the crime of high treason, King Haldor had stripped Weselton of his citizenship and exiled him, declaring his assets escheat to the Crown. The repugnant little man would spend the rest of his life as a stateless refugee, dependent on the charity of some relatives on the Continent.

And Westergard… hanging was too good for him. He was a foreign national who had committed murder, and attempted to assassinate a member of Arendelle's royal family, which by any definition was an act of war. The fact that he hadn't known that Elsa was a royal had no bearing. He had tried to steal the Crocus Throne. He should have been drawn and quartered. But Elsa just wanted him gone.

So instead of swinging by his neck, Westergard had been banished, never to return to Arendelle under pain of death. Anxious to avoid a diplomatic nightmare, the government of the Southern Isles had been quick to agree to the terms. King Haldor nationalized all the Westergard interests in Arendelle, and Westergard himself would spend the rest of his life under house arrest at his family's estate in the Southern Isles.

Kristoff had personally escorted Westergard to the airport in shackles. The man had broken down in despair when he saw that two of his brothers had come with the Southern Isles' security team to take custody of him. He had actually begged Kristoff to take him back to Arendelle's dungeons. The brothers had assured Kristoff that Westergard would be far more miserable facing their father's wrath than he would ever be in prison.

Given Westergard's collapse into near-hysteria as the security team dragged him off, Kristoff thought that perhaps he'd gotten what he deserved after all.

Elsa took the tablet from him. "Anyway," she continued, "I've decided to use his assets to set up a fund to care for the families of National Police agents who are killed in the line of duty. And to reward citizens who render services to the Crown, like…"

Her voice trailed off, and she tossed the tablet onto the desk, sending a document fluttering to the floor. Kristoff retrieved it for her. The words "marriage contract" fairly leaped off the paper at him, and he found himself reading the letter without thinking.

…proposal of a marriage contract between Henckel Graf von und zu Weissenfels of Upper Silesia and the Crown Princess Elsa of Arendelle…

Kristoff stared at the letter, appalled. What is this, the fucking eighteenth century? I knew there'd been talk about her needing to produce heirs, but I didn't realize…she hasn't even fully recovered from her injuries, for fuck's sake, and they're trying to marry her off already?

"Ahem."

Kristoff jerked his head up, a brilliant blush spreading across his face as Elsa plucked the paper from his fingers. He straightened up. "I'm so sorry, Your Majesty, that was completely out of line, and I – "

Elsa waved her hand in a forget-about-it gesture, then pointed at the stack of papers under the little ice motorcycle. "It's not the only one. It seems that every unattached male in the Northern Realms or on the Continent who has even one drop of royal blood circulating in his inbred veins feels the need to 'merge our noble houses'."

She shoved the letter into the stack. "I suspect what they really want is to merge their 'noble-but-miniscule' bank accounts with the Crown Treasury of Arendelle." She sank back into her chair and sighed.

Kristoff felt the temperature dip, a sure sign of Elsa's distress. She fluttered her fingers a bit, and the motorcycle sculpture on the desk pulsed with a faint blue glow. Then it seemed to change colors, taking on a greenish cast. Kristoff leaned over to examine it more closely.

It had changed colors, and Kristoff sucked in a breath as he recognized it – an exact replica, down to the license plate number, of Anna Aarndahl's green Honda Rebel. It looked so real, he swore he could almost hear the engine throbbing.

Something else caught his eye – a corner of newspaper sticking out from under the stack of letters from inbred nobility. Taking a chance, he eased the newspaper out. It wasn't a whole newspaper, just a front-page clipping from the Arendelle Daily Standard. That now-notorious picture of Anna, breaking Hans Westergard's nose in the Nasjonsting.

He looked down at Elsa, who refused to meet his gaze. The color was high in her face, and he thought he saw ice forming around her fingertips as she wrung her hands together.

"Elsa. You know you have a say in all this, right?"

She looked up at him, her face an impassive mask, and he hoped he wasn't overstepping his bounds. "Don't let those assholes on the Council guilt you into anything. Please, don't let their fear drive you to do something that will make you miserable."

"But can you really blame them, Kristoff? A few more inches…" Her hand went to her chest, rubbing in a little circle. "We could have ceased to exist as a sovereign nation. Or maybe worse, kept our sovereignty and been ruled by those…criminals."

"You're barely out of your hospital bed. Besides, if you're going to be the Queen that Arendelle needs – deserves – you don't need some chinless halfwit dragging you down. You need someone who can help you bear the burden. Someone you can trust and…" he tapped a fingertip on Anna's picture, "…love."

Elsa buried her face in her hands for a moment. When she looked up, she was the picture of anguish. "I know you've seen the tabloids, Kristoff. Any moderately wealthy, halfway decent-looking man who walks through the gates becomes a target of speculation, hounded by the press. There are still rumors about me and Agdar, for God's sake! He still can't get away from the vultures, and he married Idunn over a month ago!" She scowled at him. "And don't look at me like that. I know you've seen the pictures of you and me, too."

"Well, yeah, but the scum that work for those fishwraps don't pester me much," Kristoff said, but his neck heated up anyway. Yes, he'd seen the photos, the innuendos implied in the way he held Elsa's elbow or touched the small of her back when guiding her in and out of cars and buildings. There had even been one taken in the gardens, a grainy mobile phone pic that suggested much more than it actually showed. The groundskeeper responsible had immediately lost his job, and a livid Gunnarsen had threatened the entire staff.

"Of course they don't pester you, you're a walking side of beef who gets paid to be violent on my behalf." Elsa slumped in her chair and covered her eyes. "I can't…I can't subject her to all that, Kristoff, I just can't. It would be so unfair…"

He crossed his arms and stared at her. "So you're going to make that decision for both of you, Your Majesty? You're not going to give her a say or ask her if she thinks you're worth it? Not going to give Anna a choice in all this? It's her life too, you know."

She glared at him, and the temperature in the room dropped sharply. He stood his ground and glared right back, willing himself not to shiver. "So which is more unfair?" he asked.

The staredown went on for a full minute, but Elsa looked away first. Her anger seemed to dissipate, replaced by a wistful melancholy, and she stretched her hand out to run a finger over the little green motorcycle.

"I don't know what to do," she said finally.

"I have an idea."

He told her what he had in mind. Part of his brain screamed at him that it was a crazy idea, that he was way out of line, that Gunnarsen would have his ass for breakfast when he found out. But all of that was obscured by Elsa's smile, the first real one he'd ever seen from her, a smile that could light the sky.

"Give me a few minutes to change," she said.

Anna shifted her weight carefully, each foot firmly planted on a branch and her back pressed against the tree's trunk for support. She raised her camera and aimed it over the fence at the back deck of a townhouse, focusing on the paunchy, fifty-ish man lounging in the hot tub, a goofy grin plastered on his face. The object of the man's grin sauntered into the frame, wearing nothing but a red thong, and handed him a cocktail. Anna's camera clicked and whirred as she took a series of high-resolution shots.

Anna was staking out the hideaway townhouse of the man, a partner in a venture-capital firm who was about to be put through a very nasty divorce proceeding. Anna had been hired by his long-suffering (and many-times-cheated-upon) wife to dig up dirt on her hubby. The guy had stock options worth several hundred million kroners, and the wife wanted a hefty chunk of it.

It hadn't taken her long to collect a mountain of dirt. Unfortunately for him, the guy had recently discovered a fondness for nubile male flesh, and over the past couple of weeks, Anna had photographed a veritable parade of tall, lithe, and relatively hair-free young men strutting through the premises.

The specimen visiting the townhouse tonight couldn't have been a day older than Anna herself. He was definitely of the smoldering Latin variety, with a head full of thick dark curls and abs you could bounce a ten-skilling coin off of. God, he looks like he's been Photoshopped. Those stock options must be really nice. Or maybe it was the hubby's bald head and poochy belly.

Nah, it's gotta be the stock options.

She clicked off a few more pics of the young Adonis as he descended the stairs into the oversized hot tub, then lowered the camera when the hubby pulled him closer and tugged his thong down. She had no desire to watch what came next. Besides, she'd collected enough garbage on the guy – including some embarrassing shots of a late-night hot tub romp with two naked Romeos who looked barely old enough to shave – to make him give up ninety percent of his net worth just to keep everything out of court. The pictures probably wouldn't sit too well with the other partners in Mr. Stock Options' firm.

The camera went into her backpack, hanging on a branch next to her, then she slung it over her shoulder, climbed down the tree, and crept out of the little park. It was getting close to midnight, and she probably needed go home. Feed Marshmallow, maybe play some video games with Olaf, if he was still awake.

Anna's life had taken on a routine most kindly described as obsessive monotony. She got up early and worked out, running miles through the city at a punishing pace or pounding on her heavy bag until she thought her body would give out. Then she went to work and went at it nonstop, eating from streetcarts and fast-food joints before stumbling home and trying to sleep. But most of the time, she couldn't sleep, and would end up playing video games with Olaf into the wee hours, knocking off only when his mom angrily ordered them both to bed.

She felt bad for getting Olaf into trouble, and tried to cut back on the gaming. But then she found herself prowling her apartment all night, staring out the windows and wondering about what-ifs and other things that she had absolutely no control over.

Like Elsa.

Queen Elsa now, she reminded herself, feeling a wave of self-pity. If it had been any of her other failed love affairs, she would have spent a few nights with a bottle of booze, crying her way into a drunken stupor, and then pushed it aside and gotten on with her life. And she'd tried that, God knew she'd tried it, but she just couldn't get away.

At first, it had been Kristoff and Agdar, keeping her updated on how Elsa was doing. And she appreciated it, she really did, but after a while, they could see how painful it was for her, and their calls and texts got fewer and farther between, until they just stopped altogether. And then it was the news media, with their speculation about Elsa's health and the constant digging into her background. Even then, Anna had weathered it, and thought she would be able to move on.

Then had come Elsa's first public appearance, and Anna's carefully constructed walls collapsed.

It was Yule morning, and Elsa had attended the traditional service in Arendelle Chapel, the first such appearance by a royal in years. Even on TV, Anna could see how thin and drawn Elsa looked, a pale shadow of her former self. But she was still breathtakingly beautiful, and Anna's heart soared and broke at the same time.

Anna crawled into a bottle and stayed there until the New Year.

It only got worse after that. There were a few more public appearances – Elsa opening the new legislative session in the King's stead; standing before the Nasjonsting for her affirmation as the heir; kneeling in Arendelle Chapel while the Bishop sanctified her as the Crown Princess. Every time she saw Elsa on TV, Anna forgot how to breathe.

The tabloids were the worst – gossipy rags not worthy of lining Marshmallow's crate that speculated endlessly on the young Queen's possible relationships with men ranging from Agdar to Kristoff to every inbred baron on the Continent. Thank God they had never learned the truth about Anna and Elsa. Anna's face-punch to Hans had been written off as an ugly spat between former lovers, and the paparazzi had quickly lost interest in her.

But jealousy still reared its ugly head every time she saw pictures of Elsa and Kristoff. Guilt always followed quickly. Guilt for feeling jealous when she knew there was nothing between them. Guilt for being happy that there was nothing between them, because Kristoff was a good man, and Elsa deserved a good man. If she was going to have to marry, she could do so much worse than Kristoff.

Anna sighed and ran her hand through her bangs. Of all the people in the world to fall in love with, she had ended up falling for a queen.

Still, she thought as she walked down the block to where she'd parked her motorcycle, there had been a few positives. Helga Sinclair, impressed with how she'd handled the Weselton surveillance, had steered a lot of business her way, all of it high-quality and high-paying. She found she had a gift for corporate penetration testing, and after a few freelance jobs, she'd been offered a full-time position with a security consulting firm. But she turned it down, knowing she was not cut out for the nine-to-five grind. Anna liked being her own boss.

And she'd tentatively reconnected with her remaining family. She saw Rapunzel and Eugene regularly, and she was godmother to their baby daughter Sunny, a chubby, golden-haired bundle of delight. She'd even reconciled with her aunt and uncle.

Anna cranked up her bike and headed home. Life is good, she told herself. Her business was thriving, she had her family back, she wasn't dead, and she'd helped to save her country. All good things.

So why am I still so miserable?

When she watched Elsa take the Queen's Oath in the Nasjonsting earlier today, it felt as though a door had slammed in her face forever.

She stopped in front of her apartment house and rolled her bike around to the side, parking it beneath a metal overhang. A black car with tinted windows pulled up to the curb next to her. Anna eyed it suspiciously, and when its engine turned off and the driver's door opened, she reached around to touch the pistol at the small of her back. Had the naughty venture capitalist noticed her and sent some muscle to teach the nosy little PI a lesson?

God, she almost hoped so. Kicking the crap out of someone might be just the endorphin boost that she needed right now.

Only one person got out of the car. A hulking, man-shaped shadow. Anna's hand dipped into her backpack for her taser, stopping only when she heard a man's voice say, "Anna?"

The man moved closer, and the meager glow from the streetlamp fell across his face. "Kristoff?"

"Shhh!" Kristoff said, putting a finger to his lips. Then he grabbed her arm and propelled her toward the car.

"What the fuck - ?" Before she could mount any resistance, Kristoff yanked open the car's back door and thrust her inside, slamming the door behind her. She grabbed at the door handle. "Kristoff, what the hell?!"

"Hello, Anna."

Anna froze. She hadn't even realized that she wasn't alone in the back seat. That voice…

She spun around and found herself looking directly into the crystal-blue eyes of Queen Elsa of Arendelle.

"Oh my God…"

Before she could stop herself, she threw her arms around Elsa. Elsa stiffened in surprise and a flurry of frigid air whirled around them. Anna jerked back, mortified. "I'm so sorry! Did I hurt you? I'm not supposed to touch you, am I? There are rules about touching royalty, and you're the Queen now, and I'm not allowed to touch you without permission, right? I'm so sorry for - "

Her verbal hemorrhage was cut off by a pair of warm lips pressing against hers.

Before she could react, Elsa pulled back. "You were rambling," she said with a small smile, reaching up to touch Anna's cheek. "And you never have to ask if you can touch me." She drew Anna back into a hug.

Anna buried her face in Elsa's shoulder, breathing her in, lightheaded with the subtle hints of winter pine and spearmint. Elsa seemed almost…fragile in her arms, the bones of her spine and shoulder blades prominent even under the layers of clothing. Anna wanted to squeeze her tighter, to make sure she couldn't slip away, but was afraid she would shatter like a porcelain doll.

"I've missed you," she mumbled into Elsa's hair.

"I've missed you too." Elsa's hand traced circles on her back before sliding up to stroke her hair. "I don't think I really knew how much until today."

Anna broke the hug and slid her hands up to cradle Elsa's face. She just couldn't stop looking at her. The woman in the car with her seemed a world apart from the regal queen she'd seen on TV earlier. Instead of being in the elegant updo, her white-blond hair draped over her shoulder in a loose braid, stray tendrils of it falling around her face, and she was dressed casually in jeans and a blue blouse and sweater. This, this was the woman Anna had fallen for in a mountain hideaway all those months ago.

Her fingertips grazed over Elsa's features, tracing over the delicately arched brows and high cheekbones before tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. Elsa's breath hitched, and Anna let her fingers trail down to the base of her throat, stilling her hand for just a moment before pushing the collar of her blouse aside.

"Oh, Elsa…" she whispered, tears welling when she saw the puckered round scar just below Elsa's collarbone.

Elsa put her own hand over Anna's, pressing it flat against her chest, where Anna could feel the reassuring tha-thump of her heart. "It's getting better," she said. "I think…it might be my powers, healing it somehow. They're all getting better." She gestured vaguely at her torso with her other hand, and Anna cringed a little as she recalled Elsa's emergency surgeries.

I wonder how many scars she has from all this. God knows I have a few…

As though sensing her thoughts, Elsa said, "When I get a little stronger, I can have plastic surgery. If I still need it." Then she smiled. "But until then, no low-cut gowns for me."

Anna's fingers drifted back to brush over the scar. Elsa trembled, and then her lips were on Anna's, soft and gentle, yet still insistent. A brief flash of panic - but she's the Queen! – before the warmth of Elsa's breath drove it away, then her lips parted and Elsa's tongue touched her own.

When the kiss broke, Anna kept her eyes closed, struggling to get her breathing under control. "Elsa…maybe I shouldn't…I don't want to sound…why…?"

Why now? Why me, when you could have anyone in the world?

"When I was sitting in my big empty office today, feeling sorry for myself and trying to rationalize why I shouldn't see you…someone…wise…pointed out that it wasn't just me being affected by that decision. That it was your life too, and you're entitled to a say in it." She cut her eyes toward the outside of the car, where Kristoff stood vigilant, and Anna suddenly knew without a doubt who that someone wise was.

Elsa dropped her eyes to her lap, where her hands wrung together. "And I realized that I was being presumptuous, that I had taken your choices away from you. Again. Just like I did before, up in the mountains."

Anna caressed her cheek, then asked, "But why me? I'm hardly – "

"Because I love you."

Anna suddenly had trouble drawing breath, and she could barely hear Elsa over the pounding of her heart.

"Besides," Elsa said with a sly smile, "given how the Kjarensen branch of the family tree came to be, I'm not the first Frostahl queen to have a taste for somewhat…scandalous relationships."

"Oh my God," Anna managed before Elsa pulled her into another kiss, soft and sweet and lingering, and when they parted, she asked, "What do we do now?"

Elsa brought her hands up in front of her. Snow spiraled between her palms, forming a ball that grew larger and larger, Elsa shaping and sculpting, and when the glow of her magic faded, she held a brilliant blue motorcycle helmet, made entirely of ice.

"Whoa…" Anna whispered. When she met Elsa's eyes, she saw them dancing with mischief.

"So what do you say?" Elsa grinned as she pulled the helmet on and flipped up the faceplate. "Wanna go for a ride?"

Anna's jaw dropped for a second, then she grinned and grabbed Elsa's hand, almost jerking her arm from its socket as she dragged her out of the car.

"Hey!" Kristoff's voice rose in protest as Anna pulled Elsa over to her Honda. They ignored him. Anna shoved her helmet on and they jumped on the bike. Just before she cranked it up, they heard Kristoff moan, "Oh shit, Gunnarsen's gonna kill me…"

"Hang on!" Anna said as Elsa's arms circled her waist. "I like to go fast!"

She gunned the engine and roared off down the street, her heart soaring as Elsa's delighted laughter rang in her ears.

The End

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A/N: And it really is this time. Mounds and mounds of gratitude to everyone who faved, followed, and reviewed! I hope you enjoyed the ride as much as I did! I honestly didn't think I would ever get this level of response to the story. It's been a definite labor of love.

A few people I want to call out: Vesfarhloc, my immensely helpful (and probably long-suffering!) beta reader - thank you so much for your comments, perspectives, and attention to detail. Grrlgeek72, for your patience, sense of humor, and absolute refusal to let me be lazy or take the easy way out of anything. And last but not least, Issandri, who has been with me pretty much from the beginning of this thing. Toby, thanks so much for your kindness, encouragement, and insights, as well as the wonderful art that you did for this story!

Now, I'm going to take a little break from writing, catch up on my reading, maybe take up a little drawing, and then get back to the other Frozen stories I have in the works. Thanks again to everyone!