Anna left Elsa in the study for the stables. She doubted Elsa would get much work done—that fight had drained both of them, even if it had cleared up many things. They both needed time apart to recover, at least for a few hours. Anna knew she did, anyway. Epiphanies needed to be mulled over and what better way to do that than from the back of a horse? Not that Anna had experience with epiphanies; they didn't seem like the kind of thing that happened often.

After returning to her room to change, Anna strode across the stable courtyard in a new pair of buckskin breeches, dark green coat and riding boots. Grooms immediately bowed as she passed, doubtlessly remembering Elsa's instructions. The grooms in Corona had gotten so used to Anna that they rarely, if ever, bowed. Anna knew no amount of reassurances would relax the obsequiousness, so she would simply have to wait for the Arendelle grooms to get used to her presence as well.

"Good afternoon, your highness," O'Brien greeted, meeting her at the stable doors. "Shall I have a horse prepared for you?"

Anna liked O'Brien's general demeanor. He had a calm, steady presence that soothed horses, his gestures and speech was also unhurried and deliberate. He was similar to Elsa in that he was used to authority, a quality reflected in how the grooms behaved, but Anna did wonder how he would take to having a woman command him. Ladies in general had little interest in horseflesh beyond ensuring the ones pulling their carriage matched colors. He had answered her questions well enough yesterday, so she decided to give him the benefit of the doubt for now.

"Good morning," Anna returned. "And yes, please. Not too spirited," Anna added with a smile; she was still a bit sore, after all. "I'd like to eventually ride all the horses we have, so not Roma or Hector today."

O'Brien's eyebrows lifted, but he did not comment. "Of course, your highness."

After giving instruction to a waiting groom, O'Brien turned back to Anna. "Just a few minutes, your highness."

"Thank you," Anna said. She studied the head groom, who was tall and wiry, his face still smooth though he had to be middle-aged. His dark hair was closely cropped and he was attired in plain, almost drab, clothes. A very unassuming-looking man, Anna thought, but with an air of competence.

"O'Brien, you said you were from Ireland?"

"Yes, your highness."

"And you worked in England? For racing stables?"

"Yes, your highness."

A taciturn man as well. "You can address me as Anna, " she tried, though she knew he would decline.

O'Brien gave her a faintly bemused look. "You know I cannot, your highness," he said. "Her majesty would have my head."

She had to laugh. "Oh, Elsa would hardly kill you. She's quite nice, you know." But with a bit of a temper, Anna was forced to admit now. A cold one that Elsa normally had on a tight leash.

"Yes, your highness," he said. "Her majesty is very kind."

She really shouldn't pump the castle staff for information, but with all that had happened, as well as what she'd discovered in Elsa's study, Anna wanted to find out everything about what Elsa had been up to and in what other ways she had changed.

"I agree, Elsa is very kind," Anna said. "Have you worked here long, O'Brien?"

"Less than six months, your highness."

Good grief, all those "your highness's" had to be wearying. "O'Brien, you really can just address me by my given name. I would also accept 'princess' or 'Princess Anna.' I promise you, I will make sure Elsa does not order a silver platter for your head."

"Your highness," O'Brien began. The corner of his mouth was twitching ever so slightly. "If I may. Her majesty, the queen, is my mistress. She gave very clear instructions that I, and the staff under my purview, see to it that we comport ourselves in all properness in your presence. I cannot address you so casually."

Anna sighed. "Elsa must be a terrifying employer," she said, mustering up a defeated look. "I had no idea she was so harsh."

O'Brien leapt to Elsa's defense with admirable swiftness. "Not at all, your highness," he said. "The queen has been most generous with regards to the upkeep of the stables and horses."

"How interesting, I don't think Elsa has ever shown any interest in horses," Anna said, eyes wide and guileless.

O'Brien took one look at the princess consort's earnest face and was a lost man. "Her majesty indicated her… disinterest," he began. "She said that she was seeking to build a stable to rival Corona's. My background is training racehorses and as I'm sure you are aware, Corona is not known for racing."

"That's true," Anna agreed brightly. "To my everlasting regret. I do love racing. Have you ever been to a horse race, O'Brien?"

"I have," he said, drawing himself up a little straighter. "I've sent several horses to Newmarket."

"Oh, really?" Anna leaned forward, her eyes lit with genuine interest. "I've always wanted to attend the Newmarket races! I heard only the best horses race there. Back in Corona, we only had a few races and, oh, well, the races were exciting, but I don't think they could compare to something like Newmarket."

"I cannot speak for the races in Corona, princess, but the annual races at Newmarket truly are a spectacle," O'Brien continued, becoming more animated under Anna's rapt attention. No more "your highness," Anna thought, pleased. "Thousands across England and her neighbors come to watch the greatest thoroughbreds compete."

They spoke on the subject of Newmarket and the potential of the Arendelle stables at length for some time. When a groom returned with a saddled mount and O'Brien politely stepped back for Anna to gracefully exit the conversation, she merely took the reins and continued the conversation.

"Do you really think we could send a contender to Newmarket?" Anna asked.

"With the quality of stock we have, yes. The queen truly spared no expense in the breeding stock purchases." O'Brien hesitated. "Her majesty did say that you had final say in all selections. Are you displeased with any?"

"Oh, not at all!" Anna began to pull her riding gloves and chewed on her lip. "I think you could say I am very interested in Arendelle's stables," she began, wondering how to best put it. She had never pushed to be part of any kind of decision-making or responsibility. She would not treat the new stables as a small duty, nor a whim, and she knew if she asked Elsa, the queen would ensure that Anna was a part of it. But Anna knew she shouldn't run to Elsa for everything.

"I'd like to be included in the stable operations," Anna said, raising her chin to look O'Brien in the eye. She imagined how Elsa spoke to Holsen, how Elsa's gaze had never wavered from the older man's face, how her voice had been firm and authoritative, but not overbearing.

"Especially with regards to breeding, general care and training. I do have experience, though perhaps not comparable to yours," she said, trying not to let uncertainty seep into her voice. Did she truly know much about racing at all? She could teach tricks and persuade ill-behaved horses to yield to a rider, but surely racing had to be another matter altogether.

You are more than just someone's wife, Elsa had said. You are not cattle. How long ago that conversation felt, but it had been just yesterday when Elsa had said that. Anna had not thought she would be putting it to practice so soon.

"Do you have any objections to that, O'Brien? I promise that I will learn quickly."

O'Brien hid a smile. The princess consort looked so serious that she resembled her spouse somewhat, though the effect was softened by her warmer countenance—her highness simply looked friendlier than her majesty did, like a warm fire next to a snow storm. But fires still burned and O'Brien knew better than to mistake pretty face for benign—the princess consort was also his mistress, if just a step below the queen.

"Not at all, your highness," he said genially. "Her majesty did indicate that your interest in the stables was not a passing one. I would be more than happy to keep you apprised of any decisions."

Anna couldn't hide her surprise. "Really?" She flushed, while O'Brien didn't react beyond a polite nod. "Oh, I'm just—glad," she managed with a small laugh. "I'll just—well, thank you, O'Brien."

"The pleasure is mine, Princess Anna," the head groom allowed with a smile. "The queen spoke highly of your riding skill. I had expected to be working closely with you to bring prestige to the Arendelle stables."

Anna grinned. "Elsa talked about me?"

"Not very much, Princess Anna." The head groom recalled the way the queen's voice had softened at the mention of her then-betrothed when she had appointed him, and the way the queen had looked at the princess consort yesterday during the stables tour. He hadn't needed the queen to say anything to know.

"I'll not keep you any longer." O'Brien nodded and bowed. "Should you like an escort?"

"I won't be going far," Anna said as she mounted. "I'll be back for lunch." She waved at the guards by the same gate she and Elsa had used the previous day and kicked her horse into a trot.

Anna maintained a brisk pace even though she had no intention of going as far as the field. With each stride the tension from the fight melted away, her muscles stretching and burning from exertion. It was a pleasant burn, the kind that got the blood moving and, somehow, always made it easier for her to think. She let her mind empty while she focused on the trail, for once not paying much attention to her horse except for the soothing rhythm of hoofbeats.

Once she was some distance beyond the city walls, Anna dismounted and led her horse by the reins to a shaded edge of the fjord to gaze out. The city still dominated the view, but she was far enough that she could make out the topmost towers of the castle without craning her neck much. Hers and Elsa's royal standards tossed in the wind.

After securing her mount's reins to a branch, she unbuttoned her coat and sat on an exposed rock by a tree with a flask of water in hand. Anna stretched her legs out with a relaxed sigh as sweat dried on her skin.

Of course, her mind immediately turned to the topic of Elsa once she allowed it to roam. Anna closed her eyes and leaned back against the tree trunk. The rough surface dug into her back and into sore muscle, but it felt nice.

She didn't know how she felt about Elsa.

It wasn't that she didn't care for Elsa—she did care deeply for the queen. Thinking more on it, there was very little Anna wouldn't do for Elsa, though Elsa had never asked anything of her. It'd always felt like Elsa was looking after her, even as children—no, especially as children. Age differences were always pronounced for children and Elsa had worn her maturity and elder status as though she was already an adult. Even though Kristoff was the same age as Elsa, he had chafed under responsibility. Kristoff had not been irresponsible, but Anna had seen him as her older brother - fun-loving, yet uncomfortable as crown prince. She still saw him in the same light, though she wondered if travel and time away had changed him.

Meanwhile, Elsa had just always been perfect. Beautiful, graceful, smart; but that wasn't the whole of Elsa, Anna understood. As Elsa had shown her today, the queen was also troubled in her own way, and riddled with self-doubt and recrimination; they were flaws that made Elsa both more perfect and less so. She smiled to herself, eyes still closed—those flaws also made Elsa human. So very human. Elsa loved her for some reason, and that knowledge made her own heart quicken and her nerves tingle. Reciprocation, maybe? Anna gazed up at the tree canopy, sunlight streaming through the leaves.

In the time after the wedding, she had been caught up in the mutual attraction they shared. She had still been determined to think of Elsa as a friend simply because of familiarity and their shared past, falling back on it like an old habit even though they were married. She smiled wryly at herself—obviously she had been very confused. She had thought that she wanted both friendship and kisses and had gone after her desires without considering the repercussions. She had been toying with Elsa's feelings due to her own ignorance, and that thought brought a pang of guilt. She had not been fair to Elsa, as Elsa had not been fair with her; they'd both acted like fools.

But now she knew, and they could finally move forward. As she considered their future, she realized that she wanted to make Elsa happy, a thought that brought some dismay. She didn't know how she would achieve that since Elsa was hardly a child anymore and her tastes had doubtlessly changed. What made Elsa happy?

Anna grinned suddenly. Kisses. Elsa enjoyed kisses. But what did Elsa do before they were married? It was disconcerting how easy it was to believe that Elsa probably did nothing for fun anymore and worked instead. Well, she would need to find out; she already had a large pile of things she wanted to ask Elsa about, so she would get answers eventually.

Anna stood, stretching her limbs until she felt loose and limber again. Then she took a deep drink from her flask and gazed out at the flags atop the castle for a good while before climbing back on her horse. She had some time left before lunch, but she felt a pull—like instinct—to return home. Anna grinned to herself—she probably ought to think more on what she should say to Elsa, but everybody knew that wasn't the way she did things.

Anna was right; Elsa was not getting any work done at all.

In her study, Elsa was on her back on the settee again, feeling very much like a war survivor. Her study, she decided, somehow invited all sorts of change to her life and way of thinking. First she'd found out about Anna's lack of self-worth and pride, then her mother-in-law had unceremoniously deposited sordid family secrets on her conscience, and then she and Anna had fought like wolves and finally decided… she wasn't sure.

Decided they were married, was all Elsa could come up with. Truly married.

Not that they weren't married before, but there had been a cloud of expectation prior to their confrontation—a cloud of her own making, Elsa knew. She had been too ready to let Anna go, had all but shoved her out the door with the aired secrets and ugly parts of herself. But Anna had not left.

Elsa covered her eyes with a hand and exhaled. Anna had not left. Anna wanted them to remain together. Anna wanted this.

She ought to want to pinch herself, but she was tempted to sleep. She didn't think she had gotten as much sleep in the week prior to the wedding than in the mere days since. Maybe marriage turned people into sloths. Elsa couldn't recall if her parents had slept so much. Maybe it was an effect that would wear off? She had to smile at herself—the thoughts she was having. At least she wasn't brooding or weighing difficult decisions; her mind was remarkably light.

Anna wanted to be with her.

Before she knew it, Elsa felt herself smiling. Obviously her mind was still processing that bit of news, echoing it to imprint it firmly upon her psyche. Or maybe she was just savoring it, like a treat. Like chocolate. Did it even matter what kind it was? It was every variety of blissful treat she'd ever had, and all the kinds she'd never had, or had yet to sample. It was… just glorious. Indescribable.

She felt so happy. Queen Elsa of Arendelle, flat on her back on a settee in the privacy of her study, a hand draped over her eyes and grinning stupidly up at the ceiling. All because her wife had said in no uncertain terms that their marriage would be real in every sense of the word. Real.

To her horror, a laugh bubbled up. Oh god. She was giggling like a silly schoolgirl, too. When was the last time she had giggled? Whenever it was, it had likely been by Anna's hand. True laughter had not always come easily for her, but Anna had a way of coaxing it out of her. Elsa shifted her hand down to cover her mouth as though she could stifle the burgeoning joy.

She could never have expected this. Never in any lifetime, like how she had never expected to beat her father at chess. She had told Anna the value of the games was in the process and not the imminent loss, but she hadn't been telling the entire truth—she had enjoyed the games, but she had still wanted to win even if she never thought she could. Elsa wondered if this was what victory tasted like: hard-fought, but all the sweeter for it.

Yes, she was going to savor it. Bask in it, even, like a cat curled up in a spot of sunlight. Everything felt a little dreamlike, the dual gifts of being relieved of the burden of family legacy and Anna herself. Elsa had not a single hint of what she could have done to deserve the sudden windfall. Was windfall even the proper word for it? Perhaps all of the recent events were orchestrated, done by the grace of something greater than herself? She chuckled softly—it did feel like she'd been granted a miracle. No, miracles—plural. She wondered if it was too late to become religious; she had never adhered much to church teachings. Neither had her parents for that matter, and most especially her father. After hearing what he had suffered, Elsa could see why he would not have placed any of his trust in some great mysterious being. Her father had believed in himself and only himself to protect his family, his legacy, his kingdom.

God has nothing to do with what you leave behind, he'd once said. It is what you do with your own hands that will make your legacy.

Carefully, she took her gloves off and stretched her arms out to examine her hands. She thought he had meant her powers—her curse—when he had said that, for God could not have allowed one person to be capable of such danger. He had never referred to her powers as a curse, but she had known even as a child that she was different, that she had to be—careful. Very careful, because the potential for accidents and hurt was enormous. She had implicitly understood that everyone had to be held at arm's length and that included Anna. Even if Anna had made that difficult with her utter disregard for self-preservation, which Elsa could only respond to by practicing harder. She had been too selfish and lonely to push Anna away.

Anna wanted this. Wanted them. It was still hard to think of them together as one unit; the feeling it evoked was a mix of giddy disbelief and excitement. And if Alice's interpretation of what her parents had wanted was right, they had wanted her to have Anna. It meant that Elsa was… allowed. Allowed to be happy. Perhaps legacy did not mean leaving behind something grand and impressive for future generations to gaze upon, but a life she would not regret living. And she would never, ever regret Anna.

Elsa sat up. She grasped her gloves in one hand, the cloth wrinkling. For the first time, her mind was filled with such possibility. The weight of duty and Arendelle felt so much lighter at the prospect of Anna being there with her. She wasn't alone anymore.

She dropped the gloves on the seat cushion beside her and began to pull the pins out of her hair until her plait fell over her shoulder and blonde locks draped loosely over her face. Anna had said she liked her hair down as they had walked to the party, she remembered. Now she could do things for Anna simply for the joy of making her happy instead of feeling like she was offering a bribe. Thinking of the future didn't bring feelings of dread and foreboding, but a heady anticipation. She was actually looking forward to the next minute, hour, day, and for whatever lay in store in that time, the good and the bad.

Elsa smoothed her hair out of the way and hoped she looked presentable. She was going to need to answer Anna about what kind of marriage she wanted.

"I take it your talk went well?"

Elsa stopped short. She had been so focused on her path that she had missed her mother-in-law coming out of the library. Elsa turned with an apologetic smile. "What makes you say that, Aunt?"

Alice tilted her head. "I don't think I've ever seen you look quite so… elated before," she said.

Elsa nearly touched a hand to her face as though to confirm that her happiness was truly showing that clearly. She resisted. "Not even on my wedding day?" Elsa evaded.

"I daresay not," Alice returned. "My daughter did trip into your arms on the altar."

Elsa smiled at the memory. "She did."

"She was lucky that you were there to catch her," Alice said with a trace of humor.

Elsa's smile warmed. "I'm lucky as well, I think." The queen wondered how much she should tell her mother-in-law; it only felt fair since Alice had been the deliverer of one of the miracles. "The talk ultimately went well. Anna… dispelled the possibility of annulment."

"Of course she did," Alice said matter-of-factly. "I did not raise an idiot."

Elsa nearly laughed. God. Alice had hit the nail on the head with frightening precision. "No, but she did marry one."

"I knew that as well. It suits you both. Anna will put a stop to all that foolishness you enjoy coming up with," Alice said, entirely straight-faced except for that glint in her eyes. "And you'll be sensible and not let her do anything too foolhardy."

Eyebrows rose. "Such as?"

"Oh, no, you'll find that out for yourself," Alice said with a mysterious little smile. "It's part of the fun of being married."

"Hm," was all Elsa could come up with. She paused. "Do you know where I might find Uncle Frederick? I think I do need to apologize to him."

"Ah, well, I'm sure he's about somewhere," Alice said. "Licking his wounds most likely. I didn't let him get away with that clause in the marriage contract."

Well. Elsa cleared her throat. "Aunt, I do want to remind you that I share the blame," she started to say, even though she really didn't want to. Her mother-in-law could be a dragon. "And I did provoke Uncle last night."

"Oh, I meant how he kept it from me." Alice examined an invisible speck on her sleeve. "Frederick knows better by now, especially when it involves our children. Of course, he should never have allowed you to change the contract in the first place, but honestly. To not tell me." Alice tsked.

Elsa tried not to stare and found it difficult. "Perhaps I'll see you and Uncle later? Anna said she would be returning from her ride for a late luncheon," she tried. A very cautious peace offering.

"No need, dear. I'm sure you and Anna will want to be alone now that you've cleared up all that nonsense. Annulments and amendments! Wherever do you come up with these things." Alice awarded Elsa with a blithe smile and sailed away like a victorious battleship, leaving the younger woman floundering in her wake. The feeling was not dissimilar to the previous day's breakfast when there had been some kind of veiled marital dynamic that Elsa could not decipher. After shaking her head, she continued on her original path.

She opened the door to her room—not the King's chambers, but her old room she had used before her parents died. Most of her old things had been kept there instead of being moved with her. Upon deeper introspection, she supposed her life consisted of two parts: the girl who had a family and the woman who didn't. Though that wasn't quite true, she thought with a small smile. Anna was her family now. Still, she hesitated at the threshold as though there was an invisible barrier, then steeled herself and entered.

She had not been in this room in a long time, but everything was familiar. Elsa kneeled before the chest at the foot of her bed and opened it to examine its contents. Only a few old things, just as she expected; she rooted through until she found what she was looking for and pulled it free.

Nostalgia was bittersweet as she examined the worn, but very fine leather. Elsa wondered if Anna remembered it. The queen stood up and cast her eyes about the room as old memories seeped back. The four poster bed, the tucked away dolls, the dresser and its mirror. The tapestries were still on the walls, beautiful and bright even in the relative dim light—the window was uncovered, but the sun was past its apex. While the room was still cleaned regularly, likely on Gerda's orders, no one stayed in it. The room looked the same as the day she'd left it, as though frozen in time. It didn't even carry that faintly stale smell of disuse—the maids had probably aired it out recently.

She had not thought of her old room at all; she wasn't sure if that was because she hadn't wanted to or lack of necessity. It wasn't a pressing matter, but she thought that she should decide what to do about her belongings; three years of avoidance was quite enough. As Elsa turned, she heard the distinct fall of boot heels down the hall. She stilled—it had to be Anna, back sooner than expected. She recognized the way Anna walked, quick and with a bit of a flourish.

Anna appeared at the door, her hair tousled and her breathing heightened. Anna's green coat was unbuttoned, a pocket bulging where riding gloves had been stuffed into, and her cheeks pink. A hand came to rest on the door jamb as they gazed at each other, Elsa startled and Anna purposeful.

"You're back early," Elsa said. She felt oddly exposed being caught in her old room. Like she wasn't supposed to be there.

Anna didn't reply immediately. She scrutinized Elsa with some surprise. "Your hair is down."

She nearly touched a hand to brush her hair back self-consciously, but she made herself hold still. "Yes. I find that I like it down. What do you think?"

The younger woman examined Elsa further before answering. "I like it, too. You look very pretty like that." Her eyes fell on Elsa's hands. "What's that?"

Elsa wanted to hide it behind her back, feeling shy. Which she knew was ridiculous, it wasn't something shameful. "My old sketchbook. Do you—do you remember? I used to draw."

"Of course. You drew geometric shapes. Sometimes animals, too, but you liked buildings," Anna said. Her features became puzzled. "Wait, 'used to'? Did you stop?"

"I haven't in a long time," Elsa admitted. "My father—well, you know he didn't really approve." He had not exactly scolded her for it, but she had still hidden her sketches away when she thought he was nearby. It had felt like a perceived disapproval and she had not wanted to test the theory.

"Oh, I didn't know he disapproved," Anna said. "That's a shame. I liked your drawings."

That brought a quick flush of pleasure. Someone had complimented her work rather than her work ethic and it was all the better that it had come from Anna.

"Thank you," Elsa said. "I was—I was thinking of looking over some of my old ones. Perhaps try my hand at it again. I'm quite out of practice."

Anna leaned her shoulder against the door frame, smiling. "It'll come back. Just like riding."

"Yes, well, at least my pen won't try to bite me."

Anna's smile didn't dim in the least. "It's good for you. Riding, I mean. Will you come with me tomorrow?"

"Rather hard to say, Anna, when I don't know how I'll be feeling tomorrow," Elsa retorted. "And you're back early. I thought you'd be gone for a few more hours."

"I wanted to talk to you." Anna straightened and that was when Elsa's attention was again enraptured by Anna's legs. God. She had not been paying them any attention in her surprise—they were lovely as ever, their effect no less devastating than before. She forced her eyes back to Anna's face in self-defense.

"More talk?" Elsa tried to say lightly. It came out a little strained instead. "Was this morning not enough for you?"

"I thought some more," Anna continued as though Elsa hadn't said anything. "I said I wanted a real marriage."

"Yes?" Elsa prompted. "Did you change your mind?"

"No," Anna said at once. "It's just—" Anna paused. "Wait, what would you have done if I'd said I had?"

Elsa awarded her with a baleful look. "I would say negotiations have long concluded and then probably throttle you for being so fickle," she said, her voice flat enough that Anna half-believed her.

"Good." Anna went to stand before Elsa and smiled up at her. "You're not going to do anything else just because you think it's what I want without telling me, are you?"

"Is this an underhanded, yet cunning way for you to find out about any future birthday or Christmas gifts?" Elsa asked, an eyebrow arched.

Anna's eyes nearly rolled in their sockets, but she managed to keep them fixed on Elsa. "You know what I mean."

Because she could never resist it, Elsa lifted her hand and smoothed Anna's hair down. "I'll be sure to talk to you first," she promised. "You do deserve to know about such things."

"Good," Anna repeated. "You're not wearing gloves again."

Elsa smiled and finished with Anna's hair. Anna was presentable again. "I suppose you could say that I've done some thinking myself. About what kind of marriage I want."

"Oh? Tell me."

Elsa thought about the best way to say it and found herself rejecting everything that came to mind. Maybe words just weren't enough. She was good with them, had even been called eloquent before, but she wasn't a poet. With Anna gazing up at her, looking beautiful and faintly disheveled, she decided that sometimes language could be wholly inadequate.

The sketchbook fell to the rug with a soft thud. She reached for Anna, cupping her palm over Anna's jaw, thumb brushing over Anna's ear. Elsa started to lean down, but Anna was already rising up to meet her. As Elsa angled her lips into better position, her arm fitted around the small of Anna's back and pulled the other woman close. There was just an edge of heat in the first touch, but they'd had enough practice to not let it overtake them.

Anna breathed out softly when they parted, her fingers curled over the slope of Elsa's shoulders, palms pressed against the fabric of Elsa's jacket. Elsa had initiated the kiss for once and it felt so good. The kiss wasn't urgent, but still stirring. She could feel warmth stealing into her body and a coiling pressure in the pit of her stomach, especially with how intimately their pelvises were pressed together. She licked her lips experimentally, and knew by the rhythm of Elsa's breathing against her cheek that the feeling was mutual.

"Did that answer your question?" Elsa whispered. Their faces were close together, but her eyes were still closed. It was another self-defense mechanism, because she never knew what would happen when it came to them and kisses.

Anna's brain felt fuzzy. "I don't know," she said, her lids lowering. "I think you may have to repeat yourself. You know how slow I can be."

Elsa smiled as she leaned in again to reiterate her point. Anna responded eagerly, looping her arms around Elsa's neck. Anna was the bold one again, using the tip of her tongue to encourage Elsa to deepen the kiss. It was utterly delicious and erotic and made Elsa's head swim. The queen's raised hand fell away and slipped inside Anna's open coat to stroke her side, the linen soft against exploring fingertips. Anna shivered and pressed more insistently against Elsa—for what, she couldn't articulate, but she just wanted more. She made a small noise in her throat, a plea for something, and hoped Elsa would understand.

Elsa groaned in quiet desperation—those sounds Anna was making were as rousing as caresses, and made her belly clench as the kisses became more ardent. Her mind went completely blank as every sense focused on Anna. It was too much, and when they parted to breathe, Elsa had nothing but animal lust to guide her. She slid her other hand under Anna's coat, gripped her shirt and pulled it free of her breeches.

Anna gave a small gasp and loosened her arms. Elsa paused in alarm, worried that she'd gone too far, until she saw that Anna was taking her coat off to help her.

"My god," Elsa said in a daze once the coat dropped to the floor. Anna's shirt was still half-tucked, probably because those breeches were far too tight. "I'm not even devout," she said, with no idea why she felt the need to clarify.

"Neither am I," Anna answered, her voice husky. She was on Elsa in an instant, lips pressing a kiss under the queen's jaw.

"Yours, too," she urged, tugging at the business jacket Elsa still had on. "Only fair."

Only fair? Were they playing a game? Elsa was going to lose, then, because she had no desire to disobey. She yanked the offending article off, revealing a white blouse worn underneath her sleeveless blue dress. Anna was smiling, her eyes dark and sultry as she pushed Elsa until the backs of her knees hit the bed and she toppled over on her back with a sound of surprise.

Anna braced a knee down next to Elsa's thigh and tossed her other leg over the other side of the queen's lap. Anna was straddling her. Elsa swallowed—Anna was towering over her and straddling her in bed. Elsa could do nothing but look on as Anna leaned over her, a hand supported against the mattress, and kissed her before Elsa could ponder further.

She couldn't move away to temper the kisses because Anna was determined for each one to be deep and searching, and clearly had no qualms about exercising her positional advantage. Elsa whimpered helplessly, bringing her hands up to pull the rest of Anna's shirt out of her breeches, and then pressed her palms to Anna's flanks.

Anna made another gasping sound, her back arching. She buried her face into Elsa's neck, her breathing shallow and quick.

"Good?" Elsa whispered, sliding her hands up until her fingers traced the dip of spine.

Anna nodded wordlessly and started to kiss Elsa's throat, alternating with little licks and bites that melted every bone in the queen's body. She forced her attention more fully to Anna's skin to try to distract herself. God. Anna's skin. She was touching Anna's bare skin and the fact that it was really happening made her hands shake, which she tried in vain to quell. Anna was so smooth, and still a bit damp with sweat, but Elsa didn't care—the dampness somehow added to the experience, further confirmation that this was really happening. Not a fevered daydream.

Then she remembered that if she slid her hands up higher and past Anna's rib cage, she would encounter breasts. Anna's breasts. Heat flooded her and her hands flexed, nails scraping lightly against Anna's skin, and that made Anna quiver.

"Elsa," Anna panted. That was all she could say, really, all that was on her mind—just Elsa's name, over and over. She was too hot, her body sweltering, and going by the restless way Elsa was shifting about beneath her, she wasn't alone. Anna's knees were like jelly, barely able to hold her up as it was. Elsa's hands were still featherlight on her, warm and shockingly arousing for where they were touching. Anna would have never thought just her sides and back would have produced such a reaction in her.

When she lifted her head up to gaze down at Elsa, she wanted to sigh in deep admiration of the way Elsa looked: her pale locks and plait spread over the counterpane, her complexion flushed prettily, lips parted and a little swollen from kisses. Anna had been the one to do that to her and she felt a thrum of satisfaction at her handiwork.

There was a brief reprieve as they watched each other, trying to catch their breaths. Things had escalated quickly, and had gone a bit farther than intended, so it was a silent, mutual decision to stop. Elsa's hands slipped down to Anna's hips, thumbs tracing hipbone through the leather, then further down until her fingers curved over thigh.

"You look very good in these things," Elsa said absentmindedly. She was pleasantly surprised that she could form words. "Never wear them in front of company, though."

Anna laughed. "Because it would be improper? You've already done that—wearing men's clothes in front of society."

"Humor me," Elsa said, emphasizing her point by pinching Anna's thigh lightly. "Use a sidesaddle and riding habit in public if you must. Or a carriage."

"Mm." Elsa hadn't really provided an answer, but Anna had an inkling of why Elsa didn't want the breeches to be seen by anyone else if the queen could help it. She decided to let the matter rest for the time being.

"I really did do some thinking while I was out. About the things that…" She hadn't intended on asking Elsa about that so soon, but the mood felt affectionate and cozy enough that the time seemed right. "That make you happy."

"Things that make me happy?" Elsa answered with a quizzical look.

She nodded. "I thought maybe the things you liked to do might have changed. Four years and all."

"Ah." Elsa smiled. "Your mother actually said something about that. How we'll find out more about each other and that it's part of the… 'fun of being married.' Her words, not mine."

"No wonder she gave me that funny look. I passed by Mother on the way from the stables and she told me where you were," Anna explained. Not wanting to remain on her knees, nor sit back on Elsa and converse with her while in… that position, Anna eased herself on her side against the bed, head resting on Elsa's shoulder. Elsa wrapped an arm around her back obligingly.

"Speaking of your mother…" Elsa trailed off as she lifted her head. "The door is still open," she whispered, faintly scandalized.

"So?"

"So someone could come by and see," Elsa hissed, but she made no move to get up. Being stretched out on her back with Anna felt very comfortable. "You don't care if the servants see?"

"Not really," Anna said, nuzzling at Elsa's throat. She liked breathing in Elsa's scent, and pulled herself closer, her arm draped over Elsa's abdomen. "They know what married couples do, you know. Some of them are even married, too."

Elsa made a disbelieving noise, then glanced down at Anna. "Do you think we ought to talk about that?"

"Hm? About?"

"Consummating," Elsa said. "Given our mutual horrible attraction to each other."

Except Anna knew that Elsa loved her and it wasn't just a physical act to the queen. And if Anna was honest with herself, it wasn't just a physical act to her either.

"I want to," Anna murmured. She felt more than heard Elsa's swift inhale. "Not—not right now. But eventually, with you. What about you?"

Elsa closed her eyes and tried to ignore the sudden bout of nerves playing havoc on her. "I feel the same," she said, softly. "But not this very instant."

"You're not going to make an appointment for it, are you?" Anna asked, smiling even as she said it. "Should I expect a messenger reminding me to attend to my commitment?"

Elsa made a choked sound. "Of course not!" She blurted out, cheeks red. "I would certainly not do that!"

Anna was already rising up on her elbow to kiss Elsa silent. "Shh. You know I didn't really mean that."

"I wouldn't put it past you to," Elsa muttered with a distinctly petulant air, but her indignation was soothed by the kiss. She lifted her hand up to smooth Anna's fringe out of her eyes, her fingers trailing down to brush Anna's cheek. "Do you want me to speak candidly?"

"I will if you will."

"I don't know how to conduct… this," Elsa said with a trace of apology, like it was a flaw. "You're the first—the first everything for me, Anna. I've never socialized much and even if I could have courted you, I don't think...I don't think I'd have known how to." Elsa smiled ruefully. "I'm sorry."

Anna shook her head. "No, there's nothing to apologize for. Why not just… let it happen? When the, um, the mood is right?"

"The mood seems to always be right for us," Elsa replied, her smile turning wry. "Anna, we're in bed in my old room. In the middle of the day." She looked slightly horrified, and glanced about the room as though there might be spectators to witness their indiscretion.

"Well, we still have our clothes on," Anna pointed out, studiously ignoring the fact that her shirt was now untucked and a bit rumpled. If Elsa's hiked eyebrow was any indication, she was thinking the very same thing.

"Anna, I don't want to… botch things anymore. Your opinion matters a great deal to me."

"I don't think there's a right or wrong way to do this, Elsa," Anna tried, though she had no more experience than Elsa did and hadn't the faintest what was the best way to do anything. "Would consummating change so much?"

Elsa made a face. "You know, I'm starting to dislike that word."

"What, consummating? What would you prefer, then?" Anna asked, laughing. "Intimate relations? Having sex? Making love? Forni—"

"Thank you," Elsa interrupted pointedly with a glare. "As much as I appreciate your eagerness to help, I do not require a list."

"I like 'making love' myself." Anna reached down to toy with a blonde lock. "I don't know anymore than you do, Elsa. Nobody's told me anything about that. Why don't we just… say when we're ready?"

The queen studied her. "Are you sure?"

"Are you?"

Elsa breathed out. "I'm just—is it so easy?" She asked, dubious.

Anna smiled lazily down at her. "You just like to overcomplicate things, Elsa. Some things, I think anyway, are easy."

The queen laid her hand over her eyes and gave an ironic laugh. "All right. I will take your word for it, then. Conceding to your apparently superior wisdom."

"I'm glad you finally saw it my way," Anna said, affecting an airily knowledgeable tone. Exactly the same one she'd used on Elsa on their wedding night. "I told you I knew what was best for you."

Elsa eyed her through parted fingers. "Are you going to bully me relentlessly as well? Are we going to be copies of your parents?"

Anna shuddered in genuine horror. "God, I hope not. Not that I don't think they're happy, but they're my parents," she said, her voice a hush on the last word.

Elsa laughed, then quickly sobered. "Speaking of parents," she started. "I mentioned last night that your mother talked to me about mine. Do you want to know about them?"

"Oh. Well, if you want to tell me," Anna said, still cautious about Elsa's parents. But it had to be good that Elsa was wanting to talk about them.

"I do," Elsa said. "Not right now, but maybe tonight. It's a long story."

"All right. Wait, are we still going to be sleeping in separate rooms?" Anna couldn't quite keep the indignation out of her tone at the prospect, after all they'd gone through.

Elsa turned on her side to face Anna properly, resting her head on her bent arm. "Do you want to?" She sounded very neutral.

Anna scowled. "I think you know my feelings about that."

The queen awarded her with a lazy smile of her own. "I wouldn't mind a warm body next to mine every night," she teased. "It's the least friends can do, right?"

For some reason, that last statement had Anna's heart clenching. Was Elsa content with them being friends, so long as Anna stayed with her? Did Elsa even intend on telling her about how she felt? Didn't Elsa want those feelings to be returned?

"Anna?" Elsa sounded concerned.

"Sorry," she said reflexively. She had been quiet overly long. "I was just thinking."

"Did it hurt very much?" Elsa asked, with the same concerned tone.

Anna was still pondering Elsa's feelings, so that took a moment to sink in. When the gibe took, Anna gaped at her; Elsa grinned back in childish delight.

"Elsa!" Anna exclaimed, and launched herself at the queen. "That was mean! I swear, you enjoy teasing me!" She grappled with Elsa, fingers digging into Elsa's ribs. The queen yelped and laughed, swatting at her hands.

"Anna! Stop it, that's cheating!" A particularly ticklish spot was assaulted and nearly made Elsa snort in a most undignified manner.

"You deserve it! God, the things you say. 'Did it hurt very much?'" Anna mimicked in the snobbiest voice she could manage "I am the princess consort, I deserve the utmost respect! You would think the queen herself would be above that," she complained.

Elsa choked out another laugh as she rolled on her back, Anna on top of her again. "You make it too easy," she giggled. God, she was giggling and Anna was the cause of it again. "How can I resist when the opportunity presents itself so readily—"

Anna did snort at that, but stopped in time and sat back on Elsa's hips. Elsa looked wonderfully tousled, her hair askew and expression warm.

"If we're sleeping together, we're going to use my room," Anna informed her haughtily. "Your room is far too cold. And my room is much nicer, too. And it's even called the Queen's chambers."

"You don't need to convince me, Anna. And if you're wondering why my room is bare, it's because most of my things are still in here as you can see."

Anna looked about in surprise. "Oh. I didn't notice," she said sheepishly. "Everything does look the same. Well, we can move it to my room. Or you can just use my things."

And just like that, the matter was decided. Elsa sat up and kissed Anna lightly. She was smiling again, but being near Anna made it impossible not to.

"All right," Elsa agreed. "I'll have my things moved to your room and we'll talk more tonight. For now, though, are you hungry? We can have a late lunch."

Anna shook her head. "No, I'm not hungry. What do you want to do today?"

Elsa caught sight of her sketchbook on the floor and knew what she wanted to do.

"I want to show you something."

A/N: Thanks to somonastic for beta-ing this chapter!