A/N: Post-Frozen. I adore how complex Elsa can be. And I wish to apologize in advance should this just be a hot mess...and not in a good way. But hey, I'm going to see where this goes and hopefully not embarrass myself or poor Elsa in the process. Because Disney's Frozen ain't mine (just this mess is).
Everyone bows and curtsies, and she wears a crown on her head (so she doesn't).
Then there are two very important people (actually, the most important people) - one who bows and one who curtsies. Who actually don't.
They did in the beginning (bow and curtsy).
But that was a long time ago.
And when the two most important people first met, words were spoken that come to mind now, "If it had been my sister, Elsa, it would be...Yeesh!"
It was.
This time.
Yeesh.
And it was a flagrant disregard of all sense of propriety for a woman of her age and station to have been caught behaving in such a manner.
Absolutely shocking.
At the age of one and thirty, Queen Elsa of Arendelle - The Virgin Snow Queen, sovereign ruler of Arendelle by right of blood and birth order, finds herself on the cusp of a salacious scandal.
It's in a dark corner of a balcony garden, the warm night air thick with the scent of jasmine and sounds of a waltz, that Elsa has fisted bare hands into soft auburn hair as she insistently presses her wet mouth to parted lips, a coaxing tongue tangling deliciously with hers and sending hot white sparks of heated arousal careening through her veins.
Oh…
Yes.
Yes.
Yes.
The world and her pride and her reasons for having never done this before fade away, all that's important is the heated flesh that is perfectly pressed to hers, and suddenly that isn't enough. She needs more. And she's far from embarrassed about the guttural moan that spills from the back of her throat as her back hits the stone wall behind her, especially given the fact it coincides with a similar sound from the owner of the gloved hands gripping her hips restlessly (evidentially the feeling is mutual).
How perfectly torrid…
The kiss is broken at the sound of a horrified gasp, Elsa's name twisted angrily in the same breath.
And THIS is far from how she expected things to come to light…
Elsa blinks bright blue eyes wide and in a heartbeat decides she wants this. All of it. Her body aches to breathe his breath, regardless if it is right or wrong.
She is allowed to have things (ten years of denying herself her wants and needs as she sits upon the throne of Arendelle has taught her well).
She is QUEEN after all.
She releases her warm breath to ghost across the shell of a rather pink ear, flush with embarrassment, "It is time for you to ponder all meanings of the phrase, 'silent as the grave'. Should you fail to do so, I shall be forced to decide that I have made an egregious error in judgement, and will make accommodations to correct it."
There is a huff of agreement twisted with a laugh, accompanied by the start of an eloquent apology before she pushes away and raises her chin.
Blue eyes lock as Elsa says calmly, "May I talk with you? Alone? Please?"
There is no wringing of hands or darting of anxious eyes this time (unlike the last time she spoke those words).
"NO. Whatever it is you have to say, you can say it to the both of us."
Elsa sighs, resisting the smirk that pulls at her lips (a result of too much time spent with him), "Fine."
"Don't tell me. It's true love."
Elsa chuckles, almost darkly, "Far from it." Her eyes shift apologetically, more for him than for her, because she's never actually admitted this before and hates that it happened like this. But before her are the two who are the most important, so she must, "But it is love."
"Is that some sort of riddle?"
"Yes."
Time marches on for everyone. But for royalty, it often has the effect of reducing the events of one's life to nothing more than a simple fairy tale (and they don't always have a happily ever after). And Elsa is no exception.
