A/N: Greetings, Jelsa shippers! So, to take a break in-between chapters for Golden Snitches, I decided to give in to my muse and write Jelisar smut! (Jacqueline/Elisar) I credit two people for this: Sakimichan for her beautiful genderbend artwork, and Wickedgreenphantom, for our discussion on who would dom/sub for Jelsa. Even genderbent, I still stand by my opinion.

Warning: Other than the descriptive, sexual content, this will contain D&S elements (weak ones: hair pulling, begging, some aggressive handling) and dirty language. Everything is 100% consentual. All characters mentioned are genderbent:

Elsa - Elisar

Anna - Arne

Kristoff - Kristiana

Sven - Svena

Olaf - Olave

Jack - Jacqueline

Most of the names chosen, the exception being Jacqueline, are of Norwegian origin. Happy reading!

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The candlelight flickered, close to being snuffed out by the remainder of the wax. Elisar squinted at the document he was reading, a lock of platinum falling over his eyes. He stifled a yawn and brushed it aside. He could hear the ticking of the clock at the other end of the study, a constant reminder that the day had long since passed. It was well after midnight and the King of Arendelle was still slaving over the new tax regulations that were soon to go into effect. He knew that he did himself few favors by staying up late in the night since he would have no choice but to wake up ridiculously early to restart the cycle. Then again, a good night's sleep was hard to come by these days.

The light flickered again and Elisar groaned, breaking his concentration as he dropped his head on the parchment. He had one of two options: either get up and grab another candle or call it a night.

As much as his body protested, he was soon on his feet and crossing the study, frost cape billowing behind him. With his brother's wedding coming in only a week, the crown prince Arne marrying the eccentric ice seller Kristiana he had met during the big freeze, the palace was already in a state of frenzy trying to get everything in order. This meant that in the coming days, there was little time to pass legislation so it only pushed King Elisar to finish the document that would allot a nice tax break to Arendelle's poorest working citizens. Some of the aristocracy in the court had made a huff about it but since Elisar's reign, Arendelle had entered a new age of prosperity. It was about time they gave back to the ones who helped get them there.

Opening a drawer in a rosewood cabinet, Elisar pulled out a candle. It was hard to believe how successful his reign has been, almost harder to believe that his own brother was getting married soon. Time flew by so quickly…

A window slammed open, startling him out of his thoughts. The study immediately slipped into darkness, the candlelight unable to combat against the sudden gust of wind that filled every corner of the room. Papers flew off the desk, tumbling helplessly to the carpeted floor. It was the kind of wind that brought with it the sting of winter, able to chill most to the bone. But for Elisar, who could never be bothered by the cold, it brought the comfort of a first frost, the smell of dew on pine, a sensation so familiar it could only mean—

"…are you still not done?"

He would have jumped out of his skin, had he not grown accustomed to Jacqueline's tendency to appear out of nowhere behind him. Sure enough, when he turned around, he found the winter sprite leaning on her staff, bathed in the moonlight streaming in through the windows. Although she bit her lower lip in a sad pout, the mischievous glint in her eyes gave Elisar pause.

"I told you this tax reform would take a few days," he started.

"You said that a week ago," Jacqueline retorted.

He was about to correct her but found there would be no truth to it. It had been a week, maybe even a bit longer, since he had scolded Jacqueline Frost for 'distracting' him from his duties and asked her to give him a few days. He had been so caught up in his duties, he had lost track of time.

But any sympathy he had was soon forgotten as he looked at the mess surrounding them. Papers were scattered everywhere and it would take him hours to get everything sorted.

"Jacqueline…" he began, a sharp edge to his voice.

"Your majesty," she smirked, spreading her arms out and bowing. Elisar was really not in the mood.

"You know how important this document is."

He tried to keep his voice even, the stress and his lack of sleep quickly catching up with him. Jacqueline tossed her long, silver hair over her shoulder and strode towards the book shelf, dragging her staff with her. Frost decorated the surface of the expensive, Persian rug and Elisar could feel his eye twitch as he resisted the urge to scream at her.

What was it his mother used to always say?

Conceal, don't feel.

Never had he wanted to ignore what he once believed to be sound advice, more than in that moment.

"You said to give you a few days. I gave you a week," Jacqueline said. She took a book off the shelf—God, not the one on The Standardization of Weights and Measures In Accordance to the Policies of Arendelle Trade and Commerce—flipped through it, scrunched her nose, and tossed it over her shoulder. Elisar quickly caught it and put it back on the shelf.

"You're always complaining about how tired you are, yet you won't ever take a break," she continued, attempting to reach for another book until Elisar flicked her hand away. He glared down at her, using his height to his full advantage but before he could even unleash the frustration he was feeling, she jabbed him in the chest. "So don't you dare tell me I'm being out-of-line for trying to have a little fun, Elisar!"

"Fun?!" he said, gesturing around the study. "Look at what you did to my study! Now, instead of finishing the damned thing, I'll have to spend all morning cleaning up this mess! What in the hell were you thinking?"

"I was thinking of how much I missed you and your grumpy ass," Jacqueline shot back, looking up at him defiantly. But even if she tried to make it look like she was angry, there was a flicker of hurt that made Elisar reconsider the vicious retort on the tip of his tongue.

Instead, he felt a light blush splash over his cheeks. "I—I'm sorry, Jackie. I suppose I've been…ignoring you."

He wasn't sure what made her ire crumble so quickly. Maybe it was how easily he had given in without a fight, his carelessness for his own freedom from duties often being a point of contention between them. Regardless, he saw her struggle to hide a smile as her eyes flickered away from his face.

"I—yeah, you have," she mumbled, running a hand through her wind-tousled hair. She dropped it at her side as they slipped into an awkward silence and she seemed unable to hold back, "Sometimes, I worry you'll forget about me…"

It wasn't said so casually. Since meeting her all those years ago, his only companion in isolation, he had known that their friendship was only made possible through his belief in her. So few could see her, none other than Svena, Olave, and himself in all of Arendelle, and he would never forgive himself if she had to go another century alone simply because nobody believed in her. So he knew how close to her heart she held this fear and how his negligence of their bond must make her feel at times.

"You know I could never forget you," he whispered. He gently tipped her chin up, forcing her to look in his eyes. "Even when I'm knees deep in treaties, I'm still thinking about you. I've missed you, too."

It may have been dark but there was no mistaking the blush coloring her pale cheeks. Both of them got like this, always skirting around the 3 words that lingered in the silence between them. They were no strangers to intimacy, already well versed in how to work each other up, a talent learned through years of experience. But this bond they shared remained undefined and given the polarity of their existences, an immortal spirit with a mortal King, it sometimes felt better it stay that way.

"How much have you missed me?" Jacqueline asked.

The invitation in her voice made his bashfulness fade, the familiarity of this dance chasing away Elisar's darker thoughts.

He cocked a brow. "How about I show you?"

Her staff clattered to the floor as she was pushed against the shelf, Elisar's lips claiming hers in his desire for dominance. She gave little resistance, her lips parting when his tongue sought entrance. As he slid his tongue against hers, he could feel her hands trail down his sides, fingers creeping dangerously close to his quickly growing erection. His need for her burning beneath his skin, he swiftly snapped open her trousers, yanking them down so she could step out of them, her hands doing the same for him. After she unclipped his cape, her hoodie and his high-collared shirt soon following the discarded pile of clothing building on the floor around them, Elisar wasted no time in reacquainting their lips, pressing into her so she could feel how much he wanted her.

"You've been working too hard lately," Jacqueline said, slightly breathless. Or, at least as breathless as an immortal spirit could get. "Nothing that winter's touch can't cure."

Elisar's hands groped at her petite breasts. His thumb brushed over one of her nipples, leaving a trail of frost as it grew harder beneath his touch. He gazed down into Jacqueline's eyes, flickering to her lower lip as she pulled it between her teeth to keep from crying out.

"I don't think I'm the only one in need of winter's touch," he whispered huskily.

Dipping down, he moved his lips across her breasts, pausing to lick away the frost decorating her skin. Encouraged by her sharp intake of breath, he pulled the hardened nipple between his lips, mouthing it gently. The nails digging into his shoulders let him know what kind of effect he was having on her, her tiny gasp bewitching him like a siren's call.

But Jacqueline Frost wasn't going to give in that easily.

"Is this what you've missed?" she asked, shifting her leg to rub against his hard erection. Elisar shuddered, a hand gripping the shelf behind her. His hips bucked forward against her leg and even as his eyes fluttered closed, drinking in the sensation of her relentless tease, he could practically hear the triumphant smirk in her voice. "Fucking me?"

It used to make him blush, how plainly she spoke about what it is they did. But eventually, he grew used to it and now, a single, choice word could cause a satisfying tremor to go straight down to his cock.

"Quite frankly, yes," he whispered back, bending down to plant kisses along her neck. "You don't know how often I've thought of you...what I want to do to you..."

Jacqueline lifted her knee, brushing it up against his sac. Elisar trembled as a pleasant trill seemed to rock down his spine, making his legs wobble as he struggled to keep standing. How she could work him up, make him go from irate to wanting, was almost a mystery to him.

"And what do you think of doing to me when I'm not around?" she whispered, hand reaching down to grasp his cock.

Elisar groaned at the slow, leisurely stroke. He almost forgot a question had been asked, his mind drifting to how badly he wanted to slip inside her and feel her squeeze around his dick.

It took him a few moments to collect his thoughts, thoroughly distracted by her thumb teasing the head of his erection.

"You," he gasped, resting his chin on top of her head as her hand pumped along his shaft. His fingers gripped hard at her shoulder, the need that charged from his core making him go slightly weak in the knees. "Bent over my desk. Legs spread."

She paused her hand. His hips bucked forward in protest, a low shudder escaping his lips. He could almost feel the mischievous smirk as her lips ghosted over his chest.

"Quite the imagination you have, your majesty," Jacqueline whispered.

She let go of him and he had to resist reaching out to pull her back into his arms. Strutting buck naked to his desk, and swaying her hips for good measure, Elisar watched as she bent over it, back still turned to him. She gripped the sides as she arched forward just enough so that when her legs spread, he could clearly see her glistening folds.

"Like this?"

He nearly stumbled as he walked forward, stopping once he was behind her. It took everything he had to not shove himself inside her, his cock aching for her warmth. He trailed his fingers up her inner thigh, summoning his abilities to splatter a pattern of frost over the snow-white skin. Jacqueline gasped when he slipped his fingers into her folds, juices dripping into his eager hand.

"Yes, just like this," Elisar whispered. He leaned forward and nipped playfully at her ear, his finger circling over her clitoris. "But a bit more vocal."

She arched as he rubbed her clit, whimpering when he teased her entrance. He could feel how badly she wanted it, her body pressing back into his hand. It was straight out of one of his fantasies, on those long nights when he was stuck in here reviewing decrees and he would let his mind wander for a few moments: her naked body thrown over his desk, hair wild and voice hoarse as he pounded into her, beseeching him for more…

"Beg for it," he demanded.

He pushed her roughly forward, her body falling onto the desk so she was no longer holding herself up over it. The dead candle, vial of ink, and a few other documents toppled over, though he no longer cared for his abandoned task. He was hot and aching, nearly groaning as his cock poked against her dripping sex. With a little positioning, he could bury inside of her, alleviate his ache for her. But he wanted to hear her say it first.

"Elisar," she whined, grinding back on his cock.

It was a battle of wills, a test to see who would give in first. As much as temptation beckoned him to abandon his demands, Elisar had one character trait that always made him come out on top: his unwavering patience. If he could waste hours listening to aristocracy complain over frivolities, he sure as hell could resist Jacqueline Frost until she gave in and begged.

"Tell me what you want, Jackie," he teased, tracing a finger down her spine. Frost appeared over her skin, causing her to shiver beneath him, though not from the chill. As cool as her body felt beneath his hands, there was a heat inside of her that he wanted to feel, wrapped around his cock and gripping him in an intimate embrace. "I'm no mind reader."

"Bastard," she groaned. But her futile attempts to press back onto him were only making them both grow more desperate. "You know what I want. So why don't you do it already!"

He chuckled and bent down to bite playfully at her shoulder. His hand traced affectionately over her arm, though there was an underlying firmness that let her know his resolve wasn't waning any time soon. "I'm a king, Jackie. I can do this all day. Now, why don't you be a good little sprite and tell me how badly you want it."

"I—" and he could just picture the blush that must have colored her cheeks, her face dropping down to the desk as he peppered her shoulder with kisses. For as vivacious as she could be, she always hated voicing her lack of restraint. "I want you to fuck me, Elisar."

"Oh, I already knew that," Elisar said, chuckling into her shoulder. "I asked 'how badly'."

"Just fuck me already!" she whimpered. "Please…"

That one word melted his resistance and he stood back up, gingerly gripping his hard cock. Feeling the shift, Jacqueline looked over her shoulder, faint blush coloring her cheeks. She spread her legs wider, propping up on her elbows as he poked at her entrance. Elisar could feel how her body trembled in anticipation, waiting to swallow him in her warm depths.

"As you wish."

He pushed into her, instantly meeting resistance. Her body tensed, Jacqueline releasing a low moan as he filled her as deep as she could take him. The tightness had his head spinning and his hands grasped her hips as he shuddered, struggling to hold back. He wanted to pull out and thrust back into her hard but he also wanted to savor this moment.

"You're always so tight," he groaned.

Any retort she had was cut off by her cry as he thrust back into her with less care than he had when he initially slid in. The hard slap of his hips hitting her ass seemed to echo in the office, each thrust met with an arch as Jacqueline pressed back into him. Their rhythm was both purposeful and rough, need replacing tenderness as the desk shook beneath their rocking bodies. Anything remaining on its surface fell to the floor but it only served to give more space for added leverage.

"Oh, Elisar," she moaned.

He could feel the built up tension of weeks slaving over decrees and wedding plans slip away for every sound spilling from Jacqueline's lips. Already, her body began to pulsate around his cock and he knew she was close, her voice a plea to make her reach that high and tumble over the edge. Slamming into her hard, he hit that sweet spot that had her crying out his name as she released, tremors shaking her lithe form. He rocked her through her orgasm, her walls squeezing around his cock nearly pushing him off the edge as well. But he still had more drive in him, still wanted to sink into her until he drowned, drunk and delirious in a way that only Jacqueline Frost could make him feel.

With her body bent before him, he picked up the pace, reaching forward and grasping at her silver-colored locks. Fingers tangling in her hair, he pulled hard, creating a delicious arc as her shoulders bent back towards him, a half-pained, half-pleasured cry escaping her lips. He knew she loved it when he got a little rough, always said, "Can't have Frost without a little bite." And right now, he was delivering that bite, letting go of his inhibitions as he fell under the wanton spell cast between her thighs.

"Harder!" she cried out, Elisar pounding into her with little restraint. "Fuck me harder!"

He was more than ready to oblige. Lost in his delirium, he rocked into her so hard that the desk scraped forward, undoubtedly marking up the Persian rug. His abdomen felt hot, the burning ache in his sac ready to explode if he didn't spill into the tight heat that surrounded his cock. With a final cry, he shoved hard into her, tugging viciously at her hair as he ejaculated inside of her.

After a few, final weak thrusts, his knees gave out and he collapsed on top of her, breathless and spent. For a few moments, they both lay there, a panting, soiled mess. Her body still pulsed around him.

Gasping softly, he planted a small kiss between her shoulder blades. Somehow, in the afterglow, her pale skin tasted sweeter than freshly fallen snow.

"I really needed that," he chuckled, resting his damp forehead on her back.

Jacqueline laughed, her voice partially muffled by the desk. "You need to take breaks more often."

Propping himself on his elbows, he leaned down and kissed the side of her cheek. He felt Jacqueline shift her body and lifted his hips, groaning as his softened cock pulled out of her. With Jacqueline now on her back underneath him, the moonlight bathed her in a pale glow, making her look otherworldly. His voice caught in his throat as he was left near breathless by her beauty and the knowledge that this—whatever it was—was not something he would trade for all the world's riches.

Her arms wrapped around his neck and she pulled him towards her, brushing their lips together tenderly. He carefully laid his body over hers, her cool skin a stark contrast to the warmth that seemed to burn beneath. He was reluctant to pull away when the strain in his legs became too uncomfortable but the evening was passing into the early hours of the morning and he needed some rest before he sorted the mess in the study.

"Come to bed with me," he said, adjusting his high-collared shirt.

Jacqueline, now fully clothed, picked up her staff. "You know I don't sleep, Elisar."

Coming up behind her, he wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close to his chest. Resting his chin on her mussed hair, he could feel the blush creep into his cheeks as he said, "But I find it easier to sleep when you're there with me."

Jacqueline was quiet for a moment and in the silence that fell between them, Elisar was sure she could hear his heart beating rapidly in his chest. But even if she could, she gave no indication of noticing his sudden nervousness.

Instead, she broke away from him. He could feel the sting of rejection nipping at the back of his thoughts, leaving the only kind of cold that could ever bother him. But then, he felt her hand shyly slip into his, pulling him towards the doors of the study.

"Alright," she said, keeping her eyes to the floor. Her long hair blanketed her face from him, though he'd like to think that her cheeks had also grown as hot as his. "For a little while. But it's the middle of winter so don't expect me to be there when you wake up."

Elisar's heart skipped a beat.

It was only a few, short hours that he reluctantly pulled himself out of bed, greeted by the start of a new day. A glance to his side told him that he was alone and he couldn't help but feel a little disappointed that Jacqueline had slipped away while he rested.

Once he was clothed, he made his way to the study, informing his servants he would take his breakfast in there. Arne would be disappointed but Elisar expected that Kristiana would have him occupied for most of the morning, anyway. He paused in front of the door with a heavy sigh: he really wasn't in the mood to see what condition his study had been left in, even if it had been worth it.

As he stepped inside, Elisar did a double-take. All the scattered sheets had been meticulously placed back on his desk, spilt ink cleaned up, and new candles replacing the old in the holders.

A servant must have done this, he thought.

Then again, his servants knew better than to try and organize the study, especially since Elisar had a tendency to organize the documents in a system he only seemed to understand.

However it got to this state, he decided it was of little importance. That was, until he noticed the hastily scrawled message on one of the windows.

Like a child's hand, the message was almost illegible but there was no mistaking who had written it into the condensation from the outside.

You're welcome. –J.F

Elisar traced his finger over it and smiled.