Chapter 1: I Could Kiss You

Prince Hans Westergaard and his wife, Princess Anna of Arendelle, were sailing off for their honeymoon. The newlyweds would be gone for three weeks at sea; though the bride's sister, Queen Elsa, was reluctant for obvious reasons (she and Anna lost their parents at sea), she allowed them to continue with their plans. It was just another reluctant acceptance in a long line of reluctant acceptances. When Hans and Anna had approached Elsa for her blessing of their marriage, Elsa had thought her sister to be a little young for marriage, at 18. But Elsa did not want to lose her already estranged baby sister in refusing to bless the engagement, so she permitted the couple's happiness. The royal wedding had been the biggest party Arendelle had seen in years, and had set off a flurry of speculation as to whether Queen Elsa herself might wed someday. The people were well within their rights; newly coronated and at age 21, Elsa would be expected to marry and soon produce an heir, thus securing Arendelle's future. To his credit, the Queen's new brother-in-law had chided the Council for being hasty and asked that Her Majesty be allowed to make her own decision.

That was all the cover Elsa had needed to throw herself into her work - work which involved a chance encounter with surprising consequences.

An ice harvester by the name of Kristoff Bjorgman had requested an audience with Elsa, coming before her and asking if he might be recompensed with a new sled. His old one had been lost after falling off a cliff in a chase with wolves up the North Mountain, which held snow year round. Amusement over the incident had moved Elsa to ask what the man did for a living. Discovering ice harvesting to be his answer had led to an astonishingly long and impassioned conversation about ice. Elsa had promised him a new sled straightaway, and over the weeks and months leading up to the wedding, had even taken it upon herself to visit Kristoff in the royal stablehouse - where the nomadic traveler shared the stall of his reindeer, Sven - to update him on its progress. More stimulating conversations had followed, and though painfully shy and somewhat distrustful by nature, something about Kristoff and his endearing enthusiasm for ice made Elsa open up. So much so, that she entrusted him with her greatest secret - the ability to conjure ice and snow with just her hands. Needless to say, Kristoff had been amazed.

Now, all alone the morning she bade farewell to her family down by the docks, Elsa retreated to the stablehouse and asked Kai to summon Kristoff when he returned from his morning ride. She was filled with nervous but giddy anticipation by the gift that awaited him in the vacant stall next to Sven's.

When Kristoff arrived, Elsa blindfolded him and guided him into the stables. The Queen took off the blindfolds with a flourish. "Ta-da! I owe you a sled!"

Kristoff's jaw dropped. "Are you serious?"

"Yes!" she beamed, inwardly laughing at herself for momentarily sounding like Anna. "It's the latest model."

"No, I can't accept this..."

"Oh, but you will. My orders. I've named you the official Arendelle Ice Master and Deliverer." She bit her lip. "Do you like it?"

"Like it? I LOVE it!" And he quite suddenly hugged her. "I could kiss you!"

Elsa stiffened in his arms in surprise and Kristoff must have felt it, for he drew back, although she remained in his embrace. "I mean I'd like to," he qualified bashfully. "Can I... can we... may we...? Wait, what?"

She must have done something, some dip of her head to acknowledge her permission. From the way Kristoff's eyes widened, Elsa knew it. In any case, she thought she felt herself nod. Nevertheless, she was thoroughly unprepared for Kristoff pulling her up against him, cradling her head close, and pushing his lips against hers, sliding her mouth along his.

It was her first kiss.

Elsa's eyes popped open in amazement. Then, in the very next instant, they drooped shut. She found herself bunching his parka up in her fists in tacit acceptance.

Then, all at once, she remembered herself and stepped out of the kiss, gasping. "This is madness! Why are we...? What are we...?" Suddenly, she surprised even herself when she flung an arm about Kristoff's neck and returned the kiss fiercely.

When they broke the kiss at last, Kristoff was gazing at Elsa as if he had never seen her before. Indeed, Elsa was amazed by her own behavior. Still a virgin at 21, she had nonetheless always been curious about men and sexual relations, reading up on... such matters.

Kristoff's icy blue eyes were loaded with questions. Indeed, it was just one question - and more than whether or not he could kiss her again. Elsa read the silent message loud and clear and nodded her head, her expression solemn.

"Yes." Her voice came out in a whisper and the couple came together as one, their faces hovering over each other. Elsa's one hand found itself playing with the nape of his neck.

And then the pair surrendered as their lips met once again, Elsa smiling into the kiss as Kristoff boldly cupped her buttocks, raised her leg to his waist. And then Kristoff swept the Queen off her feet and carried her away, to the privacy of a darkened stall...

It was many hours later when the soft crash of hay could still be heard. Moaning and groaning, Queen Elsa and her Ice Master rolled through the hay in each other's embrace, still kissing and kissing. Rolled onto her back, a slit in Elsa's ice dress allowed her to spread her legs, spreading herself open before him. A half-naked Kristoff wasted no time in taking her, thrusting in and out of Her Majesty furiously. Clutching her lover close, Elsa undulated against him, writhing in pleasure.

"Mmmm... Hmmmm... Huhhhh... Uhhhh..." Her walls clenched as she came. "OH!"

With a mighty grunt and a weak slam, Kristoff spilt all he had into her. Ravishing her mouth, he came up for air, leaving her panting and breathless beneath him. "I must leave now." Dismounting her, Kristoff tucked himself away and redressed. "You have made me feel so alive. I love you... Elsa." He departed, leaving Elsa still spread-eagled on her back in the stall. The Queen touched her flushed and very kissed mouth, the dripping petals of her sex in wonder.

What was that?

A man had kissed her... and kissed her... and kissed her... and she had kissed him back. A man had made sweet love to her. And she had enjoyed it. Still, what the hell did that all mean? Collecting herself, her legs sore and wobbly and shaking, Elsa floated in a lovesick, swooning daze back to the castle.