"But, Kristoff!"
"Absolutely not!"
"It's only for one night!"
"There is no way on earth I am getting dressed in some silly costume for a ball. You know I hate formal wear, why would you think I was OK with a costume?"
"It's not a ball, it's a masque. And we have one every year. And you have been gone at this time every year before, so I was hoping you would accompany me this time."
"Anna, I need to be preparing for the harvest, you know that. We should have already had about two weeks accomplished already, but this freaking mild weather…"
"FINE! Don't come. I wouldn't want you to spend so much as one extra night with me being silly."
"Anna, please…wait… I'm sorry…"
Anna stormed out of their apartment, slamming the door behind her.
Every year in mid-January, the castle hosted a masque. It was a tradition established by one of Anna's and Elsa's grandmothers eons ago. Neither of the girls could remember why it happened, but they both remembered it when they were very young, and after the great thaw, it seemed only appropriate to reinstate the affair.
All of the elite of the region would come, dressed in their most grotesque attire, masks, and headpieces, and would spend the night conversing with each other in a much less formal manner. Occasionally a certain baroness' perfume would give her away, or a Duke would reek of his cheap tobacco. A certain special telltale lisp here, a proclivity to use certain words there. It became a contest at the very first masque after the Great Thaw for Anna and Elsa to see how many of their revelers they could identify. The loser would end up spending the final dance with Judge Solberg. No matter how much chill was in the air, no matter how much cologne he wore, he always managed to work up a significant and pungent amount of sweat. Both sisters agreed this was a fit penalty for the loser, and made them work all the harder.
But this year had indeed been different. Cold had settled into Arendelle, as it always had. But it wasn't as deep and biting. Rainstorms had been more the norm than snow, and reports from the harvesting lakes had been that while there was indeed ice in the higher elevations, it was never freezing quite thick enough to guarantee the safety for teams of harvesters and their horses.
This bizarre turn of events had ground the gears of a peculiar internal clock that Kristoff didn't even realize he had in him. He had become irritable, pacing the castle, constantly fussing over his sleigh, staring out the windows, and itching to get to his annual event.
This all wore on Anna. She tried to console him, to no avail. She tried to distract him, but often found herself the recipient of unamused looks. She knew he wasn't mad at her, but just how mad could a person be at the sky? It seemed silly, and she tried desperately to get Kristoff to realize that soon enough the weather was certain to change and they would be able to get to work.
That also meant another few weeks without seeing her husband.
When the masque date drew near and it looked as if he wasn't going to have left yet, she thought this would be a wonderful time to get his mind off the problem at hand. She had concocted a seemingly exhaustive list of couples costumes for them, but at the very mention of the party, Kristoff snapped rather harshly.
Anna rapped gently on Elsa's door.
"Who is it?" came a voice quietly from the other side.
"It's me, Anna."
The sound of light footsteps clicking across the wooden floor came quick and Anna heard the click of Elsa turning the key in the lock. The door opened just a bit, and Elsa's head popped out. "Come in, come in! I don't want anyone to see!"
Anna scampered through the narrowly opened door. Elsa closed the door quickly behind her. "What do you think?"
Elsa stood in front of the door, displayed in all her glory, dressed in a gown that resembled a white peacock more than just a little. The eyes of the feathers adorning her skirt were crystals just the slightest shade of ice blue, and the bustle gave an understated but nevertheless obvious statement of the peacock's fan.
"Elsa, you're radiant!"
"It's not over the top?"
"For the Queen of Arendelle, perhaps, but for the Queen of Arendelle who also just happens to have ice and snow powers? Not at all!"
Elsa heaved a sigh of relief. "Thank goodness." She walked back past Anna toward her dressing mirror. "I was afraid this wasn't going to work."
"Elsa, I have a problem."
Elsa's smile dropped off her face. "What is it?"
"Ugh, well, you know that this event normally happens after Kristoff has left for the harvest, right?"
"Yes?"
"Well, he hasn't left yet this year, and I asked him to come because I really think it would be a lot of fun, but you know Kristoff. Getting dressed up and coming to a formal ball isn't fun to him, let alone getting dressed up in some fancy costume, and well, I asked him to come, but he groused and said he refused, and we ended up in a big fight, but you know he can be such a big grump sometimes. All I want is for him to be there with me and have some fun, but having fun just isn't his thing. Well, not this fun, and …"
"Anna!" Elsa held up her hand. "Listen, does any of this really come as a surprise to you?"
"Well… no, not really."
"Look, Kristoff has never been really comfortable at these affairs. And you've never had the chance to bring him to this one. I for one think he's handling the transition to royal life rather well, don't you?"
"Yeah, he is. I need to back off."
"We both know that he'll be coming to all the events this spring, right?"
"I know. It's just that this one is so fun."
"I say, give him his space, and try to be understanding."
Elsa smiled at Anna. Anna smiled back, and before they knew it, they were held in a tight embrace, laughing and discussing the terms once again of their contest. Anna insisted that Elsa would be on Solberg's arm this time.
The reports started coming in that the weather had finally turned. The ice was thickening, and it would soon be time for the harvesters to work doubly hard to guarantee the ice houses were full for the coming season. Much to Kristoff's relief, and Anna's chagrin, Kristoff decided that he would need to leave the morning after the masque. This also meant that he would spend the entire evening working on the sleigh, stowing supplies and packing his meager necessities so that they could spend the night together as they so much wanted. Anna wanted to skip the masque so that she could spend as much time with Kristoff as possible, but they both agreed that first, her presence was required, second, Kristoff could pack better without her as a distraction, and third, this would give her a great reason to avoid the dreaded contest with Elsa that never seemed to go in Anna's favor.
So, there she stood, in the ballroom, dressed this year not unlike a tropical songbird, one of those she often looked at while pouring through the ornithology books in the library. Her dress was layers of feathers in yellow, green and gold, her mask black, and adorned with more black feathers and crystals, and her hair was left to fall in her natural auburn tresses, studded with more crystals, courtesy of her sister. She shone like the sun, surrounded by more subtle, simple costumes of the attendees.
And despite the attention she drew, she was continuously preoccupied. Upstairs, in their bedroom, her husband was packing to leave at dawn for an indeterminate amount of time – not to be less than weeks. Her heart ached, and her mind kept racing toward the certain manner in which she planned to spend the whole of the evening, that is, until they both passed out from exhaustion.
She stood near her sister, chatting absentmindedly about the weather, or the food, or some new trade agreement when her attention was drawn to the back of the room.
Standing up against a pillar, was a man of a certain stature. Blond, unruly locks framing a mask of black, complete with a grotesquely long nose. His arms were crossed with his shoulders pulled firmly back, accentuating his large chest which was unusually exposed by the white peasant shirt which was poorly laced up the front. When he locked eyes with her, he pushed off the pillar, and started a slow, deliberate walk toward her. Dropping his arms to his sides, he revealed the cleft of his chest, perfectly framed by the muslin fabric of his shirt, and as the crowd cleared, the tight, black leather pants and calf-high boots came into her view.
He was every vision of a rogue, a Spaniard, a bard, a pirate. His saunter was deliberate, sensual, and engrossing to the point that when Elsa laid her hand on her sister's upper arm, Anna jumped at being suddenly drawn out of her reverie.
"Enjoy your last night together," Elsa whispered in Anna's ear. Anna averted her gaze from the smolder which approached her to glance at her sister a second. Elsa flashed her a knowing grin and turned away.
Anna turned back to the man approaching her. Kristoff had never been so bold before. He had never dominated the room this way. Her insides turned to jelly as she watched him stop just before her, bow, and silently extend his hand to her.
The whole room began to spin. Here he was, not only indulging her by attending the masque, but by playing the part of the sexiest man in the room. Here he was being silent and mysterious, and she could feel that electricity tingle inside her as she became aroused. She reached out to his hand, nearly hesitant, wondering what would happen next, and when he took her hand, he drew her in closely. He smelled of musk and leather and pine. Her senses reeled. He was the warmest person she had been near tonight. He was a wall of strength and mystery. He seemed dangerous, but deep down, she knew he was her Kristoff, and she was safe.
Without speaking or breaking eye contact, they swirled around the dance floor. She couldn't remember if they were following any actual dance steps. She couldn't tell you what music was being played. She couldn't have recalled that every eye was on them as they entered their own cone of existence.
They paused as everyone applauded, and he began to back away from her. He took her hand, and tugged oh, so gently on her. He didn't need to exert any more force on her, as she only too gladly followed. They slipped through the crowd to the closest doors. A quick glance offered the hope that they hadn't been followed.
Kristoff pulled her through the door, and shut it behind them. It was dark in the closet, but Anna needed no light to know what to expect. This had been a closet they had shared before.
Calloused hands framed her face as rough lips pressed against hers. She found herself backing up against the wall, and she could feel his breathing and heartrate accelerating. Her hands roamed his chest, down his stomach, to the leather which was straining against him. The combination of warm leather stretched against his member and his fervent kisses and his scent caused her to tremble.
"You OK?"
She responded by pulling him even harder against her, while she fumbled with the fastening of his pants. At first sign of freedom, she plunged her hands down to grab hold of him. He assisted her by pushing the leather down over his buttocks, the pants awkwardly pooling around his knees.
Tongues were entwined as Anna was being pressed against the wall. He began to reach down and gather her skirts. They began panting and grunting more like animals than husband and wife. He shifted his attention to the space of neck between shoulder and ear, and she let out an audible moan.
His hands thrust up under her skirts, finding not much more than a silken pair of underwear blocking his advances. She gasped as she heard the sound of him tearing through the underwear in an uncommonly animalistic manner for himself.
But it was the singular act of him lifting her up to the wall that caused her the greatest thrill. Every time Kristoff displayed his great strength, she was overwhelmed by her desire for him. She wrapped her legs around his waist, waiting for the inevitable feeling of his cock pressing against her, parting her, slowly entering her like a hot spear covered in silk. He was obviously more aroused than normal, hard as iron, hot as fire, and she mewled his name as she stretched to accommodate him.
He began thrusting, slowly at first, but before long, he was a machine, nothing but hard muscle, hungry lips and tongue and throbbing erection. And she lost all control, whimpering, scratching his back, pulling on his hair.
She was racked with one orgasm after another, each time trying to remember to bury her face in his neck as she screamed with pleasure. And it was the third time this happened, that she felt him swell and burst. His grunting became loud and desperate. And somewhere in them was the formation of her name.
He held her still against the wall. Their bodies trembling. Sweat pouring down his back, both of them suffering from hair being disheveled.
When their wits came back about them, they locked eyes and began kissing like it was the most important thing they had ever done.
"I'm not done with you tonight, stranger. Better rest up."
"Gimme a minute."
"Want to stay here?"
"Do you mind if we go upstairs? There's a few other things I want to do, but I need more space than this."
"Of course, my mystery admirer. You know, my husband is away, and if he finds out about this, I don't think he'd approve."
"He sent me to make certain you were taken care of. Do you feel taken care of?"
"Not yet."
"Well, then, we have work to do. I don't want to get poor reviews from a princess."
"You're off to a good start so far. Perhaps better than my husband…"
"HEY!"
"Shhhh…. No one is as good as he, but I can tell, he's given you some pointers."
"You're gonna kill me, you know that?"
"Nah. My big mountain man should be able to handle his feistypants."
"Speaking of, sorry about them."
"Don't worry… I have more."