Growing Together Chapter 1
A/N
Queen Elsa and Prince Anders are finally married, and are adjusting to life with each other. But "happily ever after" doesn't always come easily. Their journey takes them through one of her greatest fears, not to mention a threat to their entire kingdom (and their lives). This is a sequel to "Frozen Together" and "Thawing Together." Rated K-plus; the language is all K.
o
It was the fifth day of the Queen's honeymoon with her chosen Prince, and they were both enjoying it, and each other, immensely.
When they'd arrived on the North Mountain and Elsa had built her second ice palace, Anders had wondered what they could do to keep each other busy for an entire month. It had taken him less than a day to forget about that worry. Now that he realized that his bride's special ability had no limits, it was just a question of what they wanted to do, not whether they could do it.
She created some blades on the soles of their boots, and they began learning to ice-skate on the ground floor of the palace. She'd had a little bit of practice with Anna, and he'd tried it a few times when he was a boy, but neither of them could be called good at it. But after a few attempts, they were able to stay up longer than they stayed down, and then they were able to have some fun at it. Mostly, they just went around in circles, holding hands. "We need lessons from someone who really knows how to skate," Anders decided. "People will expect us to be good at it, seeing how you're the winter queen and all, and we don't want to let the people down."
"If you can learn to be half as good at skating as you are at dancing, I'm sure we won't disappoint anyone," she nodded.
They went for walks in the snow. He would break a path for her; sometimes she would follow him, and sometimes she would walk across the top of the snow, smiling at him all the way, just because she could do it. The view from near the top of the North Mountain was amazing. One day, he suggested climbing to the very peak, which would have been impossible without climbing gear and plenty of experience. Elsa just gestured and formed an icy spiral staircase that wound up the mountain to the top. It took them half an hour to climb it, but when they got there, they enjoyed a spectacular view from a place where no one had ever gone before. "The royal view," they named it.
They played games in the snow. Anders quickly learned that provoking the Queen of Arendelle into a snowball fight was a very bad move. Not only could she make perfect snowballs appear in her hands just by wanting them to be there; she could make all her shots hit, and make all his shots miss, just by pointing at them as they flew. They played tic-tac-toe in squares ten feet across – she made snow angels and he stomped out circles – and when they finished a game, she would wipe the snow flat with a gesture and create a new game board. She made iceworks for him (they weren't fireworks, but they looked similar), and she tried to never repeat a pattern.
The only problem, to Anders, was the ambient temperature on the mountain and inside the palace. To put it in simple terms, it was cold up there! The ice palace did a fine job of breaking the ever-present wind, but the chill air was still a problem. He was in no danger of freezing; he had plenty of warm clothes, and Elsa was always ready and willing to help him stay warm. But the only place she could do that was in the middle of a thick sandwich of blankets and quilts; he had to keep his heavy clothing on everywhere else. Mind you, he wasn't complaining. Keeping each other warm was definitely their favorite activity. As for Elsa, the cold never bothered her anyway. It just cramped their style, because he had to dress for Arctic conditions the moment he got out of bed.
"It's too bad we can't think of a way for you to ignore the cold, like I do," she said over breakfast. Their food wasn't hot, but Norwegians don't mind cold food, and the look in her eyes was more than warm enough for him.
"What if there was a way?" he wondered.
"Don't tell me you've thought of something!" she burst out. "I've been racking my brain, trying to think of some way for us to do everything together without worrying about hats and mittens and heavy coats! What's your plan?"
"It's not exactly a plan," he began, "just an idea. Do you remember that day when the Major from Stavanger came and demanded those deserters?"
She shivered. "I almost froze your hand off by accident, and then you almost scared me away forever when you told me you loved me. If Anna hadn't intervened, that would have been one of the worst days of my life, instead of one of the best."
He nodded. "It was one of my worst days, too, right up to the moment when you asked me to be your sister's brother-in-law. It's funny how that turned things around." He smiled at the memory. "But it's my hand that I was thinking of. It felt cold for a few minutes, and then –"
"It went numb forever," she gasped. "Why didn't you tell me?"
"Because that's not what happened," he replied easily. "I still have wonderful nerves in this hand. I can feel things when I touch them, I can feel moisture, I can feel heat, I can feel pain…" He caressed her cheek. "I can feel you. But I can't feel cold."
"So you could get frostbite in that hand, and you'd never know it?" she wondered.
"I got curious one day," he answered. "I borrowed a pitcher of ice water from the dining-room table and stuck my hand in it, just to see what would happen. I figured it would eventually turn white, or maybe red, from the cold, but it never did. I could feel the water when I swished my hand around, and it felt cold when I stuck my hand in deeper and my wrist got wet… but my right hand just isn't bothered by cold anymore. Kind of like you, I guess."
She considered that. "Okay, so when you buy gloves and mittens, you only need the left ones. I'm relieved that you weren't hurt. But what good is it?"
"I was thinking," he said slowly, "that if you could to that to my hand, maybe you could do it to all of me."
The look on her face strongly suggested that he'd said the wrong thing. The snow that was suddenly cascading down all around them proved it.
It took Elsa a moment to collect herself. She reached across the frosty table and held her new husband's hand, and the snowfall tapered off. But she still looked a lot more stressed than he liked. "Anders, you don't know what you're asking of me! The last time I froze someone, I killed her. As much as I love you, I don't know if I could ever thaw a frozen heart."
"But that was when your power was out of control, wasn't it?" he asked earnestly. "You keep telling me you've got it all under control now."
"This is hard to explain," she said with a shake of her head. "Cold isn't just cold. There are... how can I say this? There are 'flavors' of cold. There's the kind of cold I make when I'm happy, there's a different kind of cold I make when I'm afraid, there's another kind that happens when I'm angry, and there are others that I almost never use. They're all different, in ways that other people don't notice; I might be the only one who can tell the difference. It's not just cold, colder, and coldest. If I was going to do the same thing to the rest of you that I did to your hand, I'd have to come up with the exact same mix of anger and fear that I felt on that day, at that moment, and I don't want to make myself be angry or scared. If I got it wrong, I'd only freeze you solid. I will not risk that, not on anybody and especially not on you."
"It would mean a lot to me if I could go anywhere with you, and do anything with you, without having to bundle up," he said hopefully.
"It would mean even more to me if we could live our entire lives together," she said, in her best I-love-you tone. He took the hint and let the matter drop.