Princess Elsa flopped backwards onto her massive bed with a weary sigh. Soon to be Queen Elsa, she reminded herself. The castle's gates had just been thrown open for the first time in years and already, Anna had gone skipping through them to share in the infectious atmosphere with the townspeople of Arendale. Elsa could share none of her sister's enthusiasm, as much as she would have liked to. Not with her coming coronation looming over her head.
She was already dressed for the part in a flowing, figure hugging, aqua dress, complete with long, jet black sleeves. Her ghostly white hair had also been attended to; artfully arranged into a stylish bun atop her head, ready to compliment the crown that was soon destined to rest there. It had only taken one of her attendants almost two hours to put the style together. Elsa knew she looked the part. She only wished she felt it.
Lifting her hands, the Princess looked over the gloves covering them from the flat of her back with a growing sense of unease. It wasn't that she didn't feel ready to be a Queen; she'd been groomed since birth for the duty and the responsibility that came with the position. No, what truly worried her was how her unease and anxiety might manifest itself during the ceremony. The last thing she needed was to start her rule by impaling a dignitary with a rogue icicle in the middle of her coronation afterparty. The gloves helped, but they were only ever worn to help hide her powers, not as a means to control them. She desperately needed something to calm her nerves.
Tentatively, Elsa plucked at the fingertips of her right glove, loosening it just enough to pull the long garment off her hand and toss it aside. For a long moment, she stared at her pale, long fingered hand, before her second glove followed the first to the floor. Heaving a worried sigh, she turned her head to regard the stout, oak locker beside her expansive bed.
Grunting, she squirmed her way further into the centre of her bed and stretched out her right arm. Pulling open the locker's topmost drawer, the Princess reached inside. Her heart skipped a beat as her bare fingertips brushed against the pack of cigarettes she kept hidden there. She'd never allowed anyone to know that she smoked and, at times, it had been a painstaking secret to keep. Usually, it just meant opening up her bedroom windows and taking a thorough shower every time she indulged the habit. It's like I'm a stranger to secrets, Elsa couldn't help thinking somewhat bitterly as she plucked up the pack of cigarettes and the box of matches nestled next to it.
Sitting up on her bed, Elsa comfortably drew her legs up under her body and looked down at the packet of Marlboro Red cigarettes resting in her pain. Just one more habit she'd have to give up once she became Queen, she thought with a gentle frown. After all, it would be unbecoming for Arendale's Queen to smoke and, unlike her powers, she couldn't keep the fact that she smoked a secret forever. They were very difficult to come by for a start and tended to leave a rather distinct, lingering smell. Tonight, though, she knew that their scent would be easily masked by the clashing perfumes and delicious food in the Great Hall.
Opening the pack, she counted ten cigarettes remaining inside and idly wondered if she'd even be able to get another one once she was Queen. They would be impossible to order without someone finding out who they were for. The sensible side of her said no, but the side that felt the cravings for them was screaming yes in her ear. Beyond the pack she held, Elsa had three pouches of tobacco stashed around her room, but she'd never quite gotten the hang of rolling her own cigarettes. Mostly, she found their scent invaluable when it came to quashing her cravings.
Elsa slid a cigarette free of the pack and dropped the box carelessly to one side. Dragging her legs up under herself, the Princess could already feel her heartbeat quickening in anticipation, even before she set it between her lips. Holding it in place with the foremost fingers of her right hand, she plucked a match out of its pack with her left. Elsa's eyes focused on the cigarette as she struck the match and held the flickering flame gingerly to its tip. She watched the tobacco catch, the cigarette's tip flaring into an ember, wisps of smoke playing about her face. She extinguished the match with a practiced wave of her wrist and dropped it onto her bedside locker.
All the while, her cigarette never left her lips and Elsa could feel her adrenaline beginning to rise as heavy, bitter smoke flowed into her small mouth. She was practically salivating with longing, the first taste jolting through her body. Lifting it free of her lips, the Princess turned back to her bedside locker and pulled open the drawer again. Her petite breasts rose, straining against the fabric of her dress as she inhaled her first mouthful of smoke down into her lungs. Reaching inside, she rummaged around until she found a small ashtray of fired clay; another object that had been difficult to get without anyone knowing who it was for.
Dragging the object free, Elsa dropped it onto the duvet to one side before she allowed herself to exhale a gentle, thin streak of grey blue smoke. Her stunning, sapphire eyes trailed after the column, watching as it rolled in upon itself, slowly fading away into nothingness as she watched. She'd always loved watching the smoke leave her body. There was something just so relaxing about watching it take on a life of its own before dissipating.
Folding her left arm comfortably across her stomach, Elsa rested her elbow in the crook of her fist. She held the cigarette delicately between the tips of the two foremost fingers of her right hand, which was propped up alongside her slender jaw. Elsa had rarely seen someone smoke anything besides a pipe in her kingdom, but since the moment she'd first held a cigarette, the Princess had smoked with an almost instinctual, deeply feminine grace. Considering the fact that she'd been brought up to be graceful in everything she did from the moment she'd been born, Elsa didn't think this was too out of the ordinary.
Maybe, she thought with a wry smirk, I could get away with smoking a pipe. After all, none of Arendale's past Kings had shied away from smoking them. Maybe an elegant, ebony pipe to contrast with her hair. That way, at least, she'd be able to carry around tobacco pouches for them without anyone raising much of an eyebrow. Elsa brought the cigarette to her lips and its tip flared as she took a second , surprisingly deep drag from it. Smoke rolled from its tip, floating lazily towards the arched ceiling high overhead and more flooded into her mouth, rolling over her tongue. Her cheeks indented ever so slightly from the force of her drag. Lifting the cigarette clear, she let a small puff of smoke escape past her crimson lips before she drew the rest down into her lungs. Her back straightened as her shoulders rose and her chest with it, again straining against her dress.
Elsa couldn't stop her eyes from drifting shut as she felt the smoke hit her system, the tension in her muscles beginning to melt away like snow before sunlight. She filled her petite lungs to the brim with the substance and let it rest there for a long second. Tilting her head to one side, she exhaled a slow, long stream of swirling smoke into the air with a soft sigh. Her muscles loosened and relaxed as it left her again, except this time, it felt like it would stay that way. The chaotic thoughts that had been clanging around inside her mind only a moment before, threatening to overwhelm her, had subsided to a quiet murmer. Her eyes opened slowly and a smirk pulled at her lips as she watched the smoke slowly fold in upon itself before fading away into nothingness.
Quickly, she set the cigarette to her lips again and took another, long drag. Elsa felt her heartbeat slowing, her mind clearing, as the smoke filled her mouth. Once she'd taken as deep a drag as she could, she lifted it clear of her lips, allowed her customary puff of smoke to escape and flow past her face before inhaling the rest down into her lungs. That little quirk had developed naturally way back when she'd first started smoking as a way to stop the smoke from burning the back of her throat when she took a drag.
Her throat had long since become used to the smoke, though she'd kept the habit out of comfort. Even back then, she'd smoked with a comfortable, airy grace that had only become more refined as time had passed. Her smile broadened as she remembered spending hours playing with the smoke. She'd never really gotten the hang of blowing smoke rings, but she'd always enjoyed trying.
Closing her lips now, Elsa exhaled two lazy streams of smoke through her petite nostrils. She had always loved how they coiled in upon themselves before floating up past her face and this time was no exception. The Princess learned early on that exhaling with any force ruined the beauty of the act and began to prefer slow, measured exhales, if only to watch the smoke afterwards. She leaned down to flick a head of ash into the ash tray, before returning her hand to its position alongside her face.
She gently tapped the cigarette butt against her lips as she leaned forward, staring into the distance, another comfortable habit she'd developed along the way. Almost absently, she slipped it between her lips and drew on it, her blue eyes drawn to the cigarette's tip as its ember burnt further down along its length.
Lifting it clear, she inhaled the mouthful of smoke and exhaled in one fluid movement, angling the stream of smoke upwards and to the left, away from her face. She flicked another head of ash into the tray with a practiced air. Glancing at a nearby clock, she watched its pendulum swing from side to side with grim finality, ticking away the seconds until she'd be crowned Queen. With the smoke flooding through her system, the Coronation was looking a lot more managable. She slowly tapped the cigarette butt against her soft lips in time with the swinging pendulum. Opening them, she slipped the cigarette back between them and took another long drag from it. Time always passed easier with a cigarette in hand, she'd found. Its tip burned ember bright, flaring as it burnt further down along its length, smoke coiling lazily skywards. Her eyes closed again and Elsa squirmed slightly as she felt the heavy, bitter smoke filling her mouth.
Lifting it clear delicately between her two fingers, she angled her head downwards and to one side before exhaling a long, languid column of grey smoke into the air with a soft, feminine sigh. As it slowed to a trickle, she left the rest smoothly flow from both her lips and her nostrils. Without even opening her eyes, she flicked a head of ash into the tray. Lifting her left hand, she gingerly patted her head to make sure her hair was still artfully arranged in its bun. Her right hand, the cigarette held delicately between her two foremost fingers, remained by her face. She'd always hated buns, but then again, she doubted Arendale's crown would look as regal atop her preferred braid.
The mental image brought a smile to her face. Opening her eyes, Elsa looked down at the cigarette held between her fingertips, the smoke from its tip wafting up past her face in lazy circles. She watched the fiery ember at its heart burning its way down through the tobacco, leaving a trail of ash in its wake, for a long second. Lifting her head, she dropped her left hand to her side and squirmed gently on her bed, getting more comfortable, even as she sat up straighter. It was more a natural instinct than anything else; Elsa had spent so long sitting and standing up ramrod straight that it felt more natural at times than slouching.
She flicked ash into the tray and quickly lifted the cigarette to her lips for another, greedy drag. This time, her eyes fixed on its tip as the flame burned ever closer. Bitter, heavy smoke flowed into her mouth as she drew on it, and Elsa folded her left arm across her gut again. Lifting it free of her lips, her right elbow found its perch on her left hand again, just under her ribs. She closed her mouth and inhaled the smoke down into her lungs, the fabric of her dress tightening across her breasts and shoulders as they both rose. She exhaled a ragged plume of smoke into the air in front of her with a heavy sigh, letting the last wisps escape through her nose. Looking down at the cigarette between her long fingers, she arched an eyebrow thoughtfully. Only one drag left on it, she judged, before flicking excess ash into the tray in her lap.
Elsa took a deep breath and lifted her gaze towards a full length mirror set in one corner of her room. She couldn't help smiling at the sight of her holding a cigarette. Oh, how the court would be in uproar if they could only see her now. She sat up straighter as she regarded her own reflection, drawing her shoulders back and assuming the guarded, regal expression she'd honed over years of learning how to control her powers. Elsa looked calm, composed and highly reserved. Still staring at her reflection, she took one last, long drag from her cigarette. Unable to help herself, she arched her eyebrow at her reflection, just to see how it looked.
Lifting the cigarette free, she quickly stubbed it out in her ashtray, looking down at it to make sure she wasn't accidentally setting fire to her bed. She closed her mouth as she inhaled her last mouthful of smoke, then opened it again while she cocked her head to one side. As her chest and shoulders fell again, she exhaled a long, thin, focused stream of smoke into the air, her eyes drifting closed for a heartbeat as she savoured the sensation.
Smiling in the afterglow of her cigarette, Elsa reached down and plucked up her packet of cigarettes. Turning at the waist, she dropped it back into her bedside locker's drawer. The ashtray quickly followed it and the Princess closed it. The air was heavy with the smell of smoke, but she had a cabinet full of perfume to cover that up. Elsa stood up and made her way over to her mirror, her hips taking on their usual, seductive sway as she moved. That hadn't been something she'd learned to control; her curvy hips swayed naturally with each step she took. She'd put all of her time and effort into learning how to control her powers, rather than trying to be seductive. It had just developed naturally as she'd gotten older.
Elsa checked her reflection, making sure she looked the part she'd soon be stepping into. Gathering up her gloves, she slipped them into place and pulled them tight with a long sigh. They were crafted from the finest silk available to Arendale, but they still chafed given half the chance. Next, she plucked a deep, regal purple robe from its hook alongside the mirror and swung it around her lithe shoulders. Elsa secured it in place with a gilded broach, before shrugging her shoulders, letting it settle about her comfortably.
She plucked her deep, regal purple robe from a hook hanging alongside the mirror and swung it around her lithe shoulders. Turning on her heel, Elsa crossed to the cabinet standing alongside her bed and pulled open one of its doors, revealing shelf upon shelf of small, faceted perfume bottles.
Selecting one of the most expensive bottle of perfume she'd ever gotten her hands on, Elsa spritzed it across both sides of her long, graceful neck. Then she marched towards the bedrooms doors and flung them wide.