Author's Note: Based off of a prompt on wherein coronation Elsa meets a different version of herself on account of some heavy duty trolling.

Content Warning: Contains sexual scenes between three women. There is also swearing. You have been warned.


A Crack in Time, or Trolls Being Trolls

Elsa didn't even see the rock before she tripped over it.

She hit the ground hard, the impact sending painful shocks through her ribs and palms, the skin of her left hand scraping against the harsh surface. She groaned and looked down at her foot, which the rock sat innocently beside, and slowly sat up, rotating her ankle. It wasn't broken, or even sprained; the pain was all in the sudden shock.

She buried her head in her hands and shook. Just like the rest of her, including her psyche. Years upon years of hiding away in the cell she called a room, just to make sure that her baby sister, with her bright laughter and her breath of summer even in the darkness of winter, stayed safe. Months of learning to wake up earlier and earlier, so she could be safely ensconced in her lessons with a tutor beside her by the time Anna knocked on her door. A whole hot, cloying, achingly warm summer spent in her parents' room while hers was 'modified': thicker walls put in with more absorbent materials, while her baby sister took to begging at their parent's door, wondering why it is that they got to spend so much time with Elsa but she was always left alone.

And for what?

It was all ruined, all of it, because for all Anna pushed at her, she pulled as well, pulled at her heartstrings, demanding entrance, needing love, the only words on her lips "Why not?" Why not indeed. She looked up from her trembling hands and saw the trail of frost she'd left behind, like a backwards retelling of Hansel and Gretel, except it was the witch leaving the breadcrumbs behind. That was why not. Because when Anna spread her hands, love and warmth and light fell out. When Elsa did, there was only pain left. She shuddered, the tears easing down her cheeks as she cried quietly. She'd long ago learned to do almost everything quietly.

"It's the queen!"

Elsa jerked and looked around wildly. Everywhere, mossy rocks were sprouting limbs and mouths and ears and faces. Her eyes widened, and she stumbled to her feet, careful with her ankle, drawing her cloak around her, as if the heavy garment were any real protection.

Suddenly she gasped. Oh. Oh. She was here. Back where it all began, back where the crack had first taken hold, back when she had someone to hold onto, and not just her royal garb. The trolls, for that's what she remembered them to be, drew around her in a circle, a writhing mass of stone that was covered with moss and glittering with crystals. One stepped forward; atop his head was a mane of grass, and he, too, bore a cloak, and had the heavy gait of someone who knew how much it weighed. He bowed, and she reflexively did the same.

"Your Majesty, we were expecting you."

"Oh, you must be-wait, you…you were expecting me?" She blinked at him in confusion. She wasn't sure if she could handle any more surprises tonight. He nodded solemnly.

"You are here to repair what was broken in time."

"Broken…in time?"

"Do you remember the last time you were here?"

Elsa looked down at her hands. One was properly covered, but the other was a glaring reminder of her failure, of her naked shame. She nodded, wrapping her arms around herself. It was strange to feel so alone when there were so many eyes on her. She felt something nudge her foot, and glanced down to see a troll gesturing at its much fatter partner, who rolled himself up into a perfectly shaped seat. The troll patted it expectantly, and she gave it a watery, apologetic smile before sitting down gently.

Grandpabbie patted her knee. "I know, Elsa; you have felt broken ever since."

"Yes," she whispered. "I…I would give anything to go back to that time, to before."

"You cannot: that way has been closed off to you. Because of my own error."

"Your…what?"

"When I sealed off your sister's memories," Grandpabbie said, drawing his pebbly hands together in what seemed like an apologetic gesture, "I did so by giving her visions and making her believe them to be true. In so doing, I disturbed the magical fabric within our world: I had hoped that, with time, it would return to its natural state, but found this not to be the case. As another creature of magic, you, too, have felt the strain upon you, yes?"

"Yes!" she said, much louder than she had wanted to. The words fairly echoed against the heavy boulders lining the small clearing. She cringed and continued, more softly this time. "Yes, I…I'm so very thankful for you for saving Anna's life, but…are you telling me that somehow…what you did made everything worse?"

Grandpabbie sighed. "I'm sorry, Elsa, but that is the truth. And I believe the only way to heal the wound is to cause a similar one, but with future memories. Now-"

"I'll do it." She stood, her jaw set. "I don't care what happens, anything is better than this."

He peered at her, his face shadowed by his heavy brow. "Are you certain? This cannot be undone, and I cannot be certain even what visions I will give you. Perhaps they may even drive you mad."

She laughed without a hint of mirth. "I'm already mad. Mad at myself, at my situation, at my failure. What could insanity offer except respite?"

He gave a heaving sigh, and it sounded like the rumble of thunder before a cleansing rain. "That is not the right mindset for this, but at the same time…" He shook his head. "I fear what will come if you do not do this."

"Please." She knelt and held his hands, his stony skin rough against her bruised palm. "Please. I need to set things right, however I can." He withdrew his hands, and she felt like crying again; was this what it felt like, not to leave, but be left?

He drew one hand towards the sky, and for a moment Elsa imagined him as a conduit, a connection between the sky and the land, a translation between air and earth. Then a light swirled in his palm, and she could look nowhere else but at the writhing power and all of its intensity.

"I can only hope that this will help," he said, and touched her forehead.


"So anyways, that's when I said 'uh uh, you got a sandwich that is made of cucumber, and somehow it's good? Bull: I'm calling your bluff' and so she said she hadn't brought any, and just kept insisting that this thing with vegetables in it deserved to be called a sandwich."

"But I'll bet you showed her," Elsa said with a smirk. Anna preened and raised her nose in the air. "Of course! So I dragged her down to the kitchens, and taught her how to make a real sandwich."

"With cookies and ice cream?"

"Why do you keep asking questions you know the answer to?"

"So you can tell me the things I want to hear," Elsa said, and tapped Anna's nose. The pair giggled at each other, Elsa gripping the ice railing with ungloved hands and Anna sitting on the part that was covered by a fur rug. Over the course of a few months they'd spruced the place up a bit: much as Anna had been stunned by the variety in décor her sister was capable of producing, she couldn't make things that weren't cold, so if Anna wanted to be dressed to the nines (as she was, thank you) instead of wrapped in heavy winter gear, she needed a couple of warm surfaces to start off with. Hence, the rugs.

And, of course, the bed. It'd been a real headache getting that out of the castle in the dead of night. Much as Elsa was beginning to enjoy Kristoff's company, she was more than a little perturbed when his first suggestion had landed her with a list of smugglers. Even if they had proven immensely useful. Them and the bed.

Anna smiled and leaned to the side to kiss her sister. She hovered over Elsa's lips and paused.

"Make a wish."

"I wish you would kiss me already." She thumped Elsa's arm.

"Not something like that, silly; something that's unlikely to happen. Otherwise you could just wish you wouldn't fall when walking: it's not worth it if it's going to happen."

"Maybe not a worthwhile wish for me," Elsa quipped, and then stole a quick kiss, ignoring Anna's irritable grumblings. She pressed her forehead against her sister's, closed her eyes and thought. Anna tugged on her braid. "C'mon, you're running out of time."

Elsa laughed. "Okay, okay, I wish for-"

There was a sudden "pop", "thud", and "ouch!" They stared at each other, and then turned towards the noise in unison.

A woman sat on the ice floor in front of them. Her shoes were flat and sensible things, her green skirts entangled around long legs. Her bodice bore the intricate rosemailing pattern in the shape of the royal crocus, her arms spread wide to support her, one hand gloved. A glittering tiara was fixed atop her braided coif of platinum hair, and her wide blue eyes regarded them in total confusion.

It was Elsa.

For a long moment, none of them moved. Elsa stared at Anna and Elsa, who stared right back, their bodies completely frozen.

Anna whistled and turned to her sister. "Nice." Elsa's jaw flapped soundlessly.

"Wh-what…what on earth? Why would I be sent here? Why would he show me this?" Elsa gasped, still staring at her twin. But what a twin! Where Elsa was demure, collected, and above all, proper, this vision of stunning beauty was anything but. Glittering blue heels (heels! Oh she'd always wanted to try those) supported her slender legs, which she could see even up to the knee, due to how scandalously high the slit in her dress was. Her dress was gleaming and sparkling, as though thousands of lights shone upon it, and it took her a moment to realize that it was crafted entirely from ice. An…an ice dress? Her eyes quickly returned to the shoes. And ice heels! Her gaze shot up, up to the woman's collarbone, where she was distracted by how low the front dipped – hadn't this woman any pride? – and she took in the braid draped over her bosom, the end of it secured by a green ribbon, one that for some reason seemed incredibly familiar. She stared at it, and then her eyes were drawn to another location: her hands.

Her hands were naked.

"I…that's not what I wished for!"

"Well damn, I guess I got my wish then."

The woman suddenly stiffened, her eyes staring into the distance. "No…" she breathed, and looked down upon Elsa again. "It can't be."

"It can't be what? What do you-oh no way." This time Anna was staring at her. Elsa's shoulders hunched under the intense scrutiny of her double, and the…odd way Anna was looking at her. It was making her feel a little funny. And what on earth was that 'wish' comment all about? Suddenly it clicked.

"Oh!" she said, and stood up. "I just…I was so startled, because it all feels so real, you see? I can understand why Anna thought it was, all those years ago. Wow, I can even feel the floor beneath my feet! I've never had a hallucination this intense before."

"Intense," the other her said, and coughed nervously. "Yes, I recall that's how it was." Her voice sounded strangled, but that may have just been because Elsa wasn't hearing it in her own head when she spoke.

Anna was still staring at her like Christmas had come early. She drew her naked hand behind her back, trying to be subtle about it, but it didn't matter, because Anna was not looking at her hand. Or, come to think of it, her face. She blanched as she realized where Anna's gaze had settled.

"Excuse me," she said, trying to stress how incredibly out of line Anna was, how much it made her uncomfortable, going by the way her breath noticeably picked up and heartbeat throbbed. Anna slid off the railing and advanced. Elsa stepped back hurriedly, until her knees thumped against the side of the bed she hadn't noticed, and she plopped down, staring up at her sister, or rather, her sister's ghost.

"Hallucination, huh?" Anna said, still leering at her, but she was addressing the other woman.

"Ah, yes…let's just, let's go with that." The other Elsa – for if she was telling herself the truth, for all their differences they were clearly the same woman – slowly came over to the bed herself, and Elsa was shocked at the way her hips fairly rolled when she walked. No, strutted. Her jaw was probably on the floor.

Anna's fingertip lifted her chin, and her teeth clicked together. She looked up into teal eyes that were burning with some inner fire she'd never seen in them before. A smooth, warm hand curled around her neck, thumb stroking her cheek, then over her parted lips.

"What…what are you doing?" she whispered. She hadn't the strength to truly speak.

"I dunno," this other Anna drawled - because her own Anna had never done anything like this, even if, even if…

"I figured, since you were the one having the dream, you're controlling me."

"Hallucination," Elsa corrected instantly. Other Anna waved her hand in irritation.

"Semantics. Now…" She leaned forward, and Elsa leaned back in response. She realized the error when her back pressed against soft sheets and Anna began to climb over her. That…probably should not have made her hands twist in the sheets like that.

"Eager, hmmm?" She drew in a quick breath, intending to deny the spurious accusation, and Anna dipped her head and brought their lips together. Elsa melted into the mattress at the first touch, eyes slipping closed, and she smoothed her hands up Anna's arms without even thinking. Oh. So this is what she had been missing, locked away for years. Not just touch, not just a kiss, but the way that Anna tasted. She had imagined the first, ripe strawberries of summer or warm milk chocolate melting on her tongue.

Anna tasted like heat, hissing through their connected lips, through her skin, lighting up every once dormant nerve and sending crackles of electricity down their length. She tasted like power, power in the way she pressed Elsa's head down, down into the sheets with the force of her kiss, power in the way Elsa's stomach muscles flexed as Anna's hand stroked them through her dress. She tasted wet.

Just as wet as Elsa.

She broke off their kiss with a jerk of her head, twisting to the side, slapping a hand over her mouth to cover her cry. She shook her head, feeling the tears welling in her eyes. She wasn't sure if her mouth felt bruised or if it ached because she was mourning the loss of Anna's lips already.

"You don't have to be afraid." She looked up at her double, who was reclining on the bed, her bare legs on full display. It was incredibly distracting. "She doesn't bite." Elsa heard Anna chuckle in her ear. "Well, I suppose that's not true, but…" She leaned in, and Elsa's eyes widened, her hand growing slack. "You'd like it," she breathed against Elsa's cheek. At least one of them still could.

"I…I…" she tried, but stopped when she felt Anna's lips on her neck. Oh Lord she hadn't imagined them there. Her dress suddenly felt painfully tight, and the fabric rubbed uncomfortably against her chest with every shuddering breath.

"Although usually, both of us prefer a more engaged partner."

"En-engaged, but…Anna's-my Anna's, engaged, and, we're, we're not-" She arched her back and whined when Anna's hand slid up to her chest, cupping her breast but not doing anything beyond that, even though she wanted.

"Does it matter? This is a dre-hallucination, after all. Do you want to touch her?" Elsa felt like she was drowning in the woman's eyes, so deep and blue. She was nodding before she could stop herself.

"Do you want to touch me?" A soft hand was stroking her hair, and she felt a light tug before the other Elsa tossed the crown away carelessly. The sound of it hitting the floor broke her resolve.

"Yes, oh God, yes." The other woman smiled, slowly, smugly, as though she had known Elsa would give in, and it was that that truly set her aflame.

"Please, please, I need-" She gestured wordlessly at herself, hoping they would understand, and gasped at the sensation of teeth on her gloved hand. Anna tugged at each finger, and Elsa felt an answering clench below, before she drew the glove off fully and – oh then – began to kiss and lick Elsa's fingers without the slightest hint of fear in her eyes. Just heat.

"This is the best dream ever," she blurted out. She thrust her hips into Anna's hands when she cupped her sex, gripping the sheets as she keened. Oh God if this was what she got for speaking she was going to be very vocal.

"The best wet dream," Anna murmured, and pressed the hand harder into her core. She nuzzled Elsa's throat, as if finding the right place, and bit hard. Elsa cried out and wrapped her arms around the girl, fingernails digging into her back.

She heard a sharp, hissing breath, and looked over to see other Elsa wielding a small ice blade. She pressed it against Elsa's dress like a promise, and Elsa whined.

"Oh God, please, yes, please."

Other Elsa nodded, her pupils wide, and began to cut.


Elsa came back to herself with a start.

She gasped in shock at the sudden change, her back no longer pressed up against satiny sheets, but rather gravel and hard packed dirt. The rocks were gone. The light above her dimmed, and she looked up.

Anna was standing over her, in her coronation dress, still clutching a glove in her tight, trembling fist, gaping down at Elsa. Her mouth hung open as she stared, her gaze darting over Elsa's body as though seeing it for the first time. Elsa cowered against the ground, still panting. The starlight felt like a sin against her.

A horse's impatient whinny split the air, and Anna fairly jumped out of her skin, dropping the glove. She jerked away from her sister, and strange as it sounded, Elsa missed the feel of her shadow covering her. She glanced down and blushed severely. Of course she did; it was one of the few things that was.

"Who…who did this to you?" Anna asked, her voice trembling on the line between pain and rage. Elsa knew that line well, and hastily stood up, pulling her ruined dress tighter around her shoulders.

"No one! Anna, it was-I did this, to myself."

Anna gawked at her. "You…you did this?"

Elsa nodded fiercely, hoping at least that her passion would override her insincerity.

Anna brought her hand up and gently touched Elsa's neck, and she hissed as her fingertips brushed the bite-mark. Her eyes widened. Oh. Oh.

"I…I think…" Anna bit her lip, and her eyes pleaded with Elsa.

Elsa's shoulders slumped, and she sat down. Anna hesitantly sat beside her, their shoulders brushing.

"I…I'm sorry. For lying to you just now. For lying…for lying to you for all those years. For everything, really. I did it all because I loved you more than anything. More than I ever dared to admit, more than I…more than a sister, should." She swallowed and hung her head. Her fingers were laced together; she didn't remember putting them there.

Anna slid her hand between Elsa's, ignoring her gasp, and pulled it toward her.

"If you forgive me for this," she said slowly, cupping Elsa's hand in her palm, "then I will forgive you for everything." And then she quietly kissed Elsa's fingertips, and Elsa knew. She gave a shuddery inhale, the tears already flowing, curving over her smile.

"I could never blame you to begin with," she breathed. Anna gave her a shaky smile of her own, before moving her hands to Elsa's cheeks.

"I came out here looking for you."

Elsa laughed and pressed her forehead against Anna's.

"You found me."

Meanwhile…

"You-you never told me we didn't get to finish!"

"…I kinda forgot, okay?"

"You forgot that you never got to fuck your own self and your sister at the same time?"

"Look, all I remember was getting seriously turned on, okay?"

"I was so fucking close, and then bam! Nothing!"

"I…sorry."

"Why did you do that to me?"

"I just forgot. Really."

"Well you can forget getting any tonight."

Elsa sighed and lay back against the sheets as Anna continued to curse her poor timing and inability to wait and how this bed was always so fucking cold and difficult to get into, staring up at the newly crafted ice chandelier. She knew her sister would grumble and groan and claim to hate her for hours, but be right as rain come the morning sun. A thought struck her, and she chuckled softly.

She might not be getting any tonight, but she knew someone who had.