Chapter warnings: Questionable sisterly behavior, violence.
I don't own Frozen.
The ride home takes place in relative silence for the sisters. Anna fidgets in her seat and continuously bites her lip and tucks her braids behind her ear. Out of the corner of her eye, Elsa can see her casting glances at her every so often. The redhead tries to entertain herself by looking at whatever is out of the window, but it doesn't work for more than five seconds before she's looking at Elsa again. And when she starts putting her hands together and locks her fingers in various ways and does strange motions with them, some looking painful, Elsa knows she should say something. Seeing Anna so distressed, while Elsa herself is being the cause, is unacceptable for the platinum blonde. There's no room for anything other than happiness in the redhead's life.
"Anna?"
"Yes?"
"I'm okay, I promise. I will tell you everything at home. Just, please, don't look so gloomy and sad. It's not like you to be like that. It hurts me seeing you like this."
"Sorry, Els, I can't help it. I just care."
Taking advantage of the stoplight, Elsa looks at her sister and takes one of her hands in her own. "I know you do, Anna. You have no idea how happy it makes me to have you care for me. Just hold out a little longer, okay? We're almost home."
Anna manages to give a tiny a smile but even that is wiped off her face when a thought crosses her mind. Elsa is the one that got hurt and now she's the one comforting me. At that moment, Anna feels incredibly useless and nothing but a thorn in Elsa's side. She knows that's not true, because Elsa has told her many times in the past that she's glad to have Anna at her side and that she will always love her. But still, the current situation, and Anna's behavior during it, makes her feel like she's taking more out of Elsa rather than somehow helping her. True, Elsa asked her to wait until they're home and she's going to respect that.
Like she respected Elsa's requests to not watch her dance in the club. Yeah, Anna respected those alright... She briefly thinks about if she should use her status as younger sibling to annoy the answer out of Elsa. The redhead knows her sister won't hate her, just be annoyed with her. But as quickly as that course of action came to her, it was as quickly thrown out the window.
First, lying to Elsa about why she took the job. Then, ignoring Elsa and watching her strip against her wishes. And now, using her vulnerable state to get an answer out of her because she can't wait a measly 15 more minutes? That would be the ultimate douchebag behavior and Anna is not a douchebag. Despite her actions. She's been selfish, and right here, right now, she decides she'll no longer be selfish and will adhere to every of Elsa's wishes. And tell her the truth… maybe.
The car stops in the familiar driveway of their house. The girls quickly step out, Elsa locking the car and walk together to their front door. The blonde slowly walks over to the couch in the living room and flops, somehow gracefully, on the leathery surface with a groan. Meanwhile, Anna is in the kitchen, fetching a glass of water for both of them and quickly makes her way to her sister. Anna, too, flops on the couch, much less gracefully than Elsa, and offers her a glass.
Elsa accepts it and gulps down the contents in one go as if she's never had water before. Setting the glass on the table, she looks at Anna. "Thank you." The blonde sighs. "Guess I should get to it, huh?"
While Anna is dying to know, she can see the dejected and tired expression on Elsa's face. The way she's leaned back on the couch with her head craned, resting on the cushions, eyes closed and lips slightly parted. The angry red marks around the older girl's neck tell Anna enough for now. The redhead has a chance to act on the promise to herself in the car. Yes, she wants to know what happened to Elsa, but simply looking at the blonde tells her she's not in the mood to discuss it.
She scoots closer to Elsa and brings a hand to her throat, gently caressing the bruises staining the flawless porcelain skin. She puts the strength of a feather in her touch, soothing the damaged skin, feeling as Elsa's throat bobs with her swallow. When the blonde leans in to the touch and hums contently, eyes still closed, Anna is encouraged to continue her ministrations.
Acting before thinking, Anna leans in and presses her lips against the throat in her hand, puckering them along the way and tenderly kissing the silk of skin. When Elsa doesn't stop her, the redhead continues kissing her all over the damaged skin, each peck against her neck impossibly soft and gentle. Her lips glide over the marred throat, sliding smoothly along skin, filling the room with the sounds of kissing lips.
When Elsa moans, small and restrained, Anna finally realizes what she's doing. She's kissing her older sister's neck, and it's far from sisterly affections. The redhead pulls away slowly and retracts her hand. Cheeks red with embarrassment at her actions, she speaks. "God, Elsa." It came out more like a breath than anything.
Cheeks further reddening, she tries again. "I-I-I'm sorry, I wasn't thinking. I just wanted to make you feel good. I didn't mean for it to be so…" Intimate. "…weird." She bites her lip to stop herself from saying more than necessary.
The blonde opens her eyes and her cheeks are slightly flushed. She clears her throat before speaking. "No, it's fine. It wasn't… weird. Just different. But it was good. I-I mean, it made me feel good."
"Really? You're not, I dunno, weirded out by me or anything?"
"No. Your lips felt really good against me. And your hands too…"
Neither sister knows how to continue after that, so they descend into an uncomfortable silence, both red in the cheeks from Elsa's comment.
After a few minutes of lounging around the couch, Elsa speaks. "Hey, we should watch a movie and have some food. What do you say?"
"Uh, yeah, sure. Did you have something in mind?"
"I'll just go pick something out and get us food."
"Let me do it, Els. You've been, well…" She gestures to her throat. "been through things, today." She finishes lamely.
Elsa quickly stands up. "No, Anna, it's okay. I'll do it. You just wait here."
"O-okay." But the blonde is already out the room.
Behind the shut door of her room, Elsa exhales and covers her face in both her palms. What were you thinking, Elsa?! Moaning like that, then telling her lips and hands felt good... Oh, but they did. Even now, the blonde can feel the tingle on her throat from Anna's touch. The skin there is on fire, and not because of the bruises left. It's a calm flame, slowly spreading from her throat to the rest of her body, making it ache and crave for Anna's touch. Only her angel-like hands and her butterfly-soft lips can douse the – now fierce – flame she inadvertently started.
Damn it, Elsa. You can't feel like this. Conceal, don't feel. Don't let it show. I shut myself from her for a reason, it can't have been for nothing. I thought I got rid of these feelings. Conceal it, Elsa. Don't let her see.
Despite her efforts, Elsa can't bring her mind off what had transpired earlier. The redhead's soothes made her throbbing neck feel infinitely better. Her caressing hands and her soft, oh so soft, lips banished the pain like it was never there, leaving only the desire for her touch. The only thing that existed in that moment was Anna. She unconsciously brings a hand to her throat, desperately attempting to re-create the touch and failing miserably.
I can't shut her out again, it would bring her too much pain. I can't see her suffer, my heart won't take it. Why do I have these feelings, damn it?! She's my little sister. We can't ever be together. We can't…
Elsa slides down her door, bringing her knees up to her chin and hugs them. She rests her face atop them and cries her sorrows away.
Meanwhile, Anna is still on the couch, thinking over what their last interaction meant.
She said she liked it. Well, she didn't say she liked it literally but she did say it made her feel good. That my hands and my lips made her feel good. She doesn't think it's weird. And… I could have sworn I heard her moan. Yes, this was good. I made her feel good.
Confident their encounter ended on a positive note, Anna leans back comfortably on the couch, a big grin adorning her freckled face, and waits for her sister while letting her mind wander.
The northern part of Arendelle, past the city's large forest and up the chilling mountains, one can find the northernmost part of the city, aptly named The North Mountain. Life is mostly devoid here, due to the harsh snow that never ceases to rain, making the ground unreliable and unstable to build on.
But this doesn't bother him.
After finding the only stable enough place to build on, Wesker commissioned a mansion to be constructed here, away from the city and away from everything. After construction was completed, Wesker killed all the workers, bare handed, and covered their deaths by using the place's unstable environment. That way, only he knows where the mansion is.
Currently, the man is in his mansion's training room, preparing for his session. The training room is a large chamber, majority of the room dominated by the immense obstacle course. Various ramps and slopes lead to hanging ledges and swinging poles. Tight ropes and climbing walls, swimming pool and even target practice. Anything and everything.
The man dresses in his training outfit and takes position in front of the course's start. Taking a running start, the man crosses a threshold in front of the beginning slope, starting a huge timer on the wall.
Wesker is as fast as a cheetah, as nimble as a monkey and strong as a bear. He runs along the ramps, performing impossibly big leaps across the gaps, shimmying ledges as quickly as he runs. He takes huge strides across the tightropes, not a care for balance because the man is fast enough to walk across it before he even leans towards a side. Sliding down yet another ramp, the man pulls out a gun from his hip and aims whilst sliding. The targets pop out and they're gone quicker than they showed up. Reaching the end of the ramp, Wesker jumps and shoots another target mid-air. He hangs on a ledge and aims down, shooting three more targets.
Releasing his grip on the ledge, the man falls down, reloading as he does so, on a column. Targets pop out all around the him. He pulls another gun and extends his hands in front of him. Criss-crossing them, he pulls the triggers, taking down two targets. His trigger fingers are fast enough to make the guns shoot almost like they're fully automatic. Untangling his arms, the man spreads them outward and takes down every target on either of his sides. When he can no longer bend his arms, he quickly turns on one foot and takes down the remaining targets.
After all of them are down, the man spins the guns around the triggers and holsters them. He puts his hands together and dives into the water below him. He swims across the vast expanse of water, not once stopping to take a breath of air.
He emerges from the pool, marking the end of his training course.
His breathing is as calm and even as when he first entered the room. It's as if the man didn't just do a huge training course and his defined abs, along with the rest of his body are wet, but not because he's sweating.
A loud, computerized female voice booms in the great room.
"32.19 seconds. Congratulations, this is a new record. The previous record was 33.57 seconds."
Wesker reaches into his pocket, pulling out his shades and covering his eyes as he walks away.
Back at Arendelle, during the the cover of midnight, Kristoff of the Winterfire and his team are surrounding an abandoned command post. They have it on good authority that their target is currently inside, unsuspecting of their presence. The team of three men and one woman are currently going over their plan inside their van of operations.
Kristoff is leaning on the computer protruding from the middle of van, showing the blueprints of the command post, explaining his plan to the team. "It's a two storey building and there's only one entrance. At least, one official entrance. There is a pipe along the left side of the building, leading up to a window that can be easily infiltrated. Our target, Lambert, is on the second floor, at the northeast side of the building. The blueprints here are showing there's an office there. If this is anything like our previous missions, then the doors will be fortified and the windows will be guarded. Which means we have to be extra careful and extra lethal."
A thick Norwegian accent speaks. "What's it gonna be boss? Stealth or assault?"
"I'm glad you ask, Sven. It's gonna be both."
A clear, female British accent from the corner of the van speaks, accompanied by the sounds of knife sharpening. "Both? This ought to be interesting."
"From previous missions, we know that our enemies are fortifying their doors, making them impenetrable to normal breach and clear ops. But, this time, we got a little special something straight from HQ's labs." Kristoff walks to his pack and pulls something out, throwing it on the computer.
The woman speaks again, astonished. "Is that?"
"Yes, Vicky, it is. Genuine Winterfire. The explosion that can be generated by this is more than strong enough to blow us open some reinforced doors. So strong, in fact, that it can easily disable any hostiles on the other side. The materials in it won't leave any smoke and the sound it produces will be mostly drowned out by itself."
"So, you're saying this can create an explosion equal to a bunch of C4 and make virtually no noise?" Sven asks, bewildered.
Vicky walks to the table, speaking. "Not only that." She grabs the package to inspect it. "But it can also be salvaged. The materials that make this thing don't get completely wasted in the process of exploding, meaning they can be retrieved and used to build another Winterfire. Quite a piece of chemistry, this is."
"However, if you take a look at the blueprints, you're gonna see that the entrance is easily a choke point. There can be guards posted back enough so that they won't get phased by the explosion and ready to open fire as soon as the doors are blown open."
The backdoors to the van open and in walks Carter, zipping his fly. "Alright team, what did I miss?"
"Can you at least be civilized enough to not do that" She points at his crotch. "in front of us?"
Carter puts on a mock British accent. "Oh, I'm sorry, love, for having a view on civilization that differs from your own."
"I can see your view goes about as far as mocking someone because they were born in a different part of the world, which we all share, mind you."
"Hey! Stop your bickering. We're on a mission. You got any personal problems, you settle them somewhere that's not here. Got it?"
"She started it!"
"And I'm finishing it! Settle down, both of you." Kristoff sighs. "Now, here's the plan. Sven, you and Carter are gonna breach the front entrance, using the Winterfire."
"Whoa, we get Winterfire for this? Ha-ha, the mission just got a whole lot better."
"When you two blow open the doors, there will most likely be guys on the other side, shooting as soon the door goes down."
"What, you want us walking to our deaths?"
"No, Carter, you wait till they stop shooting. Then you show up and shoot them, simple. Once you're in, you clear the first floor of all remaining hostiles. And you stay on the first floor, in case these guys have backup, got it?"
Sven and Carter nod.
"Now, me and Vicky are gonna go around the building, up the pipe that leads to a window on the second floor. Most of the guards in the place will be distracted with the explosion down on the first floor, giving us the time and cover we need to make our way to the room in which we suspect Lambert is holed up in. That's the plan, gentlemen, lady. Any questions?"
Everyone remains silent.
"Good, we start in fifteen minutes. Prepare your gear."
Elsa cries. Cries until there are no more tears left in her. She shakes with the force of her sobs until the world around her is spinning. Forcing herself to stop before she's gone too long, Elsa wipes a hand across her eyes and takes a few calming breaths. Conceal, don't feel.
The blonde stands from her position on the ground against the door, and makes her way to her DVD collection. Picking a film she knows Anna will like, Elsa stops at her wardrobe for a change of clothes. Donning simple black wool shorts and a white t-shirt, the blonde makes her way to the bathroom to erase any evidence of crying her face is bearing.
She splashes multiple handfuls of water on her face while chanting her mantra of "Conceal, don't feel". Her eyes are no longer red around the edges and the tear stains are gone. There. Like I never cried. She quickly brushes her teeth and makes her way downstairs.
Elsa steps into the kitchen and retrieves two glasses from the cupboard. She opens the fridge to look for some food. Hmm, well, it's too late to properly cook something. But I don't want some shitty microwave food. A-ha, I'll make us some sandwiches.
She grabs two handfuls of ingredients and sets them atop the kitchen counter with a loud groan. She opens a drawer and spots some hot chocolate. Perfect. The blonde quickly sets to boiling some water, and setting some bread in the toaster. She gets to work on chopping and cutting the various ingredients she's prepared for the sandwiches.
In the middle of cutting some cheese, Elsa almost cuts herself when two arms wrap around her waist and pull her in a backwards hug. "Hey, Els." She feels breath on her neck and the sensation of who's that breath is, almost makes her knees give out. Anna is pressing the side of her face between her shoulder blades. "Whatcha doin', sis?"
Flustered by the sudden contact, Elsa has some trouble speaking. "Just, uh, y-you know. The usual…"
"The usual would be stripping. But I see no pole around."
Forgetting herself for a moment in favor of abandonig her sour mood, Elsa decides to respond to the challenge. Oh, you wanna play? I'll play with you. "Is that a challenge?"
"I dunno, is it?"
The blonde's voice goes a tone lower. "Why don't you take a seat, dear sister, and watch me as I make you food, hmm?" Elsa turns around in Anna's embrace and gently pushes her until her butt is on one of the kitchen's chairs.
The blonde employs her sexy strut technique as she makes her way back to the kitchen counter, making sure to sway her hips for her one woman audience.
Anna's mind is positively buzzing. Is this really happening? Is this really, really, really happening?! Oh my god, her hips… The redhead pinches herself to make sure she's hasn't passed out and is currently a drooling mess on the couch. Ow… Okay, guess this is real. Holy shit.
While she's making her way back to the counter, Elsa thinks. This is okay, right? I mean, I'm not really showing her my feelings by doing this. She just thinks I'm doing it because of her challenge. And I won't actually strip, just tease the girl a little. I don't want her seeing me nude, but some showing off can't hurt. Yes, this is fine.
Anna continues to stare at the older woman's hips, utterly entranced by each and every sway, from left to right, left to right... When Elsa is far enough, the redhead gets a good view of her sister's mile long, flawless milky legs. She imagines gliding her hands along the smooth surface, feeling the warm skin and caress every strong, taut muscle in them. Her pink tongue darts out from between her lips to wet the suddenly dry fleshiness.
The stripper ends her walk and bends over the counter, due to her distance away from it, and reaches for the knife and butter.
While bent, her shorts are pulled tight against her skin, causing the bottom of her firm buttocks to peek out from beneath the fabric. The offending piece of cloth is so tight on her, Anna can see the outline of the blonde's panties straining against the shorts.
It's taking all of the redhead's concentration to not make any noises and to keep herself from hyperventilating at the sight. Elsa, what are you doing to me? You're a goddess…
The toaster dings then and the blonde stripper struts over to it, grabbing the toast and setting it on the counter. She gets to work on buttering the burned bread, while leaning her body's weight on her right leg. Her right hip protrudes proudly and she minutely bends herself at the waist, bringing attention to her clothed rear.
Buttering the bread quickly, while swaying her backside as if it's a pendulum, Elsa turns so her body's side is in Anna's view. The blonde wipes her "accidentally" buttered up fingers along her shirt. Reaching the hem of it, she swipes her hand up, dragging the fabric along, and revealing a flat plane of an abdomen, adorned with a distracting navel, dipping shyly inwards. Letting the redhead savour the view, Elsa continues to slowly drag her hand upwards, stopping at the base of a breast. Knowing full well Anna's eyes are on her hand, the stripper drags it up the supple flesh and wipes her fingers around her nipple, quickly stiffening the pink peak under her own touch.
With all the effort it's taking Anna to hold back her noises and keep her white-knuckled hands gripping the chair's arms as if her life depends on it, her whole body shakes due to the force of her resistance. Her cheeks are openly mimicking the colour of her hair and her whole body is brought to a searing heat by her boiling blood. The girl, discreetly, tries to bring her thighs as close together as possible, hoping for any sort of miniscule friction to tame the raging inferno between them. Little does she know, a part of Elsa's job is watching her audience as closely as the audience is watching her.
So, when the blonde sees Anna's legs coming together, she knows her job is done. Smirking to herself, and deciding to stop this before it gets too far, Elsa saunters over to her younger sister and places down the sandwich on the table with a graceful bend of her body. "Enjoy your food." She says in a sultry tone and gives the younger a wink, walking out of the kitchen to the living room to prepare their movie.
When Anna is left alone, the redhead performs the sigh of sighs and leans forward on her chair, resting her hands on her knees and lowering her head. Holy shit! That was the hottest thing I've ever seen. No porn has made me this wet in so little time. Reaching into her jeans, she feels the fabric of her panties, quickly realizing she's soiled them. Retracting her hand, it takes what little willpower is left in her to not brush her fingers against her hot core. Taking a few calming breaths, she stands up and makes her way to the living room.
"Alright, everyone ready?" Kristoff asks his team, standing behind the closed doors of the van, supressed gun in hand, with Vicky behind him, Carter and Sven to his left.
"Ready." Comes the simultaneous response.
"On the count of three." Kristoff grips the handle of the van's right door and Carter grips the left. "One – two – three!"
The doors open and the team rolls out with practiced efficiency. A few jogged steps in, Kristoff and Vicky separate from their comrades and hang a left, hiding in an alleyway leading up to the side of the building.
Carter and Sven time their movements carefully, moving only under the cover of shadows and when the patrols around the building aren't looking in their general direction.
Sven ducks behind a dumpster right when a window patrol on the second floor turns his gaze to him. He scopes out Carter around the corner of the dumpster, slightly ahead of his position. His partner warns him with a hand gesture that a guard is approaching to Sven's left side. He focuses on the sounds around him and soon hears the footsteps of the guard, echoing closer with each second. The footsteps come to a stop and Sven quickly lashes out the dumpster, combat knife in hand, and places his palm on his victim's mouth and swiftly ducks down behind the dumpster, taking the guard with him. He sinks his blade in the man's neck, immediately ending his life. Sven throws open the dumpster and disposes of the body inside. He takes another look around and moves next to Carter.
"Nice kill."
"Thanks."
Carter points over yonder. "There's a guard in each of the windows, but if we move when they're distracted under the shadows, they won't see us. There are two guards right beside the doors."
"Sounds easy enough."
"You ready?" Sven nods. "On my mark." Carter raises two fingers in the air and holds them up in a "wait" gesture. "Steady… steadyyy… now, go, go."
The duo move swiftly and silently, behind a wall, where they can get a better shot at the two on the doors. "Okay, you take the one on the right, and leave the left one to me. On three. One – two – three."
Two supressed rifles go off at once, felling the guards simultaneously with thumps. "Let's move."
They quickly make their way to the entrance and Carter sets up the Winterfire on the doors.
Sven presses two fingers to his ear, activating his headset. "Kristoff, we're at the entrance."
Meanwhile, Kristoff and Vicky made their way past the alleyway and are currently round the left side of the building.
Vicky, scoping out the area, ducks down and reports. "There's one guard at the window we're supposed to enter through and one at the base of the pipe."
"I don't like this."
"Why?"
"Something's not right. There are too few guards in this place. I just got word from Sven they're at the entrance and they only had to kill three guards. Wesker usually puts more men guarding his outposts."
"You think this might be a trap?"
"Maybe." Kristoff speaks into his headset. "Sven, we might be dealing with a trap here. Exercise extra caution."
"Roger that."
"Let's go, Vicky."
The two quickly vault over the ledge they're hiding behind and use the cover of midnight to slip undetected to a wall near their target. Kristoff peeks around a corner and takes out the guard at the base of the pipe with a well-placed shot.
They dart from their cover and get to work on the hiding the corpse in a shady corner. Once at the pipe, Kristoff gestures for Vicky to climb. She scales the pipe quickly and silently, motioning for Kristoff she's ready.
Kristoff speaks through his headset. "Sven, we're set. Blow the doors."
"Affirmative."
A moment later, the sound of wood and metal being destroyed is Vicky's cue. She reaches up, knife in hand and stabs the guard in this throat, killing him instantly. She uses the knife's grip as a handle, and pulls him over the window, in Kristoff's waiting arms.
He hides the body in the same shady corner and scales the pipe quickly, joining his partner on the second floor. So far, they've heard no gunshots.
Sven and Carter are behind either side of the blown open doors, waiting for the rain of fire upon on them. But it doesn't come.
Peeking his head over the corner, Carter sees nothing. He walks in carefully, checking every corner and comes across double doors. Without a word, he gets in position to break open the door with Sven ready to rush in and kill whoever is on the other side. With three nods of his head, he bursts the door open and his partner rushes past him to shoot… no one.
The place is absolutely deserted. No guards, nothing. They quickly scout the first floor, realizing it is indeed completely empty, save for the basic furniture in the room.
"Kristoff, the first floor is empty. We swept the area and encountered no resistance. There's nothing here."
"This isn't over yet, look for any clues that Wesker might have been here."
"You got it."
Kristoff and Vicky, too, have met no resistance on the second floor so far. They're honing in on the office their target, Lambert is supposed to be in. Shoving the doors open, Kristoff points his gun and shouts a "Freeze!"
Lambert is, indeed, in the office and he's calmly sitting on his desk as if the building isn't being assaulted. "Where's Wesker?!" Kristoff demands.
The man slowly turns in his chair and stares at Kristoff, smirk on his face. "Wesker? Whoever that might be?"
"Cut the crap. We know you're working for him. We can do this one of two ways."
"The only way you find Wesker is if he wants you to find him."
Suddenly, the window in the room shatters and Kristoff covers his eyes. The object that broke the window, a smoke grenade, explodes and covers the room in its thick alchemical fog. Kristoff is forced to the ground and he hears Lambert laugh.
When the smoke clears, Vicky rushes to the window and sees a car driving off, no doubt Lambert inside it. "We've lost him." She states emotionless.
"Damn it! Search this place. There's gotta be something here."
"Sven, we lost Lambert." Vicky speaks through her headset.
Searching the entire room, the agents end up empty-handed. Kristoff grunts and kicks the desk with force. He looks to his side and spots something in the dark corner of the window Lambert escaped from.
He kneels down and grabs the tarnished piece of paper. Upon closer inspection, he finds out it's a business card. "The Blue Moon?" he muses out loud. Turning the paper over, he reads what he assumes to be a nickname: The Ice Queen.