The Queen of Arendelle was not a micromanager, but she expected to know the whereabouts of the castle's key personnel: Gerda, Kai, and Captain Revel. Gerda and Kai had been accounted for, but the captain had told her he will be busy keeping an eye on the wharf after receiving intelligence that smugglers from Weselton were planning something. With the rather frosty relations between the two territories, Revel had decided to personally oversee the sting operation to catch the smugglers in the act.
"Do you have to go?" Elsa had asked, hating the pleading note in her voice when he informed her privately in her study.
"I have to. It may be the only time we could catch those bastards in the act," Revel said, enveloping her into a reassuring hug. She felt the tension in her body dissipate somewhat as she let his warmth wash over her. Then, with a gentle kiss on her lips, he took his leave and walked out the study without glancing back.
To keep herself from worrying about her lover's safety, the queen wandered to the library at around eight in the evening and found the princess lounging on the couch. It was the same couch where Elsa and Revel had…made their feelings for each other VERY clear. Elsa schooled her face into a placid expression and cleared her throat in order to get Anna's attention, but apparently she was very engrossed in her novel. She walked up to Anna (who still had her nose stuck in the book) and squinted at the title.
"The Passionate Flower?"
"Gah! Sheesh, Elsa, don't scare me like that. Do you want me to give birth prematurely?" Anna gasped, a hand on her chest.
Elsa raised a perfect eyebrow. "I stood here for a good minute clearing my throat to get your attention. That book you're reading must be very good if you didn't hear me," she remarked.
"Oh. Uh. Yeah, I'd say so," Anna said, glancing at the nondescript brown cover with the title in gold lettering. Elsa could've sworn a crafty look crossed Anna's features, but it was gone by the time she glanced up. "Do you want to borrow it? It's pretty good," she said, a touch of innocence coloring her voice. Elsa felt instantly wary—every time Anna had that tiny little lilt in her voice, it usually meant she was up to no good. But what harm can a book do?
And so, while waiting for her lover to arrive, Elsa retired to her room, taking the book with her. She donned a robe over her nightgown and curled up on the couch in her room to read to pass the time. As she read, Elsa slowly realized why she saw Anna with that crafty look and heard that tiny little lilt in her voice. But like a gawker, she couldn't look away from the disaster she was reading.
The Passionate Flower was a romance novel, chock-full of euphemisms that were, simply put, incredibly bad. Which in turn inspired a feeling that was difficult to pin down, but the best she could come up with was "amused horror." She could only imagine what she looked like—puce complexion and shocked yet fascinated eyes taking up half her face.
Revel found her just like that.
"What are you reading?" he asked, making her jump and release a blast of cold air that twisted into a small dervish around them. With a hand over her galloping heart, Elsa distantly noted that he didn't even flinch.
"Don't do that," she rebuked him weakly. "And don't say 'I enjoy doing it.' I'm serious, Revel," she persisted, noting when his tongue darted out to lick his lips before he grinned, transforming it to a glistening, delectable, kissable mouth…
Good God, where had that thought come from?
Elsa dropped the book like it was hot, drawing Revel's attention to it. He picked it up, glancing at it curiously. "The Passionate Flower," he read the title out loud, peeking at Elsa's reddening face quizzically. "Is this a horror novel? You look scared," he observed.
She didn't think it was possible, but she felt her face growing even redder. "I…uh, don't think you should read it," Elsa said squeakily, standing up to get the book from him. "Anyway, so…what happened? Is everything alright?" she asked, trying to change the subject. She would never live it down if he found out she was reading such drivel. Seeing her discomfiture, Revel's concerned expression morphed into something mischievous.
"You're blushing," he stated, refusing to take her bait, stepping back as she advanced toward him. "Now I'm getting more intrigued. Why is this book getting to you?"
"Stop it, Revel, and give it back!" She lunged toward him and he danced away from her nimbly, thumbing to the page she had earmarked. He cleared his throat theatrically and began reading out loud.
"Rhiannon, now a concubine serving her master—oho, this sounds interesting, indeed!" Revel grinned wickedly at Elsa, who gave up and flopped on the couch, rolling her eyes and petulantly crossing her arms over her chest.
"Oh, read on, it gets better," she said sarcastically, waving a hand. He raised an eyebrow at her and continued.
"…buried her questing fingers in his silky black mane as the sheik soothed the aching buds of her bosom—" Revel's tone went up dubiously—"with his talented tongue. 'I wish to sip the sweet nectar you produce—" he bent closer to the book, as if he couldn't believe what he was reading, mollifying Elsa somewhat. "…between your thighs, my passionate flower,' he murmured." He stopped at this point, his brows snapping together in a disapproving frown. "Who wrote this?" he demanded after a pause of disbelief, slapping the book shut. "Whoever did should be shot for butchering our language and literature!"
Elsa started at his sudden outburst and stared at him. She hadn't expected him to react like that—in fact, she thought he would relish reading it to tease her. She had never been fond of reading romance novels, finding them overwrought and just plain silly, and she should have known what it was based on the title, along with the fact that Anna was reading it. Elsa loved her sister—she really did—but there were times when her tastes and Anna's were just too different. Then again, one shouldn't judge a book by its cover, she thought as she smirked at Revel's outraged expression. An idea started forming in her head—knowing how Revel could get when goaded, she looked at him with a challenging stare as she rose slowly from the couch, plucking the book from his suddenly weakened grasp.
"Why darling, considering the…pleasures we've shared in the past months, I wouldn't have thought you were such a prude," Elsa murmured, pitching her voice low and staring deep into his eyes.
Revel glowered and stood his ground. "I am not a prude," he maintained, setting his jaw stubbornly. "I simply do not care for such terrible writing."
"Pity. I agree the writing was deplorable, but the descriptions were rather fascinating as well, don't you think?"
"Are you goading me into doing something?"
Elsa shrugged delicately, letting her robe slip off from one ivory shoulder. The nightgown she wore was sleeveless and had thin straps—she had Ingrid make it for her since there were nights that felt too warm. Besides, as she had declared up the North Mountain, the cold never bothered her anyway. She felt a thrill when Revel's stare intensified. But what he said next jarred her out of her playful mood.
"Fine. I challenge you to a readoff of this godawful passage." Elsa's jaw dropped open. That wasn't what she had in mind at all—she only wanted to seduce him, but then it wasn't in her nature to back down, either. She snapped her mouth shut, her back straightening at the same moment she squared her shoulders.
"Challenge accepted, Captain. What are terms for winning?" she asked, smoothing her expression into a poker face and hitching the collar of her robe back up her shoulder.
Revel leered and stepped closer. "Simple. Whoever laughs while the reading or listening to a ridiculous sentence from this book takes off an article of his or her clothing. Are you agreeable to my terms, Majesty?"
Elsa steeled herself with the knowledge she could win this handily. After all, she had gone through thirteen years of concealing her true feelings—why, she was practically a master at that. "Deal," she said, holding out her hand. "Let us seal this accord with a handshake, then."
Revel took her hand and shook it firmly. "So, who will go first?" he asked with a broad grin, still not letting go of her.
"Before we start, I'd like to check if we're on an even playing field, Captain. You must admit, I'm not wearing much. Just my nightgown and a thin robe," Elsa remarked mildly, removing her hand from his grip. The tiniest spark of desire ignited in Revel's green eyes when she said that, but she kept her face pleasantly bland.
"Of course. Silly of me not to have thought about that," Revel acquiesced with a bow of his head. Keeping his eyes on hers, he removed his coat and boots, leaving him barefoot and wearing only his white linen shirt, the collar undone and the hem untucked from his brown trousers. Elsa's scrutiny raked over him, from the strong column of his neck, down to the open collar which exposed part of his hair-dusted chest. Her fingers itched to touch him, but she held herself back.
"Is everything to your liking, Majesty?" Revel asked huskily, spreading his arms out. The thin linen against the firelight outlined his body, which made Elsa's skin prickle in remembrance at how it felt alongside hers.
"It is enough," she said, managing to keep her voice steady. "Shall we begin?"
"Ladies first, since you're holding the book."
"Oh no, you challenged me, remember? So you should go first." Elsa held out the book to Revel, who shrugged and took it from her. Their fingertips accidentally brushed, sending a warm wave of awareness throughout her body. Revel was not unaffected; the shadows the firelight had cast around the room did not hide how a muscle ticked in his jaw, which made Elsa more confident of her chances of winning against him. You should learn to pick your battles with me, she thought, allowing herself to feel smug. Yes, this one's definitely in the bag.
Revel cleared his throat and opened the book to begin reading. "Rhiannon, now a concubine serving her master," he said, his face completely serious, "buried her questing fingers in his silky black mane as the sheik soothed the aching buds of her bosom with his talented tongue. 'I wish to sip the sweet nectar you produce between your thighs, my passionate flower,' he murmured." Revel actually changed his accent when he spoke the as the sheik.
He must have picked that up during his travels as a boy, Elsa mused, her pulse starting to race as the rich sound of his voice filled her ears. She mentally shook herself. Focus, Elsa. Don't be distracted by him.
"The concubine gasped her outrage but was helpless against her master's sensual assault on her femininity." Revel flicked a heavy-lidded glance at her and licked his lips. Did he—did he just do that on purpose? She blinked, keeping her calm while valiantly trying to repress memories of him doing the exact thing the sheik did to Rhiannon. He had always done that…thing with finesse, a hot promise burning in his eyes as he held down her thrashing limbs.
Oh, God…now I'm starting to think like that damn book, Elsa realized, gulping. And he's only read two sentences!
The thought was so ridiculous that Elsa, considering herself as calm and rational, couldn't keep back a bark of laughter when an image of her dressed in a pink belly dancer costume and a bearded, mustachioed Sheik Revel pressing her down on a low bed flashed before her mind's eye.
"Point for me, Majesty. Now let's get that robe off, shall we?"
"What? That wasn't even a laugh!" Elsa protested, but knowing full well that it was. She cursed her suddenly overactive imagination, causing Revel to raise his eyebrows at her as if to say 'really?' "No one likes a sore loser," he chided as Elsa threw up her hands in defeat, standing to shrug out of her robe. The silken material slid down her body with a whisper and pooled at her feet. She kept her eyes on the floor as she divested herself of her robe, feeling his gaze on her. Bending to retrieve her discarded robe, she draped it over the couch's backrest. Expectant blue met intense green when she found the courage to look at him.
"You've turned red," Revel said, holding out the book. Squaring her shoulders, they switched places, he sitting on the couch and she standing before him. Taking a breath, she started where he left off.
"When he felt she was ready, the sheik impaled his…th-throbbing spear of m-manflesh between the d-dew-moistened feminine petals of her p-passionate flower." This time, and for some incredibly ridiculous reason, an image of a spear with a blunt, flesh-colored spearhead plunging into a rose in full bloom invaded her mind's eye. She had attributed her first loss as a fluke, but now she wasn't so sure. Why was her mind showing her these absurd images? She paused, clenching her jaw as she visualized herself freezing both the now-floppy spearhead and rose with her ice magic. There, she huffed inwardly, that ought to teach you. Elsa shifted her weight from foot to foot and continued on with grim determination. "His mighty manroot easily tore through her vulnerable gates and plunged straight to her throbbing core."
This time, an image of a phallus-shaped ginger root with chariot wheels crashing through the castle gates came to mind.
And so, the stoic ruler of Arendelle, Queen Elsa, whose motto for thirteen years was "conceal, don't feel", finally lost it.
Oh, to hell with it, she thought, collapsing on the couch as she dissolved into helpless laughter. She vaguely heard Revel say dryly, "I'll wait for you to calm down before declaring myself as the winner." She waved him off as she clutched her stomach, gasping. As her laughing fit died down, she managed to open her eyes slightly and saw him looking at her with a fond expression on his face. Elsa sat up and coughed lightly, gathering the tattered shreds of her queenly dignity.
"You win, sir," she conceded, holding her hand out for him to shake. Revel shook his head and flashed her an amused half-smile as he shook her hand.
"I did, didn't I? But before I declare victory, I have to ask—what was going through your head when you read those passages?"
Elsa sighed, rubbing her temple. "You don't want to know," she mumbled.
"Try me."
She pursed her lips thoughtfully. "Oh God, where do I start?" she wondered.
"From the beginning is a good place to do so."
"Ass."
"As I've always been, Elsa." Revel smiled, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear. Her loose braid had become undone in the middle of her fit, and it spilled in abundant waves over her shoulders and back. "It was good to hear you laugh," he murmured, running his hands through her hair. "It was the first time I've seen you let loose like that, and it was beautiful to watch."
Elsa raised a doubtful eyebrow at him. "Really? Because I was pretty sure I was snorting like a pig as I did." She exhaled to blow a lock of hair off her forehead. "Well, it has been stressful lately, what with the Spring Trade Summit and those smugglers."
"Mmm-hmm," Revel mumbled, pushing her back on the couch and raining soft kisses down her neck.
"W-what are you…"
"Claiming my prize."
"Don't you want to hear about—?"
"Later. Much later," he growled as he slid a warm hand up her leg, across her thigh and into the heat of the wetness between her legs. Elsa's head fell back against the armrest behind her, a breathy sigh escaping past her lips. Revel continued his passionate assault, lifting her nightgown and peppering her body with teasing kisses that only served to bank the desire burning in her abdomen. He glanced up at her once, the lust in his eyes scorching her. When her lover's tongue slipped past her navel, she curled her fingers in his thick hair, much like the concubine had done with her sheik. She almost came off the cushions when his tongue circled the sensitive nub, sending shocks rippling through her body. Time stood still for her; nothing mattered except giving in to the pleasure washing over her again and again.
"We never did finish reading that ridiculous passage," Elsa murmured, tracing circles over Revel's chest with her index finger. She listened to the reassuring sound of his heartbeat, which was still racing from their lovemaking. He seemed fiercer tonight, determined to bring her to the heights of climax as many times as he could before he succumbed to his own. She fought back a blush as she remembered him doing that…thing with his—to borrow a phrase from that book—talented tongue.
She wondered if and how she could return the favor.
"Yes, and you never told me why you lost so badly," Revel agreed. Elsa pinched his arm and he recoiled, laughing. "Ow! I was just telling the truth," he protested.
"If you must know, I kept getting these mental images of how the sheik bedded Rhiannon. Literal interpretations of those awful metaphors," Elsa answered, shaking her head. "And here I thought my mastery over my emotions would help me win," she admitted ruefully.
"You got too cocky, Elsa," Revel teased, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively, making her laugh.
"Oh, stop it with those innuendos! I swear that's what got me to lose." Then again, I did win somewhat, didn't I? she thought, keeping back a naughty smile. He worked twice as hard to prove he wasn't a prude. She shook her head mentally. I really have to fish my mind out of the gutter. This is all Anna's fault.
"Well, now I'm curious what happened next," Revel said, gently dislodging Elsa from him to get up. She watched him as he walked toward the couch, admiring how his sinuous body moved. "Ah, here it is." Elsa followed the line of hair that began just under his navel and trickled down his stomach to his groin as he walked back to her bed. Funny how easily her desire is stirred whenever she saw that intriguing trail. He settled in easily beside her and began to read out loud.
"Rhiannon, now a concubine serving her master, buried her questing fingers in his silky black mane as the sheik soothed the aching buds of her bosom with his talented tongue. 'I wish to sip the sweet nectar you produce between your thighs, my passionate flower,'" Revel said, his voice pitched low. "The concubine gasped her outrage but was helpless against her master's sensual assault on her femininity. When he felt she was ready, the sheik impaled his throbbing spear of manflesh between the dew-moistened feminine petals of her passionate flower. His mighty manroot easily tore through her vulnerable gates and plunged straight to her throbbing core. It was painful at first, but the pleasure his tumescence brought her crested sharply, washing over her like a tidal wave. He burst within her like a ripe melon as she screamed her pleasure like a well-satisfied banshee. 'Well, well, wench,' the sheik gasped, smiling benevolently at Rhiannon. "You were satisfactory enough."
A moment of silence descended upon the lovers as they absorbed what Revel just read. That silence was shattered when his cheeks puffed out before a burst of laughter exploded from him. Elsa soon followed suit, clutching at him as they descended into a helpless, uncontrollable bout of hilarity.
"Oh God…that was horrible. Really horrible. Sounds painful for Rhiannon. Where did you get this?" Revel asked, wiping tears from his eyes.
"Anna," Elsa squeezed out, still laughing. That book was absolutely the worst piece of literature she had ever read, but considering what it brought her tonight—laughter, which she sorely needed—she might look at it with a kinder eye from now on. "I don't know if I should hug her or strangle her for lending me this…travesty," she said, shaking her head.
"Thank her," Revel suggested, reaching over to place the book on the small table beside her bed. "For tonight," he said, adopting the accent he used earlier for the sheik, "much love has been made, my passionate flower." He grinned at her cheesily and twirled an imaginary mustache with his finger. This time, Elsa groaned and shoved him.
"If you want to get anywhere with me, I would advise you NOT to call me that," she retorted.
"As you wish, Majesty."
"Elsa."
"Of course, Elsa." It never failed to thrill her whenever she heard him speak her name. She settled against his chest once more as he pressed a gentle kiss on her temple.
"Sweet dreams, darling," he murmured as she surrendered herself to slumber.
Note: I wrote this while buried up to my ears in work, which came off as bland at first. JEGlass was kind enough to step in and pepper it with the spiciness it needed. Personally, I think the humor fell flat a bit (entirely my fault). Ah, well, it's something I'll need to work on. It was great collaborating with her.
