A/N: It's been a while since I updated, I'll explain a little bit more about that at the end. But for now, I'd just like to say thank you to everyone that's still reading and any new readers. Hope you like it.


*{-}It Must Be So Lonely To Be The Only One That's Holy{-}*

A smile grew on her lips, genuine and pleased. She would finally be able to have the wife she desired to share her life with without the hindrance of his imposing nature and aged opinions.

And who better to take as a wife than the most beautiful woman she had ever laid eyes on.

Everything would be different now; everything she wanted was within her grasp. She could finally be happy after all those years of being oppressed. She would take what she wanted; there was no one to stop her being happy anymore.

After sending friends from across the border to assess the situation and report back, she was sure that her beautiful bride would not be far behind; at last she could have what she had desired for many past painful years.

Having learnt of the disgusting arrangement, she had immediately set to trying to right it. She was going to fix it; she would fix it all.

Her fair bride was waiting for her, whether she knew it or not.


The dark rings under Elsa's eyes did not go unnoticed by Gerda that morning and, as the handmaiden raised a brow in question, the hardness in the queen's eyes warned she shouldn't comment.

But the handmaid was never so easily dissuaded from prying. She poured a cup of tea and offered it to the young queen.

"I could have brought you something to help you sleep…" Elsa gave an exhausted sigh, accepting the teacup from the older woman.

"She was crying again."

Gerda frowned – oblivious for just a second or two as to whom Elsa was referring. Then, as it dawned on her, she gave a terse smile.

"She should feel at home. She needs you to be her family now."

"I have no idea how I'm even supposed to talk to her."

"Well, you'd best get an idea because you'll be doing a lot more than "talking" when she's your wife," Gerda chuckled at Elsa's displeasure, evident in wide eyes and pink cheeks.

"Don't be so uncouth, Gerda."

"Just make her feel special - appreciated," the handmaid replied as she reached to retrieve the breakfast tray. "She's a pretty girl… appreciate her; make her feel like you want her here," she added before pulling Elsa's study door closed behind her, giving the queen no opportunity to argue her sage advice.


Cristina stared out of the window. The fjord was actually beautiful – the expanse of clear calm waters shadowing that of the canals in Venetia.

She thought as she gazed. She thought about all the things she had left in Venetia. And it didn't sound so bad; she had left an emotionally abusive stepmother, an uncaring father, judgemental siblings...

"But it was home," she whispered, breath fogging on the glass. "Questo è ridicolo; non voglio tornare (This is ridiculous; I don't want to go back)." Lifting her head from the cool pane, Cristina glanced one last time at the rippling fjord. The lure of escape like a whisper in her ear from il Diavolo himself.

The letters had gotten her through a tough time. The contact had been completely unexpected, but entirely welcome. She often wondered if anyone knew – if anyone ever suspected Fabia of risking her job and life to stash and receive illicit love letters on the trading boats coming in and out of their harbour.

Fabia was her only real friend; she had proved it on many occasions.

Running those letters back and forth whilst maintaining secrecy had only been a small part of it; Fabia was there for her every time Maria got to be too much to handle, every time her father was too stupid to notice, every time one of her sisters made a sly comment, every time she was on the verge of beating some handsy prince into an early grave.

Fabia was always there.

And she was still here. Beside her, even so far from home. And though it had taken three days, Cristina finally came to realise that she had lost all the things that made her life miserable and kept the one thing that strived to make her life joyful.

She was the sister she never hated.

So, if she could successfully navigate this new kingdom and its queen, things might not be as bad as she had first thought.


"Things are going well. I think…" Anna mused.

Kristoff raised a brow; well aware of Anna's optimistic nature, he knew to take her observations with a pinch of salt.

"So, everything is still really awkward?" he concluded.

"…yeah," Anna replied, deflated.

"I expected as much." He wrapped an arm around her as they sat huddled on the grass verge, observing the rippling fjord.

Anna's head was on his shoulder and, as bad as he felt for the foreign princess, he wouldn't have given this up for the world. Nothing could convince him otherwise and no one could give him anything better than this – not even fame or fortune could replace the joy that being part of Anna and Elsa's family brought him

"Elsa's struggling to get on her good side," Anna said, breath fogging before them.

"I know it's hard," he squeezed her shoulders, pulling her into his chest and placing a cold kiss upon her crown, "but we deserve to be together. Just remember how hard we tried to get back to each other – you died, Anna! And I'm not about to let anything get in the way of us being together."

"I would do anything for you," he said into copper locks.

"I love you," Anna cooed into his chest.

Each time just as heart-warming as the first, those words made Kristoff's chest flutter.

"I love you too. And I promise, nothing is ever going to come between us again."


She's right. You need to make her feel like more than just a womb, Elsa thought.

But that would have to wait until later; she was on her way to the library to research available French trading routes. Soon-to-be Queen Charlotte of DuBois had proposed trade expansion and an increase in the goods passed between their kingdoms and, whilst Elsa saw no reason to decline, she still would prefer to read up on the additional trading opportunities that the French kingdom had to offer Arendelle. They already traded a great many useful things with the French kingdom, but if the increased trading proposal was not of benefit then there seemed to be no point.

Pushing the large door to the library open, she slipped silently into the old shelves she called friends.

Elsa was used to traversing these shelves in silence. She found the lack of company made it easier to concentrate.

Rounding the corner of one of the many large bookcases, she met questioning copper irises.

"Is the prisoner not allowed to leave her cell?"

She could only stare for a second, lips parted.

"No, no! It's fine – you're fine... do as you wish; this is your home now too."

Cristina rolled her eyes.

Home! Hah.

"If that's what you want to call it…" she mumbled, turning back to the shelf she had been perusing.

Elsa's thoughts had slipped away from her in that moment of shock, and now she couldn't recall – not for the life of her – what she had come in here for...

Instead, she tried to make conversation.

"Have you had the chance to explore Arendelle yet?"

Cristina didn't bother meeting her eye, instead choosing to continue to observe the tomes on the shelves.

"I wasn't aware I was allowed to leave, if I'm being entirely honest with you," she replied.

"Arendelle is as much your home as it is mine; you're free to go wherever you please…"

"As far away from you as possible is most preferable."

Elsa took a breath. Don't rise to it, she told herself. You know she's upset. Don't retaliate; it just makes you look worse…

"I know this isn't the most ideal –"

"- Ideal? No, I'll tell you what isn't ideal," Cristina spun to face her with deep-set vexation flickering in her eyes.

"It's putting on weight after you've been fitted for a dress, it's breaking a heel in the middle of the dancefloor, it's telling your father that you're gay, ten minutes before the start of your sixteenth birthday celebration where hundreds of princes are lined up in hopes of engaging you," she growled and Elsa felt her cheeks turning pink at the princess's vigour and proximity.

"but this... is just a joke."

Elsa's mouth formed an 'o' and she could do nothing but stare for a second. And she could think of nothing intelligent to reply. So, when words tumbled from her lips, she immediately cursed herself.

"Sixteen?" What the Hell are you doing; what's wrong with you?

The princess's expression said it all – cocked brow and incredulous eyes, lips upturned in a mocking smirk. She scoffed and shook her head.

"Well, some people aren't ashamed of what they are, and don't feel the need to hide it away from the world."

Elsa's heart skipped a beat, her insides knotting themselves.

She's talking about the magic; surely, she-

"I haven't got anything to be ashamed of. You, on the other hand, I'm not so sure..." Cristina quipped before brushing past her with a satisfied smirk on her lips. Her words were spoken like sugar, delivering deeply rooted bitterness oh so sweetly.

Elsa could only continue to stare at the space Cristina had occupied only moments ago.

Wow...


Well, that was a complete disaster. What a complete and utter waste of time!

He hung his head, disgusted and disappointed at how horribly wrong it had all gone.

Some of his best fighters were locked up in the dungeons; he would have to be cunning to get them out.

The witch still suspected nothing though, so it wasn't all doom and gloom; at least he still had his head on his shoulders.

But he would have to devise an escape; his plan could not come to fruition without them.

The queen would die and Arendelle would have a real ruler of pure blood, untainted by such filth as her unholy magic. He could only hope that the introduction of this harlot princess would spur his rebels onward in their efforts.

His rebels would be victorious. The people of Arendelle would surely conquer their malign queen, and he would see to it that his vision became reality and that she would be erased from Arendelle's history.

"I don't know what I'm supposed to do," Elsa mumbled. Steely ice-blue eyes stared back. Oh so familiar they were, often her only company over the years.

"Gerda said you need to make her feel welcome."

"But how?"

"Buy her gifts?"

"That's ridiculous; that'll only make it seem as though I'm trying to buy her affections…"

"God, I don't even know how to talk to her without sounding like an idiot."

" – More so than you do already?" Came a voice from over her shoulder.

Elsa spun round to meet Anna's amused eyes. "Anna, I didn't see you there…"

"Clearly, it seems you were too busy engaging in a heated debate with your reflection…"

Elsa glanced back bashfully at the mirror on her vanity.

"Just thinking out loud…"

"You're still struggling with Cristina?" Anna asked.

"I don't know what to do. I need to make her feel like she belongs here, but I don't know how..."

"Why don't you throw her a ball?"

"An entire celebration, just for her?"

Anna tutted and shook her head in mock disappointment at Elsa's incredulous expression. "Women like to be made a fuss of, Elsa."

"We can't afford to host a ball for no reason…" she argued.

"No reason? Honestly, Elsa, where's the romance? You need to sell this if you're gonna convince her that she belongs here," Anna protested, keen for Elsa to realise that if Cristina saw how welcoming Arendelle was, then she would begin to warm up to the place.

"I'm not trying to make her fall in love with me. I just want her to feel at home in Arendelle."

"It could be a 'Welcome to Arendelle' ball…" Anna replied, emphasising her excitement by waggling her fingers, her own eagerness shining in her teal eyes; if anyone could find a reason to throw a ball, it was Anna.

Elsa just cocked a brow and shook her head.

"Alright well, we need to work something out otherwise she's gonna hate us forever," Anna said.

"Can you blame her?" Elsa asked, raising a brow in question. Anna gave an uncomfortable smile and scuffed her shoe against the floor, casting her eyes down.

"We could find out what she likes…"

"And how would we do that?"

"Talk to her…?" Anna asked, shrugging as though it were the most obvious thing in the world.

"If only it were so easy," Elsa scoffed.

"Well, have you tried?" The princess asked, tone suggesting Cristina was the most easy going person in the world.

Elsa raised a hand to her chest, offended by Anna's assumption that she hadn't made any effort.

"Of course, I have. She has every reason to despise me; she's not even allowed to go home. But I have no idea how I'm supposed to make her feel at home if she doesn't want to be here," she added, glancing up at Anna questioningly.

"Show her around Arendelle… or teach her to skate – do they have snow in Venetia? Maybe take her up the north mountain and show her the ice castle; I bet she'd find that pretty cool…" Anna replied with a shrug.

Elsa shook her head, worrying her lip with her teeth. This was one of many conversations she had had with Anna since Cristina's arrival concerning the foreign princess's well-being.

"As much as I would like to seize the opportunity to get to know her better, apart from the fact that she and I can't seem to hold a conversation, I'm afraid that I just don't have time."


"What do you mean: 'I don't have time'? Let me on that boat right now," Fabia growled, glaring at the lad before her.

"Miss, I can't; this boat has come straight from –"

"– I know where it's from." Fabia said. "Now let me on board," she added sharply.

"Queen Elsa has given you explicit permission to board this boat, I'm presume?" Came the voice of another man to her right. He was tall - six foot at least - and his blond hair made him appear far more innocent than he sounded

"She has. I can go and get her if you would like… She's in a very important meeting, but I'm sure the interruption would be very much appreciated…" Fabia replied, cocking a brow at the tall sailor, evidently the captain of the vessel.

He looked her over and recognised her clothing as that of the handmaidens that worked in the castle.

The men glanced at each other for a second, fearful words conveyed in one look. They would absolutely not like to get on the wrong side of the queen.

The captain stared back at her, observing her for a moment with hard eyes in an attempt at dissuading her. However, it was evident that Fabia would not be leaving without boarding that boat.

"With the queen's permission, I suppose I could allow you to board…" he mumbled, his pride seemingly dented at the idea of having to allow her to board after he had attempted to intimidate her.

Briskly sliding passed him and onto the deck of the boat, Fabia set to completing her objective.

There was always a distinct wooden crate with unique scratchings on the side, seemingly innocent to any passers-by, but to someone who knew what they were looking for (as she did), it was fairly easy to spot.

Wedged between the crate and its neighbour, was always an envelope with a red wax seal.

Only this time... there wasn't.

With a frown, Fabia reached further behind the crate in search for the letter. No such luck.

What? Why isn't it here?!The princess will be so upset...


"What do you mean, it's missing?" Cristina asked, expression incredulous. "She promised me it would be here – are you sure you checked everywhere?" She added, voice pitching higher as her throat constricted at the thought of being abandoned by even her true love.

"Everywhere it could be. I'm sorry; I can't find it anywhere," Fabia replied. She knew Cristina relied on those letters; they were the only contact she had had with her for years... "I-I'm sorry. I'll look again."

"No, Fabia. Don't worry; if it's not there then she obviously didn't send it," Cristina sighed.

Eyes downcast, she turned to leave her friend, but Fabia caught her wrist.

"I'm sure she did. Maybe it just got lost..."

Cristina shrugged with sadness in her eyes and pulled her wrist from Fabia's grasp. "Or maybe, she's finally realised that it's hopeless." She shook her head, turned from her handmaiden and continued on her way down the hall.

She supposed that, if her lover wasn't on her way to rescue her, she might as well play nice with her host. The Ice Witch seemed to be the only place she may be able to get some attention in this castle. And she seemed a pretty enough distraction to sink her teeth into.


Elsa stared at the letter in disbelief, cursive black ink written in the finest hand beckoned her to read on. Eyes flitting voraciously over the words, she drew a sharp breath. Such filth was scrawled across the page in her hands. Elsa felt tainted for having read it, disgusted for enjoying it. Oh, how the words made her stomach flit.

As she continued, filthy thoughts crowding her mind, she took her lip between her teeth, painfully aware of the fluttering between her thighs. The letter spoke of slick folds and hardened buds, gentle fingers caressing supple breasts and a sharp bite at her neck-

"- What on earth do you think you are doing?!" Elsa's eyes went wide as she attempted to hide the filth in her hands – too late!

Cristina glared at her with seething copper orbs, anger and indignation apparent. All thoughts of seduction disappeared from her mind as she stared at the parchment in the queen's hand.

"I was – It was on my desk…" Elsa explained.

"On your desk?"

"Yes, I-I have no idea how it got there…" Cristina's frown deepened, only serving to make Elsa feel more disturbed at having been caught read such a thing.

"Of course, you don't… Don't you know it's rude to read other people's letters?" Cristina growled, snatching the parchment from between the queen's fingers.

"That's for you?" Elsa asked incredulously.

Cristina raised a brow, smirking at the queen's shock.

"Well, it's not for you, is it, darling?" She could have chuckled at the blush that burned alabaster cheeks.

"I di-"

"- Who would ever write you such a letter?" Cristina teased, advancing on Elsa with venom in her eyes and ire on her tongue until their proximity was almost stifling, the queen backed up to the edge of her desk.

Cristina thought for a moment that she caught Elsa's eyes flicker to her mouth.

"Wouldn't you love someone to write you something like that? Wouldn't you love someone to touch you like that? Wouldn't you love it if someone were to do those things to you, caress your thighs and kiss your neck," leaning closer, Cristina was sure she saw it as Elsa's eyes flitted from her eyes to her lips and back again – arousal, raw and desperate, Elsa's desire to be touched shone in her eyes like telling stars. And she was going to have a Hell of a time teasing her for it.

"No one is ever going to want to touch you like that, Elsa. I'll only do it when I have to, so enjoy it while it lasts…"

The distance between them was almost non-existent, Cristina continuing to glare into cerulean irises as the queen stared back speechlessly.

She could see the inner workings of the queen's mind. Desire, fear and scolding so evident in her blown pupils – scolding herself for such thoughts, so scared of admitting them. But Cristina knew those eyes; she had seen them in her own reflection many years ago.

Now, of course, she couldn't give a damn what anyone thought. Though it seemed Elsa wasn't quite as indifferent to the opinions of others.

"As much as I'd like to tell you that you shouldn't be ashamed of the things you want, I just can't bring myself to comfort the witch that shackled me to her bedpost."

The flush of alabaster cheeks brought a poisonous chuckle to her lips, and as she was about to continue her onslaught of insults, a knock sounded at the door.

Both heads snapped to the door with the knock, and Cristina slithered over to meet the person on the other side with a pleased smirk.

"Good afternoon, your highness. I didn't expect to find you here..."

"I was just leaving actually, Kai; I have nothing left to say to Elsa," she replied sourly, casting a filthy look over her shoulder.

The man almost seemed to fumble between defending the queen and politely replying. Meeting Elsa's eye he attempted to express some semblance of sympathy. Deciding it was best to brush off the princess's brash tongue, he continued to address the queen on the matter at hand.

"Your Majesty, the ambassadors have arrived from Weselton."

Elsa frowned, confusion evident in her knitted brows. "They're not supposed to be arriving until next week," she replied.

"So I thought, ma'am, but they… seem to have arrived early," Kai said, and weary of the Weseltonians clearly unexpected arrival, he added: "Would you like me to inform them that you will meet with them later?"

"No, no. It's fine, I will… be there momentarily," she said, wondering if Weselton could have sent his ambassadors at a more inconvenient time.

"You know, I bet that Weselton sent them early to spite you – sneaky bastard," Cristina said, interrupting Elsa's train of thought. "But I can't wait to see the ugly brutes he's picked for the occasion."

That was Elsa's thought exactly; Weselton probably just wanted to cause as much trouble as possible, sending his men unannounced. "It wouldn't surprise me, but you needn't attend if you would rather-"

"-Oh, bless you, I wasn't asking," Cristina interrupted, chuckling darkly, "I'm coming."


A/N: So, hopefully Cristina's character starts to develop a little bit more in the next couple of chapters as well as her and Elsa's 'relationship'. We'll see a bit more from Anna and Kristoff and potentially pop in on Olaf in the next chapter. Thanks for reading. Fave, follow and review if you liked it!

As for why I haven't updated in a while, uni has been really busy just recently with handing in my last couple of assignments and revising for exams. And if that wasn't enough to distract me from my writing, a fellow author has managed to capture my heart and I find myself wanting to spend all my free time talking to her or being with her. I blame her for everything. You should too.

- Fly :P