WARNING: The first part of this chapter contains sex. This story is rated M. FYI. Thanks.

The castle was quiet as the sun rose, casting beams of golden light through the large windows in the room. It was different than the castle in Arendelle because Anna's room had faced the west, so she never saw the first light unless she got out of bed and went into the hallway. Even so, the sun in Corona seemed to shine brighter than it had back home. It was wonderful. Still, Anna felt a slight pang in her chest at the thought of home. It had really only been a week and a half since they'd been there, but that was still a week and a half that she'd gone without seeing her sister. Anna would never say it aloud, but she worried sometimes, leaving Elsa alone after everything she'd been through. Elsa had always bottled everything inside, but if something happened and Anna wasn't there to reassure her…

Elsa would be fine, Anna scolded herself. If anything, her sister was the stronger of the two, but the problem was, Elsa was all she had left. Mama and Papa were long gone now. She had her Aunt and Uncle and her cousin, of course, but it wasn't the same. After her parents' funeral, she had once considered going to Thornbury, where her mother had grown up, but the thought of leaving Elsa, even despite the fact that Elsa wouldn't speak to her, was too painful. She couldn't abandon her only family.

Wiping the sleep out of her eyes, she was surprised to see Kristoff still wrapped around her, asleep with his shaggy blond hair beneath her chin; cheek against her collarbone. Usually, he was up before sunrise thanks to a lifetime of harvesting ice. Even in sleep, he seemed tense with his brow furrowed and jaw clenched. He clung to her tightly, as if he were afraid she was going to float away at any given moment.

Anna felt a rush of love for him, bringing her fingers to the coarse thick, blond strands on his head, brushing it away from his face and following the curve of his unshaven jawline with the backs of her fingers. Kristoff stirred, groaning and tightening his arm around her waist, making her laugh.

"Hey, I kind of need to breathe," she giggled, squirming beneath him. Expressive amber eyes met hers, focusing as he woke. She pressed a delicate kiss to the bridge of his nose. "Hi."

"What time is it?" He asked groggily.

Anna shrugged, yawning. "Early. The sky's awake." Kristoff smiled at this, disentangling from her and moving up to press a kiss to her lips. "I have morning breath," she warned, making him roll his eyes.

"The horror," he grinned, kissing her again, this time deepening the kiss by parting her lips gently with the tip of his tongue. Anna felt the familiar rush of heat kindling in her belly at the silky touch, letting out a long sigh of contentment as she twined her hands up around his neck, enjoying the feel of broad shoulders beneath her palms. He rose over her body and she opened to him, letting him settle his hips between her lips. She could feel his growing arousal, already apparent through the layers of their clothing. Then again, with Kristoff, there was no hiding it. There was nothing petite or small about him.

He pulled away from her lips, trailing lazy, wet kisses along her jaw, before catching her earlobe lightly between his teeth, making her gasp. She could feel the soft scratch of his bristle rub becomingly over the sensitive skin of her throat. One large hand moved over the soft cotton of her nightdress, following the generous curve of her hip down to her thigh, grabbing the hem and dragging it upward, revealing the flat plane of her abdomen. Kristoff rose, efficiently pulling the nightgown off of her and tossing it unceremoniously across the room. His nostrils flared slightly when he took in her bare body, as if it were the first time he'd ever seen her. Anna was ashamed to admit, since she'd met Kristoff, she hadn't felt the slightest bit of modesty or shame when it came to him. She knew it was improper for a young lady (especially a princess) to be so wanton, but the truth was, Anna loved the way Kristoff looked at her. She loved the way he seemed to worship her. She didn't feel ashamed; she felt loved.

Thankfully, she'd worn no undergarments to bed, so once Kristoff had removed his drawers, there was nothing left to hinder them. He lifted her hips slightly, pressing velvety soft lips to the hollow of her navel, flicking his tongue there, causing Anna to squeak, arching toward him. A low chuckle rumbled in his throat.

"Do you want to know which freckles are my favorites?" He asked, chocolate eyes glinting wickedly in the morning light. Anna tried to speak, but one of his fingers had slipped ever so carefully inside of her, crooking in such a way it made the sound die in her throat, replaced by a quiet mewl. "Well, I'm going to tell you anyway," he went on, dragging his lips upward, bracing himself over her as her hands settled on his muscular forearms. Dipping his head, Kristoff lovingly brushed the curve of her breast, nuzzling against the pale skin there. "At first I thought it was here," he explained in a husky voice, "The night of your birthday, a few months after we met and we…" He gave her a crooked grin. "Well, when you pounced on me."

"Well, I was waiting all night to get a moment alone with you. And then, that stupid cow daughter of that foreign Count's wouldn't leave you alone and she had it all, you know, on display…" Anna seethed at the memory of the attractive, exotic looking woman hanging all over Kristoff while she'd been stuck talking about needlepoint, of all things.

"Don't remind me," he shuddered, turning his attention to the sensitive peak of her breast, wetting it with his tongue and then blowing on it, covering her skin in gooseflesh. "And you were so mad at me over nothing…"

"Well you did look at them," Anna reminded him with a pout.

"Anna," he chuckled, "I couldn't not look at them. They were in my face. But we had our first real argument that night, which led to our first time making up with each other, which led to—" His cheeks flushed at the memory, eyes dilating.

"You proved to me that you liked mine better," she laughed breathily, arching up into the warmth of his hand.

Kristoff nodded in agreement. "That's when I found this little cluster of freckles," he continued, brushing his thumb over the light design on the bottom of her breast before kissing the spot tenderly. Anna twined her fingers in his thick hair, closing her eyes at the sensation. "And I thought it was my favorite for a long time. Until our wedding night." He moved back down her body, letting his lips ghost over the smooth skin until he was lying on his stomach at the apex of her thighs. "When I found these," he kept his eyes on hers as he covered the group of golden freckles on her inner thigh with his mouth. "These are definitely my favorite." Before she could respond, he'd begun to lavish his attention on the sensitive folds of her most intimate place.

Of course, Anna had always been curious as an avid reader. She'd once come upon the maids talking about some sensation novel, that was supposed to be quite scandalous. She'd finally coerced one of them to let her borrow the book and had faked an illness, retreating to the comfort of her rooms, engrossed in the salacious story about a young woman who had been carried off on her wedding day by a man who was in love with her and was deliciously ruined. She'd wanted to feel guilty, but that had been when Elsa was still hiding behind her closed door.

The reality was much better. Kristoff, while reserved and somewhat surly under normal circumstances was surprisingly adventurous in bed, and all too eager to bring her to a trembling climax under his careful ministrations. It was more than she could have imagined. She opened her eyes, staring through her eyelashes down at his blond head. Strong arms cupped her bottom with her legs thrown over both of his shoulders as his tongue brushed deliciously over the ripened bud of her sex. Sounds seemed to pour out of her involuntarily as she clutched at the wonderfully thick hair on her husband's head.

Her release came like an avalanche, starting small and building so fiercely that she forgot to breathe for a moment, her eyes closing as her mouth fell open in a silent scream. He waited for her tremors to subside before he moved back up her body, kissing the patches of flushed skin that had risen across the pale skin. Kristoff captured her lips in a long, searing kiss, their tongues caught in a passionate dance that took Anna's breath away.

"Now," she whispered against his lips, making him chuckle despite his extreme arousal.

"Shh," he told her, kissing her nose. "Turn onto your side." She stared at him, confused for a moment. "Just, trust me," he told her, gently urging her to lie on her side, facing away from him.

"Um, isn't this kind of the opposite of what we – oh!" Anna lost her breath as he lifted her leg and entered her from behind in one fell swoop, settling her leg over his hip. It was the most fortuitous angle, enabling him to thrust deeper, awakening feelings she'd never dreamed possible. One muscular arm held her tightly against the warmth of his chest while the other hand slid between her legs, once again igniting a flame in her sated flesh and bringing her to pleading sobs with the deep, steady rhythm he'd set.

Anna came first, covering his hand with hers and digging her nails into the skin on the top of his hand. His arms tightened around her as he drove into her one final time, letting out a quiet growl of satisfaction, resting his forehead against the nape of her neck and gasping. They remained like that, both catching their breath together. Kristoff carefully withdrew, turning her over and pulling her against his side while a heady lethargy settled over her.

"I never knew it could be done that way…" She admitted sheepishly, glancing up into his sleepy face.

"It can pretty much be done any way you can think of as long as you make the parts line up," he laughed, brushing her hair out of her eyes. "Love you, Fiestypants."

"Love you, Christopher," she giggled, ruffling his hair.

"It's Kristoff," he returned contentedly, watching her through heavy lidded eyes. "What were you, raised in a barn?"

"No, a castle actually…" she murmured, snuggling closer and wrapping one arm around his waist. "I should tell you about my husband sometime."

"What's his last name?" Kristoff asked, smirking.

"Bjorgman…"

"Favorite food?"

"Carrots!"

"Best friends name?" He opened one eye, putting one arm beneath his head and settling the other on her hip.

Anna hitched her leg over his. "Sven."

"Eye color?"

She reached up, caressing his unshaven cheek with the back of her hand. "Chocolate. My favorite."

His eyes darkened as he caught her wrist, bringing the palm to his lips. Lowering his voice, he added, "Foot size?"

"Huge," she whispered, stifling a giggle as he flipped her beneath him suddenly making her shriek gleefully. He'd just begun to lower his lips to hers again when there was a quiet knock at the door. Kristoff cursed under his breath while she attempted to swallow her laughter. "Who is it?!" She called, wriggling out from under him. He flopped onto his stomach, burying his face in the pillow in exasperation as she pulled her dressing gown over her bare body, closing the bed curtains to shield her naked husband from view.

It was Mrs. Boatwright.

"My lady, I apologize for the early intrusion…"

"Oh, not at all, we were just…" Anna thought of what they were just doing and felt her face burn, "waking up," she finished, smiling at the kindly housekeeper.

"The Queen bid me to tell you that she would like you to take luncheon with her and Princess Rapunzel on the terrace at noon. The King will be preoccupied all morning, so she was hoping that Prince Kristoff might enjoy spending time with Prince Eugene." Anna could hear the faint groan behind the bed curtains, though it was too quiet for Mrs. Boatwright to hear, thankfully.

"We would love that," Anna agreed amiably. "Thank you so much."

"I also took the liberty of having a tray made for you and the Prince," the woman told her, producing a large silver tray containing a large array of food. Anna's stomach growled audibly at the sight and smell of it. After their early morning activities, she was feeling ravenous. Mrs. Boatwright set the tray on the small table near the hearth before curtseying and leaving the room, though Anna couldn't help noticing her eyes fall to the discarded nightgown and Kristoff's drawers on the ground near the bed before she was gone. Of course, they had nothing to be ashamed of. They were husband and wife; newlyweds. It was expected; encouraged even.

When the door was closed, the bed curtains opened, revealing a very sullen looking Kristoff, which made Anna giggle. "Stop pouting and come eat," she told him, starting toward the table and shrieking when she was grabbed and unceremoniously tossed over one broad shoulder. "It's going to get cold…" she said lamely when he laid her back down on her back and began to open the buttons of her dressing gown.

"Give me five minutes," he told her in a deeper voice than usual, settling against her again and causing her eyes to widen.

Food? What food?

"Apologies, my lady," Gerda appeared in the doorway of the parlor Elsa was sitting in, reviewing plans for the Flower Ball in just over a week. Her hair was hanging over her shoulder in a loose braid and her feet were tucked beneath her skirt.

"No apologies necessary, Gerda," Elsa smiled at the woman, setting her parchment aside and sitting up. "Is there a problem?"

"Not at all, Your Majesty," Gerda explained. "I was just wondering what was to be done about Prince Hans regarding the Flower Ball," she continued, looking somewhat uncomfortable. "Shall I make arrangements for him to have a proper outfit?"

Elsa hadn't thought of that. The kingdom, after all, wasn't exactly aware of what had transpired between Hans and the royal sisters. All they knew was that the heroic Hans had returned to the Southern Isles after the thaw. The only people who knew the truth were the foreign diplomats, the castle staff and the royal family. It would do them no good to keep Hans locked away.

"Yes," she finally answered, returning to the guest list she had been poring over. "Have him fitted for new attire." Gerda nodded, starting toward the door again, before pausing and looking back over her shoulder. "Is he behaving well?"

"Oh, he's been nothing but gracious, Your Majesty," Gerda chuckled. "He did request some parchment and charcoal pencils, but aside from that, he's been fairly quiet. Thankfully."

"Very good," Elsa nodded, biting her lip distractedly.

"My lady…"

"Gerda?"

"Your ballgown should be ready for a fitting tomorrow. What time would be best?" Gerda looked like she'd wanted to say more, but had held back.

"First thing in the morning will be fine. Thank you," she added, blinking down at the list of names. With a sigh, she set the parchment aside as stood, straightening her skirt. The castle was so terribly quiet without Anna's constant chatter. It was starting to set her teeth on edge. She wandered through the empty hall hugging her arms around herself. Soon, these halls would be full of people once more and the ballroom would be filled with music and laughter, and Elsa would be standing at the head of it, watching as she had before. The memory of her coronation ball brought with it a shudder of foreboding as that night hadn't exactly ended well. Of course, there wouldn't be any Duke of Weselton to fling accusations at her. One thing would be the same, however.

Hans.

Elsa remembered the first time she'd seen him, sitting in the audience at her coronation, green eyes fixated on her. It had unnerved her, because he was staring at her as if he could see into her mind. It hadn't helped with the awful uncertainty she'd already been feeling; worrying over whether she was going to freeze the chapel and reveal herself. She remembered standing in the ballroom and noticing the tall young prince watching her in fascination from the crowd and feeling the strangest flutter in the pit of her stomach. Of course, that was only moments before her sister had presented him to her as her fiancé. Elsa closed her eyes at the thought, remembering the utter panic she'd felt. Every instinct she'd ever had told her that something was not right. Though it was not unheard of for Princes and Princesses to marry and unite kingdoms, it still seemed odd that Prince Hans had been so keen to marry Anna immediately.

Her Aunt Primrose had been engaged to Uncle Thomas from the time that she'd been a very small girl. He was twelve years older than she was, and the match had been arranged to ally Corona with Thornbury. But her parents had been a love match; they had met at her aunt's wedding when her mother had been just a girl of fifteen. Her father had been engaged to someone else, but he always said that the first time he'd laid eyes on her mother, it was like seeing his entire life unfold before his eyes. He'd called off his engagement and had visited her mother for three summers until she was old enough to wed and he'd proposed to her. They were married in Thornbury before he'd brought her home to Arendelle.

It had been one of her favorite bedtime stories growing up.

"That's how you know when you meet the right person…you look at them and you can't imagine living the rest of your life without them."

"Do you think I will, Papa?"

"I know so, Snowflake. I know so."

How she missed him. How she wished she could have just one more moment with him to tell him just how much. Both of them. She would have given anything just to hear her father's chuckle or her mother's singing voice as they tucked her in every night. Despite the fear over their oldest child's remarkable ability, her parents had truly loved her and had made sure that she'd known. Since their death, Elsa still had yet to visit their gravesite. It was cowardly, she knew, but she'd reasoned with herself that since there were no bodies to be buried, it wasn't the same anyway. It was a terrible excuse and she felt ashamed of herself for it.

"Elsa! Hey, Elsa!" Olaf's voice brought her back to the present. She quickly brushed the corners of her eyes with the back of her index finger, turning toward the snowman she'd created and putting a smile on her face.

"Olaf!" She exclaimed, grinning. "What trouble are you getting into now?" Clutched in his small wooden hand was a piece of parchment.

"I found this in the South parlor!" He told her. His voice lowered conspiratorially. "I've been keeping an eye on Hans…you know, making sure he stays in line—"

Elsa laughed, despite herself. "Olaf, it's okay…you don't have to—"

"No. I promised Anna I would take care of you while they were gone, and I know you're not worried about him, but you're clearly not as worldly as I am," he insisted. It took all of her effort not to giggle. She'd play along.

"Oh, clearly," she nodded.

The snowman went on. "When Hans left, this," He brandished the parchment, "fell off of the desk he was sitting at. So, I picked it up." Frowning, Elsa took the paper from him and gasped audibly, nearly dropping it. "I didn't know Hans could draw," Olaf was saying, "It looks just like you! Only…" his voice dropped to a whisper. "I think he forgot to draw your clothes on you…"

"I…see that," she choked out, hoping she didn't look as mortified as she felt. "Olaf," she cleared her throat, attempting dignity and probably failing as she put the parchment behind her back. "You don't need to spy on Hans. It's so sweet of you to want to protect me, of course, but I promise if I notice any suspicious behavior, I will let you know. And Captain Gabriel has the matter well in hand."

"I think he likes you," Olaf told her. "He watches you all the time when you're around him."

"Lucky me," Elsa muttered dryly. "Listen Olaf, there are some fresh carrots in the pantry. Can you take a few of them to Sven in the stables? I think he's missing Kristoff and Anna and he could probably use some company."

"Oh, right…of course," Olaf nodded enthusiastically. "My poor little smooshy face has been moping since his Mommy and Daddy left."

"Er, yes…" Elsa nodded, biting her cheek to keep from laughing. "I'll be out to see him later today." As the snowman was walking away, Elsa shook her head, thinking to herself that she ought to create a companion for Olaf to keep him company. Snowmen that didn't need food or sleep apparently tended to have an excessive amount of energy. When he was gone, Elsa sagged against the wall, pulling out the drawing once more and turning it over. It really was remarkably done; Hans had a talent which was slightly unnerving. She was posed, lying on her side against a bed of pillows, giving a beckoning stare. Around her neck was a long strand of pearls that were settled along the curve of her extremely bare breasts and atop her head was a tiara with a design that resembled snowflakes. Elsa might have thought it was beautiful if she wasn't so utterly horrified and worse, flattered.

"My lady, is everything all right?" The Captain's concerned voice came from nearby and Elsa quickly hid the drawing behind her back, wondering briefly how red her face was at present.

"Oh, fine…" She lied, adapting a casual look, "Just a bit overwhelmed from preparations for the Flower Ball next week." Glancing around, she swallowed. "Where, pray-tell, is Prince Hans?"

"He is with Kai at present, Your Majesty," the Captain informed her. "Being measured."

"I see," Elsa answered, "Tell me, Gabriel, will you attend the Flower Ball?"

"Of course, my lady, I shall be there to protect you," he replied, looking bemused. Elsa sighed.

"Gabriel, you must take some time off soon," she insisted. "I fear you're working too hard. You're young and handsome. You should find someone and settle down. Don't waste your life in this castle. Believe me, I speak from experience."

"Queen Elsa, with all due respect, I am here because I want to be. It is my honor and my privilege to serve you and Arendelle," he told her. "My father was never more proud of me as he was the day I was sworn into the Royal Guard under the wonderful Captain Albert."

Elsa stared at the Captain, taking in his height, his broad shoulders, sandy brown hair and bright blue eyes. He was exactly the sort of man she should marry. He would be a good husband to any woman. He would be a marvelous, gentle father who governed his family with a patient hand and more than enough love to spare. He reminded her of her father. There was just one problem; she didn't see it with him. Squinting her eyes, she tried to imagine this soft spoken, honorable man standing beside her; tried to envision walking toward him down the aisle in the cathedral and she just couldn't see it. She wanted to, but it just wasn't to be.

"Your service is both appreciated and necessary," Elsa amended, patting the Captain's arm. "Just please, don't put your life on hold. You deserve happiness." Gabriel said nothing in response, but there was a slight sadness in his blue eyes that she wished she could take away. The sad fact of the matter was that he wasn't her path. But, he would be someone else's and he would be a wonderful husband and father to whoever that was. The sound of footsteps turned both of their heads, revealing Kai and Hans, whose eyes were fixed on the Captain in dark disapproval. Slightly irritated by his boorish attitude toward Gabriel, she glared at him, remembering the drawing she still held behind her back.

"I shall have the ensemble sent up immediately as soon as it arrives from the tailor," Kai was telling Hans, who hardly looked like he was listening.

"I apologize, my lady," Gabriel told her, giving Hans a look of suspicion. "But I must go and speak with the guards about our plans for tomorrow."

Elsa blinked in confusion. "Tomorrow…?"

"The flower contest in the village, Your Grace," he explained gently.

"Oh!" Elsa nodded, remembering. "Of course! Yes!" The Captain bowed and took his leave, retreating quickly. She watched the back of his light brown head as he walked away and felt slightly guilty; wishing so fervently that he had been the one she was meant to end up with. She hoped upon hope that he would meet someone lovely soon. Meanwhile, she still had her own twisted fate to contend with. Namely, a flame haired nuisance that was proving to be more trouble than he was worth. "Kai," she turned to her loyal butler, "May I have a moment alone with our guest?"

"Of course, Queen Elsa," he nodded, glancing between the pair before leaving in the direction the Captain had gone.

Hans smiled down at her, unnerving her, which was absurdly annoying. "You didn't have to do this, you know." He gestured with his hands. "The new suit and the ball, I mean and—ow!" He yelped when Elsa grabbed his arm and pulled him into the library with her.

"I have a bone to pick with you, sir," she snapped, looking up into his startling green eyes and producing the drawing. His eyes fell to it, narrowing for a moment before widening guiltily.

"You…weren't supposed to see that," he told her in a quiet tone.

"I hope no one ever does," she retorted. "How dare you come into my home and conduct yourself in this manner?"

"How dare I?" He asked, taken aback. "Elsa, I realize that we have a complicated history—" She snorted at this, shaking her head. "—however, what I think in the privacy of my own rooms is my business."

"Not when you are under my roof," she hissed. "I forbid these…these…impure thoughts…"

To her surprise, his eyebrows rose and the threat of a smile quirked the corners of his lips. "You forbid it…?" An infuriating chuckle left his throat. "You're telling me how to think now?"

"You're mocking me!" She cried, balling her hand into a fist and feeling her palms turn suddenly to ice.

"Only a little," he told her, taking a step toward her. She lurched backward, away from him, dropping the drawing and barely noticing as it fluttered to the ground.

"You're very forward," she inserted lamely, backing around a table as he moved closer to her.

"No, Elsa," Hans sighed, "Forward would be me telling you how incredibly attractive you are when you're angry; the way your cheeks flush makes the blue of your eyes glow as if lit from within." He rounded the table and Elsa realized she'd hit wall. There was nowhere else to back away. "Forward would be me saying how utterly inconvenient it is to spend every waking moment hoping for a glance of you." His hand settled on the wall beside her head and he looked down into her face, casting a shadow over her. "Forward would be confessing how completely fascinated I am by the color of your eyes, which are the bluest eyes I've ever seen. Your hair isn't quite white, yet it's not gold, like most blondes. But the worst part is your mouth."

"My mouth?" Elsa glowered at him, trying to push him away, but he wouldn't budge.

"I could write an entire sonnet about your lips. They're perfectly curved and shaped, neither too thin nor too full." His head lowered so that they were eye to eye. "Forward would be me admitting that I want nothing more than to kiss you right now."

"You wouldn't dare…" Elsa responded, though it came out as little more than a hoarse whisper as her heart began to race. She could feel the heat of his breath against her lips; he was scarcely two inches away from doing exactly as he'd said. She was vaguely aware of the wall behind her slowly covering with ice. Closing her eyes, she braced herself, listening to the beat of her pulse in her ears, but moments passed with nothing happening. And then, she felt him move away suddenly, leaving her feeling oddly despondent at the loss of his warmth. She realized in defeat that she'd been secretly hoping he'd go through with it. He looked almost frightened.

"No," he finally murmured, "I wouldn't dare. Because, when I kiss you, I want you to ask me to. I want you to want me to."

"Well," she managed to say, though her heart rate was still flying. "That will never happen." Though, it didn't come out as strongly as she'd hoped. Silently, he reached forward and took her hand, which she realized was covered in ice and carefully enclosed it within his. Elsa watched in curious wonder as the ice covering the wall retreated before disappearing completely.

Hans met her eyes with a sad smile on his face. "Maybe you're right," he said, "My sincerest apologies, my lady. You have my word that I will conduct myself more appropriately." Elsa watched him swallow before leaving the room. Her eyes fell back to the drawing on the floor. Crouching, she picked it up and moved toward the fireplace, intending on tossing the indecent thing into the flames, but found herself hesitating. She couldn't bring herself to destroy it, though she wasn't sure why. Quickly, she folded the parchment and placed it safely in the pocket of her day dress, deciding to join Olaf and Sven in the stables and escape the confinement of the castle.

She needed air.

THANK YOU ALL FOR YOUR WONDERFUL REVIEWS AND FAVES. I honestly am just grateful people are reading at all. :)