XI

Lovers Not Often Lie

The strike of the midnight hour found Elsa sitting on the edge of her bed, awake and consumed in thought as she had been since Johann's tense departure. Even though the day had drained her completely, sleep wouldn't come to her in the anticipation of his prophecy, the one that might bring her beloved shadow the closest he had been in what seemed like an eternity. Although she was sure she didn't want to be seen, her face drawn by emotion, her eyes ringed with fatigue and the sweat of the day still clinging to her body, nothing could keep her from waiting for him.

Lately, it seemed like all she did was wait for him.

Her arms wrapped loosely around herself, she was staring at the door at the other side of her room, her heels drumming anxiously across the carpeted floor. From the moment Johann had mentioned the change of her guard, she had been trying to figure out the logic of it, though she could really only come to one conclusion. Yasha was being dangled in front of her in a place where she couldn't reach him, where expectation would separate them more than the door ever could. While that suspicion was bitter and infuriating, all she could think about was being near to him, even if she wasn't allowed feel his touch or the pleasure of being in his arms.

Quietly, she wondered if she would behave as she was supposed to when the time came.

After a few maddening minutes following the strike of the hour, her back straightened as she heard the change of the guard outside. It was a sound that instantly made her jump to her feet and rush to the door, pressing against it softly to listen. There was muffled speaking and the sound of footsteps leading away, followed by the sounds of a person coming to rest at the other side, with her heartbeat marking each moment to the thunderous sound in her chest.

Then there was silence.

For a few moments, she didn't move, but just pressed against the door and felt its solid construction. The hardwood felt chilling against her skin and her eyes fixated on the knob, though her hand wouldn't go near it for any number of reasons, the most potent being that she was afraid that all of her waiting was for naught and someone else was standing outside. That level of disappointment would have been devastating and nearly defeated her intent to endure, though in the end she had no choice but to follow her heart, something she had preached to Johann as being the very reason she would never give up on love.

Curling her fingers, she took a deep breath and knocked on the wood softly.

"What is it, my queen?" said a voice and she instantly recognized it for its sweet, beautiful tone. Just the sound of it sent butterflies through her. It made her heart soar and sink at the same time knowing that it was Yasha standing there, mere inches away, but separated by wood and duty.

The carrot had come into sight. Now it was only a matter of whether or not she would reach for it.

"Is it really you?" she asked, looking thoughtfully at the door, as if she could see him there, handsomely in his uniform and steadfast against anything that would try to harm her.

"Yes," he answered and her chest rose in anticipation, as if he would be the one to open the door between them. To her disappointment, he only offered her a plated oath that didn't satisfy her in the slightest. "I will stand guard tonight. Sleep well, my queen."

"You're expecting a lot of me if you think I can sleep at all with you standing right outside my door," she remarked, smiling bitterly as she ran her fingers down the lacquered wood, imagining it was a part of him.

He was quiet a moment, and his voice then became lighter. "I apologize for the inconvenience."

Elsa smiled only for a moment before her lips collapsed and she pressed her head against the door, trying desperately to listen for him, for his breath or his heartbeat. Her smile came and went, torn between happiness and sorrow, as her eyes examined every grain of wood in the door between them.

"This is the closest you've been in a long time. I'm beginning to think you forgot how to get onto my balcony," she sighed, trying to retain her playful voice but feeling it crack under the weight of her heart.

"There is not a day that passes where I do not retrace the path in my mind, though my heart never forgets the way," he responded in a way that melted her, as if he still commanded the powerful fires of their past. She was happy that he still demonstrated his poetic license, and hearing that his days passed in thoughts of her made her smile linger, though the air outside her door became heavy once more.

"But you know why I cannot come there, no matter how much I wish to see you," he added quietly.

Elsa knew why indeed, even if it seemed like a frail reason to abandon love. Despite their royal bloodlines, there was a tyrant in their lives, and she struggled to find the courage tell him of things that she knew would infuriate him, though some selfish part of her wanted him to be infuriated, if only to remind her of just how hotly his flame burned.

"Johann came here earlier. He entered my room and was insistent about his desires for my hand," she said quietly, feeling her hands over the door for some hint of his mood. There was no answer for a time, and she swore she could feel the heat seeping through the door. It made a flight of panic rise in her chest.

"Yasha?" she asked, opening her eyes and wondering if it had been a mistake in telling him.

The hallway was a kiln of Yasha's anger. Had it not been the middle of the night, anyone passing carelessly through the halls would have found him bleeding off waves of heat, his body tense and his eyes touched wildly by furious hues of orange and red. Months of keeping the FireHeart under control hadn't prepared him for the inferno that overtook him, for the idea of another man in Elsa's room pierced him with feelings of possession like he had never imagined. The only thing that kept the flames from appearing in the castle was the concerns he had for the tone in her voice and the obvious distress the ordeal caused her.

Ironically, it tempered his magic. "Tell me what happened."

While his simple request didn't betray the overbearing response she wanted, the tone and temperature allowed her to feel his passion for her, and she was satisfied with that. "He told me he loved me, and that we'd be the perfect couple," she said, remembering the suggestion with shivers and frowning as she thought of just how poorly she reflected in his eyes. "He said that we're the true future of Arendelle."

"And what was your response?" he asked, his voice strangely uncertain for an answer that should have resided in his heart without question.

The reservations in his voice made a petulant smile come over her face, as she found it silly that he could doubt her even in the slightest. Sometimes, she found the strangest things about him adorable. "I told him, in no less courteous terms, that he'd spend every night loving himself in the privacy of his own room before I'd ever consider marrying him," she explained in a sassy tone, and it brought a much needed discharge of laughter from the hallway, where she could feel the heat finally bleeding away. It was musical to hear him laugh again.

"And I told him that I had already found the one I love," she added, her face touched with a meekly glowing blush as she was finally given the chance to vent the frustrations of her heart.

Outside, Yasha got over his pale amusement and sighed despondently, mirroring all of the frustrations she had. He was happy she could still act so flippantly towards the situation, but he was too rooted in anger to share that tone, especially as he watched the seemingly empty hallway stare back at him. There were shadows at the end of the corridor, and he knew he was being observed, a guard to watch the guard. This entire farce was nothing but a way to for Johann to have a measure of revenge against him, for the way he had succeeded at her heart, even as the man was still making his overtures despite the warnings he had been given. It was unheard of for a captain to stand watch all night, even at the queen's chambers, but Johann knew it would be torture to stand there, so close to her, yet unable to do anything but his duty.

A guard's duty was never to be in love with the queen.

"But that did not deter him," he finally said.

Elsa sighed, shaking her head against the solid door. "No," she answered, "It didn't."

"I was far too lenient with him," he growled quietly, remembering his warning to Johann about trying to bully her into loving him, yet bitterly finding he no longer lacked the freedom to make good on it. Instead, he was as trapped in his prison as she was, and he could do nothing more than straighten his back and stare lifelessly at the opposite wall once more, trying to settle back into the role assigned to him and enjoy the moment for what it was worth – a fleeting affair where he would at least get to be near her. "We must continue to play this pitiful game of his. He is the baron of the Guard, and I will follow his orders. That was the oath I took when this began."

Elsa was suddenly infuriated. She had never wanted him to join the Royal Guard in the first place, though a small part of her knew he had been miserable in the castle, with no way to ever find a place in the workings of her kingdom. She found the way things worked archaic and petty, with nobles and lords all vying for favor in the court and the queen herself unable to do many things because of it. There were unbelievable amounts of convolution in the court of Arendelle, and it came as no surprise that she had never fully appreciated it until now, when her desires were pressing against the ancient foundations of the castle and her unchained heart had been trying to find its own way in the world.

"I'm the queen," she huffed, feeling the pain making her eyes hot and blurry, "I'll command him to…"

"No," he interrupted, though she had known he would do it. The simple response showed he completely understood how dangerous that thought was and how honestly he opposed it. She hated him for that. "He is waiting for you to interfere, and will seize upon any favor you show me. It is precisely the thing he hopes for."

"I don't care!" she cried as she hit the door softly with her fist and rolled her head against it, her face drawn into a painful grimace. "This is too much, Yasha. Too much."

"What good is being the queen if I can't see the one I love in my own castle?"

Yasha's hands clenched at his sides and he glared harshly at the wall, the dim light in the hallway revealing the lingering orange glow in his eyes. Hearing her in pain was almost more than he was willing to bear, and he was tempted to throw all of the games aside and convict them both in the eyes of the court. It seemed ridiculous that the two of them, wielders of ancient magic, should be bound by petty rules and petty ambitions, unable to freely experience the love they had for one another. Had they but wished it, they could have been together in a moment. They both had such power at the tips of their fingers.

No one could stop them.

He instantly shook those thoughts from his mind, as they made waves of fear wash over him. To abuse the ancient magic would be to betray the trust of her people, and he knew that she wasn't the tyrant she would become. Acting that way, even once, would freeze and shatter her heart. He couldn't bear that thought.

And secretly, he feared the path of fire. Even if it meant suffering this insufferable pain, he would never allow himself to become like his father.

"You must not," he cautioned, though his voice was strained by emotion.

She hated the fact that he told her the way it had to be, just as he always had. Once more, she wondered why they had to suffer so much after all they had been through, as if it all hadn't bought the peaceful days that everyone but them seemed to enjoy. His command made a choking sob escape her lips and she pressed her head into the door, her eyes closed and her heart reaching out for him.

"I miss you," she whispered, petting the wood softly, "It's painful to know you're so close. To hear your voice. To feel you standing there. I don't know how much longer I can take this."

"You have endured worse," he reminded her.

"I don't want to endure it anymore. I want to be together," she sighed, "Like before."

He sighed, his back touching the door as he slumped in the agony of their plight. "And I."

Silence permeated the hallway and her chambers, with only the soft breeze outside playing sad notes across the rooftops. This dirge of passion seemed to last a lifetime, clasping them both in grief. The memories of their secret nights together burned hotly in their minds, and both of them were silent in reverence for them. It had been simple and thrilling, to sneak away from prying eyes and find quiet moments together, a whimsical tale of a star-crossed king and queen. There was everything in those memories, including the betrayal of how carelessly they took them for granted.

"Yasha," she suddenly whispered, her voice like fire.

"I am here," he replied.

She bit her lip softly, no longer caring for etiquette and protocol. She could no longer resist the urge to be with him. "Won't you come in? Only for a short while," she called, her face flush and her blood boiling from anger and desire.

"Please."

His jaw tightened and his resolve wavered as well. Hearing her call him that way made every part of him want to turn, burn down the door and consume her, for all three things were well within his power and utterly rational to his starving heart. He could feel the way the wood was cooling at her touch, bowing to the effects of her powers just as he was bowing to the effects of her voice, though the chill seemed inadequate to temper the fire in him. The dim candles in the hallway thrashed about, and out into the courtyard some of the other guards were noticing the way the torches were acting wildly in their cradles. The fire in his chest raged out of control, and not even the FireHeart could conjure as much heat as she was casting inside.

He could barely stand another moment without her.

Tucking his head down, he let out a slow breath, which came out as steam as his magic touched the chill in the air. When he finally found the strength to reply, it was as much of a surprise to him as it was to her, for just when he felt his logic burn away to the passion of her request, the pragmatic desires of his heart took control of him, making sure that he didn't sacrifice their future for the moment.

"I cannot."

Elsa suddenly recoiled from the door, clenching her hands at her sides and glaring through the wood furiously. "You…you stubborn, stubborn man!" she cried, infuriated that he could still deny her. She seethed, trying to think of a thousand other terrible things to say, but the feeling of tears running down her cheeks stalled her, as well as how her breathing choked in her throat. This madness of the heart was overwhelming and she no longer had the strength to persuade him as her chambers filled with frost, and crystals of ice sparkled against the lingering moonlight in her windows. As proxy to their imperfect world, she was casting a frozen one upon her chambers, if only because she no longer had any control over her deepest heart, and the frost was slowly creeping over across the floor, running around her and threatening to seal her doors with impenetrable layers of frigid, acerbic ice.

Whirling around, she slammed her back against the door and crossed her arms harshly, staring forward as her face crumpled into a pout, making her tantrum reflect her sudden childishness and despair. "Fine then. Just stay out there," she said, whimpering as she slowly slid down the door until her arms touched her knees and she dropped her head against them.

"I hope your foot falls asleep," she hissed peevishly.

The curse was as vicious as she could manage, but she instantly felt bad about putting even the mildest of hexes on him. Getting angry was petty and shallow, for even if her head was aware of his stubbornness, her heart understood he did these things to buy their future, even if the price was steep. This separation was more than she could bear and she quietly cried into her arms, trying to keep him from hearing her as penance for the curse she cast on him. He had very good ears, and slowly leaned his head back against the door, looking up at the ornate ceiling and letting out a slow, strangled breath.

Never had he so fully regretted his decision to join the Royal Guard, and he conceded that Johann had won this battle with his careful manipulations. The path to gain pedigree in Arendelle was harder than he expected, as he felt just as frustrated as she did. The workings of the royal court took him out of his element and he started to doubt that he could succeed. Those doubts were short-lived though, as listening to her quiet sobs was a sobering reminder of why he was doing it in the first place, and why he had to succeed.

"Elsa," he called, cracking the frozen atmosphere.

Sniffling, she turned her head slightly and wiped the tears away with her hand, not really wanting to talk with him anymore but clinging to some small hope that he would dispel the pain from her chest.

"What?" she whimpered.

His lips parted for a moment, and then slowly closed. While he wanted to give her the answers to all of her questions, he found that was well outside of his power, and he could do nothing more than slump against her fastened door, his eyes closing slowly amidst the sounds of her cries, and uphold the duty he had in order to keep her safe until the morning came.

"Good night, Elsa."