Surprise! Here's Chapter 13, just a few days after Chapter 12. "What is this sorcery?" you may ask. I'll give the answer at the end of the chapter.
Disclaimer: AC belongs to Ubisoft. Frozen belongs to Disney. Yada, yada, yada, blah, blah, blah. *insert legal jargon here*
Elsa hurried to the library, too excited to contain or compose herself. She raced past multiple servants, who gave her queer glances at her attitude. She ignored their stares and continued on until she found the double doors leading to the library. Elsa stopped herself, smoothed her dress, adjusted her bosom, fixed her hair, and took a deep breath.
Elsa burst through the doors looking for Patrick. She walked around until she found him at a corner table between some shelves, deep in a book. She stared for a moment, but then thought of a most mischievous idea. She snuck around one of the bookshelves and came behind him, being as quiet as can be. She prepared herself to pounce, excited to be surprising him.
"I know you're there, Elsa," Patrick said without so much as flinching. Elsa drooped in disappointment, but her face was filled with surprise.
"How'd you know?" she asked, perplexed by his awareness.
"I'm pretty aware of my surroundings," he answered, "plus your entrance didn't go unheard. And I saw you go around the bookshelf from the corner of my eye."
"The eye on the back of your head?" she kidded. That got his attention. He turned with a smirk and a cocked eyebrow.
"Yes," he caustically replied, "I have a secret eye. It's actually on the nape of my neck, not my head." Elsa sneered at him but he merely chuckled and winked at her. She blushed and gave Patrick a sheepish smile, letting him win that verbal joust.
"What are you reading today?" she asked, coming over to his side. She grabbed the book to inquire on her friend's research. It was the Poetic Edda, a compilation of many Old Norse mythologies written as poems by Snorri Sturluson. Elsa opened the book to a page he marked.
"The story of Sigmund?"
"Yes," Patrick answered, "I'm especially interested in his sword."
"Gram?" Elsa looked at him incredulously. "But it's just a myth. There's no way a sword that can slice an anvil in two actually exists."
"You'd be surprised," Patrick retorted.
"What makes you so interested in these artifacts, anyway?" she asked. Patrick paused at the question, contemplating his answer. Why is he hesitating? Elsa asked herself. It seemed awfully strange of him to not have an immediate response.
"It's just a hobby," he finally said.
"You don't seem too excited about it though," Elsa observed. Patrick furrowed his brow at her.
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"Well, from my understanding," she began, "most people talk about their hobbies with absolute excitement whereas you're quite nonchalant about Norse mythologies and artifacts."
"It's something I'm new to," he retorted.
"I'm starting to think you're actually not here to read about dead kings and old gods, Patrick," Elsa said coquettishly. Patrick then looked at her and realized what Elsa was up to something. He regained his composure and gave Elsa an alluring look she couldn't resist.
"And what makes you think that, Elsa?"
"Just that you've been coming around quite often and have made no progress on your search," she casually answered, looking at her nails instead of him.
"I would have by now if it wheren't for you distracting me all the time," he retorted. Elsa opened her mouth and raised her eyebrows in mock offense. Patrick chuckled, flashed a bright grin and gave another one of his winks at her. "Now, I know you're busy as the Queen of Arendelle, but…" he paused.
"But what?"
"You always seem to take time out of your day to distract me from my work. Why is that so?" Elsa blushed and realized he had her figured out. She looked into his pale blue eyes and suddenly froze. He slowly stood, never breaking eye contact and closed the distance between them. She could feel his hot breath as hers began to quicken. Her heart raced in anticipation at what he was going to do next.
"Well, you…intrigue me," she softly replied.
"Do I now?" he asked as he ran his thumb on her check. Elsa shuttered at the contact and she almost gave in.
"Do I intrigue you?" she impulsively asked, her wits completely gone. Her and Patrick kept getting closer and closer, the build up torturing every fiber of being.
"Do you want to know?" he boldy asked.
"Yes," she begged in a shaky voice.
"I think it would be better if I showed you," Patrick whispered. He carressed her face and brought it towards his. But just as their lips were about to collide, the library doors crashed open.
"Elsa!" Olaf's voice sung. Patrick and Elsa sighed in frustration of their interupted moment. "Elsa?" Olaf called again. Elsa composed herself and called for the snowman.
"I'm over here, Olaf!"
"Hi Patrick!" Olaf cried as he arrived.
"Hello Olaf, how are you?" Patrick asked.
"I'm doing good," Elsa turned around and saw the happy snowman with his wide smile and personal flurry. "What do you need?" Elsa asked in as calm a manner as she could muster.
"The cooks want to know if Patrick will be staying for dinner tonight," Elsa blushed at the request. She looked over to Patrick, who merely shrugged.
"It's up to you," he said to her. Elsa thought for a moment. Would it be too forward? Would Anna be alright with that? She thought back on the conversation they had earlier. Anna seemed very excited and curious about him. She could possibly even help Elsa figure out if Patrick had feelings for her. She looked at Patrick and was caught up in his blue eyes again. She smiled softly and grabbed his hand.
"I would like nothing more," she said. "That is, if you want to."
"I'd love to stay for dinner," he replied with a smile, never taking his eyes off of Elsa's.
"Yay!" Olaf cried before running off to tell the cooks to prepare an extra meal for tonight's guest. When the slamming of the doors could be heard, Elsa quickly turned towards Patrick.
"I guess we should be going to eat then," Patrick suggested.
"Dinner won't be ready for a while, Patrick," Elsa said, placing a hand on his chest.
"Are you sure?" he asked increduosly. Elsa bit her lip and nodded in response. A devilish grin grew on Patrick's face as he wrapped his arms around her waist. Elsa gingerly put her other hand on his shoulders as he pulled her in. Elsa's breath hitched at his touch and she suddenly became lost in his arms. She looked into his eyes as they became clouded in desire. Elsa felt the distance between them slowly collaspe as both gave in to their wants.
"I'm not interrupting, am I?" someone suddenly asked. Elsa clenched her jaw this time. I can never have a moment of privacy! She turned around to find Kristoff, her sister's lover with the smuggest smirk she'd ever seen, leaning on a book shelf.
"How can I help you, Kristoff?" she asked in a steady voice.
"I think it can wait until later," he retorted, still smiling at a now utterly embarrased Elsa.
"You might as well ask her now," Patrick butted in.
"Oh, did I ruin the moment?" he sarcastically asked.
"Kristoff, you are treading on some really thin ice right now," Elsa growled. "And yes, that pun was intended," she added before he could say anything about that.
"Okay then," Kristoff paused for a moment and took a deep breath. Whatever it was he was asking was apparently important enough for him to seek her out. After a while of awkward waiting, and Kristoff shaking off nerves, Elsa became impatient.
"Spit it out, Kristoff," she finally commanded in her queenly tone.
"Sorry," he said. "I came to ask you if I can have…"
"Have what?"
"Have…your…blessing."
"Blessing? For what?" Kristoff gave her a confused look.
"For Anna."
"Why would…" she began, but trailed off in realization. Kristoff was going to ask Anna to marry him. She took in a sharp breath, then rushed over to hug the burly mountain man.
"Yes," she cheerfully answered. "A thousand times yes, Kristoff. I wouldn't want anyone else be my sister's husband." Kristoff returned the hug and thanked Elsa for her blessings. Patrick then came over to celebrate with a pat on Kristoff's back.
"So, when are you going to ask?" Kristoff's smile faltered.
"I really don't know," he distantly answered. "I haven't thought that far yet."
"Only when the time is right, Kristoff," Elsa answered with encouragement. His smile returned and he took in a deep breath of relief.
"Well then," he said. "I should get going. I have to go up to the mountains tomorrow to mine some more ice."
"You won't be around for dinner?" Elsa asked.
"I will," he answered, "I just need to prepare my things. You two can resume…whatever it was I interrupted," With that, Kristoff strode off to the door as Elsa and Patrick both began to blush. When the door closed they exchanged nervous laughter.
"Do you think we should?" Patrick finally asked.
"We should what?" Elsa asked, not understanding what Patrick was implying.
"That we should resume what he interrupted?" Elsa's heart almost flew from her chest as Patrick closed the gap between their bodies. Patrick gently cupped her face in his hands and drew her in. She closed her eyes and felt his lips gently press hers. The feeling was electrifying, sending waves of joy and pleasure she had never felt before. She deepened the kiss and Patrick followed suit. Patrick's hands found their way to Elsa's hips as she wrapped hers around his neck. When they released to breathe, Elsa opened her eyes to find Patrick staring at her in awe. She was admittedly just as shell-shocked by their kiss, but she wanted more. A thought suddenly crossed her mind.
"I've never kissed a man before," she thought out loud. Patrick's eyebrows raised in shock.
"I don't think I believe you after that," he retorted. Elsa couldn't help but burst out in laughter. "I'm serious," he added.
"What are you talking about?" she asked in between giggles.
"To be truthful," he began, "I have…been intimate with many women in my short life." He looked at her to see if Elsa would react. Although she was surprised at this revelation, she gave him a nod to continue. "But none of them have made me feel the way you do," he finished as his hand returned to her cheek. She gently grabbed it and looked deep into his eyes.
"What do you mean?" she asked.
"Never has my mind been so manic about anyone in my life. When I think of you, nothing else matters. You've become the center of my world and I can't help myself. And it's not just because of your beauty. Your unending selflessness and kindness knows no bounds. You put others before you, a trait that is little seen in today's world. I want not only your body, but your heart and soul as well, Elsa."
Elsa looked into his eyes and knew he spoke the truth. He was pouring his soul unto her and she realized her feelings for her were mutual. The kiss had finally ignited the fire inside of her and it seemed to have inspired Patrick as well. Her only response was to bring him into another kiss, this one more passionate and wanting than before. It enhanced her senses while dulling her mind. He was all that mattered to her at this moment and she couldn't get enough of the man. Their kiss deepened even more as the couple tried to get ever closer to each other. Instict took over as her hands found the buttons of Patrick's shirt. She slowly unbuttoned one and then a second and was at the third when the library doors burst open, yet again.
"Your majesty!" she heard the cracked, old voice of Gerda, the head maid, call out. Patrick and Elsa sighed in frustration again at another interrupted moment of bliss. "Elsa," Gerda tried again. Elsa made herself more presentable and went to find her head maid.
"Yes, Gerda?" Elsa politley asked when she was found.
"Dinner is ready," Gerda answered with a wide smile. Her eyes suddenly lit up. "And if I'm not mistaken, this handsome young man will be joining you," she said with a playful smirk. Elsa turned around to find Patrick properly dressed again, now blushing at Gerda's compliment.
"Yes," he answered, still looking flattered. Elsa smiled at him and took his arm with her hands.
"What will we be having tonight?" Elsa asked the old maid.
"Cornish game hens roasted with garlic and rosemary. It will be served with a wine of your choice, Your Majesty." Oh, what a night this will be she thought, debating on which vintage from her vast cellar she should choose.
"The Chianti should do just fine," she answered.
"I'll get right to it, my dear," Gerda answered with a pleasant smile. "And will you have wine as well, Mr…"
"O'Hare, but please call me Patrick," he finished. "And yes, I would love some wine with my dinner." Gerda bowed her head and went off to the wine cellar to retrieve the queen's choice. Elsa and Patrick stood together for another moment staring at each other.
"I hate to end our time to ourselves, but I think we should be off to dinner," Patrick said. Elsa rested her head on his shoulder and nodded, although she would've gladly skipped dinner to continue kissing Patrick in the library.
"And then Godfrey pushed Terry into the pigsty! But Terry tried to get him back by throwing a pile of crap at Godfrey! Godfrey ducked and it hit poor Norris right in the face!" Patrick exclaimed with a wine glass in his hand. Elsa, Anna, and Kristoff all erupted into laughter at Patrick's hilarious recounting of his time in the place he called the Homestead. Apparently, the millers would always bicker with each other and Terry would try to fight the bigger Godfrey. This tale involved a drunken argument that ended with Terry in the pigsty and eventually throwing pig feces at the poor Canadian miner's face.
Elsa was flushed from wine as she, her sister, Kristoff, and Patrick were quite liberal with it. They were already on their third bottle and finished with desert at this point. When the laughter finally died down a silence fell upon the small party. Patrick took another swill of wine. He had drank the most out of all of them, but he was surprisingly still very coherent. He said it was his "Irish blood" and that only whiskey could get him drunk, but Elsa could tell the wine was getting to him.
Anna and Kristoff, on the other hand, were definitely feeling their drinks take over as the two lovers had difficulty keeping their hands to themselves. Elsa repeatedly scolded Anna about table manners, hoping her sister's rudeness didn't disturb Patrick. Anna looked over at Elsa, a sly smirk on her face.
"So, Elsa," Anna said after a long moment of staring, "Are we going to have a Winter Ball this year?" Elsa furrowed her brow at Anna. What is she getting at?
"I think you should," Kristoff suddenly added. "It'd be a great festival for the holidays." Elsa cocked her eyebrow now. Kristoff wasn't a fan of balls and did his best to get out of them. It took Anna all her might, quite literally, to drag him to the last one.
"Why?" she asked. She then noticed Kristoff glancing his eyes down at Anna, whilst Anna was glancing hers towards Patrick. Elsa suddenly realized what they wanted. The ball would be a perfect event for Kristoff to propose to Anna and Anna wanted Elsa to invite Patrick so Elsa could…do things with Patrick. Elsa blushed at the second thought.
"Oh, of course," she said. "We should definitely have a Winter Ball."
"Sounds like a fantastic idea," Patrick intervened non-chalantly, watching himself swirl the wine in his glass.
"We could invite you, if you'd like," Anna said. Elsa bit her lip at Anna's sudden invitation.
"Well, I think it's up to your sister," Patrick said as he straightened up in his seat. All eyes were then on Elsa. She felt all their stares as she looked over at Patrick. He gave her a comforting smile and Elsa made her decision.
"You're more than welcome to come, Patrick," Patrick's face lit up, but then falterred at a sudden realization.
"I don't think your friends would like to see me at a ball," he sullenly said.
"Why not?" Anna asked with concern.
"I'm a middle class merchant, not some high class duke or businessman."
"We'll just say you're a wealthy merchant or something," Elsa assured him, putting a comforting hand on his. Patrick looked at her hand on his, then in her eyes. He smiled and took a sip of wine.
"I like the way you think, Elsa," he said with a wink.
"I like you," she blurted out with a husky tone. She heard the clatter of silverware as she turned to see Anna pursing her lips in attempt to hide her smile. Kristoff was giving her the same smug smirk from the library and Elsa realized what she just said. Before she could explain herself, Kai called for her attention.
"Yes, Kai?" she quickly replied, relieved at the butler's fortunate timing.
"I've come to retrieve Mr. O'Hare for Mr. Harrington," Kai said, looking at the American.
"Mr. Harrington?" Anna asked.
"The ambassador from London?" Elsa asked. She looked at Patrick. "How do you know him?"
"Where did I hear that?" she heard Anna mumble to herself.
"His sister is an acquaintance of mine," Patrick answered. He then stood and bid farewell Anna and Kristoff as he departed with Kai. Elsa sat for a moment contemplating whether or not to follow them. She looked over at Anna, who gave a gesture of encouragement. Elsa bolted from her seat at the table to catch up to her new flame.
"Patrick," she called out. Patrick was with a man in a black suit with a hooded, black mantle. Elsa assumed the man was Ambassador Harrington and found it odd that he'd be wearing the mantle. Patrick turned around at Elsa's call.
"Yes, Elsa?" he asked.
"I just wanted to bid you farewell," she said.
"Oh," Patrick said. "Well, um, farewell." He stuck out his hand, but Elsa wasn't in the mood for handshakes. She took his hand, pulled him in and crashed her lips onto his. They were lost in passion for a moment but then Patrick broke the kiss, to Elsa's displeasure.
"I'll see you tomorrow, then?" she then asked. Patrick nodded quickly and then turned off to go with Ambassador Harrington, but not before giving her a final wink. Elsa stood and watched them leave, her thoughts filled with nothing but Patrick. She then turned back to the dinning room to find Anna and Kristoff surprisingly still there; although it seemed they would be in Anna's bedchamber soon enough.
"So," Anna said, "Did you really think we were going to let you off easy, huh?" Elsa blushed and realized she wasn't getting out of talking about Patrick.
Things are starting to heat up between the Queen of Arendelle and our assassin. But will it last?
And to answer the question from the beginning, I will merely quote Gandalf the Grey. "A wizard is never late; nor is he early. He arrives precisely when he means to."
-rjcolo