Dear readers. You may want to savour this one. Read slowly. And privately.
Chapter Twenty
Universe
How strange it was for Anna to settle in her sheets that night of all nights. Still pained and ill, Elsa regretfully retired to bed somewhat early, leaving Anna alone in the lounge to ruminate and ponder what had just occurred. Kate eventually came, to help Anna undress and prepare for bed. With the light off and the fire crackling, Anna's mind returned to the sight of Elsa walking into her bedchamber, looking back one last time at Anna with a great deal of fondness, before closing the door behind her.
But it wasn't only fondness on her face; doubt and hopefulness were there as well. Anna thought she knew exactly why Elsa would look at her in such a way. Once again, Elsa had shown incredible bravery in telling Anna how she felt. She had leapt across the great chasm of her fears; she had kissed Anna and gave Anna precious words.
(may all the gods forgive me, but I am in love with you)
And Anna's words had stayed in Anna's head.
Unspoken. Unacknowledged. Unmanifested.
She frowned as she turned over in her sheets, facing the wall beyond which Elsa slept. Why couldn't she say the words? What was wrong with her? Oh, what a miserable creature she was, to just take and take from Elsa Wolff without giving in return!
She had these feelings, why couldn't she share them? Just what was she so afraid of? Just what was the nature of this brick wall inside her mouth?
Mired in such thoughts of self-recrimination, it took a long time for the Dowager Baroness to fall asleep.
The new day did not dawn well for her, either. She woke with a dull headache and backache, and it seemed that tiny grains of sand were entrenched behind her eyes. Her legs ached as she moved them in the sheets. Rubbing her eyes and stretching, Anna made a mental vow to share her feelings with Elsa that very evening. She would take this day to think and plan, and use the gentle darkness of the evening to speak and act. Yes, she would.
Elsa remained the only thing on Anna's mind as she rang for Kate, and started to eat breakfast. She had finished breakfast and had sealed the final version of a letter for Kate to post to Elsa's Master before Elsa emerged from her chamber. The tall, curvy, platinum-blonde woman who had stolen Anna's heart looked much brighter today; after using the facilities she sat with Anna and had tea and toast. She insisted she was well enough to give Anna an adjustment and a back rub; Anna made only a small show of resistance before she agreed.
Even having Elsa's heated hands on her body was torturous. Her desire for Elsa was a steadily burning ember that only grew more ardent as time passed; denying this desire its proper expression made it only burn fiercer. Anna felt awkward, flustered and confused as she and Elsa then dressed in bathing costumes in order to avail themselves of the hot pool in the cave for a long, cleansing soak.
It was incredibly difficult to be around Elsa in the presence of others. Elsa was careful as always, addressing Anna by her title, showing her all the proper deference that was required. Indeed, she was so good at pretending to be solely Anna's nurse that her sentiments of the night before began to feel like a dream. Had Elsa truly said and done such incredible and amazing things?
It was nearly a relief to be separated from Elsa for a while, as they dressed again and ate luncheon in the main hall. Seated with the Dowager Countess Tregarren, Anna focused on her meal and her conversation, thrusting all thoughts of Elsa aside. When the Countess invited Anna to join her and some other noblewomen in the library that afternoon for tea and embroidery, Anna readily accepted.
Elsa looked slightly surprised at this news, though she said that she would take this opportunity to have a little nap and some rest. Anna's heart quaked as she watched Elsa walk away, for Elsa walked away alone. Anna cast her eyes about and saw how several of the noblemen and servicemen stared at Elsa in frank appreciation as she strode away; irrational anger flooded Anna's chest… how dare they look at Elsa in this way! Yes, she was an incredibly beautiful woman, but she was Anna's….
Wasn't she?
If she truly was Anna's, then Anna should be by her side. And not playing the part of some silly and empty-headed Baroness interested only in gossiping about fashion and affairs.
Anna's heart squeezed as she saw Elsa pause and touch the door as she passed through; was she still so unwell? Anna immediately regretted her decision to have tea and embroidery, for now she wished to follow after Elsa, to sit down on the couch with her, and spill everything in her soul. How awful Elsa must feel, having put her vulnerable heart on her lips and tongue, only to get nothing from Anna in return!
How wretched Anna felt! How low and diminished!
The company for tea and embroidery was small, just four noblewomen, guided and led by the quite-formidable Countess of Hillgarrow, Lady Tregarren. At one point in the afternoon, the Countess looked directly at Anna and asked, "Your nurse has been ill, hasn't she, Anna?"
Anna's mouth went completely dry. She moistened her lips and answered, "Yes, for three days now."
"That's a pity. She has such a warm, giving spirit. You both seem to have a very special relationship, don't you? Somewhat other than mere lady and servant." Lady Tregarren raised a single eyebrow as she spoke, and her voice was clinical yet interested.
Alarm bells began to clang in Anna's mind, and her headache, always low and persistent, abruptly worsened. Casting about for something safe to say, Anna soon replied, "Miss Wolff has given me much comfort and joy, that is true. Besides which, her methods of rehabilitation have been nothing short of miraculous. I needn't remind you of my condition when first we came…" Anna lifted her foot from the footplate of her wheelchair and gently waved it. All the ladies nodded politely. "I must admit, it will be very difficult for me to let her go when this is all over, and I have completely recovered. However, I'm sure Miss Wolff will easily find another caretaking position." Anna was proud that her voice didn't even wobble as she spoke of her deep and abiding future sorrow.
A young daughter of an English Earl, Lady Margaret Greene, piped up, "I only wish I had such a relationship with my maid. Sometimes I feel she does things just to spite me…" The talk quickly devolved into other areas, and Anna inwardly sighed in relief.
But something cool and calculating remained in the eyes of the elderly Countess Tregarren as she continued to look at Anna, and Anna wondered why she had brought up Elsa and their… unusual relationship.
Had Anna not been careful enough? What did this woman think was the true nature of Anna's connection with Elsa?
What was the true nature of that connection?
As the afternoon continued to pass, several thoughts began to multiply with decadent putrescence in Anna's mind, polluting her mood and clouding her judgment.
God, Anna, what were you thinking, that you could just fall in love with Elsa Wolff and not reap the consequences? This isn't some fairy tale, Baroness. Is it possible to love her the way you do, and not show it to the world? And, should you show it, would they see only a passionate friendship that shouldn't really exist between noble and servant, or would they see something more?
Do you really care what they think? Or do you care only that, once again, you want something you cannot have?
For you cannot have Elsa the way you truly want her. There just isn't enough time.
It was a relief to leave that stuffy chamber in order to take a turn through the gardens just before afternoon tea. Elsa was summoned, and so Elsa came to guide Anna in her wheelchair through the gardens as the ladies walked and nattered on. The air was bitingly cold, the gardens reamed with silvery frost, and winter dusk already encroached upon them. Yet Anna forced herself to stay witty and engaged with her noble companions, although that seemed to engender disinterest towards Elsa, the only servant invited upon their walk. Anna was the only person with a disability; the other noblewomen were all at the resort for general relaxation and wellness.
Oh, what was passing through Elsa's mind, to be treated this way in front of others? Could she understand what was at stake? Did she understand why it was necessary?
Eventually the wind started to bite them with cantankerous fury, and they all decided to return to the resort. Anna excused herself from the remainder of their idle pursuits, complaining of a headache, quite glad to be retreating back to the apartment she shared with Elsa, her nurse who was no longer just her nurse.
Her headache was turning into something rather ghastly, and she finally admitted to it. Elsa gave her a powder before urging her to lie down on the couch for a while; afternoon tea could wait. So Anna took that powder and Elsa's advice, all the electric lights off for a time, the gathering dusk scattering drifts of charcoal throughout the sitting room now that the only light came from the warmly glowing fire.
Anna breathed through her pain and her mental anguish and felt her eyelids become heavy, even as she endeavoured to keep them open; Elsa sat on the other chair by the fire with a small smile of contentment on her face, as she did nothing but sit. No embroidery. No book. No diary or journal. Nothing that would distract her from her current focus, which seemed to be Anna alone.
Only then did Anna realize that Elsa had not coughed much in Anna's company in the last hour or so. Maybe she really was starting to feel better. Thank all the gods.
However, Elsa still seemed pale and listless, her energy levels low. Was this illness truly the fault of having but one kidney, or was something else at play?
What had Elsa meant by the words she had spoken under the influence of illness and laudanum?
(I'm dying, my world is ending
Anna died decades ago, of sudden infection
The book said you died in September 1924
But you're not dead
Oh, I can feel your heart beating)
Elsa's hand had cupped her breast as she had comforted herself with Anna's heartbeat that night she shivered in the sheets. Just thinking of it now caused delirious joy to invade Anna's chest.
For they were alone again, and the fire was so comfortable, and the weight of the blanket so soothing on Anna's poor body, and her headache slowly eased from its prior roar; Anna looked at Elsa with her half-lidded eyes and saw Elsa looking back at her with a sweet, near worshipful gaze.
Anna felt an answering lurch in her stomach as she looked at the fire-kissed expanse of Elsa's lips. She looked at them and remembered them another way; how desperate they had been upon her own just last night, how very insistent!
She and Elsa were alone now, and would probably remain so for the rest of the evening. Even now, Elsa seemed quietly expectant; her yearning was palpable and argent. Could Anna finally say something, would she finally admit to the love that had appeared so brilliantly in her breast as she had held a shivering Elsa in her arms two nights ago?
Anna would not.
Anna dozed instead. And every moment in the oblivion of sleep was blessed, for it excused Anna from the wretchedness of the now.
…
It was that evening, the evening of December the fourth.
Five days had passed since they had watched the aurora together, and three days had passed since Elsa had fallen so ill. Two days ago Anna had cradled Elsa in her bed, and, just the night before, Elsa had told Anna she had fallen in love with her.
How could time be this fickle, this contrary? Anna felt as if she had passed through an entire decade since the night of the concert, when Elsa had told her it was her birthday.
Anna had felt wretched that night, knowing she was a poor diminished creature who hadn't cared enough about Elsa Wolff.
Tonight she felt even more wretched still.
As dinner in their quarters came and went, and the evening itself began to slip through Anna's clumsy fingers, Anna felt mired in self-condemnation and chastisement. Moment by moment she told herself to just open up to Elsa, to share the feelings that had taken such strong and glorious root inside her, but she was truly incapable. Anna knew that her words would help heal this strange breach that had formed between them in the time since Elsa's heartfelt admission of love, and she also knew that Elsa suffered from not knowing if Anna returned her feelings.
Anna couldn't bear the thought of Elsa suffering, neither physically nor emotionally, but she just couldn't speak.
That same enormous fear still reigned over her tongue with a sword of pitted steel, slaying every attempt at truth.
As time in Elsa's company stuttered and crept along, their talk inconsequential and empty, Anna subconsciously evaluated this reticence and fear. As great as her feelings for Elsa had become, to give voice to them would make them real for all time. Would this dishonour Hans' memory? Did she care if it did? Was it truly right for her to love Elsa, or was it somehow better to just stumble along this awful road littered with such pangs for true love, yet still stay loyal to everything she had been taught her entire life?
Every time she gathered the courage to open her mouth and say the much-needed words of love, she closed her mouth again. Irrational fear kept appearing inside her, and those tender words would die, crushed between the strong nourished teeth of her fear.
Now was a perfect example.
They had both changed into their nightgowns and returned to the lounge for the last hour of the evening. Elsa was seated on the couch, curled upon it like a snowy cat while she made notes in her journal, her hair twisted up and away from her neck. Her eyes often flicked up and over to where Anna sat at her writing desk, ostensibly reviewing correspondence Helene had sent her regarding the War Widows Fund.
At least, that was what Anna told herself she was doing.
In fact, she was stalling. She just couldn't concentrate. Not when Elsa's eyes would caress her; here, in the privacy of the little apartment they called home, Elsa's eyes would fill with adoration and fondness when looking at her. In these moments Elsa was as transparent as the great glass windows of Iskall Slott, when the sun would set over the sea and fill the room with massive roars of peach and purple light.
Anna didn't fear rejection, not with this abundant and bountiful love that so roared from her nurse and therapist, Elsa Wolff.
So just what was she afraid of?
Why could she not speak?
The evening aged, and grew hoary. Night began its spectacular dark ascendance.
Elsa yawned, again and again, as the clock ticked towards ten. Finally the younger woman announced that it was time for her to go to bed, for she still felt somewhat unwell. She rose from the couch and came to Anna's side. "Good night, honey," she whispered as she bent over to kiss Anna's cheeks.
"Sleep well, Elsa," Anna replied, wishing oh wishing she had enough courage to just say what she wanted to say, and do what she wanted to do. Which was to take Elsa's face in her hands and kiss her again, on the lips this time, and assure her that she was loved, so very loved.
But no, Anna Arendelle did none of these things. She watched Elsa walk away instead, and saw Elsa entered her bedchamber and close the door behind her. The moment Elsa was gone, Anna propped her elbows on the desk and put her face in her hands in the utmost personal confusion and despair.
What was wrong with her?
After a few minutes of remorseless self-pity, Anna abruptly made herself sit up, and she wiped her eyes with her handkerchief.
You are no coward, Anna. You have never been a coward. Don't start now. Use that clever brain of yours that your husband despised and think this through!
Okay. First. Elsa Wolff, the woman you desperately love, is also in love with you.
And Anna immediately thought that she should have been overjoyed to discover that Elsa was in love with her. A much younger Anna had believed that such a declaration of love would solve all her problems, and validate her existence. This Anna held no such illusions, yet she was surprised to find that Elsa's statement did not immediately fill some hole in her soul, some gap in her existence. Why did this chasm yet remain?
For she had always skirted around this chasm, this yawning crevasse of true love. In the early years of her marriage to Hans, she kept telling herself to try harder, to find ways to compliment him and appreciate him, hoping that would allow love to flourish in her whole heart. Oh, how many nights she had lain with him and forced herself to produce the motions of love, believing that if only she could fake it long enough, it would become true!
She had blamed herself for his callousness and distance so many times. His behaviour was her fault; she just had to be a better wife and lover to him.
But then again, Hans had never looked at her the way Elsa looked at her. Never.
Anna closed her eyes as she thought of it.
For now that Elsa had professed her love aloud, she was brave enough to allow it full expression on her body and face while in the privacy of their quarters. Over this entire day, each time Anna glanced over at Elsa she saw Elsa's body oriented towards Anna, her eyes brim-full with tenderness; somehow even more warm chewy admiration would enter Elsa's abundant expression when she discovered Anna looking at her in return. Anna's heart trembled each and every time, the very core of her being quaked and vibrated to be the object of such perusal!
How marvellous and soul-enriching it was to behold! Oh, this was the love she had been searching for her entire life, and here it was, like a gift dropped from the very heavens.
So why, oh why couldn't Anna just respond likewise? Her feelings towards Elsa were so incredibly strong, immense love and yearning filled her entire being, she ached to hold her and kiss her and love her in return.
So why couldn't she? Dig deeper, Anna, what's going on?
Anna put her handkerchief away and looked out the window. Icy rain clattered against the windows, mercilessly battered by winter wind. Following a sudden impulse, Anna turned off the lamp on her writing desk, plunging the lounge into darkness lit only by dying firelight. The room cast now in mysterious sputtering crimson and maroon shadows, she wheeled herself away from her desk and to the window so she could stare into the darkness. It was quite late now, and the world outside the resort was so chaotic and blustery; a mirror to Anna's tortured thoughts.
The fire hissed as it slowly consumed itself, continuing its inevitable reduction to ash.
Anna lifted her hand and touched the window glass; it was welcoming in its coolness. Her breath made a cloud upon the pane. She thought of Elsa as she had seen her the day of Anna's greatest agony, the day Elsa had to leave her. Elsa had been standing by the window, just like this. She had had her hand on her back, and her other palm on the glass, the weight of her stories and secrets upon her shoulders as rain struck the pane with vicious intensity.
Anna had gazed at her that day in such gratitude and ignorance. They had finally used each other's true names, but so much more was clouded and unclear. Such tempests awaited, just like those bolts of lightning that had tried to assault Iskall Slott.
Oh, Anna just hadn't known!
Anna hadn't known that one such weight on Elsa's shoulders had been named Leif Arendelle. Another weight had the name of Catriona Murphy.
Other weights remained, Anna knew. Elsa had gasped of them, during the night of laudanum-induced nightmare.
She wished she knew their names as well, that she could help Elsa carry some of their incredible burden. Oh, why did Elsa keep her from this truth?
Anna shook her head, ripping herself away from this meandering thought. This isn't about Elsa. It's about you. So, stop evading the real question!
Anna, just what exactly are you afraid of? Why can't you speak?
Now that Anna had opened her mind up to thought, and created space for understanding, her higher self provided an answer, an answer so terrible and true that Anna could scarcely abide it.
It was completely acceptable in this day and age for women to have intense, near passionate female friendships. Indeed, it was one of the ways women were perceived as being weaker than men, for women indulged in these emotional outlets instead of stifling them. The idea of female friendship and companionship included occasional kisses, ardent embraces, and long letters exchanged.
Yet these relationships were often bound in other ways, for these women were usually already married. They had their socially acceptable sexual partner. Society didn't care what went on behind closed doors, for the woman was doing her duty as part of her marriage.
Anna was a widow. She had no partner. Her friendship with Elsa would be perceived in a different light. Anna didn't exactly care what people would say about her, what gossip would perpetuate behind closed tearoom or library doors. They could say what they wished, even if Anna eventually dared form a romantic relationship with her nurse and therapist.
No, Anna's pain and fear came from an altogether different source.
Elsa's transience.
The night she had held a shivering Elsa in her arms, she had spoken the truth. She wanted Elsa to stay with her forever.
But in this she would be denied.
In this past year, Anna had passed through more pain and agony than she believed could exist. Yet that pain and agony would be a trifle compared to the blinding sorrow of Elsa's eventual departure.
So how could she speak her truth, how could she invite this intimacy, knowing it would all eventually end?
Even now, Anna couldn't bear to lose Elsa. If they became lovers, it would be a thousand times worse. Anna evaluated her heart and knew that she just wasn't strong enough. Not for this.
Anna abruptly pushed herself away from the window; she couldn't bear the sight of her tortured face in the pane. She pushed herself back and back, until she bumped into the writing desk. At which point she bowed her head and put her face in her hands.
Immeasurable grief put soft implacable fingers around her neck and choked her. For a moment she could scarcely breathe.
Oh, god, what do I do now? I want her, I desperately want her. But I can't have her!
I beg of you; if you love me, send me a sign! Show me what to do, please!
The fire hissed and popped, invigorated. The rain continued to bash against the windowpane.
Her heart hammered and thrilled. Anguish reigned, flying rampant throughout time. Anna thought she would vibrate apart, so great were her agonies.
And then she heard a beloved voice whisper, "Anna?"
Anna swivelled her head and saw Elsa crouched at her side. Surprised and emotionally shaken, Anna could only look at her, for Elsa still appeared pale and fragile as she slowly recovered from her sudden illness. Tears suddenly filled Anna's eyes; just seeing her here caused her heart to quiver with longing and sorrow.
Elsa's face was somewhat stern. "Come with me, Anna," she suddenly commanded. She rose, set the brakes on Anna's chair, and then bent over again, her arms going under Anna's knees and behind her shoulders.
Startled into obedience, Anna automatically put her arms around Elsa's neck and allowed Elsa to lift her from her chair. Elsa lifted and carried her slowly and deliberately, her tireless feet crossing the threshold of her chamber; Anna half-closed her eyes and held on tight.
Elsa took her into her room and gently placed Anna on her bed, just as she had done a thousand times before. Yet she caressed Anna's shoulder before straightening and momentarily rubbing her back.
Anna's bedchamber was chilly and dark, so Elsa turned and went to the fireplace, closing the bedroom door on her way. Kate had already prepared the fire for lighting; all Elsa had to do was spark it with a match. Anna watched as Elsa did so, coaxing her somewhat working legs into a more comfortable position, using the triangle bar above her bed to sit against the headboard.
She couldn't help but stare at Elsa in some confusion; how was it possible that Elsa was here now, when she so needed her? Anna couldn't rip her eyes away from Elsa in this moment; Elsa was a goddess, the light from the youthful fire behind her beginning to cast her frame in a rich halo.
Elsa returned to her; Anna's sight was arrested. Anna recognized the satin nightgown and the embroidered robe atop it, but never had she seen Elsa's hair completely loose before. It flowed over her shoulders like a snowy mountain stream, glinting now with fire-borne hints of red and gold. Despite the months they had spent together, Anna had never seen Elsa's hair like this before; it shone like moonlit-ice, like sun-kissed snow, and oh, how Anna wanted to run her fingers through it!
Anna also realized that she desperately wanted a hug. All those thoughts that had passed through her mind in the last twenty-four hours were still crowding her mind with judgement and misery. She wanted Elsa's arms around her; she wanted to nestle next to Elsa's neck. She needed to be held, and cherished, and loved as she had never been loved in all her life.
But even now she just couldn't ask for what she wanted. It was just a hug, all she wanted was a hug, and even this simple request perished between those strong nourished teeth of her fear.
Elsa was intuitive and observant, but she was no mind-reader, no prophetess or seer. Elsa couldn't know of this simple unmet desire; she just sat down on the edge of Anna's bed, tucking her knee under her just as she had done a thousand times before.
Yet never had she sat with quite such presence and authority, with an overwhelming sense of place and belonging, for never had she graced Anna with such naked love and devotion as this very moment. It was so vulnerable and so true that Anna felt tears well up in her eyes yet again.
"I need to ask for your forgiveness, Anna," Elsa said, without softener, without preamble.
"Why on earth would you need my forgiveness?" Anna spluttered, genuinely surprised. She was so incredibly bewildered, just what was happening?
"Because I really should have recognized all these signs before now. I should have been more observant, and realized what you have been going through today. I should have been more available to you, to support you in your personal revolution. God knows I've seen this reaction in other women. That is why I must apologize. I should have known better by now."
"Elsa, I…"
"Anna, how did it feel when I kissed you last night?"
Anna closed her mouth and stared at her.
"Honey, please answer the question."
"It was the best, most amazing kiss of my life."
"Were you scared?"
"A little."
"I could sense it. How else did you feel?"
Anna tried to stop anticipating where Elsa was going with this conversation, and decided to just answer the questions. She inhaled and took a moment to think and gather the scattered threads of her truth. She wove them together in her mind and then spoke them, a gift for her Elsa.
"How did I feel? I felt like I was finally coming home, maybe for the first time in my life. The fire I felt within you, your hunger, your… longing, and all for me… it rewrote my perceptions of myself. I felt the same way the night of the aurora, like a small yet essential part of me had been out and drifting among the stars. When you kissed me, that part came back to me. The way you kissed me, Elsa… I never imagined anyone could ever kiss me that way." Anna could barely speak these last words, and it took some effort to continue to meet Elsa's soft gaze.
Elsa seemed to gather this gift of truth in her arms, folding it inside herself. And then she asked, "It did something else to you, didn't it, Anna? It made you start to question. It caused you doubt. It created suffering."
"Yes," Anna breathed. "Also all that."
"Let me tell you a true story, honey," Elsa said as she shuffled even closer to Anna and put her hand on Anna's knee. "I grew up in a deeply religious family. From the moment of my birth I was taught that homosexuality was a grave sin, worthy of hell and damnation. It wasn't just wrong, it wasn't just illegal, it was evil, it came from the devil, and it would be best never to entertain such thoughts.
"Yet as I grew older, entering my teenage… excuse me, adolescent years, I discovered something shocking. I desired girls. Not boys. Girls. I would look at them, with their long and beautiful legs, with the curve of their necks, and the softness of their lips. Nothing about boys was attractive to me, there was nothing to entice or excite me. But it was boys I was supposed to like, a boy I was supposed to love and marry. Only with a man could a woman fulfill her greatest destiny, that of being a wife and mother. Without a man, a woman was nothing. So I was taught.
"So I started to walk out with a young man or two from my home town, and those foolish young men quickly said they were in love with me, and wanted to marry me, but I couldn't return their feelings. I began to believe I was a flawed creation. I was an aberration in God's plan."
"But you're not!" Anna protested. "You are perfect, just the way you are!"
Elsa smiled at her and squeezed her knee. "You're a dear. I'm not perfect, far from it, and so I thought myself to be made wrong when I was so young and confused. I couldn't even talk to anyone about it. I had to suffer through it on my own. Why would God make me this way?
"Or was this somehow my choice? Had I somehow chosen this particular agony, to love women instead of men? It had never seemed like a choice to me. It had only ever seemed like a harness, as if I were only a mule, and my universe the unforgiving muleteer.
"Because even from my youth I knew I had a great gift for healing, I had such capacity for compassion and love. But why, why would all my love be turned towards my own gender?
"Everything got so much harder after my father and brother died. I felt I had to sacrifice my own dreams to keep the farm going, to keep my mother happy. But I couldn't stay forever; even at that age I knew another life was waiting for me. I left as soon as I could, to study nursing in Montreal, thinking that if only I could help people enough, God might forgive me for loving women. With all this effort, surely He would not damn me to hell. Not for something so simple and so beautiful as love."
Rapt, Anna listened to Elsa's words, her soul quivering on the edges of them. Her words were a plough, harrowing up the fertile field that was Anna's own confused soul.
Readying the field for sowing, and a most plentiful harvest.
"My acceptance of this part of myself did not come easily. I finished nursing school and instantly moved to Europe, eventually settling for a year in Czechoslovakia. I met a woman there. She was a little older than me, and I fell madly in love with her. The type of young mad love that isn't meant to last, it's only meant to teach and illuminate. A chapter in a book, not a book itself." Elsa said this with a wistful smile, and Anna's heart lurched yet again. Her mind bubbled and roared with Elsa's tale; Elsa had also had a lover in Czechoslovakia?
How many women had Elsa loved?
And how had Elsa actually lived in Czechoslovakia? How on earth had she managed that? What other stories did Elsa have? Dear god, Elsa was easily the most interesting and complex person Anna had ever encountered!
"She was so instrumental for me, Anna," Elsa continued with a soft sigh. "She accepted me. She loved me. Kissing her proved everything to me. In kissing her I discovered such joy, such incredible fulfillment, so deeply that I just knew it couldn't be wrong. How could such love be anything but right?
"Our relationship eventually ended, and I decided to go to India. It had been calling me for a long time, after all. And it took me a very long time to get there, though, in hindsight, that was a very good thing. By the time I arrived at the monastery in the mountains, I knew I had changed. I had somehow accepted every disparate part of myself. And, somewhere along my journey, I lost my sense of God."
Anna's eyes widened as she tried to understand just what Elsa meant.
Elsa was so focused on her that she immediately adapted to Anna's expression and continued, saying, "Let me explain. It was the judgemental and fear-inducing God of my childhood that I lost. I gained a completely new God along the way. What I discovered in my long journey wasn't even God anymore, not really. God was too narrow a term for the absolute presence that appeared to me. I found the universe instead, my dear, a benevolent and loving and omnipotent universe, a force that would support me and uplift me in every moment of my life, and in my every hidden thought and need.
"And when I discovered the universe, I also discovered my place in it.
"Imagine it, Anna. Imagine a moment when you completely accept every part of yourself, the flawed with the divine. Sweetheart, one day I opened my eyes and I somehow knew it all. The moment I accepted every part of myself, including my desire for women, was the moment I felt completely aligned to the universe for the first time in my life. That was the first moment I understood how rare I was, how beautiful, how perfect and essential. I needed no one to tell me these things. I knew them for myself.
"I cannot tell you how liberating this was. How it rearranged my entire life, my entire future. And lest you get the wrong idea, it didn't come in a blaze of glory, like some gift simply handed down from the sky. It came instead as a soft sensation that spanned weeks and months of service. Just… one day I woke up to the sight of primroses on the mountains, and I felt altered. I felt deeply rooted, cradled within the protective embrace of a universe that adored me, a universe that celebrated the fact that I had been created this way, and that I existed. For I finally understood that I was perfect, just the way I was.
"How innocent I was back then, how trusting! I had no idea of how I would eventually be tested, how my benevolent and loving universe would put my toes repeatedly into the fire. I had no taste of the trials to come, how the universe would examine me and test my dedication to my deepest, highest, and truest self. Anna, I certainly had no premonition of the hardships to come, of the thunderstorm that redefined me and my place in this world. Certainly I could not have foreseen the Great War, with all its privation and despair. I could not have foreseen Leif, nor Catriona.
"And I most certainly could not have imagined you, Anna Arendelle, the darling of my heart and soul."
Anna had shivered to hear Elsa mention this storm yet again, yet that was nothing compared to the soul-displacing wonder of hearing her name coupled with darling of heart and soul. With every syllable Elsa spoke, Anna felt her soul magnifying. She knew that she had been waiting her entire life, all 57 years of it, just to hear these words.
These words, they were destined for her. Just as Elsa was destined for her.
Just as Elsa was destined to leave her.
How she quivered, how she trembled! For these long minutes of Elsa's heartfelt oration, Anna felt as if she stood upon the precipice of a great and high abyss, and all about her was a storm, thunderclouds and charged orange lightning, waiting to ravage her, ready to rearrange her entire future. Such darkness, such foment, such anticipation!
The mental darkness she had passed through, her spiritual agonies of this very day, it had all been preparation for this moment of transformation.
For the first time in her life, Anna felt ready to leap off the cliff of her irrational fears. To fly or to fall, it didn't matter which, for the universe was there with her.
The universe was a great mouth, ready to swallow her. She would pass through the stomach and guts of its dread fanged world.
And be transformed in the process.
And the first bolt of lightning struck her, in the form of a momentous thought.
I am Anna Arendelle. There is none other like me. And I am a gift, a gift to this world.
The insight was so glorious that Anna closed her eyes and lifted her neck, surrendering to it.
And with the tongue of her precious and infinite soul, she spoke into the recesses of her mind, addressing the universe that had formed her, so perfectly and so well, the universe that forever dwelled within her mind.
I am yours. Hear me. I. Am. Yours.
Another shiver rippled through her, a celestial vibration. Once again she could scarcely breathe, for joy pulsed within her, and beauty filled her, and it was pain that had provided the foundation for all of it, the pain of a broken back, and traction for broken legs, and infected bedsores… and young Lord Galthe's consumption and death, and Elsa Wolff holding her dead lover among high mountains, oh god, Elsa Wolff…
Anna opened her eyes and there she was, this messenger of divinity, this voice of the cosmos.
How was it possible that Elsa had come to her, that Elsa had fallen in love with her?
How was any of this possible?
"Anna?" Elsa whispered, a feather of concern in her voice.
"Speak on, my darling," Anna whispered, for Elsa wasn't finished yet. There was something more, at least one more truth that waited upon the glory of Elsa's tongue. Anna didn't know how she knew this, but it was true nevertheless. "Say what you are meant to say."
She saw Elsa swallow. Her neck was so lovely! Oh, Anna wanted to touch it!
"Dearest, this is what I have to say. I have forgotten my lessons many times in the years since discovering this truth. I have such stories to tell you, Anna, stories that I desperately hope you will believe. But believe me when I tell you that there is nothing to be ashamed of. I saw your agony today, honey. I witnessed your war. Anna, if you love women, if you want to love me, believe me that it's all right. It is natural. Love, true and abiding love is such a gift. No one else will tell you this; god-fearing fanatics of this day and age will try to convince you otherwise, but please believe me. Please learn from the lessons that came to me so hard."
Anna put out her hand and touched Elsa's hand, there on her knee. Elsa's impassioned voice came to a halt, and she lifted a single eyebrow as she looked at Anna. "I appreciate your words, Elsa," Anna began, "but that was not the true nature of my war today. Those fanatics can say and do what they wish. I care not."
"Then what was it, honey? What tortured you so much today? I have seen a particular agony on your face for the past week. Tell me, please."
Anna's throat grew thick just to think of it, to consider, yet again, Elsa's eventual departure from her life. She moistened her lips and said, "It's quite simple, really. It's only the thought of losing you."
Elsa blinked as she reeled from Anna's simple words. Anna continued, "You once said that our separation will be agony. It will be more than agony to me, Elsa. It will be… actually, there is no word to describe it. You will leave me one day. And, even now, I don't know if I will survive it."
Elsa shook her head slightly in either negation or wonder, Anna didn't know which.
Suddenly bereft and incredibly lonesome, despite the pressure of Elsa's hand on her knee, Anna continued, "I'm a strong woman, Elsa. But not strong enough. Not for that."
"Oh, sweetheart," Elsa breathed. "That is the nature of your war? Losing me?"
"Yes. For it will happen. One way or another. Won't it?"
A strange expression flashed upon Elsa's gentle features. "I wish I could say no…" Elsa whispered. "Believe me. I'm in love with you, Anna. I would stay with you, I would be with you forever, if only I could. But I… I can't."
It brought Anna no joy to hear those words from Elsa's mouth. It only deepened the already aching crevasse in Anna's heart. "I knew it," Anna whimpered. "How can I love you, when you will leave me? And how can you bear this pain? If you have some secret, please teach me. How are you strong enough for this? Do you not feel this same pain, this same agony?"
Elsa's eyes were so soft, so wounded as she absorbed Anna's piteous words. "Oh, I feel it," she replied. "This whole day has been torturous for me. And, to answer your question, I'm probably not. Strong enough, I mean. But I will not sacrifice the joy you bring to me in the present moment for a future filled with sorrow." Her voice got strangely small as she continued, "Even if, one day, you yourself might wish I had. I am selfish, Anna. I want you. Even if…" and her voice came to a halt.
Both women paused. Anna heard the crackling of the fire; saw shadows dancing across the ceiling. Elsa seemed to wilt; had Anna's personal despair finally infected her?
But then Elsa shook her head, and straightened her spine, and her beloved blue eyes became incredibly sharp and keen. "No," she murmured. "I will not succumb. And neither will you."
"Wha—"
"Anna, listen to me."
"I'm listening."
"What I am about to say is the truth I discovered, through much hardship and pain. You wish to know my secret? It is this.
"I am a genuine child of the universe, Anna. Worlds without number whirl inside me. Every atom of my body now vibrates in harmony and communion with the essential vibration of the cosmos. From Mars to Pluto, from Virgo to the great unknown… they are mine, and I am theirs. Anna, I am the sun, I am the moon, and I am everything in between. My sea is endless.
"Hear me, Anna. I am the endless sea.
"And so are you."
Lightning struck Anna again, exploding throughout her nerves, raging over her entire healing frame, powerful enough to displace her borrowed agony from a future that hadn't even occurred.
And for the third time in her life, Anna caught a glimpse of her divinity, of the fact that she was eternal, that part of her had always existed, and would always exist. Elsa had been the architect of each of these instances of knowing; the first on the summery field the day she had submitted to her pain, and the second had been the night of the aurora.
It was no mere fancy that Anna had felt part of her soul return to her on the waves of the celestial river of the aurora. It had been truth, it had been the youthful aching part of her love and hope that she had once ripped from her heart only to cast into the storm riddled coast of the Aegean Sea.
This part of her heart and soul had returned to her, and now Elsa's words had thoroughly stitched these disparate parts of her together. Anna felt bliss flooding through her, swirling and churning around the blocks of her present and future despair.
(if we are already so connected
if our seas have already merged so completely
then wouldn't the memory of our love help carry me over my eventual sorrow?
as Tennyson said, isn't it better to love and lose than never to have loved at all?)
Her whole soul shivering and expanding, Anna watched as Elsa finally released her hold on Anna's knee, only to take Anna's hand.
And for the first time, Elsa entwined their fingers together and pressed tight, so they were palm to palm.
Anna's heart squeezed so tightly she could scarcely breathe. Constellations burst behind her eyes. The depth of her love for Elsa nearly choked her. She wanted to reel from the force of it, and only Elsa's fingers locked so tightly with her own kept her grounded.
Then Elsa lifted her other hand, to stroke and caress Anna's cheek. "Nothing happens by chance, Anna, yet our destiny is our own. Lightning may strike, and roars of thunder may rearrange our past and our future, but our choice is ever the same. The world can take everything from us, it can strip us down to nothing, but one thing remains. We choose how to react. That is the last and greatest gift of the universe. Reaction is always our choice.
"Even knowing this, I haven't always been brave. Anna, by the time I came to Iskall Slott and to you, I was despairing. My reserves were gone. I felt abandoned by my god, I felt bereft and alone. Oh, I can scarcely admit it now, but there were times our first weeks together when I wanted to leave you, leave the life I had created, simply pick up the pieces of my shattered existence and drift away on whatever tide would have me. I didn't think I had enough strength for you. I saw you as broken, perhaps beyond my ability to fix."
Anna's eyes widened to hear this, and her soul trembled with agony for a past that did not occur. Oh, what if Elsa had not stayed!
None, none of this would have happened!
(Anna Arendelle died in September 1924, of sudden infection
the book said you died)
Anna's strange thoughts were interrupted as Elsa's hand drifted down Anna's cheek to stroke the length of Anna's neck as she continued, "And how wrong I was. My lady, my heart, believe me. You taught me courage. Despite all the mistakes I have made, all the secrets I have kept for misguided reasons, the universe still adores me. The universe still blesses me, and seeks to help me. Because the universe brought me you. When I needed you most of all, the universe brought me you."
Now Elsa's hand was under her chin, and her thumb strayed perilously near Anna's mouth. Elsa looked right into Anna's eyes as she said, "You, Anna. You are the last best gift of my life. So I will love you. I will adore you. Even if you feel you cannot love me in return."
Elsa paused in her oration, her words thick and choked with emotion. Her beloved blue eyes were reddened, and gleaming. Anna beheld such hope in them, along with such incredible pain.
Time passed, unmarked and unseen. Anna's world, blown apart, began to reorganize into something magnificent and breathtaking and new.
Elsa's truth reverberated inside her. Anna was the endless sea.
Which meant that she was strong enough for this, this incredible love, this inevitable severance. She was strong enough to bear all things.
Just like that, a great shift occurred.
For Elsa was destined to leave her, that Anna knew, but Anna could still love her, body, mind and soul. She did not know the date of Elsa's eventual departure, but she no longer cared.
(my fate, I give to you, as I would give all good things to you)
She would make those words true, she would bear Elsa's fate for as long as she could, and count each moment as a gift.
For Elsa was the purest gift that could ever be granted, and Anna felt so blessed that this gift had come to her.
So, yes, Anna would love her. And one day, Anna would lose her.
So be it.
Anna moistened her lips and said, "And you have been my gift, Elsa Wolff. I meant what I said a few days ago when you fell ill. I have given my fate to you. Now and forevermore. For never in my life have I loved anyone the way I love you."
Elsa's hand was now upon her neck, and a tear slipped from her eye. "Anna, I beg you… I know you love me. But are you… do you…" and then she could no longer speak, for the immense aching hope in her voice finally choked her.
Anna lifted her free hand and wiped away that tear. "The moment you shivered to sleep in my arms was the moment I finally admitted it to myself. From the moment you blazed into my life, Elsa, I have loved you. But that night, the night I held you in my arms, the night I comforted you and cradled you, that was when I realized… oh, gods…"
"Please say it," Elsa whispered after Anna's voice shuddered to a halt.
Anna knew that she was on the last great precipice of her entire life. She took a deep breath as she considered her awful, Elsa-less future for the last time.
And then she leaped.
"Elsa, you are the light of my life. I simply cannot describe the joy you bring to me. Elsa, I am in love with you."
Elsa stared at her a moment before she uttered a strangely piteous cry as she disentangled their hands and launched herself forward to wrap her arms around Anna. Momentarily startled, Anna embraced Elsa in return, feeling Elsa thrum under her hands.
"Oh, how I had hoped…" Elsa breathed into Anna's ear as she convulsed in Anna's arms. "But you didn't speak, and then I didn't know… oh, my heart, it hurt so..." She clutched Anna even tighter, mirroring the night of laudanum-induced shivering distress.
"Forgive me," Anna breathed as she stroked Elsa's back. She felt tears of remorse pricking her eyes. "I wanted to say it earlier, darling, believe me I did, I just… I…"
Elsa suddenly pulled herself out of Anna's embrace and rubbed her eyes with the back of her hand. "I saw it, Anna, remember? This is a very great revolution, and it overtook you quite quickly. You do not need my forgiveness, yet still I forgive you." A smile broke out on her weary and worn face. "Yet would you indulge me, honey? Say it again. I… I need to hear it once more."
Anna smiled, so generous and abundant. "Elsa, I'm in love with you."
This time it was Elsa who lifted her neck to the fire-dappled light of Anna's bedchamber. Anna stared at that pearly expanse of neck as she had so many times before, yet never had her desire to touch it and explore it been this acute!
Elsa closed her eyes and lifted her neck and seemed to momentarily float on Anna's words, as if they would buoy her up forever on the skin of her own endless sea.
And when she brought her head down once again and opened her eyes to gaze upon Anna, Anna saw naked yearning and palpable desire engraved upon those beloved eyes.
Elsa turned her head, coughed lightly, and then grasped Anna's nearest hand once more as she said, "Dearest, do you remember the day I returned to you from London, after my Master passed away?"
Anna reluctantly tore her eyes away from Elsa's soft lips and focused on Elsa's eyes. "Yes."
"I said…"
"You are my home now," Anna finished, easily bringing these precious words from the hoard inside her mind. "You are the only place I want to be."
Elsa looked surprised, but only for a moment. "Anna, I was already in love with you that day. I… it was the day of your great pain… the day I thought I was going to lose you."
Wait, that was this September, 1924… Anna distantly thought as she listened to Elsa speak.
"Powerless in the face of your struggle, I looked upon you and realized what had happened. I knew that day I had feelings for you that, as a nurse, I shouldn't have. So I made myself a mountain, again. I buried my feelings. I couldn't admit them to myself. I would only open myself to such pain, such heartache." She shakily inhaled. "I had already suffered, so very much. I couldn't bear the thought of any more. So time passed. And I denied you. Even as, day by day, I fell in love with you more and more."
"So how did that change?" Anna asked, forcing herself to focus on her dearest love, ignoring the continuing vibration of all the words they had spoken, the words that still leaped so joyously in the air like great candy fishes.
"The day of my birthday ride," Elsa admitted. "You had given me ample time to think, and the only thing on my mind that day was you. That was the day I truly discovered what you had come to mean to me. That was the day I discovered that I had underestimated you, yet again. Once again I would deny the impact you could bring to my life, if only I could accept you. Oh, when I think of the time I lost…"
"Time passes for a reason, Elsa. We are not perfect," Anna interrupted. "Don't regret that passage of time. God knows I don't. To think that the universe knew I needed you so long ago, so that you fell upon those boulders in India. And then to send you to Leif during the war. And finally you came to me. Elsa, can you not see the inherent design and wonder in it all? We may not understand its necessity, nor its beauty, but that should not mean we cannot look at these things in awe. God, Elsa, what does it all mean?"
Elsa's face was completely serious as she took in Anna's impassioned words. She continued to hold Anna's hand as she said, "Only that we are truly meant for each other. More than anyone in the world. Anna, I adored my Catriona. But what I feel for you… honey, it scares me."
"Why, Elsa? Why does it scare you?"
Elsa abruptly stopped, and swallowed.
Anna allowed her this moment of distress, of panic and pain. She allowed it, for she knew just what could be built upon the ashes of such emotion, just what could be created from such chaos and destruction.
A stray cow on wintery train tracks had obliterated her entire life.
That same cow had brought her here. Right here.
To the greatest glory and wonder that could ever await a human being.
Her beloved's eyes reddened yet again, and Elsa softly squeezed her hand. Naked agony was in her voice as she said, "It scares me because I… I want to be your lover, Anna. Actually, I want to be your life partner, in every single sense of the word. And…" Elsa's voice hitched, and Anna's heart broke to hear Elsa's agony exposed, "And in this I must be denied. My place in your world is bounded, and we both know it."
Anna swallowed the timbre of those words, because she recognized the truth in them. The same dire thoughts had been circulating in her mind.
She was a Dowager Baroness. Elsa was her therapist. These things could not change. These things were bounded.
But then she set those thoughts aside, for space had been created for them, here and now. Scarborough was a bubble, and one day it would burst, but until then…
Until then, Anna would take what the universe offered her, and she wouldn't regret a single moment of it.
"That may be true, my love," Anna softly replied. "But for now we have… we have…"
Pause.
"What do we have?" Elsa asked, low and desperate.
Anna knew how to answer.
Anna deliberately disengaged their hands. She lifted one hand and stroked the length of Elsa's cheek before sliding her hand into the wondrous, silky flood of unencumbered silvery hair. With that hand she gripped the nape of Elsa's neck, and with the other she cupped Elsa's chin, capturing the cobalt ocean of Elsa's eyes.
Those beloved eyes were so tortured, so divine!
"We have this," she whispered, before pulling Elsa's mouth onto hers.
There was no hesitation on Elsa's part. Elsa's lips clasped onto Anna's own as Anna began to kiss her. Anna needed to prove her devotion; she needed more than words to express the emotions that flung all rampant in her heart. So many words had been said this evening; now they needed action, to solidify and strengthen all these strange vibratory words.
Just as the night of the aurora, Elsa's hands lifted to tentatively grasp Anna's neck and shoulders as Anna's lips continued to slowly move against Elsa's.
For despite all they had said, Anna still felt a little scared and unsure. The kiss lasted only moments before her fragile courage began to fade. Delirious and a little frightened, Anna began to withdraw, sorrow and elation both cresting on the surge of her courageous tide.
Their lips separated for only a heartbeat, maybe two.
But then Elsa whimpered as she wrapped her arms around Anna's upper body and pressed her lips back against Anna's. Anna sharply inhaled as a soft and warm mouth completely covered hers; then there was no space left in her addled brain for anything remotely like thought, for Elsa's breasts were sweetly pressed against her own, and her hands roamed upward to delve into Anna's red hair, and her lips were moving like a conscious creature against Anna's; and Anna was swept up in a raging flood of arousal and desire, more incandescent than she believed possible at her age; Anna opened her mouth to breathe again and Elsa moved with her, allowing her this breath, this space, before taking her lips and tilting them, her hands gentle but oh so firm on Anna's face and neck as she kissed her yet again, her lips firmer now, her honeyed breath a tempest; Anna's whole healing body igniting somehow, silver and argent streaks of lightning raging down her recovered spine, bottoming out her stomach, flooding into the glorious depths of her pelvis; the depth of this need, of Elsa's longing was just a little too intense, and a small measure of fear again appeared in the back of Anna's throat.
It was too much, too soon.
Somehow Elsa must have sensed her minuscule distress, for she held Anna tight a moment longer, kissing her so very deeply one more time, before she pulled away.
Only to hold Anna once again in her arms; Anna felt her trembling. Oh, she could taste Elsa on her lips; she could still feel her own desire raging bright. This was exactly what she had been waiting for, all the many years of her life!
For the woman she loved was pressed against her body, and Anna felt Elsa thrumming underneath her own magnificent hands. "Forgive me," Elsa whispered into Anna's ear. "I didn't mean to scare you, I just… Anna, if you only knew what you do to me, how greatly I desire you. Oh, how I've wanted you!" Elsa softly chuckled a dire and low laugh as she momentarily clutched Anna even tighter.
"You need no forgiveness, not now, not ever," Anna breathed. "Oh, Elsa. How did you know I needed you tonight? How did you know I needed all of this?"
Elsa pulled away, though Anna could sense her reluctance in doing so. They looked each other in the eyes as Elsa said, "Because sometimes I'm smart enough to listen to the universe when it tells me to do something. Sometimes my intuition actually works. Oh, sweetheart, if I hadn't been so sick and confused today, I could have noticed your torment earlier. I could have spared you this pain." As if to punctuate her words, Elsa turned her face to her elbow and coughed weakly, just as she had been doing these last days of her illness.
"Pain is a gift like any other, Elsa. As you once told me, pain gives us boundaries for our endurance, and provides limits to our experience. It has never been your job to spare me pain. Indeed, I would have despised you as I despised all my other nurses if you had done so.
"Maybe… maybe the universe loves me, too. To bring me such beauty as you, Elsa, and these moments we are sharing… How I despised that stray cow that so radically altered my fate, how I cursed it and God all those months I sat in the hospital, my paralyzed legs in traction, my body erupting in sores, my spirit withering until all I wanted was death… I couldn't see you, Elsa. I couldn't see any of this. There was only darkness, only doubt. No beauty. No hope. No love."
Anna touched Elsa's cheek yet again as she spoke and then leaned forward to kiss Elsa once more, calmer now, more able to appreciate the softness and warmth of Elsa's lips. The sensation of wonder was so strong, erasing that last tiny thread of fear and trepidation. It helped that Elsa was just so incredibly kissable, in how her lips moved so gently in return.
When Anna withdrew, Elsa breathed slowly and deeply, her forehead once again against Anna's. "That's the very nature of the endless sea, sweetie," Elsa breathed. "We're not allowed to see what is on the other side. We have to operate on faith."
"Damn it," Anna swore with a smile.
Elsa laughed with her and then sat back. The firelight was so generous and lovely on her pearly skin.
Anna felt changed, as if the actual chemistry of her body had been altered. All her atoms seemed to vibrate in a new way, lifted from a previous emanation of existence to one completely new.
Perhaps this was part of what the sages referred to as transcendence!
Elsa unexpectedly laughed again, a light and joyous chuckle.
God, how Anna loved to hear Elsa laugh!
"What is it?" Anna asked.
"As I've said before, I'm no paragon, Anna. It wasn't exactly easy just barging into your thoughts and your room tonight. I would hate for you to have an overly exalted opinion of me. I'm just a woman, a flawed one at that, who occasionally happens to get things right."
"But you are mine now, aren't you?" Anna dared ask. Her great soul demanded it. Her universe cried out for truth, for belonging, for possession.
"Yes, honey. I am now, and always will be, only yours. I'll never love anyone but you for the rest of my life."
Anna couldn't tear her eyes away from Elsa's mouth. She wanted it again so badly.
She wanted Elsa's everything.
The universe that danced inside her love, she wanted to explore it, to touch it with her questioning fingers, with her curious tongue. She wanted to sit like bait inside the lion's mouth, to devour, and be devoured.
"Elsa, can I…"
"Anything, Anna. From now on, I will deny you nothing."
Anna felt so young, like the petal of a tulip newly unfurled. Her curiosity and hunger raged within her. "Darling, can I… can I explore you?"
"Dear god, yes."
Her heart still between those strong nourished teeth, Anna shifted her position and pulled Elsa further onto her bed, deliberately helping Elsa sit more comfortably, so conscious now of this choice, this woman so radiant and beautiful in the firelight before her, and then she once again grasped Elsa's face and neck with her sighing expectant hands before covering Elsa's mouth with her own. Elsa remained stiller and quieter than before, giving Anna a peaceful sacred space to experience every aspect of her lips and mouth. Anna caressed the nape of Elsa's neck as she kissed Elsa again and again, somewhat slow and decadent kisses, and Elsa was so responsive in her hands, so delightfully welcoming.
And Anna very quickly learned that Elsa would gasp in delight if Anna kissed her rather hard, and that Elsa's tongue, when she finally dared touch it with her own, was velvet and soft. She experienced the timbre of Elsa's breath when Anna tilted her mouth to kiss her from another angle; how that breath hitched in ecstasy as they kissed.
Oh, how incredibly young she felt, how vital!
Anna continued to explore Elsa's lips and with every moment that passed she grew bolder. Elsa was so pleasantly submissive beneath her, responding to Anna's every whim with more kisses, more sighs, more beloved hitches of breath. Only when she dared to nibble on Elsa's lower lip did her companion suddenly draw in a breath and pull so slightly away.
Before Anna could worry, Elsa shakily exhaled and whispered, her voice husky, "My god, Anna. If we don't stop now, I won't be able to stop."
Anna's courage, elation, and the universe of her desire all united into the words she spoke next. "Please, please don't stop. Oh, Elsa…"
Nothing could have prepared her for Elsa's ardent response. All signs of submission disappeared as Elsa's mouth clasped onto hers again, this time hot and hard and fierce. It was Anna's turn to gasp in delighted surprise as Elsa's arms wrapped around Anna's body, actually lifting her and pulling her downwards on the bed. Anna kept her hands on Elsa's neck, in her glossy silvery hair. Then down, down they both went, onto the bed, Anna's head on the pillow and Elsa above her, her body draped upon Anna's. Elsa's teeth grazed Anna's lower lip, and then she opened Anna's mouth with her insatiable tongue.
Ravenous for Elsa, Anna gasped in surprise and endless delight.
And Elsa dove inside, somehow Elsa slipped within her, with her tongue she parted Anna's lips and she appeared inside Anna's mouth, with abundant majesty, with celestial enchantment. Oh, what a delirious sensation this kiss aroused, as Elsa's tongue sought Anna's own.
Oh, how she pressed against Anna, how desperate was her inhalation, how lavish her lips, as she slid within Anna's mouth and her fingers delved in Anna's hair and her body pressed with such fervour, yet with such fragility and unsteadiness!
Then, even as she stroked Anna's tongue with her own, her hand began to drift lower, touching a beautifully sweet and sensitive spot on Anna's neck. Anna's flesh was displaced in a glorious shiver; it was a spot that Anna had never even known existed before.
Then Elsa lifted her hand, and placed it fully and completely on Anna's breast.
The consciousness of it was blinding; Anna's longing ruptured, and her desire became a spooling, writhing thing. She opened her mouth wider as Elsa's hand grasped her breast; when Elsa touched the tender tip of it, Anna broke their kiss as some aching love cry escaped her lips.
The intention of it fractured her.
There was no laudanum here, no fuzziness, no twilight of mixed unbearable emotions.
Elsa's beloved face was an inch from her own; she held Anna's breast in her hand and looked upon Anna like she was a treasure hidden across time, a hoard so carefully excavated and brought to precious light. She held Anna's breast as if there were no greater thing in all the world.
And then there was mischief on Elsa's face, the same mischief Anna had seen time and again.
Time momentarily ceased to have meaning.
Anna saw Elsa's mischievous face and thought of a lopsided vase of flowers, a basket of kittens, and honey drizzled baklava. She thought of sitting in the garden and seeing Elsa wearing trousers, walking her long-legged stride on her way to the stables. A hand lifted in greeting as gulls screeched overhead. Anna now realized that she had tasted desire for Elsa that very day.
Elsa grinned and then she let herself fall to the middle of the bed, her nightgown trailing over Anna's body. She urged Anna to move with her, until Elsa was on her back in the middle of the bed, and Anna was on her side, facing her.
Elsa reached for Anna again, drawing her mouth onto hers in a hard and fierce kiss. Anna could barely contain herself as she allowed herself to be deeply and thoroughly kissed. Somewhere within the kiss, she felt Elsa's hand move; she wrapped her hand around Anna's and spun it upwards, until Anna felt Elsa place her hand consciously and beautifully upon Elsa's own breast.
For the first time in her life, Anna felt this most beloved flesh under her sentient and inquisitive hand. She couldn't help herself; she lightly squeezed Elsa's breast, immediately astonished at the feel of it under her hand. Gods, how glorious it was!
It was Elsa's turn to rupture their kiss; she writhed underneath Anna and lifted her head in ecstasy, exposing her long and perfect neck. "Ohh," Elsa sighed, her voice rich and husky.
For months Anna had stared at that neck. Wanting it. Desiring it.
And now? It was hers.
Elsa was hers.
In looking at that neck and knowing it belonged to her, Anna knew that she had to touch it with her lips. There was truth embedded in Elsa's neck, and Anna's fingers weren't talented enough; this truth would require lips, and mouth, and tongue.
So Anna leaned forward, holding Elsa's neck with one hand as she pressed her lips against the hollow of Elsa's throat. She pressed hard, and then she opened her mouth and laved this beloved spot with the tip of her tongue, even as she tenderly squeezed Elsa's breast once more, running her thumb over the triumphantly aroused tip of it.
"My god, Anna," she unexpectedly heard Elsa whimper, her voice breathless. "I can't bear this. Anna, please…"
Anna heard her plaintive cry, and reluctantly lifted her head.
The fire was dying for lack of tending, and the light was becoming dim in her chamber. Elsa's eyes were darkened, and suddenly ancient and wounded. "Surely you must know what will come if we continue this way," Elsa whispered as she lifted a hand to caress Anna's cheek. "My darling, I hate to stop here, but I do not yet have the strength for love-making. Please forgive me…"
Anna pressed her finger against Elsa's lips. "Hush, my love. Let us no longer ask for forgiveness."
For a moment longer Anna looked at her lover, there in the gloaming firelight, the universe so sombre and resplendent in her eyes. Never in her life had Anna seen any woman so beautiful, so frail and so lovely.
For that is what she is now. Elsa Wolff is no longer your nurse and therapist. She is your lover, and you do not regret it.
Indeed, all you can do is bless it, and thank all the gods for it.
To have, to cherish, as long as possible, before finally letting go.
Elsa stayed quiet, her eyes somehow pleading.
I am no paragon, Anna.
No, she was no paragon. She was no knight, either, to carry Anna away on the pommel of an otherworldly horse, rescuing Anna from her troubles, taking her away from them.
Elsa was just a woman, but never would Anna look at her or any other human being the same way ever again, for now she knew of the singular universe that dwelled within every single soul, now she had become acquainted with the endless sea that inhabited every being; this knowledge of divinity to knock again and again at the doors of her consciousness, and Anna couldn't believe she had been gifted with courage enough to answer, that she had finally been able to say 'yes' to this woman and all Elsa would offer.
What else could she learn to say yes to?
What else could she experience, even in a small and transient way?
This opened door would change everything. Anna could feel it, down to the marrow of her perfect bones.
"Anna?" Elsa whispered, lifting a hand to tuck a wayward tendril of hair back behind Anna's ear. Her lips seemed slightly swollen with the intensity of Anna's kisses. "Tell me your thoughts. Please?"
What a marvellous question this was! Oh, to share the innermost thoughts and feelings with someone, surely this is what made people actual partners.
She already knew that Elsa greatly desired this, this sharing, this partnership. And, at this point, Anna would give Elsa anything she desired. She, too, would deny her nothing.
"My life has been a series of closed doors, Elsa," Anna breathed as she propped herself on her elbow so she could look into Elsa's eyes. She kept her hand on Elsa's breast as she continued; "Having you in my life has knocked upon every closed and locked door of my consciousness. I never knew my own divinity. I never realized my perfection. What a diminished, lesser creature I had always been compared to the epitome of my husband, Hans. But then the accident came, and then you came, and you taught me everything. Everything I had been missing. Can you ever comprehend what a blessing you are? Can you understand what you mean to me?"
When Anna leaned down to kiss Elsa again, it was as if the thinnest of veils separated her from her lover, a veil that Anna recognized.
For Elsa bore at least one last great secret, something about a book, something about lightning.
Something about this illness, that had rendered her near helpless for a number of days.
But as Anna withdrew from this last kiss, and saw the abject thanksgiving in Elsa's eyes, she finally understood the power of words.
Earlier, when she had finally admitted her own love for Elsa, she had seen what those words had done. And now, to reiterate Elsa's worth in Anna's eyes, Anna realized something.
Sometimes words were useless, and action was all that was required. A kiss, perhaps, when a kiss was needed.
Yet sometimes words were all that mattered.
For words were vibration.
And the great spinning universe itself swirled endlessly upon vibration. For what was the universe but a billion billion endless seas, the thoughts and utterings of a billion billion humans and animals and trees, and the ecstatic spinning of atoms within every living thing?
God, never had Anna ever imagined that her words of love could provide the foundation for the very universe itself, that her feelings toward another human could positively impact the very spinning of the stars in the firmament.
Anna looked upon her beloved, her Elsa, and her heart somehow expanded even further in love, a great and expansive love like Yggdrasil of old; a tree whose roots extended into the past, whose branches and fruit projected into the future, whose trunk was so vast it could withstand any thunderstorm.
Even the thunderstorm of their different stations, and how they could not be the perfect partners they each so desired. Some tempest would eventually tear them apart, and force them to go their separate ways.
For Elsa could not stay. Once Anna was healed, Elsa would leave her. Elsa herself had said it, and Anna knew it was the truth.
Even now, Anna could not bear that thought, so she focused on Elsa's presence instead. She was in love with Elsa, and Elsa was in love with her.
For this moment, it was more than enough.
So she stroked Elsa's lower lip with her thumb and whispered, "Can you see me, Elsa? Can you see how much I love you? How much I adore you?"
Elsa lifted her hand, to touch the pale scar on Anna's forehead, before tracing Anna's ear and then cupping her jaw; her finger was a firebrand on Anna's skin. God, did her fever yet remain?
"Oh, yes," Elsa murmured. "I see you. I see it all."
And then Elsa leaned forward to kiss Anna once more, soft and lingering.
When Elsa withdrew, Anna realized that her lover was only dimly lit by firelight. The last coals of the fire were winking out, and Anna ached for sleep.
But in this moment, and in every moment to come, Anna could not bear to be parted from her.
Scarborough was a bubble. And, for now, she would happily dwell in the nucleus of it. She cared not for the future bursting. The now was enough.
"Elsa, will you stay with me through the night? Will you hold me?"
"What if I cough?" Elsa unexpectedly said, her voice small and embarrassed. "What if my legs jerk, and I wake you?"
"Then cough. Wake me. Kiss me as payment. And we'll sleep again. Together."
Elsa smiled. "I'm so glad to hear it. Because nothing would make me happier than sleeping with you."
Elsa slipped out of her robe, revealing a satin nightgown that left her shoulders bare. Anna felt another wave of desire rush through her at the thought of sleeping next to Elsa; the same sleep she had denied herself the night of Elsa's illness. Anna also shrugged out of her robe and then settled into the sheets. She felt awkward and nervous and strangely shy.
Elsa quickly plaited her hair into a braid, and then reached for the spare pillow, fluffing it before lying upon it. Then she lifted the sheet just a little and crooned, "Come to me, baby."
Anna crept close to Elsa, there in the silky welcoming darkness, Elsa's arm outstretched, her body open and ready to receive her. Anna nestled close to her, put her head on Elsa's shoulder and draped her arm over Elsa's stomach and breast. "Is this all right?" she breathed into Elsa's ear.
Elsa wrapped her arms around her and held her close. "Yes." Elsa took a long inhale and exhale; Anna felt herself move up and down with the depth of it. "Oh, how amazing it is to hold you, to have you in my arms. Are you sure I'm not dreaming all of this?"
Anna craned her neck upwards to gently kiss Elsa's lips once more, even as she softly squeezed that beautiful breast in her hand. Elsa made a sound of pure delight.
"This is no dream," Anna said, though those words occupied some other space in her memory. Elsa said them, that night of the great shiver. She had said other words as well.
(I'm dying, sweetheart
my world is ending)
"Sleep now, my darling," Anna continued. "For I'll be here when you wake. We're together now."
Elsa's eyes were already drifting shut, her limbs becoming soft and loose. "Good night, Anna," she muzzily whispered.
"Good night, Elsa."
So Elsa fell asleep. Her arms fell away from Anna.
Yet Anna remained where she was, nestled against Elsa's warm and supple body. She rose and fell with Elsa's breath. She felt the endless thrum of Elsa's energy under the palm of her hand and was so grateful she finally recognized the true source of that energy.
Their endless seas, their singular universes, would merge for a time before drifting apart.
For that was the way of things.
And Anna was strong enough to bear it.
...
Author's Note: my dear readers, I agonized over this chapter, I wrote it again and again. I do not have this love, this relationship that these beloved characters share. But I believe in it. I believe it is real. The truths I spoke of, the endless sea I've mentioned, this is something I have discovered for myself. I hope and pray that you can also discover it. It will change everything, if you let it.
I am the endless sea. And so are you.
-Jen