Anna watched the door close behind Elsa. She sat in her chair, staring at the door without seeing it, trying to figure out what was right and what was in her heart. But in a moment the door opened again and Elsa rushed to her.
Anna sprang up. "What is it?"
And without preamble Elsa kissed her, holding her close, soothing Anna's hunger to love and be loved, to desire and be desired.
Elsa broke off the kiss and held Anna at arm's length, gazing at her. "Anna, I need you to know. That I love you. And I need to know that you're all right."
The discomfort in Anna's chest eased. She smiled back at Elsa. "Yes. Yes I am. Thank you. And I love you too." She stepped out of Elsa's grasp. "Now go find Ingrid and talk her down." She winced. "I mean, talk to her and calm her down. Okay?"
Elsa smiled and nodded. "Okay." She left again.
Anna sighed, still smiling. Then, in an instant, she scowled. "Dammit! That's what I should've done!" She paced, muttering to herself. "Elsa tells me that Kristoff didn't cheat on me and I jump off and run to try to fix what I screwed up, and I left Elsa sitting there, feeling...feeling the way I was feeling just now. I'm such a jerk!" She grunted in frustration. "I have got to talk to her about this." Anna took a step towards the door, then stopped herself. "Not right now, duh. But I have got to get this right." She looked around for pen and paper, which did not take long in Elsa's rooms.
talk 2 E-should've done now like her when
She started to write K, then realized that she might forget the paper somewhere and she couldn't give too much away. She turned the K into an asterisk and continued.
broccoli-go, come back, , go, NOT just go. or then go. not just go. talk 2 her
She blotted the note, folded it, and stashed it in a pocket.
Elsa closed the doors behind her, turned right, and strode purposefully down the hall despite not having a clear idea of where Ingrid would be. A Queen is confident. A Queen is bold. A Queen is just. They were words she had copied a thousand times in her handwriting lessons. Even as a child she was being prepared to lead. It was as much a part of her as washing her face or fastening her shoes.
A Queen is lost.
She wasn't lost lost. With all the years she spent never daring to leave the castle, she knew its hallways backwards and forwards. But she didn't know where Ingrid would be. She walked past the supply closet where she had gone with Ingrid so long ago - where Ingrid had led her - for a few minutes of frantic fumbling after Elsa had been accidentally over-agitated by Anna. She put her hand on the door handle. It was privacy, but the associations...
She opened the door. It was dark and unoccupied, the stale air full of the scents of waxes and polishes and lye, flooding her with memories of that afternoon, a pulse of heat clenching in Elsa's belly catching her unawares. At the time, Elsa's heart and body were filled with desperate lust for Anna, her thoughts filled with Anna. But it was Ingrid who led her into that cramped closet, barely more than a locker. It was Ingrid whose wrists she had pinned, whose thighs she had parted. It was Ingrid's hands under her dress, Ingrid's body singing under her hands, Ingrid's hot breath in her ear, Ingrid's mouth hungrily marking her neck.
Elsa pulled her head from the closet and closed the door, fresh air clearing her lungs and brain. She pressed a cool hand to her forehead.
It occurred to her that since having Ingrid move into her rooms, Ingrid didn't have a space to call her own. But she'd had one before.
Elsa opened a plain door at the end of the corridor and descended a tight, twisting stairway to a hallway, floor and walls bare, doors unornamented. The halls were less than half as wide as she was used to, the ceiling only an arm's reach over her head. This was servant territory.
She touched the whitewashed wall as she walked, then clasped her hands for fear of leaving a smudge. For a moment she got turned around, before straightening herself out. I wish Anna was here. Anna was familiar with these hallways, having spent much of her childhood following the servants around in order to have someone to talk to, to stave off the isolation. Probably what kept her sane. Elsa paused to consider what that said about herself.
She felt large and conspicuous as she walked quietly to what used to be Ingrid's room. She tapped at the door. "Hello?"
She tried the door. It was closed but not locked. She slipped inside. There were three narrow beds. An oil lamp, extinguished, rested on a chest of drawers. The only decorations were a plaster crucifix, painted, and a hand-tinted woodcut print of herself in a glassless frame. And most importantly Ingrid, sitting on the farthest bed, a small box in her lap.
"Hello, Ingrid," Elsa said gently.
Ingrid stood, placing the box on the-on her bed. "Hello."
For want of something to do, Elsa ran her finger idly along the top of the chest of drawers; worn, but spotlessly clean of course. She tried to picture Ingrid and her roommates living in this tiny, windowless room. She tried to imagine herself living like this, in close quarters with two other women, day after day. It was alien, but it wouldn't be lonely.
"Shall we?" asked Elsa, indicating the bed.
They sat on the edge of the bed, angled towards each other.
"Well," said Elsa, "that was...quite a kiss."
"Are you unhappy?" said Ingrid.
"Not about the kiss, no."
Ingrid sat up a little straighter. "I try to do what's right."
"I know."
"Sometimes I do something I don't know is right."
"Like just now."
"Like the first time I kissed you."
Elsa smiled. "Under the mistletoe. I remember. Well, of course I remember."
"I told myself that the rules said you can kiss under the mistletoe, but I didn't really believe it. I try to follow the rules, but sometimes I-"
"You follow your heart," said Elsa.
"I was going to say that I lose control, but that's not exactly true. I knew what I was doing. And I didn't know if it was the right thing. But I did it."
Elsa patted Ingrid's hand. "And it's a good thing you did."
Ingrid looked directly in her eyes. "I hope so. I believe so. I could be wrong."
"I-" Elsa licked her dry lips. "I don't think you were wrong. It complicated things-they complicated things, our first kiss and our last- our latest one. But they were good." She smiled slyly. "In both senses."
Ingrid sighed. "Good. I'm glad." She turned away and ran her hand over the box sitting behind her on the bed. "If I may ask, what do we do now?"
Elsa gently stroked Ingrid's back, her hand resting on the mattress. "I don't know. Not in the grand scheme of things," she said, shrugging. "But I have something I'd like you to do for me."
She turned to face Elsa, once again looking directly at her. "Anything."
Ingrid's gaze was so serious that her devotion landed on Elsa's heart like a lead weight. Elsa swallowed. "You know The Summerhouse?"
Ingrid nodded. "I know of it." It was a hunting lodge well outside the capital, cradled by thick forest. It hadn't been used in years, when it had been used more as a cottage than a lodge, although by non-royal standards it would be considered a stately home.
"As soon as is convenient, I'd like you to go up there with a couple of servants and make it presentable. Dust, air it out. You know. Make it presentable. I'd like you to take a month to do it."
"With a couple of good workers I think it could be ready in two weeks. If you assigned some hands from the stables as well you could go by this weekend."
"No, Ingrid." Elsa put a firm, calming hand on Ingrid's. "I want you to take a month."
Ingrid closed her eyes and the corners of her mouth began to drift downwards. "You want to get rid of me."
"No. That's not it." Elsa shifted position and smoothed her skirt. "I want you-look at me-I want you to take some time by yourself. Away from me. To think about what you want, what you really want for yourself."
"But I know that. I want to be with you."
"Ingrid, I love you. And you have blossomed beautifully since I met you, which I hope I had something to do with-"
"You did."
"But I want you to have something in your life that is yours. A little piece of Ingrid that is Ingrid, not the castle's chambermaid or the queen's amanuensis or...Elsa's lover. You."
Ingrid's mouth opened then closed, as she wrestled with finding the right words. "I was born to serve. You were born to rule, Anna was born to be a hero, and I was born to serve. I don't know if it's how I was raised or how I was made, but all the way to my core I am a follower. I think you're afraid of my losing who I am. But this is who I am. I want to devote my life to you, whom I love." Her brow furrowed. In a near-whisper she said, "Whom? Or who?"
Elsa patted her hand again. "Whom is correct, but who is fine for casual conversation. But that's not important."
"It would be different if you were a man."
Elsa leaned back a little as she raised an eyebrow. "A lot of things would be different if I were a man."
Ingrid shook her head in frustration. She waved a hand vaguely. "Men marry women."
Elsa bit her tongue and nodded.
Ingrid waved her hand again. "All over. And the man is a farmer, or a baker, or a schoolteacher, or a king, or whatever he is. And his wife devotes herself to him."
"Really?" said Elsa, unable to help herself, even in this serious moment.
"That's what's said. That's what's expected. People say that's the way things ought to be, and it's right for some people and wrong for others, but it's what's expected. And it would be perfect for me. If you were a man. And would have me, which would still be impossible, but that's my dream. To be your devoted wife. Or as close as I can be."
"Is that the way your parents are? Is your mother not her own person?"
Ingrid bit her lip as she thought. "My parents are not exactly that way, no. My mother is her own person, in her way."
"And I know my parents were...they were partners. My mother was definitely her own person."
"Because your father said so?"
Elsa raised a finger to make a point, but put it to her own lips instead. Ingrid wasn't completely wrong. By law and custom, her father had the power. He shared it with his wife, but it was his to share. She started to think about the implications of this, then caught herself. (She made a mental note to come back to that later.) "I would like to bring us back to the subject, which is...um, us."
Slowly, Ingrid said, "If I may, and if I understand you, you want to make sure that I am my own person."
Elsa nodded. "Yes."
"And you are afraid I won't be, because I would rather be your person."
"Yes."
"So you want me to go away."
"No, Ingrid. I want you to come back. I want you to step out of my shade for a while, and find yourself, and come back to me knowing who you are."
Ingrid blinked in confusion. She wasn't used to anyone caring about who she was, and she'd never thought about it for herself. "I will have to think about this. But it may take a while."
Elsa smiled. "About a month? Roughly."
Ingrid smiled back. "Yes. Roughly."
Elsa stood to go, and glanced again at the small box on Ingrid's bed. Her treasures. She almost asked what was in it, but pulled in the reins on her curiosity. Maybe that'll be the grain of sand at the middle of her pearl. "I'll see you later. And before you go, let's sort out getting you a space of your own."
Ingrid stood. "Thank you, Elsa."
And as Elsa left she was proud to see that Ingrid hadn't even thought of curtsying.
