Note: Warning: there IS sexual content in this chapter. You can skip this chapter, it will have no impact on your understanding of the story. I love writing these scenes because you can really see the characters connect with each other on a new level. I hope you like it! Please leave a review! have a great day :)

Chapter 21: Peaceful Cocoon

Jack had been quiet all evening. His parents and Emma had left in a hurry, Martha kissing her son and- to Elsa's surprise and delight- Elsa herself. She'd told them there was food in the fridge, commanded Jack not to forget about the horses, and assured them that they'd hurry home as soon as possible. With luck, they'd be back tomorrow night, so they could at least have a Christmas supper together.

With that, the three of them had climbed onto a rickety carriage that didn't have a roof, and taken off just as dusk was falling over the farm.

They had eaten in the living room, where Jack had told her a bit about his grandmother. Elsa had listened in rapt silence, her heart aching when he dropped his gaze. She suspected he didn't want her to see his worry or tears.

They'd ended up on the couch, his head on her lap. She'd played gently with his hair until he'd fallen asleep.

They'd stayed like that all night- which, Elsa thought grimly would explain why her body was aching so much. She groggily opened her eyes. Jack was still sleeping, and she looked down at his face, smoothed by peaceful slumber. She traced the lines of his nose and jaw, studying the way his lashes laid against his cheek.

Just the two of them. Here, in this house. She blushed a bit at the thought.

Gently, she lifted his head, so as to liberate her legs- so stiff she wondered if they'd be able to carry her upstairs- and shuffled out of the couch.

She really needed a shower.

…

When she came down again, her hair braided and wearing an oversized woolly Christmas jumper with a gingerbread man on it, which of course belonged to Jack, and black leggings, she took in the sounds and smells of someone making breakfast from the kitchen.

She closed her eyes, listening to the sound of his footsteps around the kitchen, trying to memorise it.

It made her very sad, suddenly, that this might be the only morning of their lives that Jack and herself would be alone, in a house, cooking breakfast as if they were an old married couple.

She told herself to snap out of it. She wouldn't torture herself about this when it was far too late to stop it anyway.

She climbed down the staircase quickly, taking the steps two by two, and bounded into the kitchen. Jack turned, setting down the sizzling pan and-

'Pancakes,' she squealed when she realised where the wondrous smell came from. Jack laughed. He strode to her, giving her a sweet, swift kiss on the temple.

'Merry Christmas, Snowflake,' he said, grinning. 'You will be glad to know,' he continued, passing her to grab a jar of maple syrup from the shelf, 'that I have decided that no moping is allowed today. We are going to find something fun to do.'

'Hear hear,' she said around the pancake already in her mouth.

'I like seeing you in my clothes,' was his only answer.

…

Something fun, she thought. She should have known that regarding Jack, fun was synonym to dangerous and foolish. Oh, and completely reckless and stupid.

Jack had had the fantastical idea that since Elsa knew how to ride, how perfectly lovely would it be if they tried to race.

And by lovely, Elsa knew he meant: Dangerous. Foolish. Completely reckless. And stupid stupid stupid.

Either Jack had never learnt the rules of horse-racing, or he simply didn't care. Elsa had the strong suspicion it was the latter as Jack streaked past her, giving a whoop of exhilaration when he urged his horse to jump from the riverbank across the streaming waters, which was no small feat, even for an experimented rider. Elsa gritted her teeth. It was too late to slow down the horse now. The mare would probably throw her off and she'd plunge into the freezing waters.

She closed her eyes as they neared that perilous spot, trying to ignore the way her stomach lurched and twisted when she felt her horse's hooves leap into thin air-

She braced for the feeling of cold water surrounding her, swallowing her whole-

Instead, the impact of landing rang through her spine, and she opened her eyes, realising she'd bent forwards, clutching the horse's mane tightly in her fingers. How her instructor would cringe to see the incorrectness of her posture. She straightened her spine, scowling at Jack, grinning from ear-to-ear as he watched her come back to her senses.

'You could have gotten us killed,' she snapped.

'Ah but see Snowflake, you lived to tell the tale,' he grinned. She rolled her eyes, but couldn't resist the smile fighting to rise to her lips. She looked around.

Gosh, it was beautiful.

White snow stretched in every direction, as far as the eye could see. Sun-rays played in the water behind them, and when water hit the rocks and drops of it splashed, rainbows appeared seemingly out of thin air.

Jack had gotten down from his horse, and made his way to her. She watched him come, feeling almost like she was dreaming. He looked like the son of a magical Snow Queen.

'What is it?' He asked when he caught her staring.

'Nothing,' she said quickly, letting him help her off the horse (although she didn't really need him, but savoured the light touch of his fingers around her waist).

She was standing in front of him. His twinkling blue eyes hit her like a blow. She grabbed his arm, digging her nails into the skin underneath his blue sweater. How he wasn't shivering was a mystery. She was freezing.

His gaze shifted from a tinge of worry to something like wonder, looking down at her face. She didn't know if he knew- if he felt- what she did in that moment. No-one around for miles, just them and this… this feeling, feeling of belonging-

Elsa broke the spell, letting go of his arm and letting his arm drop.

Elsa had known, ever since that day she'd finally yielded to her desire for him in the dungeons, that their relationship had an expiration date. With every look, every touch, every kiss, she was breaking the sacred rules that had been so carefully laid out for her, ever since she was a toddler. The royal family of Arendelle was deeply religious and rooted in tradition; on her wedding day, Elsa knew she had to be pure, untouched. Not necessarily in a sexual way, but in every way.

And she'd spent her whole life thinking that she'd marry whomever her parents chose for her, whoever was best for Arendelle, and that the day her hand would be given in marriage, she would have accepted the idea of never knowing true love.

But Jack… she felt like she'd been floating her entire life, and even when people looked at her they didn't really see her. But Jack saw her. Jack touched her. And she'd been hiding behind the pretence that it meant nothing, that it was nothing more than a teenage romance, that would be over the second her feet left the school grounds.

But here she was. In this beautiful countryside, with the crisp air in her lungs and her cheeks tinged pink from the cold. She'd just spent the happiest couple of days of her life, with the most amazing person she'd ever met by her side. He'd shown her his life, he'd introduced her to his mother, watched her play with his sister, taught her to chop wood and build a fire with his father.

And she didn't know what to do now.

…

Jack whistled, securing the horses back into their boxes, mindful of locking the padlocks and slipping the key into his pocket. They'd been out for the whole day riding, and Jack had half-expected his parents to be back when the horses had padded into the farm.

But there was no sign of the carriage they used in winter, the roads too dangerous to use a car. And no sign of either his parents, or Emma. He'd hoped they'd at least drop Emma off, so that they might spend Christmas together.

He sighed, stepping out onto the snow. And froze.

From where he was standing, he could see through the window in the kitchen. Elsa was heating up their dinner, a shawl around her shoulders and her blond hair loose, framing her face and seeming to glow in the candlelight. He blinked.

The day they'd just had together… Alone in the snow, riding for miles then stopping for quick rests… He'd felt completely free. Nothing held him back with her. Nothing could ever. And she'd told him about her sister, yesterday. That must have counted for something.

He was falling for her. So hard and fast he felt like the feeling had no end. He'd been falling for her at Hogwarts, of course, but bringing her here had- accelerated things. Given them a new kind of intimacy. And he was terrified that she'd run.

Because now, no matter what happened, he wasn't going anywhere. He was stuck with her.

When he trudged into the kitchen, kicking his muddy boots off as he went, he came up behind her. She had his back to him, adding salt to a steaming pot of stew on the countertop. He twined his hands around her waist and gently rested his head on her shoulder. After a moment of stiffened surprise, she relaxed and leant back into him.

'Didn't know you could cook, Snowflake,' he whispered, before giving in to the temptation of gently biting her ear.

'This is hardly what I call cooking,' she said, and he was glad to hear she sounded a bit breathless. 'I'm just heating something up.'

'We could bake tonight,' he said. 'I could teach you the recipe for the best chocolate cake you have or will ever taste in your life.'

'Or,' she said, speaking softly as she turned in his arms. She twined her arms around his neck. 'We could do something else.'

He knew his eyes widened with surprise. He was pressing her into the counter, almost unconsciously.

'What do you mean, something else?,' he asked, not bothering to hide the teasing edge to his voice.

She didn't answer. And he stopped caring when she raised herself on tiptoes, and brought her mouth to his.

Kissing her like this was- unbelievable.

Yes, they'd kissed before. It had been an unleashing when they'd kissed in the dungeons, a cry-out of desperation for each other, after months of wanting to act on his feelings for her. It had been quick and sweet, the kisses they'd shared here. There had been deep, longing kisses too, in the month they'd been together.

But none had been like this. Open. No end to it in sight. Soft and sweet, but also promising more, more, more. He felt like they could go on forever.

He groaned in her mouth as she bit his lip, not hard enough to hurt but-

'Elsa,' he panted as her lips left his. 'Snowflake.'

It was so quiet around them. There was only them. He bent, kissing her neck gently, reverently. She grabbed his upper-arms. She gasped when his nose grazed her collarbone.

'I want-' she started. 'Jack, I want-'

He wanted her so much it almost hurt. He could feel the ache of his desire for her building.

'What?' He asked, his lips grazing her skin. 'What do you want? Tell me.' He kissed her on the lips, softly. He lingered, forming the words, lips-to-lips. 'I'll oblige you.' Another kiss. 'I'll oblige you until you forget about everything else.'

…

What do you want?

'I want you,' she murmured, cupping his face. His eyes were clouded by desire and the fact that he desired her as much as she did him made another pulse of longing course through her body.

She didn't know if it was the day they'd just had, or knowing that no-one else was around for miles for the first time since they'd even begun dating, or if it was because of this feeling that this was somehow not real life, that they were both cocooned together in a lovely dream, a pocket of space that was not quite in this world- but she didn't feel any hesitation.

She wanted to be with him. She needed to be with him. She wanted to know how it would feel, for them to be together completely, crossing that final line together.

'But I've never-'

'I haven't either,' he answered. His gaze was unflinching, and she blushed. She knew what he wasn't saying, but wanted her to know. It was always the same with him.

We're in this together.

'What if-' she started, then bit her lip, forcing herself to voice her doubts aloud. 'What if I'm not good at it?'

Jack snorted. 'You couldn't be not good at it if you tried, Snowflake.'

'But what if I am?' Elsa insisted.

'Then I wouldn't care,' he said, no hint of amusement in his voice now. 'I would make myself be worse than you. We can be horrible at sex together.'

Elsa laughed softly. 'Maybe you're already worse than me.'

'Me?' Jack frowned and opened and clothed his mouth several times in outrage. Elsa had to resist the urge to laugh. 'I am the best lover a girl could hope for, Elsa.'

'Someone thinks highly of himself.'

'Let me show you,' he said leaning back down to her, pressing her into the counter so that she felt its edge dig into her skin, and his body pressing into hers, 'Just how highly I think of myself.'

They kissed again. She egged him on, taking him deeper into her mouth, tangling her hands into his hair as he held her nape, keeping her lips to him. When his other hand drifted lower, bringing their bodies closer so that she could feel how he wanted her-

She arched, a small moan dragging from her throat. She felt him smile at the sound.

'We should eat,' he muttered. 'Before I'm unable to resist dragging more of those exquisite sounds from you.'

He stepped out of her arms, looking like it was the last thing he wanted to do and Elsa watched him go. She listened to the sound of his footsteps going up the stairs, then the sound of the water turning on as he stepped into the shower.

She wouldn't say no to a cold, freezing shower herself.

…

They ate in silence, at opposite ends of the table. Elsa had decided that it wasn't a good idea for them to be in touching distance while eating; for the sake of the table, Jack agreed.

The tension was palpable. They watched each other constantly. Elsa's face looked permanently flushed. He watched the way she swallowed, the way her throat moved.

He was almost trembling with the force of holding back from her by the time they finished eating. He did the dishes while Elsa cleaned the table of crumbs.

He emerged from the kitchen, not quite sure how he was still standing up. His mind was racing. He was overthinking this. But God, he didn't want to get it wrong.

She was waiting for him in the centre of the living room. He made himself stop before he reached her.

'Are you sure?' Jack made himself ask.

She nodded. 'Are you?'

I don't think I could ever be ready.

This wasn't just some random girl. This was Elsa. His Elsa.

He nodded.

She crossed the last few steps between them and kissed him gently. His hands went to her waist almost automatically, and he felt himself relax underneath her touch.

'I want you,' she said again, almost as if she knew how much he needed her to say it again. What it did to him to hear those words come out of her lovely, soft mouth.

He grabbed her hand tightly.

'Come with me,' he said.

They practically ran up the stairs and into his room, and he closed the door behind him, trying- and failing- to keep his breathing even.

'Jack,' she said, but he turned back to her and kissed her, leaving no room for hesitation. They stumbled backwards, not breaking the kiss until Elsa fell back onto his bed. She grabbed his wrist and pulled him down on top of her.

They grew breathless, panting, Jack losing all sense of reality. There was now a hint of desperation in their embrace. He stood upon his knees, removing his shirt before coming back down again, claiming her mouth. He helped her do the same, and when she lifted her hips, he removed her leggings and those adorable woollen socks-

She was unbuckling his belt with trembling hands. He chuckled. She scowled at him, but he kissed her, shaking off the damn pants and then-

They were skin to skin. Jack understood all at once why people made such a big deal out of this. He couldn't get enough of tracing her skin, teasing her with his mouth, his hands-

'I'm going to take my time,' he said, mouthing the words against her belly-button. 'I'm going to take my sweet time with you.'

She moaned. He teased her with his fingers, his tongue and a slight hint of teeth until-

She arched underneath him, crying out as she came for him. He could feel her body quiver, her climax shuddering through her. He rose back up to her face, kissing her neck and jawline until she stopped shaking.

She opened her eyes, looking up at him, the deep blue of them visible in the darkness. Without a word, she reached for him. He stopped breathing. They didn't break eye-contact as she touched him. He bowed his head at her caress, the pleasure he was giving him almost too much.

'Elsa,' he groaned. She didn't stop. She kept going and damn him her fingers-

Gently he reached down, grabbing her slender wrist and bringing it next to her face. He did the same with the other one. Then, he looked at her.

One final question.

She nodded.

He could have burst into flames at that moment, if the human body was capable of such a thing. Gently, so gently, he nudged her thighs apart and they rose up around him, latching onto his hips.

He buried himself inside her.

…

There had been no end to it. To the pleasure, yes but- it had been more than that. So much more-. The incredible feeling of being with him, letting herself forget who she was and where she'd been, the world starting and stopping then starting again as he'd moved his hips, the way she'd taken him deeper and deeper with every thrust-

Elsa was in a daze. Jack had fallen asleep, his head on her stomach, his hair falling on her skin. She looked up at the ceiling, trying to make sense of what had just passed between them.

She fell asleep before she could.

…

Jack woke up in the middle of the night, to find Elsa watching him. They made love again, gently, sleepily. This time, she fell asleep before he did, her head nestled in the crook of his shoulder. He watched her breathing until he surrendered to sleep as well.

…

She woke up, reaching for Jack before she realized it. He wasn't there.

She sat up, looking around at the room, the clothes on the floor, the dishevelled sheets.

What a mess they'd made. In more than one sense.

She swept her hair out of her face, not bothering to braid it back or even brush it. She got out from underneath the covers, rummaged in Jack's clothes until she found an extremely comfortable-looking oversized jumper and slid it on. Then, she picked up her leggings from the floor and shrugged them on too. She supposed she didn't really need to bother- Jack had seen all of it last night. And she had too. But, somehow, the fact that he hadn't been there when she'd woken up had made her nervous. Also, it was way too cold to prance around the house with bare legs.

She stepped out onto the landing, into the bathroom and splashed cold water on her face. Then, she went downstairs.

Jack wasn't in the living room or the kitchen either, although there was a plate full of freshly-made pancakes. She grabbed one before stepping out of the door.

There was still no sign of Jack's parents. Which was a good thing, she supposed, squinting her eyes at the sliding reflection of the morning sun on the snow. She would have been mortified if they'd been there while she slipped out of Jack's room. There would be no denying what had happened last night.

Not that she wanted to deny it. It had been a claiming. He'd whispered it to her, over and over again, the words floating up into the night.

I'm yours.

And she was his.

…

She found him in the stables. She called out for him and heard him answer from the second floor- she climbed the rickety stairs (who looked like they were likely to collapse at any moment).

He looked like the caricature of a farm boy: messy hair, fork in hand, clearing the hay into neat piles.

'Hi,' she said. He smiled softly, setting the fork against the wall and wiping his hands against his trousers before coming to her. She wasn't sure how to act, so she was glad when he took the lead. He gave her a gentle kiss on the corner of her lips, and ruffled her hair.

'Hi,' he said.

Everything was completely different, and yet utterly the same in the light of day.

'You weren't in bed this morning,' she said.

'I didn't want to wake you.' His thumbs were shyly tracing her palm. She thought about what those fingers had done last night and blushed. He grinned, as if he knew exactly what was going through her mind.

'You could've.'

'I will next time.' His eyes flashed.

Next time.

…

Jack's parents came back that evening. Emma sprinted into the house and had stopped dead when she saw Jack and Elsa in the kitchen.

They were laughing so hard they hadn't even noticed Emma. And they were both completely covered in flour. From head to toe.

'At least we know,' Jack said, breathless from all the laughing, 'That we should never ever ever bake together.'

Martha coughed from the doorway. Elsa abruptly stopped laughing, watching Jack's mother take in the mess.

'I'm sorry, Mrs. Overland-' she started at the same moment Jack said 'It was my fault Mum-'

'It's fine,' she said, waving her hand in a careless gesture. Elsa had the strong impression she was trying very hard not to smile. 'Just clean it up.'

…

It turned out that his grandmother's fever had broken. She was fine, albeit too weak to travel. So, his mother told him, they'd decided to spend Christmas with her, and have a late Christmas when they come back to the farm.

He felt a bit guilty- after that first night, when he'd worried himself sick until he'd fallen asleep with his head in Elsa's lap, he'd barely thought about it at all. He'd tried not to think about it, true, but he'd also gotten so lost in Elsa that it hadn't been hard to not think about it.

And it should've been.

Regardless, she was fine, and Jack vowed to himself to visit her before going back to Hogwarts. Maybe Elsa would come with him.

They had supper, Emma chattering loudly about their grandmother's cat, who'd apparently given birth to four healthy kittens.

They opened up presents. Jack was delighted to see that his mother gifted Elsa a lovely blue scarf, that went marvellously with her eyes. Jack got a new quill and Chocolate Frogs. Emma got a doll that could talk and walk around on its own. Jack personally found it a bit creepy, but Emma loved it, which was what counted. His parents had waved away Elsa's apology that she didn't have anything for them, seeing as they'd left Hogwarts in such a hurry, telling her that she would make it up to them next year.

Jack grinned.

Then, her mother called for everyone to go to bed, and yes Jack you too, because Emma will never accept to go to bed if you're still up and she needs the sleep.

Jack sighed, making a show of rolling his eyes at Elsa before planting a chaste goodnight kiss on her cheek.

…

Elsa gave up on sleeping, stumbling out of bed. It was near one, and she wasn't any closer to falling asleep as she'd been when she'd fallen into bed a few hours before. Careful to not make a sound, she opened her door, crept into the landing and quietly opened Jack's room.

The shutters were open, moonlight streaming in. He was sprawled on the bed, the covers kicked back (she had no idea how he did it- he must be freezing) and looked like a beautiful ghost.

Slowly, wary of waking him, she slipped into his bed, next to him. He sleepily turned, his nose brushing her shoulder as his arm fell sleepily over her waist, tucking her close. She nestled into him, sighing with contentment, savouring the heat of his body.

Sleep found her quickly after that.

…

Elsa hadn't seen the time go by. But soon enough, the holidays were coming at an end, their clothes packed, Jack's father ready to take them to the station while Martha was tearfully hugging her both.

'Elsa it was a pleasure having you with us for the holidays,' she said, patting Elsa's cheek in a motherly gesture. 'I hope you'll come back soon.'

'Thank you so much for having me,' she answered, 'It was wonderful.'

'No trouble at all.'

Jack was helping his dad get the trunks onto the carriage. He climbed onto it in a swift movement. With a last hug to Emma, Elsa joined him. Jack gave her a hand, hauling her up.

'So,' he asked. 'Ready to go back to Hogwarts?' He slid his hand in hers, intertwining their fingers.

She looked back at the farm, slowly sliding away from view. She'd only been there for two weeks, but she already missed it. For what it meant, for what had happened here, it would always hold a special place in her heart.

She turned back to Jack, brushing a strand of white hair out of his eyes. She squeezed his hand. Moments flashed in her mind- Jack kissing her, Jack running his hand through her hair, leaving streaks of flour in it, Jack making love to her on the stable-floor, when she'd turned up with lemonade at noon- Jack.

'Ready,' she said.