Chapter twenty-one

The wrong idea

The old man was bleeding heavily now, but he seemed to have accepted his fate. He pressed forward with his silver knife, slicing though her hand as if it were-

"Stop, Elsa!" Anna cried, alarmed.

At the sound of her voice, Elsa pulled herself from the memory. She took a step back and slipped on her own ice. Only a quick downward blast from both her hands kept her from hitting the floor. She turned to Anna, eyes stinging with tears. "This isn't working!" she hissed.

"I think you're misunderstanding what I said," Anna said yet again.

"I am doing exactly what you told me," Elsa said.

"No, you're not," Anna said, growing frustrated. "The point of this was to confront the things bottled up inside you, not to torture yourself!"

"I see little difference," Elsa rebutted.

Anna ran her fingers through her hair, which had become a disheveled mess. "Like I said yesterday," she said, "confronting these memories means accepting them and letting them go."

"They were quite far gone before you told me to suffer through them again," Elsa said.

"If you're suffering through them, then you didn't let them go the first time!" Anna declared.

"Then I'm supposed to be happy about being stabbed by a knife that burned like hellfire?" Elsa demanded.

"Of course not!" Anna shouted. "But you're supposed to express your pain and anger, and move on, not keep it up bottled up inside you until you explode!"

Anna threw her hands into the air with her last word. Elsa, seeing the irony, managed to cool her temper, her fiery retort smoldering to ash in her mouth. "You make a compelling point," she said, a hint of amusement on her face.

Anna endeavored to cool herself down. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. "I'm sorry," she said. "I didn't mean to yell."

Elsa chuckled. "Dear girl, you needn't apologize so often. As it happens, I believe I am the one currently failing to understand what you are trying to show me. Thus, it seems the fault rests upon me, and your anger is justified."

"Well, I suppose," Anna said, "but that means I made you relive a number of painful memories for no reason."

Elsa put her hand to her mouth in mock horror. "Heavens, you made me, did you? And without using spells or holy magic, no less. How powerful you must be."

Anna put a hand to her forehead. "No…that's not what I…"

"I'm just teasing you now," Elsa said, ruffling Anna's hair. "It seems tensions are high, at the moment. How about a break?"

Anna smiled. "That sounds lovely," she said. "Excellent idea."

Elsa grinned. "I have those, every couple of centuries or so."

xxxxxxx

The full moon of their beach journey had waned, a mere quarter now shining down upon them – first or last, Anna hadn't kept track of. This, along with a starry sky, were more than enough to illuminate the valley before the two women.

By Anna's estimation, it must've been somewhere near the meadow where Elsa had taken her to ride the horses. A few trees dotted a quiet, calm riverbank, and though winter was approaching, the grass before them was still lush and verdant, swaying in a cool breeze. She shivered, drew her coat around her, and squeezed Elsa's hand, and together they set off at a slow walk.

"Relaxing, yes?" Elsa asked.

"Yes, very," Anna said.

"Good," Elsa said. "I have never really been put at ease by nature, but you certainly seem to be."

Anna smiled. "You chose a good place," she said. "It's quite nice here."

Elsa held her head high, proud of her achievement.

"It's quite romantic, in fact," Anna continued.

Elsa blinked. "It is?" she said, surprised.

"Well, yes," Anna said with a giggle. "Was it not supposed to be?"

"Well…of course, it's no problem that it is," Elsa said. "But I didn't think it would be."

Anna found herself growing curious, and she sidled closer to Elsa. "And what's your idea of a romantic outing?"

Elsa began to blush. "I was…under the impression that the most romantic outings would be in a field of flowers, or…a stroll along the beach…or some kind of festival."

"Yes, those are nice," Anna agreed, "but that doesn't mean this isn't."

"But…it's just a valley," Elsa said, gesturing at the surroundings. "It's quiet, uneventful – that's why I thought it would be a good place to calm down."

Elsa scrutinized the valley, as if she might discover the secret to its romantic nature. She settled on the trees. "I suppose these would be prime candidates for carving initials upon, or having a picnic beneath?" she asked, hoping for Anna to throw her a line.

Anna found herself unable to contain her giggles. "Oh, Elsa," she said. "It's just not as simple as that. There's nothing extrinsic that makes a place romantic. It's a feeling you get." She struggled to find words to explain herself.

Elsa's blush was now profuse. "I see," she said. "It would appear my methods of gathering information on the subject have…something of a glaring hole in them."

"It seems so," Anna replied. "I've spent hours upon hours in your library, and I don't think I've seen a single novel."

Elsa frowned. "Novel? Now we're talking about books? I'm not sure I follow your logic."

"Oh, never mind," Anna said. She stopped walking and turned to Elsa, who followed suit, and took both of her hands. "It's not logical at all. It's just something you have to get a feel for yourself. You're right that this is just a normal valley. But there's more to it than that." She shut her eyes and leaned back, swaying gently with Elsa's grip anchoring her. "Close your eyes. You'll feel it."

Elsa lowered her head. "I appreciate your confidence in my ability to-"

Anna held up a finger, silencing her immediately.

"…very well," Elsa said. She closed her eyes and endeavored to feel.

The ground is soft beneath my feet, and the grass tickles them slightly. As a contrast to the halls of my castle, I suppose it is nice – but she's wearing shoes, she wouldn't feel all of that.

The air is livelier and more humid than my castle's. If I choose to breathe, the smells of nature are…nice, I suppose. But those things would be true in any natural place.

There are the sounds of nature around me, if I choose not to tune them out. Crickets in the grass around my feet, the swaying of grass in the wind, the soft breathing of a family of birds sleeping in a tree nearby. Humans seem to like the sound of nature, perhaps in contrast to the sounds of their own civilization – but her hearing is much weaker than mine. She couldn't hear any of that.

She opened her eyes. "I feel…as if I'm overthinking this," she said.

"Okay, that's fine," Anna said, this time managing her rising impatience much better.

"Ironic, isn't it?" Elsa said ruefully. "I took you here so we could relax, and here I am, failing to learn another lesson."

"If you're enjoying yourself, that's all that matters," Anna said.

"I am…enjoying being here with you," Elsa replied after some time.

Anna chuckled. "I'll take it," she said.

Elsa fell silent, and the two resumed their walk through the valley. They came to a large tree and Anna motioned for them to sit at its base, leaning back to rest against the trunk. Elsa had little need to rest, but did so anyway, and made her body as relaxed as she could. She wrapped an arm around Anna's body and, feeling the rhythm of her breathing, mimicked it, breathing in time with her.

It was a peaceful moment, sitting there in Elsa's arms surrounded by nature. Though she was aware Elsa wasn't getting quite as much out of it as she had hoped, she seemed happy enough for now. In addition, she felt she understood Elsa a great deal more now, and that would be crucial if she was to make any of this work.

In time, she felt Elsa stirring, and prepared for what she might have to say.

"I am sorry that I can't feel what you are feeling," she said.

Anna looked at her and smiled. "It's okay," she said. "You just aren't used to this, that's all. It'll all come to you in time."

"Are you certain?" Elsa asked worriedly. "I am not sure I even have the capacity to feel the way you do."

"Of course you do," Anna assured her. "You feel emotions just like I do. You're not some monster." She leaned back, confident in her assertion.

She was completely unprepared for Elsa's response.

"Aren't I?"

The words were bad enough, but it was the tone that really shocked her. Her voice wasn't trembling, nor was she angry – those would have been understandable. She sounded genuinely surprised, as if the thought of not being a monster had never even entered her head.

"Of course not," she said, turning to Elsa worriedly.

Elsa regarded her curiously. "Am I not a vampire? A creature of the night with an insatiable thirst for the blood of humans, whose bane is the light of day? Do heroes not journey the land, hoping to slay my kind for the good of humanity? Do mothers not tell their children to be good, or else one of my kind will come to get them? Do I not lurk in the shadows, hunted by the holy?"

"Perhaps," admitted Anna. "But you're so much more than that. You're intelligent, sophisticated, polite…"

Elsa snorted. "Sophisticated? Because I live in a castle? Does that mean the second I obtained this castle, I stopped being a monster?" Anna didn't contest the point further, so she continued. Intelligent? I've met many an intelligent demon – the best demons usually are, in fact. And I've met far more polite demons than priests."

Anna opened her mouth.

"A poor example, perhaps," Elsa conceded. "But that does little to change my point. Don't you humans say that actions truly dictate one's character?"

Anna nodded.

"I've killed hundreds," Elsa said. "Thousands, perhaps, all to sustain my own being. You hadn't forgotten that, I hope?"

Anna shook her head. "I haven't," she said.

"There you have it," Elsa said. She let go of Anna, perhaps thinking an embrace would be awkward given the subject matter at hand. "It seems you believe that calling me something other than a monster is a compliment, in which case I offer my thanks. Truly, though, I have made peace with what I am – centuries ago, in fact. My disposition and residence do not change what I am, nor does my attraction to you. I simply am a monster, and I've done nothing to prove otherwise." With that, she closed her eyes and leaned back against the tree.

Anna was astonished. Not only had she accepted that she was a monster, she seemed resilient to being told that she wasn't. Thinking back, Kristoff calling her a monster hadn't dissuaded her, either. How could she revel in it so openly? It must've been some kind of coping mechanism she had adopted centuries ago, to deal with the guilt of having to end a life every week.

Not every week, actually.

Anna smiled. She leaned back against the tree and turned her head towards Elsa's. "Yes, you have," she said quietly.

"Oh?" Elsa said, eyes closed and voice utterly confident. "And how did I do that?"

Anna leaned in further, unnecessary though it was, until her mouth was nearly touching Elsa's ear. "I know what human blood smells like," she whispered.

Elsa's eyes shot open.

Anna leaned back, her confidence bolstered by seeing Elsa's reaction. "I've been around it long enough to know its distinct odor. It's pungent, and metallic in nature, like iron. But I've been around dead animals, too."

At the mention of animals, Elsa began to shiver. Anna wouldn't have noticed it, if she hadn't taken her hand a moment earlier.

"Animal blood smells different, doesn't it? Every animal's is unique and none of them are even remotely similar to humans."

"You can't know that for certain," Elsa said.

Anna smiled. "Perhaps not. But here's something I am sure about." She met Elsa's gaze. "You haven't smelled like human blood in weeks."

"H-how could you be so sure about that?" Elsa asked.

"Because I noticed it every week, when I first arrived here," Anna said. "It was something I could never quite ignore, tapping at the back of my head each feeding night of yours. So when it started to change, I noticed that, too."

"I was playing it safe," Elsa defended. "After that close encounter with holy water, I sought less risky alternatives."

Anna shook her head. "It started before that," she said. "And it's only increased since then. Tell me I'm wrong."

Elsa didn't even try to – looking into her eyes like this, lying was impossible. She broke eye contact and turned away.

"Just because you're right, that doesn't mean I'm wrong," Elsa said. "I still am a monster."

Anna put her arm around Elsa. She nestled into it, closing the distance between them.

"But when I'm with you," Elsa continued, looking at her with wide eyes, "sometimes…I wish I wasn't."

Anna embraced her with both arms, and they kissed. Elsa leaned into it eagerly. Adapting to her new life with Anna had been tumultuous in many ways, but as they kissed more and more, Elsa rapidly felt herself becoming comfortable with it, very satisfied with this new normal.

At least, until one kiss lasted longer than any before it, and Anna's heart rate began to increase. Elsa knew what this must be building up to, and she had been nervously anticipating it. As Anna began to open her mouth, she put her palm on Anna's chest, and Anna, though confused, backed off at the gesture.

"Wait," Elsa said as soon as their lips separated. "Before we begin, a precaution." She gently removed one of Anna's arms from her waist and placed it on her own shoulder. "If I should happen to bite into your tongue and not immediately break away, or if I hold you too hard and it begins to hurt…please, clap me on the shoulder, or pull on my braid, or do something to stop me."

Anna shook her head. "I'm not afraid of-"

"I am," Elsa said. "It would be a tremendous comfort to me if you would agree to this. Please."

Her sincerity was clear, and Anna could do little other than agree. "All right," Anna said, giving Elsa's shoulder a little squeeze.

Elsa smiled. "Then let us-"

She didn't even have time to finish her sentence before Anna took her head in hand and pulled it forward.

Anna's tongue darted into her mouth, past her fangs. Elsa completely froze up, taking a few seconds to realize she should probably reciprocate. The feeling of her tongue touching Anna's was bizarre, for certain. But she instantly wanted more.

This new kiss stretched on for five seconds, then ten, then twenty. Anna was a little clumsy, having to work around the fangs, but Elsa surpassed her tenfold. She had seen couples kissing like this in her research, but she still hadn't come close to grasping the mechanics of it, or why it seemed so pleasurable. The latter was now abundantly clear, at least.

It was only after a full minute that Elsa broke away, and only because she knew Anna had to breathe. They pulled apart slowly, with Elsa looking at Anna with anticipation. Anna panted for a few seconds, then smiled, leaning back in for another kiss.

As she basked in the pleasure of Anna's kisses, the rest of the night's events became just a bit clearer to her. Her senses, which had proved inadequate in gauging the value of a calm valley, now devoured every aspect of Anna they could – the feel, smell, and taste of her were overwhelming. And she now could say, with certainty, what was so romantic about a quiet, moonlit night.