Anna felt like she'd been hit by a carriage. Her limbs ached. Her muscles cried out for sleep. She couldn't maintain a comfortable temperature, stuck in a perpetual cycle of cloak-on, cloak-off. The sun was too bright and her head pounded. Still, she was determined to contribute to the day's activities. She was sick of lying around, useless and lethargic, being fed and bathed and spoken to in soothing tones like some kind of stupid, poopy little baby.

'Rats!' The knife slipped in her sweaty, shaky hand and a steady flow of blood seeped from her finger onto the chopping board, staining the wild mushrooms. What a waste.

'Why don't you just lie down and relax with a nice book or something?' Elsa said, 'I can take care of supper.'

'I'm sick of resting. I'm sick of lying around and feeling sorry for myself while other people take care of me. It's pathetic.'

It was pathetic, and it was embarrassing.

Anna felt like the weak link out here in the forest. They only had enough food for a couple of days. There was only so much Gerda could fit in their trunks in amongst the winter clothes, toiletries, medicines, and valuables. And Kristoff could only sell one or two expensive items at a time, at these rural village markets, without raising suspicion. But it wasn't a problem. Not for Kristoff and Elsa. They knew how to forage for berries, mushrooms, roots and edible leaves. They could cook, mend the walls, catch fish, and make fire from scratch. Kristoff built traps for small game and Elsa replicated them with ice. Oh, she was certainly enjoying her ice. Making all sorts of things. Every tree and rock was covered in whimsical swirling decorations. She made useful things, as well. Knives, shovels, wheelbarrows, all functional. An extra chair. Moving humanoid targets - many of which looked more than a little like Hans - that shattered into hundreds of pieces as she hit them with lightning quick accuracy and staggering force. Sometimes all at the same time. She would not be a good person to have as an enemy.

And as for Anna. Well. She'd struggled to carry a full bucket of water back from the well, needing to stop and rest several times. Nearly passed out when she'd tried to help beat the dust out of the blankets and rugs. Just about vomited when she'd tried to gut a fish. And now she'd bled all over the mushrooms Elsa had painstakingly foraged.

'You've been through a lot. You've been under a lot of pressure, and you're...still unwell.' Elsa dampened a cloth and started wiping the blood from the bench, 'It's okay to be fragile sometimes.'

Anna decided to get out of the way, and squished her butt into the adorable little kiddie-chair in front of the hearth, absently poking at the coals with an iron poker, searching for some kind of sign or symbol in the morphing black and red glow. 'I feel like I don't even recognise myself any more. Like I don't recognise the person I used to be.'

The central log in the fire finally snapped. Two pieces fell to either side of the pile, red hot and filled with light.

'I used to be strong and smart and make all these cunning plans, and stay switched on to everything around me and have everything under control.' The fire crackled and popped soothingly. A tear slid down her cheek, 'I used to be fun .'

'Hey, now,' Elsa rinsed the bloodied mushrooms in a bowl of water and laid them to dry, 'I've had more fun with you in the past few months than I've had in the whole seven years I wore that amulet.'

'Seven years?' Anna hadn't realised she'd worn it for quite that long. Seven years is a long time to be deprived of a part of oneself. A long time to be deprived of human dignity. A long time to be afraid. Most of her teen years were spent in hiding. Anna started counting backwards from twenty-one in her head but Elsa continued.

'When I arrived in Arendelle, I felt like an empty shell. I didn't recognise myself. I'd forgotten how to be a person. But you made me feel…' She knelt beside Anna planting kisses on her neck, on her ear, on her cheek, running hands through her hair, 'Like there was a reason to wake up in the morning. For the first time in seven years, you made me feel like life was worth living. Like there was something good in the world. Something redeemable in humanity.'

Anna fell backwards at the lips crashing into her own. She welcomed the soothing weight on top of her and the loveliness of Elsa's touch, her skin, her scent, her soft tresses of hair dangling down, tickling Anna's face. But her stomach still churned at any movement. A sting lingered behind her eyes and she was acutely aware of the sickly sweat prickling at her body. She turned her face away, toward the fire and squeezed her eyes shut at its blinding light, 'Oh, hey, I love you too but I feel so gross.'

Elsa pushed herself up on her elbows, still straddling Anna beneath her, gazing down with an open mouth. 'You what?' she whispered.

The words just said hovered in the air, like mist on a lake, unmistakably there but untouchable. She didn't mean for them to slip out like that and she didn't want to say it again. She wanted Elsa to say it again first.

But what if Elsa didn't love her? What if Hans was right, and she was just automatically gravitating to kindness, as a survival instinct. What if Anna was totally replaceable?

'I...I said I feel kind of gross. Still um...unwell.'

Elsa pulled herself off and sat up slowly. She stared into the fire for a while with the ghost of a smile and sighed, 'Yes. Timing has not been our friend.'

II

Kristoff stomped through the door and dumped a satchel onto the bench. Vegetables and bread loaves spilled out onto the bench. 'They're looking for you two as far out as Hagen Village. There are posters everywhere. Soldiers patrolling. It's a scary time to be the guy who smuggled you out here, I tell ya.'

Damn, the words tugged at Anna's conscience. All those resources drained. The money wasted. The people left in the lurch, without a word, intimidated by a military patrol. She hoped their lives wouldn't be too upended by the change in administration.

'Are you sure this place is safe?' Elsa asked.

'I thought so,' Kristoff said with a hesitancy in his voice, 'I mean, it took me more than ten years to find it again, and I used to live here. Was starting to think the whole place was just some childhood fever dream. but...'

The two girls briefly shared an endeared smile. So this confirmed what they had theorised. It was his childhood home.

'But what?' Anna prompted.

'But things have changed since then. Villages got bigger. They built real roads everywhere. Bridges and signposts and all that fancy stuff.' He leaned against the bench and took a huge bite out of a long bread loaf, 'Back in the day, getting here meant you had to drive across fields and through creeks. It was totally inaccessible in the winter. That's why we had to wait so long to get to the city. It was too late for Mama, by then. But we still had to try.'

'I'm sorry.' Anna said.

'Eh.' He waved it off, 'It was a long time ago. But I don't wanna lose you, Anna. I don't...I don't have a lot of, um, human friends. And I don't trust these shiny newfangled roads…'

'Right.' Anna nodded exaggeratedly. 'Friendship good. Roads bad. I'm following.' She wasn't following.

'So I think we should fake your death.'

'Whoa! That seems kind of extreme. Don'tcha think? I mean, this is just a temporary place to rest…'

It did seem kind of extreme, but once Kristoff explained his reasoning, all three eventually agreed. Anna's whereabouts was all anyone was talking about in the towns. They weren't going to stop looking without reason. Given that the people believed she'd been kidnapped by a witch, and those who knew better believed she was biding her time and plotting against the administration - which was essentially true. If she wasn't going back right away, then they needed to ensure their safety for the time being.

Blazing orange bled across the sky as the setting sun descended toward the horizon, casting long shadows and amber light across the clearing. The three of them stood sombre around Anna's cloak, draped flat on the damp ground. In the middle of the fine, violet fabric with emerald green trimming, sat a cage. Inside the cage, a large hare struggled against the bars, frantically trying to hop but finding itself unable to move in its confinement.

'Who's going to do the honours?' Kristoff asked. 'I'm uh...I'm not real good with blood.'

Elsa picked up the knife and held it in trembling hands. The blade would fit through the holes of the cage, easily. It would be a quick death. Hopefully painless. Anna was reminded of her father's words, way back when Elsa was an unknown being, spoken of in hushed theoreticals by the council.

Death is its own sort of kindness.

And her mother's response.

Murder is never a kindness. She's innocent. She wants to live.

Elsa grit her teeth, held her breath, and positioned the knife right above the helpless, trapped creature's fluffy white neck. And placed it down again onto the cage. 'I can't. I can't do it.'

'Didn't you just kill a couple of men back in the castle?' Kristoff asked casually? 'A hare should be easy.'

'Yes.' Elsa's face twisted into a hard grimace. She gazed into the distant trees and the muscles over her jaw twitched. 'I did. I really did that.'

'Was that the first time you ever, um, killed someone?' Anna asked, but she already knew the answer. She was starting to get a picture of who Elsa was before the amulet, and it wasn't a killer.

'Of course it was. What kind of monster do you think I am?'

Immediate tension filled the air. Monster was not a word anyone had expected to drop on this chilly afternoon. But such was the nature of sore spots. You don't see them until it's too late. And Elsa had so many sore spots.

'They were the monsters, those men. You saved me. You were the hero.' She took Elsa's hands into her own and rubbed gently with her thumbs, trying to make eye contact, 'You're my hero.'

'Sure,' Elsa mumbled with a weak smile, still gazing off into the trees, cogs turning on her face. She would have to wrestle with the philosophical implications of ending a human life - regardless how justified - on her own terms, in her own time. It wasn't a burden Anna could understand. Not yet. Hopefully not ever. But perhaps she could have a small taste.

Holding the knife steady in two hands, Anna took a deep breath and plunged it down through the gap in the cage. The hare died instantly. Its shallow breaths turned to stillness in the frigid air and a vermillion flood spilled over the pale cloak. So much blood was inside such a small creature. It certainly gave the impression of an unsurvivable injury.

It brought her no joy. A twinge of guilt pulled at her heart. The poor creature was innocent. It wanted to live. But protecting these three lives was worth the cost.

Elsa was humming that tune again.
Blessed are the meek. For they shall inherit.

They ate in silence that night. Tomorrow Arendelle's flag would fly at half mast, for it would receive the news that its princess was surely dead.

III

Just as Elsa had promised, the sickness began to fade after about a week. Anna began to feel immensely better. Stronger, sharper and clear headed. More clear headed than she'd felt in months. Years, perhaps

The world began to steady beneath her feet. The light of the sun no longer stung her eyes, but warmed her soul, and she walked with sure, solid steps over the earth. Being away from the trimmings and trappings of the castle, Anna fell into a rhythm. And every day she grew a little stronger in the rhythm. Less dizzy. Less hot and cold. She ate a little more and slept a little less.

Emotions hit her with startling clarity, winding her from the inside with a sharp intensity she wasn't used to. Especially in the evenings when thoughts settled like debris on the ocean floor. When she would normally wash them away with the numbing bitterness of wine.

Some of the feelings were to be expected. Loss, grief, sadness. The empty parent-shaped space inside her. The weight of an abandoned kingdom. The stress of change and uncertainty.

But good feelings also settled satisfyingly into place. Every flower's aroma hit her nose, unapologetically sweet and jubilant. The glittering, clean snow soothed her soul with its crisp, reflective whiteness. The birdsongs charmed her. As she walked to the well and back, collected mushrooms in the mornings and berries in the afternoon and waited for fish to bite in the lazy evenings, with Elsa by her side, she felt her soul relaxing into a sense of safety. Slowness. Space. And freedom. Freedom from the constriction and contrived niceties, her tightly scheduled days, the fake smiling and carefully scripted words. The pageantry and pomp and the mental effort it all required. She felt like she was meeting herself for the first time. A different self that had always been there. Just...dormant. This self was a thread in the tapestry that was all of nature. Playing its part. Not separate. Never alone.

Her thoughts were faster and more precise. So, too, was her coordination. She practiced with an old bow and arrow she'd found under the bed and her hits grew more accurate each day. Of course, it was common for noble girls to learn a spot of archery, more as a dignified way to have a little outdoor fun, rather than any notion of participation in actual combat. But it was satisfying to feel that in the unlikely event that anyone came to bother them here, she had some kind of tool at her disposal. Something a little more useful than a title.

She practiced sparring too, with crude swords of wood and ice, and found the training awakening from within the deep recesses of her mind and her muscles. Her father had allowed her swordcraft lessons, years ago, as a frivolous sort of indulgence. An eccentric little hobby for his eccentric little girl. Bless her cotton stockings. Probably as a bribe to get her to perform some boring task with a smile on her face.

If only he could see her now. The son he never had, indeed, time would tell. She had worn nothing but her "boy-disguise" since arriving here. She'd grown quite accustomed to the comfort and flexibility of warm trousers and woolen vests. Bless Gerda for knowing her well enough to pack them.

Even Elsa was surprised at the ferocity, speed and precision of her strategic hits. More than once she reminded Anna to go easy as she fell onto her backside into the snow, splintered ice-armour falling to the ground in pieces. Of course, with a lazy wave, she could have knocked Anna's sword from her hands and immobilised her. But with no weapons training whatsoever and knowing she would lose pitifully every time, Elsa humoured her. And she enjoyed it. They both laughed and chased each other and jumped over logs and felt thoroughly elated afterwards, like they owned the whole world.

It was on one of these occasions when Elsa sat covered in mud and leaves, with flushed cheeks and pale whisps of sweaty hair slick against her forehead, and a laugh that resonated from tree to tree, that a thought became very clear to Anna. As clear as the water in the river and the clouds in the sky and the perfect edges of the snowflakes that fluttered to the ground in the cosy evenings.

'I love you.'

'You...you do?' Elsa looked up at her with wide eyes. 'I, um, I...'

'You don't have to say it back.' She said, pulling Elsa up by the hand and into a vigorous kiss. Soft, sweet tasting lips pressed into her own. Tongues mashed together. A fire rip-roared to life in her pelvis, spreading through her chest, across her cheeks, tingling in her fingers as she reached for more contact.

Elsa grasped back at hair, curves, flesh, anything her warm fingers could find as they snaked under Anna's clothes, needy and bold. She stumbled backwards, pulling Anna into the house - thankfully empty, Kristoff had gone to town.

They tumbled and scrambled up the stairs in a mess of limbs and hands and frenetic energy like a universe bursting into life, not breaking contact the entire time. To do so would be unthinkable. Unbearable. Anna lost track of whose hands and limbs fell where, in the flurry of movement, as she found herself falling backwards onto the bed, pulling Elsa onto her, into her, all around her. Burying her head into the soft crook of Elsa's neck, tasting her sweet smooth skin, nibbling and brushing her teeth lightly against flesh, breathing her dewey scent deep into her lungs.

Elsa's fingers left trails of sensation up the sides of Anna's ribs as they pulled her shirt off, and then her chemise, leaving her warm flushed skin tingling bare against the cool air. She groped clumsily to return the favour but only got a few buttons undone before she lost all composure at the cool, wet lips on her collarbone, moving down toward her sternum and onto the fleshy side of her breast. A low, breathy moan escaped from the base of her throat, which just caused Elsa's lips to move more determinedly. When those lips found their way to Anna's nipple, she threw her head back, moaning a higher, breathier moan this time, as heat rippled through her body and pooled between her legs where Elsa's weight pressing down was becoming too much to bear.

As if able to read her mind, Elsa withdrew her mouth and held herself up on her elbows, gazing dreamily down with a flushed face and heavy lidded eyes, and planted another quick, gentle kiss on her needy lips. In this brief reprieve, Anna managed to pull off Elsa's blouse and unhitch her skirt at the back. But Elsa was on a mission. She made her way down Anna's torso, nails scratching lightly over her warm skin until she reached the trouser waistband and tugged slowly. Maddeningly slowly. Teasing. Cruel. The delicate points of her nose and chin pressed into fabric between trembling thighs where sensations of heat and wetness were becoming insatiable. She inched those trousers down little by little by little, as her dangling hair brushed against a sensitive midriff.

Anna's patience expired. She pushed her hips up and slid her trousers off. She was ready, so ready. For what exactly, she wasn't sure. But Elsa seemed to know, and she trusted Elsa. And when that hot, wet mouth finally came down between her legs, the blasphemous words and screams of encouragement escaping Anna's mouth could have woken the dead. On top of the mind-shattering sensation of Elsa's massaging tongue and suckling lips, she felt a curious finger slipping inside her, exploring, waiting for confirmation that it was welcome.

She managed to moan out an affirmative, while internally thinking back to their discussion of the silly word "deflowering". It was really very inaccurate because she didn't feel like she was being de-anythinged, or losing anything, for that matter. Rather, she felt like she was gaining something wonderful. Combining herself with a beautiful other to create something new and completely whole from its two parts. She begged for more and felt another finger enter her. Waves of euphoria crashed over her, harder and stronger until they reached a point of obliteration and all her thoughts evaporated into a perfect nothingness - a sense of complete letting go, in every fibre of her being - where all she could do was gasp for air.

When Anna's mind and body returned to a state of blissful equilibrium, her heart slowed and the trembling stopped, Elsa was nestled against her side looking downright pleased with herself.

Still wearing that silly shift. That wasn't right. Not right at all.

Anna flipped them over so she was on top and gazed hungrily at the beauty beneath her. Just as stunning as she had been that very first day in the dungeon with her perfect cheekbones and full, pink lips and long, lithe limbs in perfect proportions. Only she had filled out beautifully since then, with such a decent diet, and now her body cascaded in perfect feminine curves, teasing from beneath the thin fabric. Round and soft and lush but delicate like a rare flower blooming under the moon.

It was her turn now. Her turn to unwrap Elsa like a sexy, delicious Christmas present. And her heart soared just like it used to on Christmas morning, but with the tantalising addition of her adult sensuality and the warmth of trust and affection and admiration and protectiveness and gratefulness and all the overwhelming feelings that had grown for Elsa like a blossoming garden in her heart. Feelings she couldn't find words for. She needed to demonstrate them physically. She had waited so long.

Anna snaked one hand through the shift's armhole and caressed a warm, full breast. And then the other. They both yielded in her kneading hands like they belonged there and the sheer perfection of them set off tiny explosions in her stomach. She pressed her face into the fullness of Elsa's chest, pulling her shift down just enough to bury herself in cleavage - wonderfully warm and titillating. The best place in the world. Like a soft, pillowy castle in the heavens. She would like to live here forever. But the warmth was building up in Anna again. The urge. The hunger. The want.

With a firm grip, she slid her hands down the dips of Elsa's waist and out again over her hips, pressing her face against her slender stomach - still with that damn fabric between them - until she reached her knees. A grin spread over her face as she slowly slid the fabric up Elsa's lean thighs, intoxicated by the promise of what whas to come. What wondrous fair treasures awaited beneath, ready to receive her boundless love?

She'd barely gotten the shift halfway up Elsa's thighs when they clenched suddenly. Hands shot down and landed on Anna's shoulders, trembling but firm. Holding her back.

Shit. Something was wrong. Very wrong. The arousal simmered with a rising anxiety and confusion as Anna took in the sight before her. Glassy, unfocused eyes. Chest rising and falling shallowly. A small, weak, choking sound like a sob trapped in a tight throat.

Anna's heart broke, a guilt flooded through her, and somewhere deep beneath it all a white hot rage was pulsing but she would deal with that later. She willed herself not to panic. She had hoped to high heavens something like this wouldn't happen, but realistically, she knew it was a possibility. And since it wasn't the kind of thing that one could find instructions for, in a book, or seek advice about, Anna could only follow her gut instincts. She came to her knees beside Elsa, gathered the blanket up over her rigid shoulders and wrapped it around her, pulling the frozen figure into herself, stroking her hair and speaking softly but clear enough to hopefully be reassuring. 'Elsa? It's okay. You're here, with me. It's safe here. It's okay.'

It took quite a while for the rigidity in those muscles gave way to limpness, and when they did, no tears fell. Elsa sounded small and distant when she spoke. 'I'm sorry.'

'What?' Anna nestled them into a corner and leaned against the wall, snuggly and safe in the blankets with Elsa's head on her chest.

'I'm so sorry, Anna. I thought I was ready for this.'

Anna kept her hand moving in circles over messy blonde hair. It was her turn, after all. Finally. Not her turn to unwrap and lick and grope, but her turn to hold Elsa tight and comfort her and try to ease a little of her pain. In some ways, this was what she had really wanted to do, ever since that first day down in the dungeon. It was what she needed to do. 'You don't need to be sorry for anything.'

'I do though. Because I… it… you…' her muffled voice clearly held back tears, 'I ruined it. I let you down.'

'Let me down? Elsa! You just rocked my world in ways that I can't even…' Heavens above, it would take a while for Anna to fully process what had just happened. She felt like she'd been awakened on a divine level. She hadn't the words for it yet. 'And it's okay if you're not ready for me to rock yours yet. It's okay if you're never ready. I mean, that'd be sad. Because I love you. And you're beautiful. And I want to make you feel... that good . But I get it.' She was dangerously close to rambling territory now, but Elsa was shuffling around weakly in her cocoon, coming out of her freeze-state, so it must be working. 'I mean of course I could never really understand… The things that have happened to you are just…just...I mean we don't have to talk about it but I feel like maybe it would help-'

'Maybe another day.' Elsa brought her hands up to cup Anna's face as she did so often. She looked so beautiful but so sad with eyes shining wet, hair all messed up and lips slightly swollen from all the desperately enthusiastic kissing that had recently taken place.

So, she didn't want to linger on it. Who could blame her. 'Yeah, yeah that's cool. Whatever you want. Did you feel like maybe going to the stream before it gets dark? Or we could just stay here and have some hot tea, or-'

'Anna.'

'Yeah?'

'I love you, too.'