She was falling in love.
Freya knew it. From that first look at the blonde woman sat at her desk, her regal poise with a hint of uncertainty making her both beautiful and approachable, Freya felt the slightest touch of attraction. It had become a little nerve wracking after they had spoken on the ice and those blue eyes had sparked with good cheer from an entertaining evening. Then there was her wonderfully generous offer of skates for a simple member of the palace staff. Her amused handling of Freya's somewhat tumbling response to the offer was even less expected.
Then Freya had seen her smile. Elsa's smile for her sister had been breathtakingly beautiful to the farrier. She had felt like she was intruding when she saw Elsa smile.
After hearing the whole sorry tale of sacrifice, isolation, sadness and fear that was Elsa's childhood Freya knew she wanted to chase it all away, she wanted to hold this amazing person safe from the cruel world. The look of gratitude Elsa gave her after those shackles had been destroyed was one Freya treasured.
It had not been a surprise that the Queen was interested still in the process to create ice-skates from mundane means. She was so giving of herself and so invested in her people and her country. A while after, Freya had asked once, "Why did you want to see some dirty, stuffy, mundane work to make something you can create in a moment?" Elsa had looked surprised to be asked and contemplative a moment.
"I spent a long time with only learning as company and that only from books and documents. To see something happen in person, something that took effort and process... To feel the atmosphere as something is created... I want to see lots of things. To feel lots of things, after my life before." The words were sure and passionate by the end and Freya had been most affected in a certain way that left them both gasping for air after a long kiss.
The playing and dancing on the ice was perfect, Freya had never felt so happy since her childhood and had filled a gap in experience Elsa had suffered, the simple fun of games with a friend. The urge to kiss had not been a surprise to Freya, she had desired the attractive and complicated woman since their first chat in the forge. The two weeks of self denial and self hatred had been almost the most painful of her life. That prize went to the day her life had burned down.
When Elsa asked for her story, the events that drove her from her home and to Arendelle, Freya had been worried. The attentive look, the sympathetic noises and caring touch had all been heartening.
Though the kiss had been the memorable moment of that.
Now, Elsa would find reasons to visit the forge to see her in the day. Freya was joining in with the fun on the ice. They were both growing so close to each other, despite what should have been a gulf with their social classes so far apart.
She was yet to approach that with Elsa. On more than one occasion, Freya had realised that Elsa the woman, not Elsa the Queen was the one who sought her out. Their positions in life did not matter to Elsa, with her secret smile for the farrier.
Yes, Freya could easily say she was falling in love with Elsa.
Little shorts that started life as sections in other chapters, or things I removed from Becoming Free for pace. This is one of those. I never bin the whole thing, so there are so many documents on my computer that are waiting to be polished or placed somewhere new.
This one was not going to fit anywhere else so I polished it up for publishing.