Nightshades of Tomorrow

In an abrupt and surprise gesture that was quietly taking the kingdom of Arendelle by storm, the radiant Queen Elsa invited the fiery Prince Yasha to dinner. It was disguised as a formal engagement that included the visitors of another kingdom, all in an effort to mask the attraction that had been growing between them since the fall of Fria, and a ring of nobles sat around the large table, a wreath of aristocracy that included the crowned-prince of Overlake and his wife, as well as several younger lords and ladies from the most renowned families in and around Arendelle. For her part, Elsa wasn't known for such formal gatherings, but as she glanced across the fresh flowers and ornate tableware to her guests, she felt an unusual giddiness in stark contrast to her anxiety. When her hopeful eyes found Yasha, his appearance so very different than the dangerous and wild creature she had journeyed with to the FireHeart, her heart raced further, for while she would openly deny the whispers that circled her castle, the entire evening was designed to bring him there, into the royal arena she was herself unaccustomed to.

"Well, what shall we talk about?" the queen quipped, breaking the silence that lingered over the table, even as she twisted her hands nervously out of sight.

There was no answer. Many of the others had been whispering among their own circles, mostly about the various social flubs of her infamous guest, while the delegation from Overlake had simply been trying to remain proper. Elsa couldn't dispel her own thrashing mood, but had high expectations of the evening, especially as she once more glanced over to Yasha, who was sitting so stiffly in his place that he appeared to be part of the furniture.

The continuing silence was touched by a chilly air in the room.

"If I may," the prince of Overlake began, though he seemed exceptionally nervous as he glanced across the table, furthering his obvious fixation on the notorious prince of Fria, "Prince Yasha, is it true that the palace in Fria was built right into the side of a volcano?"

While seemingly innocuous, the subject was of great interest to all, but stirred up a very defensive expression on Yasha's face.

"Yes."

"That's astounding! I don't believe I've ever heard of such a thing. What was it like to live in such a place?" the prince continued excitedly, unaware of the truth of Yasha's past.

Elsa paled and moved to speak, but Yasha's vicious tone cut away any other sound in the room. "It was a foul and terrible place, carved into the heart of the sacred mountain, where the very ground beneath you might swallow everything and regret nothing. You should not admire such senselessness."

The blunt response made whispers flare and the prince of Overlake was embarrassed, though he simply retreated from his attempts to talk with Yasha.

"Right. I suppose when one thinks about it, living in a volcano isn't the wisest of ideas," he admitted.

The atmosphere became oppressive once more. It was apparent that everyone in the room had questions for Yasha, from his pardoned crimes of kidnapping Princess Anna to the details of his reclusive kingdom, but it was just as obvious that everyone in the room was intimidated by him, especially when it came to his notoriously fierce eyes. Even Elsa had a hard time figuring out how to handle the mood, even as it was she that arranged the meeting and was the matriarch of the castle. It was just as true that her interest in Yasha wasn't chained merely to curiosity, for ever since he had come to her kingdom, she had been captivated by his presence, a strange consequence of seeing so much of his heart, and an aspect of their lives that was quickly thrust into the conversation as one of the ladies of Arendelle could no longer contain her intrigue and probed yet another topic on the forefront of everyone's minds.

"Then you must tell us what it's like living in the castle in Arendelle. I don't think the royal family has had a guest since I was a child," the lady remarked, giving Elsa a sideward glance and secretly enjoying the way the subject was flushing through her skin. "To be invited by the queen herself was so shocking that I thought the regent would simply faint. Everyone is just dying to know what it's like living in the castle."

"Tell us about you and Elsa."

It wasn't difficult to read between the lines and judging by the way both Elsa and Yasha reacted to the question, their interest only grew. "Yasha….Prince Yasha was invited to stay in the castle because he's the heir to Fria and his people now live within Arendelle's borders," Elsa suddenly blurted out, her hands twisting even more and her heart harboring the powerful desire for her magic to somehow cool the fire that was burning in her cheeks, "It's only proper that a prince reside in the castle. I'm not sure why everyone finds that so strange."

Trying to regain her poise, she nodded firmly to that point and closed her eyes, if only to spare herself leering expressions of those at the table. With the Snow Queen flustered and Yasha also bothered by the subject, it only furthered their inquisition.

"But still, to have a young man reside in the castle with our unmarried queen, not to mention the princess…" the woman continued, and was supported by her equally mischievous companion.

"The princess that he kidnapped," she chimed in.

"And stripped bare at knifepoint," the prince of Overlake suddenly added, though was instantly rebuked by his wife for joining in on something that was not their business, though fully illustrating how far the stories had gotten.

"It's quite scandalous, is all," the first woman continued.

"To those who care about such things," added her companion.

This sudden assault on Yasha wasn't what Elsa had planned for when she imagined the evening, though with how brazenly people were in their attitudes towards him, she berated herself for not seeing it coming. With his illicit past, he made easy pickings for the whispers of the world, something that didn't usually seem to bother him, much to her admiration, yet as he sat there at her table, abused by these casual accusations, he appeared beaten, far worse than he had been when dying before the FireHeart. She knew he already had reservations at staying, wishing to leave the castle and fade into the ranks of his people, wanting a common life in spite of being so uncommon.

It felt like she had to appeal to him daily, if only to keep him close.

Suddenly, as if no longer able to endure the abuse, Yasha stood so harshly that the table shuddered, making those that spoke out against him yelp in fear, for they all feared him, even as they spoke behind polite smiles. Even Elsa didn't know what to expect from him, for she knew the fierce look in his eyes better than anyone, and the capacity for destruction he wielded. Her heart raced, but her lips were frozen.

She still feared him sometimes as well.

"I will excuse myself."

It was all he would say before he turned from the table and stormed from the room, leaving everyone staring after him in shock. As he always had, he defied all convention by leaving without the consent of the queen, before any of the food had been served and amidst what seemed like the most benign of conversations. Instantly, the whispers flared about his behavior, which was so unlike a prince that his bloodline was in question, even if that was something that Yasha himself endorsed.

Elsa was torn at what to do. Her guest of honor had fled, yet her others guests sat talking of him as if he were some foreign thing not suitable for the table they shared. Her instincts told her that as queen, she should simply dismiss his behavior and entertain them, for she was the host of the evening and not required to cater to any single person, even if that person was the whole reason she had brought them together. She also knew her other guests would be intently watching to see how she reacted, to try and confirm the many suspicions of her feelings towards him. If she showed him preferential treatment, it would be the admission of her interest in him, something she had been desperately trying to hide from everyone.

Should she chase him, they would all know that her attention on him wasn't in passing.

As abruptly as Yasha, Elsa rose from her chair, prompting half of her guests to awkwardly do the same. "I…" she started, unsure how she would justify it, then realizing that the more she hesitated, the further away he would be become, and so she simply resolved to move forward at the beckoning of her heart.

"Excuse me as well. Please, begin the meal," she said and signaled the servants, then hurried after him, ignoring their whispers and the scandal her actions were sure to inflame.

Fleeing into the hallway, she whipped her head around, trying to find any sign of him before seeing his figure retreating into the distance, his pace quick and obviously hot. With little regard for anything else, she chased after him, calling a few times before finally causing him to stop in a part of the garden that was thankfully empty, for she was already so unsure of her own motives that she couldn't bear for her behavior to be witnessed by others.

"Yasha," she called as she caught up with him, slightly out of breath from their chase and the state of her heart, "Please come back. It…it's just talk."

"It is not just talk," he huffed back, sparing her the anger in his eyes by focusing on the subtle beauty of her garden, fixing them on a large, manicured plant with beautiful purple flowers. It oddly captivated him for a moment before he fell back into his well of anger.

"It is truth. I do not fault them for their words. It is just…"

She panted a few more times, trying to crane around to see his face, but slightly afraid to do so. "What?" she asked.

Finally, he turned to face her and she marveled at the mixture of anger, shame and reluctance in his eyes. His striking expression was added to a growing list of things that made him burn within her heart.

"I cannot do this, Elsa," he admitted, though she had no idea of his meaning and only blushed at the familiarity of her name on his lips.

"Can't do what?" she asked, almost breathless.

"This," he repeated, holding his hands out to present the creature that stood before her, "This uniform does not suit me. These regalia are a farce. I am more the criminal they make me out to be than this prince that parades before you."

"But...you are a prince, Yasha," she reminded him.

"Do you not understand? I am more pauper than prince!" he groaned, turning and pacing before her to try and vent away some of his heat. "You know how I lived before coming here. You have seen it! I did not have tutors teaching me the finer points of conversation. I have never known servants or silverware, and have slept on stone more often than I have bed sheets."

"And your peers mock me, as if I have never known civility."

Elsa opened her mouth to speak but felt inadequate to temper his heat. Seeing her try to defend him did cool him slightly, though as he continued to think of her efforts to assimilate him into her world, he sighed bitterly, realizing just how far apart they really were.

"I am as unsuited to this life as you were alone upon your mountain. I am an imposter to this role," he wailed.

Elsa was frustrated yet again. This was a recurring conversation, one she thought she had settled many times before. She continued to watch him struggle with this life, amazed that someone so resilient could be defeated by such trivial things. She knew that being royalty was as difficult as any trade, but even she had learned to handle it in spite of years of isolation and fear, something that prompted her to keep trying to persuade him. "If you'd just give yourself a chance, I know you can find your place here. I…" she continued, though found it as difficult in expressing herself to him as she always had, wishing that the message of her heart was as simple as the message she was reluctant to tell him.

"I want you to find your place here."

He sighed, seeing the obvious affection in her eyes. The most daunting part of his frustration was that he wanted to find a place near her as well, but felt unable to do so. He had defied fate, defied his father and even defied the will of the FireHeart. Now, he suffered defeat at the simple, silly etiquette of her royal world, something so infuriatingly bizzare that he was ashamed by his inability to overcome it.

"I am sorry, Elsa. I do not know how," he admitted, fearful of turning away from her grace but unable to respond to it.

With a single, pathetic glance, he backed away from her hopeful eyes and walked away, finding that in spite of all he had accomplished, in all he had done, laying his claim upon her heart was the most impossible task, if only because he suffered an unsure heart.

Elsa's chest fell as she gasped, looking to the ground as he left and feeling a coldness wash over her unlike anything she had felt before. It felt as if everything had just ended, quietly and without fanfare. Even as she had often tried to define her feelings for him and had just as often come up wanting, she had no idea how to feel as he walked away. It was like emptiness, but twice as deep. She couldn't admit that anything had ended because nothing had every truly began, but that didn't make the despair any lighter or any less painful. All she knew was that seeing him walk away from her was the exact opposite of what she wanted, though she had no idea how to make him stay.

For a moment, she shivered at the end of her first love, without ever really feeling she had it in the first place.

Returning to the dinner, the queen quietly slumped into her chair, ignoring anything her guests had to offer and only thinking about how terrible she felt. The awkwardness of the evening had been a mere shadow for what followed, for no one knew what to do when she was obviously so distraught and any measure of victory they had for driving away the scandalous Prince Yasha fell away to the regard they had for her mood. She didn't eat when food was presented to her. Her eyes wouldn't rise to their voices. It was as if she were frozen, victim of a coldness she couldn't control.

Long after the others disappeared and the table was cleared, Elsa rose from her place and walked solemnly into her castle, still strangled by her dark and frigid mood. She was looking for Anna, for her sister was really the only person who could chip away at the shell around her and the only one who she could cry to. Ironically, she didn't even know why she felt like crying, but her heart had been mysterious lately. All she knew was that she wanted Anna and the shoulder she would undoubtedly provide.

"Well, you look terrible. I don't think I've ever seen you make such a face."

Anna's voice pierced the air and couldn't have come at a better time, but as the hopeful Elsa looked up to meet her beloved sister, she found that the princess wasn't talking to her but to another figure standing at the other side of an ancient pillar.

When she heard the other answer, Elsa instantly ducked behind the stone, as fearful of the voice as she had been any other thing in her life.

"While I would question at what point you became an expert on my mood," Yasha replied, then sighed heavily and was obviously as troubled by the situation as Elsa, "I find there is little that escapes your all-seeing eye, Anna."

Finding that he had beaten her to Anna's side, Elsa felt strangely angry, though with equal parts of anxiety and excitement mixed in. Trying desperately to keep her breathing quiet and twisting her fingers together at her chest, she stared forward, in opposite direction of the two that mingled behind the pillar, not sure whether she should make her presence known or simply find another time to approach. It was the both of them that she wanted to see, even if she couldn't think of what to say to either, so she remained behind the pillar, clutching the cold stone as if she were a part of the castle.

"You got that right," Anna remarked smugly, though her voice then became noticeably softer. "So I take it the dinner didn't go well?"

Yasha snorted, with sounds of his hands running through his carefully crafted hair. "You have a gift for understatement," he replied heavily.

"The dinner was a disaster."

"Oh, come on. It couldn't have been that bad. You didn't light the tablecloth on fire or something, did you?" she asked impishly.

"I could have done no worse had I set the room ablaze," he groaned, not even bothering to maintain his secrets about the FireHeart buried in his chest. "They were questions, Anna. Simple words, yet I buckled against them like a coward and made a fool of your sister. What defense do I have against their truths? How could I possibly spare her the humiliation of my past?"

"For a guy who goes around kidnapping princesses, throwing fire from your hands and leveling entire volcanoes, you sure whine about the dumbest things," Anna sighed.

Yasha sighed as well, butting his head back against the stone pillar.

"That is hardly helpful."

"Okay, you did some questionable things in the past, but don't think you've paid enough for them? I mean, you died, Yasha! Who can even say that?" Anna said, feeling weighed down by his mood. "And maybe you're a little too good at those questionable things, but that's not who you really are. You're a better person than you give yourself credit for, and that's good enough for me."

"And it's good enough for Elsa too."

Hearing it retold, Elsa was reminded of the reasons she chased him, in spite of all of the reasons she shouldn't. In truth, he was all of those things the others accused him of, but also the person that Anna championed as well. He wasn't just the criminal and not just the prince, but infinitely something more. His duality only made him more beautiful and even thinking about it made an aching smile cross her red lips.

"It does not seem good enough for your Arendelle's court," Yasha argued, the bitterness apparent in his voice.

The princess blew a raspberry through her lips, obviously not giving much weight to that. "What do they know? Besides, they'll come around once they see all of the wonderful things that you have deep inside. You know, like really deep. Bottom of your feet, actually," she teased, hoping to lighten his mood.

When he only scoffed once more in response, she decided to lessen the jokes and go back to the honest, embarrassing things she felt for him, those same things that she knew Elsa shared.

"You're in love with her, right?"

The question made Elsa's heart seize and she nearly chirped loud enough to reveal herself, though she had been quick to cover her mouth to try and eavesdrop on something she hadn't been expecting. Her blue eyes simply rolled to the side, as if she could see what kind of face he was making when being asked such an important question.

Yasha let out a strange sort of laugh.

"Why do you ask me questions of which you already know the answer?"

Standing on opposite sides of the pillar, Elsa mirrored Yasha inversely, leaning forward in terrifying anticipation while he leaned back against it, his eyes cast upwards in reflection of his affliction. He suddenly sighed and gave into the truth of it, as if was as daunting as the fate he had severed with her help, if not infinitely more unconquerable.

"Though I am even more ignorant of love than I am of being a proper prince, there could be no other way to describe how I feel for her," he admitted.

"I love her."

The answer made Elsa's knees weak and she once more stifled a gasp, though now her eyes were glaring forward in awe, her mind still trying to process what her heart had long-since understood. Yasha revealed his feelings in many ways, some that she recognized instantly and others that took a great deal more time, but while she had been certain there was something between them, it had never been stated so bluntly, so much so that there was no way for her to escape them. While she felt bad for hiding from them, to know how he truly felt was exhilarating, if not utterly frightening.

There was no more getting around it. Yasha was in love with her.

And she was certain she was in love with him.

"Well, at least you'll finally admit it, in your own frilly kind of way," Anna sighed, as if she had known all along and was only now being vindicated.

Then she muttered to the side, "Now only if I could get Elsa to be so honest."

Not hearing the last part, Elsa walked away from the opposite side of the pillar, her hand still over her lips and her other arm wrapped around her. She needed time to think about what had been said, for whatever doubts she had been feeling were instantly shattered by his confession, making her previous dilemma seem distant and moot. It was no longer a simple matter of trying to help him fit in, for the stakes were far higher and the consequence critical. She knew where he fit now, but that puzzle was as daunting as trying to conceal her powers from the world. She was keenly aware of the many forces against him being there, with so many voices speaking out against it, but she was also now aware that no matter how difficult it seemed to let him go before, giving in to the currents of the kingdom when she knew of his feelings made the idea of parting unbearable, so much so that she was already trying to figure out how to bring him back to the table.

As an idea flashed into her mind, an embarrassing and outrageous idea that would afford her no pretense, her pace picked up as she headed back towards the dining area, a new expectation of the evening already swirling in her mind.

Elsa knew it was up to her to answer Yasha's feelings.

Bowing to the currents of reality, it was several nights before Elsa worked up the courage to send for Yasha again, though she was completely unsure whether he would comply. She had been waiting in a smaller room, though the placements were just as grand and far more intimate. Unable to sit, she was pacing by the table, tapping her hands together nervously as she tried to distract herself with anything else in the room.

Just as she reminded herself yet again to calm down, the door was broken open and a guard allowed Yasha to enter, once more dressed in the finest formal wear and neatly groomed, painted to play the part of prince for yet another uncomfortable night.

Seeing him froze her in place and their eyes met across the empty, quiet room.

"Am I early?" he asked after a moment, still pulling at his collar and stepping reluctantly into this world she had created as the door was closed behind him.

She flushed, stepping towards him but unsure of the expression she wore. "No," she squeaked, as much surprised by her voice as he was, though she had already tried to prepare her for this task and clung to the courage she had tried to gather beforehand, "You're right on time."

Her anxiety revealed her mood and he took a look around the room, as if something was just waiting to leap out and assault him. His tense posture was contagious, though she quickly moved forward before she lost all of her nerve. "I thought that this might be a little quieter for us…for you. To make you feel more comfortable. I can't really do anything about the servants, and all we have is silverware. I'm not even sure I can provide the finer points of conversation," she explained, nervously tucking her hair behind her ear and taking another small step towards him, though retreating just as quickly, for she had no idea where to stand or how to act at the moment.

"I know this isn't the life you're used to, Yasha, but if you give me a chance, I'd really like to help you be the prince that I know you are, without all of the other distractions. I really just want you to be here."

"With me."

Yasha let a slow breath out from his nose, staring at her with the same ferocious eyes he had so often showed her. He hadn't expected to be ambushed like this and his clenched jaw showed how delicate the subject was, but to see the queen of Arendelle fidgeting as she tried to dig through his masks made his indignation subside, for while the entire prospect of becoming something he wasn't left a bitter taste in his mouth, it might also be the only way he could move forward towards the things he now wanted.

And the thing he now wanted most was standing right before him.

"All of this, just to search for some prince lost in the shadows of his past?" he said, still retaining the reservations in his heart. "I did not expect you to be so bold."

She laughed nervously, rubbing her arm and trying to shrug off his observation. "Yeah, you and me both," she replied.

His neutral response made her flush even more, though she had come so far in her pursuit of him that no action seemed unruly, as if nothing she could do at this point would embarrass her further than how she already felt.

Squaring his shoulders back and trying to embrace the part, he suddenly stepped forward to close the distance between them, quietly amused at how his approach suddenly sent new waves of fear through her blue eyes and made her posture stiff and frozen. While he wouldn't admit it, he still reveled in the effect he had on her. "And what would you do with this prince, should you find him beneath the pauper's shell?" he asked, slowly and deliberately reaching out and taking her wrung hands, calming them even as he threw her heart into a torrent of anxiety.

Her mouth hung as heavily as her breath, her eyes ensnared by his equally bold behavior. In truth, she hadn't really thought that far ahead, but she was emboldened by his admission to Anna, the claim that she already had a measure of his heart. With no around see their intimacy, she was pulled by the desires of her own heart and parted her lips to speak, even if she had no idea what she would say.

"Shall we begin, Your Majesty?" asked one of the servants, who had stuck her head into the room at the most inopportune moment.

Being caught in such close proximity to him made Elsa yelp in surprise, with her tenuous control over her magic shattering at the state of her heart. There was a flash of light where their hands met and he suddenly jumped back, grunting as he shook his hand, which was covered with a fine layer of frost.

"Yasha! Oh, I'm sorry! Are you all right? Let me see," Elsa cried, trying to get a good look at what she had done to his hand.

"No, it is nothing," he replied quickly, seeing how fearfully she reacted and trying to diffuse her fear, "I am frighteningly accustomed to being at the mercy of your magic. That was rather tame compared to the past."

While his humor was notoriously dry and often misunderstood by anyone other than Anna, Elsa found it relieved her considerably, though she continued to try and comfort his frosted hand. "You know I'd never do that on purpose. I was just a little surprised, that's all," she said, giving the servants a sharp glance before looking back and letting a sigh of relief settle over her as she watched him shake off her ice.

"Are you sure you're all right?" she pressed again, though was happy for a chance to once more seek his hand.

Tucking his hand behind him, he waved off her concerns. "I have endured worse," he noted, then tried to move them away from the subject by gesturing towards the table, "Come now. You have gone to great lengths for this evening and I would not see it ruined by a little misplaced magic."

Following his suggestion, the two moved in and sat across from one another, trying to settle in as fine foods and drink were set out before them. Elsa could still see the anxiety in him from being served, especially the way he leaned away from the servants as they moved around him, but she was confident she could break through that and help him relax. In spite of her intent, the silence at the beginning of the dinner was oppressive. He showed reluctance in all that he did and she was quietly surprised at just how much he didn't know about polite society and table manners. She often had to remind herself that this prince didn't just miss out on the luxuries that a palace afforded, but had lived for many years like a wild animal. Sometimes she wondered how he had become as polite and well-spoken as he was.

In time, they found their pace as they recalled their most emotional common ground; the journey together to Fria. For a subject heavy with pain and tragedy, it was the most intimate thing for them and she found that asking about Oma and the well-being of his people lit an entirely new light within him, for he spoke of them with such affection that she felt a strange sort of jealously, though just as much happiness at having this unique place upon his path.

She was glad to have this connection to exploit.

Talking of these inclusive things took them beyond the meal, holding them together as they left the dining room and strolled through the quiet halls of the castle, where the night had thinned out the usual hustle of servants and maids. Only the occasional guard was privy to their nighttime stroll, with their voices hushed by protocol and privacy, but struck by an unusual lightness that didn't often follow, yet seemed so right.

Even after the clocks of the castle were striking past midnight the two of them walked, sometimes in silence and sometimes so close they could touch, but seemingly so content that time was as far from them as the sleeping kingdom and the fatigue couldn't sway their beating hearts.

It was only until they found themselves before the queen's bedchambers that the passage of the evening found them, and they were as unsure of what to do about one another as they were sure of their own desire not to part.

Elsa had been looking up into Yasha's eyes for longer than she remembered. Being alone with him had stirred up many memories of their journey to Fria. Hate and anger had been their beginning, but now it was something just as potent that possessed her. She found her mind long enough to turn to the Royal Guard that stood by her door, smiling and laughing in violation of her station, though completely unable to hid her emotions.

"Can you give us a few moments?" she requested, not sure why she didn't just order it as a queen should, but then looked back to her elusive prince, trying to quietly calm her staggered breathing and voice.

"Alone."

The guard appeared reluctant to obey, but then quietly bowed his consent, leaving them outside of her room and at the mercy of the evening. She had returned to gazing up into his gray eyes, while Yasha was completely smitten by her, though tried to distract himself from their occasion by looking after the guard for a moment.

"Your Royal Guard is quite attentive. Do they stand at your door every night?" he asked.

She responded with a slightly giddy laugh. "Actually, they've only started that recently. Regent Stenson called it 'precautionary effort in light of foreign guests residing in the castle.'"

He laughed a quiet, strange laugh. "To protect the queen from anyone that might try to steal away into her chambers, no doubt," he suggested.

She laughed again as well, though her humor failed her and she once more found herself looking up at him expectantly, though utterly unsure what she demanded. "He's just being careful," she assured him, her chest rising and falling so forcefully that she hoped he didn't notice, though a part of her desperately hoped that he did, "But maybe he should he worry about it, what with a certain someone's habit of taking members of the royal family from their rooms at night?"

"A wise precaution, though perhaps they would be better employed in protecting your guest, for he is surely more at risk at being stolen away," Yasha sang softly, once more reaching out to take her hand into his, which was shaking in return.

His touch made her gasp softly, but she wouldn't back away this time. This overwhelming feeling of love was petrifying, as strange to her as was the bloodlust she had felt when they had first met, yet it was a feeling she didn't want to forget, embracing it instead. Her lips were moving with a thousand things unsaid and she had no idea what would happen should he sudden press his advantage through her door. This fear was unlike the common fears of her life, yet infinitely more alluring.

Secretly, she had sworn to give herself to him, no matter his demands.

"Thank you for this, Elsa," he suddenly said, bringing her out of her daze with equal amount of shrouded fear in his eyes, "Tonight was far more to my liking. I hope we would to do it again."

Whatever fantasies she had were washed away by reality and she fought to contain the mixture of disappointment and relief she felt. By bringing their evening to a close in a professional manner, he spared her the scandal of giving in to the moment, striking up her awe at how well his instincts guided him when proper instruction couldn't. It was his ability to surprise her that continued to stoke the fires in her chest.

"Me too," she replied.

While she had been strangely denied of something for which she was not prepared, she couldn't stand to end the evening with such formality and drew in a deep breath, finding that this sort of attack on him was far more daunting than when she used her magic against him. With her intent plainly set in her eyes, she stepped close and arched up on her toes, capturing the side of his neck with her free hand and pressing her red lips against his cheek. The kiss was unassuming, but it rippled through her with such force that she had to stay there for a moment, for she was sure if she were to meet his eyes after doing something so embarrassing, she would simply die. His hand had instinctively caught her at her waist. His skin against hers was warm and inviting. The loose, awkward embrace they shared made her want to stay they forever, and her mind was amazingly lucid, yet completely in disarray.

She hated this effect he had on her, but loved it all the same.

"Goodnight, Yasha," she whispered toward his ear, holding to his hand as tightly as she could before retreating away from him to flee to her door, where she pressed against it for a moment, turning her head as if she couldn't miss seeing him one more time, though then giving in to her fear of him and how he could easily break her resolve.

She couldn't look back after all.

Elsa quickly pushed through the door and closed it between them, if only for the remainder of the night, while she pressed her back against it at the other side, her fingers to her lips, which were smiling and trying to hold to the memory of him. All of the currents of resistance fell away to the tingling sensation on her lips and she wouldn't be distracted by the way elements of the kingdom opposed them. Her feelings for Yasha transcended logic or common sense, forged by a journey of pain and connection, which only made her think of him more fondly and stripped away all other considerations.

It was unavoidable.

She was in love with him.