Why was this one so much worse? That was the question Hans asked himself after he stabbed the table with the knife that just happened to be at his elbow. Judging by how deep the tip sank into the wood, the queen falling for this drifter was at least a hundred times more infuriating than the princess marrying a simple ice harvester. He remembered all too clearly the shock he'd felt that day when he'd overheard the two guards outside his cell discussing the news. There had been no shock this time; the evidence he'd seen over the past few weeks had made it not a question of "If?" but "When?" So why couldn't he stand it? Why did he wish he could reach through the mirror right now and strangle the two people he saw wrapped around each other?!

Was it because it was the queen and not merely a princess this time? He didn't think so – they were both so high above the men they'd chosen that the slight difference in rank between the women themselves was negligible. Both the pairings were equally incomprehensible.

Was it jealousy? Surely he wasn't that pathetic? No, he didn't care what man had Elsa's heart or her body as long as he got her kingdom and his revenge.

Was it worry over how much more difficult this would make things? No, he had been frustrated for weeks now at how Elsa's paramour had ruined his last plan – cheering, comforting, and encouraging her when she should have been nothing but miserable by now! Even Anna was so happy for her sister and so excited by what she saw happening in her home that she wasn't as upset by the locked gates and once again lonely, empty halls as she should have been. His anger over that was nothing new.

Was it because he could actually see it firsthand as opposed to hearing about it like he had before? No – this way, mercifully, nothing was left to the imagination. Knowing only a few scattered details about how Anna's engagement came to be had been part of the torture. How many nights of sleep had he lost helplessly wondering how it happened? How had a peasant been able to rise when he – who hadn't needed to reach half as far – had failed? How did he do it...?

He had his answer. He had been able to watch the entire affair unfold this time, and he still couldn't understand! What did Elsa see in him? What had he done to her? It made as much sense as Kristoff's success with Anna – none. Hans knew how this game was played, and neither of them had the charm or skills necessary to win. But he did! He knew exactly how to deduce not just what women desired in a lover but what anyone desired in a friend, ally, or confidante, knew exactly what to say and do to gain anyone's trust, and could perform any role they wanted perfectly. How had these two managed to attract the queen and princess without putting any effort into how they presented themselves? What was their secret? Why weren't they punished like he was for their ambition and their audacity to consider themselves equal to royalty? Why?! It was maddening!

Hans didn't know how long he sat there, twisting and grinding the knife deeper into the table, while he watched Arendelle's newest couple hold each other, hating the sight of it but unable to look away. It was long enough for them to finish, compose themselves, and begin making their way back. Well, the weather wasn't really appropriate for anything else at the moment, at least for the doctor (he supposed it wouldn't have bothered Elsa).

Hans had to admire how normal Elsa appeared once they reached the castle – a lifetime of learning to be a good actress would serve her well if she intended to keep this a secret. Hmmm... maybe she had no plans to make a lowly doctor king after all. Maybe she just wanted to have a little fun. That was certainly common enough – how many kitchen girls and chambermaids had his brothers fooled around with? Elsa wasn't the type to do this for casual fun, though. Still, she must have known that no queen, let alone one as despised as she was at the moment (thanks to him), could expect to get away with flaunting tradition so brazenly without consequences she couldn't afford. The thought made him grin. If they meant to go the secret route, he might be able to use this. If he let her secret out, if he could come up with some kind of proof, if they knew what she was up to...

The grin turned into a quiet, satisfied laugh. At himself. For being angry at Elsa when he should have thanked her for handing him such a useful weapon. Once word got out, he wouldn't need magic to turn people against her. There was no greater crime a woman could commit than this, nothing that could bring her more disgrace...

The image that flitted unbidden through his mind at that thought set his teeth on edge again. Hans left Elsa in the throne room receiving reports and news and followed her friend up to the makeshift hospital. Word had spread about his skill, and the people of Arendelle who were still unaffected were being brought to him for all sorts of injuries and illnesses brought on by the severe cold. Coming to him for help and relief like an oasis in the desert, thanking him like he was some kind of hero... As Hans watched him wait on these people like the servant he was, he couldn't help but be baffled again that the queen had chosen him, of all men! This was the man who had done the impossible...

"As heir, Elsa was preferable, of course, but no one was getting anywhere with her..."

He had written the greatest prize off as unobtainable, gone for the easier win, and still lost! The thought of this nobody making such a conquest after his own had failed so abysmally enraged him enough to obliterate all memory of any advantage such a scandal might give him. He didn't care how useful it could be to him – he wanted the man dead as soon as possible. If Kristoff wanted the silly little princess, he could have her, but the queen was his! Her and her kingdom and her throne! He had worked and suffered for this too long to see some lowlife outdo him! The hatred and disgust he felt for the man was so intense, it was almost unbearable. Hans vowed that the first chance he got, he didn't know where or when or how and didn't care, whether with his sword or his crossbow or his bare hands, he would kill him. It was obvious from the man's attitude and manner that it would be only too easy; all he needed was an opening.

He didn't get one that day. He knew he had no hope of sneaking into the castle while Elsa had it under such heavy guard until he got more of the guards on his side. He'd meant to work on that, but he'd been so preoccupied with monitoring this bizarre turn of events that he hadn't taken the time to recruit as many as he'd hoped. There was nothing to do but wait until the man left the castle alone. In the meantime, he got back to work spotting those who were sick of the cold and chatting them into mistrusting Elsa, prepping their heart or vision to be frozen by the Snow Queen, whom he knew was always watching. He had no intention of discussing this latest development with her until he'd taken care of the problem; there was nothing she could do anyway, except laugh at him.

Hans checked the mirror repeatedly throughout the day, but the man never left the castle without Elsa or the captain; apparently, he wasn't exempt from Elsa's frustratingly effective new security measure that no one leave the grounds alone. At sunset, he finally had to admit as he returned to his room and threw the blank mirror back on the table that he wasn't going to get the opportunity he needed before nightfall. The intruder got to live for another night. No mystery how he would spend it – Hans was amazed they had waited even this long. Well, six of his brothers had always insisted it was more fun after dark, but he didn't know if the lovers agreed with them, or had just been too busy today, or were taking precautions against getting caught; by coincidence, he hadn't overheard any of their plans or discussions to that effect during any of the times he spied on them today.

Hans wondered about that as he finished lighting the candles, which contributed little to the gloomy light cast by the fire, and stared out the window at the castle in the distance. Where were they now? He remembered how his oldest brother had bragged about doing it in their parents' room his first time... Oh, the stories he had heard from the twelve of them growing up! He wondered which type of girl Elsa would be her first time – the adventurous, curious type; or the timid, nervous, shy type? He would have loved to see the look on her face...

He could. He turned around and stared at the mirror lying on the table. He now understood what his brother had meant years ago after he returned home from that skirmish on the northern border and told the rest of them about how he had watched a wounded soldier have his leg amputated – how you couldn't bear to watch, but you couldn't look away. He still didn't see what was so disturbing about that, but this... it was the last thing he wanted to see – the mere thought was repulsive enough, but it was so tempting for that very reason. He had ordered himself not to look again until late the next morning, but he couldn't resist. If he didn't have the power to stop it, at least he had the power to see what no one else would. It was that thought that made him grin as he picked the mirror back up and sat on his bed with his back against the wall.

Dusk had turned to darkness by now – no sense waiting any longer. Hans instinctively listened for the sounds of any movement in the hallway outside his door, but all seemed quiet on this floor – unlikely anyone would disturb him. With the same eagerness with which he'd made his first kill in his first battle, he whispered, "Show me Queen Elsa." His reflection disappeared in a swirl of light that burst to reveal... the two lovers walking up the grand staircase inside her ice palace.

The sight was so unexpected that it took a minute to register in his brain. Granted, he'd had no idea where he would find them, but Elsa's frozen fortress wasn't even on his list of possibilities. Not in this weather. Maybe it made no difference to Elsa, but how comfortable would it be for her friend? They must have been up there for the past few hours, waiting until nightfall to head back down the mountain and sneak in... no, that would have increased their chances of getting caught. Besides, they were clearly just arriving. They had brought no supplies with them that he could see. What were they up to?

Elsa raised her arm, causing the doors to the balcony to swing open for them (she had expanded the balcony since the last time Hans saw it). They walked to the railing together and looked down and around them for a second before turning to each other and embracing in a long, lingering kiss. They held each other close, not with the senseless hysteria of desperate victims seizing what they couldn't get enough of, but as if slowly taking the time to savor every sensation, every touch, every motion, every bit of the other's presence, ever part of this moment where they had everything they could ever want.

Their lips parted slowly, putting a few inches between their faces but none between their bodies. "What happened to the ice?" Bruce asked with a smile.

"You like it?" Elsa lowered her arm and crumpled a fold of her dress in her fingers. "I didn't need to wear ice when I came back, but I liked the design, so I had a few fabric imitations made. I've hardly ever worn them, though – being surrounded by my element feels more natural – but I thought it would make things more... comfortable for you."

"Good idea," he laughed.

She cupped his face in her hands and kissed him again. "How does it feel?"

"Perfect," he whispered.

He brushed a lock of hair out of her eyes and let his fingers travel down the braid hanging in front of her right shoulder until she asked, "What?"

Bruce shook his head. "Nothing, I just... I've always wondered..." He raised his head, smiling derisively at himself. "You know, in all the time we've spent together, I've never seen you with your hair down."

Elsa smiled at his confession. "How do you think it would look?"

"I don't know."

"Would you like to find out?" She made no movement except to give her head a slight shake, as if inviting him.

Without hesitation, Bruce closed his eyes and leaned forward, pushing her braid over her shoulder in the same motion. He put his arms around her back as they kissed, pulling the thin band free from the end of her braid, then unraveling the strips of hair layer by layer, slowly working his way up to the back of her head. When he felt nothing but free strands of hair running through his fingers, he opened his eyes and backed away to take in the sight of her with her magnificent, thick, lustrous, white mane flowing free and unbound down her back and about her shoulders.

"So how does it look?" Elsa asked him, sweeping her right hand through her hair.

"More beautiful than I imagined," Bruce answered truthfully, burying his fingers in the soft layers as he kissed her. When they finished this time, he pressed her against his heart, and she leaned her head against his left shoulder, nestled in the crook of his neck.

They stood that way – their eyes closed, without moving or speaking, listening to the wind rush over the mountain and to each other's heartbeats – until Elsa, without opening her eyes, whispered, "Why me?" When his only answer was to tighten his grip around her waist and shoulders, she turned her face so that she could kiss his cheek. "Why me?" she repeated.

His cheek next to hers, his eyes closed, Bruce took a deep breath and answered, "Because you're the kindest, bravest, most beautiful, most amazing woman I've ever met." There was a pause before he asked, "Why me?"

"Because you're a hero. And you've been through so much. And you're so strong and smart and brave and kind. And you're the first person I've ever met who knows how it feels."

Bruce opened his eyes. "You could have anyone..." He remembered the looks he'd seen sent her way at the ball.

"What, you mean those arrogant, rich snobs who come here looking for a beautiful trophy to wear on their arm, with a new title and kingdom to go along with it?"

"They can't all be like that..."

She finally raised her head so that they were standing face to face. "No, I've had suitors who are gentlemen, who are nice, whom I enjoyed doing business with, and who I think liked me for myself and not just my kingdom or my title, but I've never been able to picture myself married to any of them. Even the nice ones were all... well, shallow and boring. They've lived in ease and luxury their whole lives. They've never had to struggle or endure or work for anything. They've never needed to be strong. They've never known what it's like to suffer. It's impossible for me to connect with them."

Bruce could only sigh and say, "They can offer you so much more..."

"They can offer me everything except friendship and empathy," Elsa said, cutting him off. "And a strength I can admire. I may have respected some of them, but I never felt anything more than that, no matter how nice they were. I never knew what it was like to love, nothing even close... until I met you."

Bruce put his hands on her shoulders and held her at arm's length. "Look at me. This is all I have."

Elsa put her right hand on his shoulder and her left on his heart. "And it's worth more to me than all the suitors I've ever had combined." She reached up and stroked his right cheek. "I love you, Bruce."

He put his right hand over hers and kissed her palm. "I love you, too, Elsa... I love you so much." She waited, bracing herself for what she sensed was coming. He shuddered as he said, "I don't want to hurt you."

He could feel the demons of his past clawing at the back of his mind, but Elsa refused to let them reach him: "You won't."

He shook his head and looked directly into her eyes. "I will. One way or another, it'll happen. It always does. You can't forget: I'm a monster."

"If you are, so am I."

"He's different. I'm in control now, but he will come out again – he always does."

"Don't be afraid for me, Bruce. I'm not."

He turned aside in the direction of Arendelle. "What about them?"

Elsa followed his gaze. Eventually, she sighed and, without turning to look at him, said (her choice of words revealing she was answering her own questions, not his), "Even after we find a cure for this... no, most of them could never accept it, would never be able to understand. I can't ask them to live in fear."

"Then what are we doing?" Bruce asked himself more than her.

Elsa let go of him and put both her hands on the railing a she looked down at the snowy ground. "Do you want to stop? Go back to being allies and pretend this never happened?"

"No!" he exclaimed instantly, jolting towards her but not touching her.

She turned back to him. "Why not?"

He placed one hand over hers where it still lay on the railing and the other on her shoulder. "Because that would be even worse."

She threw herself into his arms, and he felt her trembling. "I know it can't last. I know it's only for a little while. I know nothing will come of it. I know we can't marry. I know what I'm doing – don't worry about that." She pulled back so he could see the sincerity, longing, and determination in her eyes. "I want to be with you, Bruce – as much as we can, in any way we can. This is my choice."

"Mine, too." He felt a thought forming at her choice of words, but he swerved before he could get close enough to recognize it – his first concession to denial. He escaped by losing himself in their kiss. They were both smiling when they drew apart. "What happens now?"

Elsa thought for a second. "I want to tell Anna. I know she'll be thrilled for us."

"And Kristoff?"

"He'll know, too, naturally."

"Then what do we do? How do we make this work?"

"We take it one day at a time," Elsa said matter-of-factly, "making every moment count, enjoying it while we can, as long as possible."

"Is that allowed here?"

"It's not like we've been trying to hide the fact that we're friends or that we like spending time together. There's no reason why we can't continue. How we feel about each other is nobody's business."

"But things have changed…"

"We're not hurting anybody. We're not doing anything wrong."

"That's not what it will look like…" Bruce shook his head and pinched the bridge of his nose as he turned away from her and looked over the railing, trying to force his tongue to say what his brain refused to acknowledge.

"I know, I know," Elsa said, not impatiently, but as if she were dodging a dangerous thought now, too. "We'll have to be careful. We won't give them any cause to suspect anything, no matter how untrue. I don't want to share such a precious treasure with strangers anyway."

No matter how untrue. Bruce hung his head and looked blankly down at the valley below them. Elsa had just made her expectations perfectly clear, and they'd been no less than he'd hoped for. So why couldn't he bear to tell her the whole truth? Why didn't he tell her why it would never happen? That they didn't even have the freedom of choice in the matter? What was he so afraid of? He turned towards her and said weakly, "Love isn't supposed to be this complicated."

Elsa clasped his hand firmly in hers. "That doesn't matter. Don't worry about the complications, the limitations, my reputation, protecting me, what we can or can't have. Just forget all about that and let me love you."

There were a few seconds of silence – you can't conceal it, you can't hold back – then he finally said, "I can do that." That much, he could do. But how much more? he suddenly wondered. Was this the time and place to test that? Then his arms were around her again, his lips against hers, his hands exploring every line, every curve, every inch of her body that he could reach – that far, he could go. She didn't resist, just kissed him more fervently as her hands roved over his arms, his shoulders, his back, his chest – this much, he could give her. It was no less passionate but more ardent and intense than any of their kisses had been so far – this much, they were allowed. It was a long time before they stopped, the boundary reached, the limits pushed as far as they dared, the reason why still unspoken.

They now leaned against each other, facing the railing of the balcony, sometimes looking up at the stars, sometimes down at the snow, neither of them speaking except for the occasional sigh of contentment, Bruce lightly stroking her hair. It was once again a long time before Elsa broke the silence: "If we want to get back before the next watch, we should go now." She had mapped out their journey precisely so that they could get inside at different points at different times amongst others going in, as well, without the guards getting suspicious, and then meet again to say good-night without getting caught by any of the servants.

"Whatever you say, Your Highness," Bruce said playfully.

"Wait." Elsa turned and took a few steps away from him to where her hairband had fallen after he dropped it earlier. She picked it up and quickly set about rebraiding her hair.

Bruce now regretted that he had accepted her offer, as she couldn't possibly hope to recreate the intricate plait two maids put it in every morning on her own. "Don't bother," he said. "It'll look suspicious either way."

"There's nothing suspicious about my braid coming undone and me redoing it," Elsa explained.

Bruce watched her, confused. "Why not just leave it, then?"

"Because I don't want anyone to see me with my hair down except you."

A few minutes later, they stepped off the balcony, hand in hand, onto a wide pillar of ice over two-hundred feet high that had just risen up to meet them. With her free hand, Elsa slowly lowered them down until they were standing on a flat disc of ice barely an inch thick at the bottom of the huge cliff. Still holding hands, they made their way over to the path where they would ski the rest of the way down to Arendelle, except without the skis.


"Good evening, Your Majesty." Elsa smiled and nodded at the sentry as she walked through the gate. When the queen was out of sight, he sighed and shook his head with worry. "I do wish the queen would give up these late night forays in light of recent events."

"She needs some peace and quiet now more than ever," said his companion.

"But it's not safe. Why does she refuse to let anyone accompany her?"

"She needs some time to herself. To be alone, to think. Besides, nobody could get up there as fast as she can."

"I still say it's too dangerous."

"For the princess or the last queen, yes, but I pity the fool who would try to attack Queen Elsa."

Another guard heard the end of the conversation as he walked by. What a waste of concern! If only they knew that the witch's days on the throne were numbered! He managed to restrain himself for the moment, however, and give them a friendly nod and wave as he passed.

One of the sentries followed the man with his eyes until he turned the corner. "What is it?" his partner asked.

"He's been acting strange lately."

"Aren't we all? We're under a lot of strain these days." In a different tone, he added, "I wouldn't worry about it – if he were affected, it would be obvious."

"How?"

"Something about the eyes, the way they talk... you can't put your finger on it, but you can always tell."

"What if they tried to hide it?"

"They can't hide it. If they could, they would be."

"True... my wife went to the tailor's with her friend yesterday and said everything was fine when they left, but she could tell she was affected by the time they got home. I didn't believe it until I went to see her for myself."

"My wife didn't believe me, at first, when I told her to stay away from our neighbor, but I could see he had caught it and..." More stories were shared and notes compared and discussed, but the concern that had started the conversation was forgotten.

Bruce joined Elsa when she passed the library, where he had been waiting for her, pretending to read something (it might have been a biography of some famous explorer, but he couldn't remember). As Elsa had calculated, they encountered no one on the route they took up to his room. When they were outside his door, they cast a few quick looks up and down the hall, then shared one last kiss.

"Good night, Elsa," Bruce whispered when he let her go.

"Good night, Bruce." She turned and walked away without another word, sighing with relief when she heard the door open and close behind him. Mission accomplished. If they had gotten through today, why shouldn't tomorrow and every other day be just as successful? This could actually work! They could do this!

Elsa had to speed up her pace as she remembered the events of today. She couldn't contain the joy coursing through her. She raised her arms above her head and spun around, scattering snowflakes and crystals of ice around her before sweeping them back in and disintegrating them. She danced and twirled down the halls and up the stairs, surrounded by flecks of ice and snow, struggling not to shout or laugh out loud. She felt like she could dissolve into a shower of snowflakes and fly away into the sky, lighter than air. But now wasn't the time. She should try that again tomorrow!

Tomorrow... how could she sleep tonight? She felt like she'd never be tired again. She never knew being in love would feel like this. She never dreamed she would feel this way about anyone. And the person who had done this to her... who would have ever predicted what he'd be like? She certainly never would have guessed… The thought was only half-finished when she had to put her hands over her mouth to stifle her laugh because something told her that it was a lie, that some part of her should have known that this was how things would turn out the day she met him...

The realization made the roaring bonfire in her soul die down into a comfortably warm blaze. Elsa leaned against the wall and sighed, weak and dizzy from the rush of emotions, as her body relaxed and the sense of elation settled down. She noticed she had reached her floor and walked sedately down the hall to her chambers, still beaming, but calm. All day, the situation had struck her as incredible and surreal; now, it seemed perfectly natural, as if she should have seen it coming all along. The change reminded her of a song from one of her and Anna's favorite love stories when they were little, before they'd been separated. She started humming it softly under her breath, spinning slowly around again as she walked, tossing her braid over her shoulder and behind her back, swirling thin ribbons of snow around her in tune with the song...

She didn't start at the voice behind her because she recognized it so well: "New... and a bit alarming..."

Elsa laughed as she turned to face Anna, singing the line she'd just been humming. Elsa picked up where she left off, singing the next line, "Who'd have ever thought...", and Anna finished it with her as they reached each other, took each other's hands, and spun around: "... that this could be?"

Anna continued after they stopped: "True... that he's no Prince Charming..."

Elsa didn't continue but said in mock indignation, "But he's ten times the man any Prince Charming could ever hope to be."

"How dare you steal our song?!" Anna joked before she threw her arms around her sister, as excited as she was. Elsa shushed her, even though the chances of any servants being around to see or overhear them in the royal family's private quarters at this hour were next to nothing. Anna stepped back while Elsa opened the door to her chambers. "Elsa, look at you – you're glowing."

"I bet I am." She gestured for Anna to follow her inside. Once the door was closed behind them, she asked sarcastically, "And just what are you doing up here this late?"

"Waiting for you to come home! What are you doing coming in here this late?" Anna asked in the same tone.

Elsa took one of the few lit candles and walked around the room, lighting the rest. "Now you know how I felt all those nights you went out with Kristoff."

"Don't flatter yourself – I couldn't care less how late you came home if I'd gotten a chance to talk to you at all today!"

Elsa laughed but said as earnestly as she could, "I'm sorry – I've had a... busy day. If it's any consolation, I don't think I was in any shape to talk until now."

"I figured," Anna said knowingly. She grabbed Elsa's arm and begged, "Elsa, tell me the truth. Are you... are you really..."

Elsa nodded and took a deep breath. "Yes. Really."

"Yes! I knew it, I knew it, I knew it! I can't wait to tell Kristoff I was right..."

Elsa rolled her eyes and said, "Wish you'd told me," with another laugh.

"I promised Kristoff I'd stay out of it, and I'm glad I did, but it was driving me crazy! I don't know how I survived this long..."

"That makes two of us," Elsa said playfully.

"Well, I've waited patiently, and I've earned my reward. Now you have to tell me everything: How did it happen? Who started it? What's he like? When's the wedding..."

"Anna..." The princess' face fell at her sister's tone. "There's... not going to be a wedding."

"What? Why? What do you mean? But... I thought you were in love."

"I am. Anna, I love him with all my heart!"

Anna could think of only one possible, painful explanation behind her last statement then: "Oh, no, Elsa... doesn't he..."

Elsa shook her head, not wanting there to be any misunderstanding. "No, no, he... he loves me, too. That's not it."

Anna shrugged and tried to sound lighthearted. "Well, then, what's the problem? I mean... I know it's not a match you see every day, but if Kristoff and I could..."

She doesn't know the whole story, Elsa thought sadly. She doesn't know why he could never stay here and rule with me, why our people would never accept him as their king. She shook her head again. "This is different."

"Why?"

Elsa looked at her little sister, desperately wishing she could explain. Would Anna understand, or would she be as afraid as she'd been of the monster that day? Could she trust her? It didn't matter – she couldn't tell Bruce's secret without his permission. Maybe she'd ask him tomorrow. Until then... "I can't say now. I'm sorry."

Elsa was pleasantly surprised Anna didn't plead or protest; she just looked thoughtful for a minute before asking, "This is about his secret, isn't it? The power he couldn't control?"

"Yes."

Anna didn't ask any further questions about that; Elsa suspected this was because she found the answer irrelevant. "But if you two are really in love..."

"We are. We can't get married, but that doesn't change how we feel, and we're going to make the most of any time we do have to be together and make each other happy."

"But how can you bear it, knowing you can't marry him in the end?"

"I don't care about that – it's worth it," Elsa said confidently.

Anna heaved a deep sigh that showed her heart was breaking for her sister. "Oh, Elsa..." She wrapped her arms gently around her again.

"It's all right, Anna. Don't be sad for me, be happy for me."

Anna raised her head and looked up at her sister in wonder. "But it's so unfair!"

"I know, but dwelling on that's not going to change anything."

Anna folded her arms and cocked her eyebrow. "But it's not going to stop you, is it?"

"No."

"It's just so... wild, so reckless, so... unlike you." Before Elsa could ask what she meant by that, Anna leaned towards her and whispered, "Go for it. Your secret's safe with us." Kristoff was included by association, being her other half. "Of course, if I had ever told you I was doing it this way..."

Anna's tone of voice revealed exactly what she'd meant, and Elsa realized she had to clear something up immediately; Anna was the last person she wanted assuming more was going on than really was. "Well, you would have had something far more dangerous and 'reckless' in mind, wouldn't you?" Anna gasped, and Elsa let her recover before she finished: "But you know that's out of the question, right?"

It was obvious she hadn't known, but Anna mumbled anyway, "Oh, oh, yeah... yeah, I understand," clearly disappointed. Elsa decided to let that subject drop. She was grateful that Anna's next question was, "So... what exactly have you two been up to?"

"Well..."

Anna quickly stopped her: "No, wait! Start from the beginning! I want to know all the details."

Elsa sat down on her sofa. She hadn't planned on getting much sleep tonight anyway. "It's a long story."

Anna joined her. "Great!"

For the next few hours, Elsa told her sister everything she could about her first love, and it was impossible to tell whether she was more eager to tell the story, or Anna was more eager to hear it.

Hans had stopped listening after the lovers went their separate ways. He couldn't make any sense out of what he'd seen tonight, least of all how it ended. What was Elsa doing? She wasn't going to marry him, and she wasn't going to sleep with him – what was the point of that? And what was his motive? Not to marry the queen and rule Arendelle, not to sleep with her, nothing Hans could see. And what was all that talk about a monster?

Hans gave up trying to understand them; whatever their reasons, his conclusion would be the same: "What a waste." The man had the perfect opportunity, the way to a throne all but handed to him, and he wouldn't even take it! If Hans had been in his position, he could have… It made the stranger's success with the queen all the more infuriating. And Hans all the more determined to put an end to this farce. He glared at the queen and then her paramour one last time before he lay the mirror down. "Enjoy it while you can."


For several days, they did enjoy it. Elsa continued to lead Arendelle in the fight against this brutal winter, Bruce continued to care for the sick and injured who found less and less people willing to help them, and they both continued to look out for clues; in-between the hours spent fulfilling their duties as queen and doctor, they kept their vow to make the most of their time together.

They continued to spend their free time together just as they always had – studying English, playing chess, reading together in the library, strolling or riding around the fjords – except now, instead of looking at their surroundings with similar thoughts and feelings, they looked into each other's eyes with the same longing. They would touch or kiss whenever the urge struck them without holding back. The taste of each other's lips became as familiar as the sound of the other's voice. They held each other close instead of sitting or walking next to each other. They came to know each other's bodies as intimately as their mutual restraint would allow. They spoke tenderly and openly with no fears or reservations or sense of any barriers. They gave each other not only their time, support, understanding, and admiration, but their hearts and souls and bodies. They valued each other not only as a capable partner and sympathetic companion but as the other half of their soul, and they only felt whole when they were as close as possible. Being together wasn't just a highly valuable luxury; it was a necessity. They fully belonged to each other.

After the first day of their new life, they only made the long trek back up to the ice palace once; the journey was too time-consuming even with Elsa's ice magic to be worth it when walking and talking with no time to stop was no longer as satisfying as it had once been. They wanted to spend one evening in their special place, however, as a couple instead of just as friends, so they did. They had a picnic of hot chocolate and fruit tarts, warmed over a fire in the Great Hall that Elsa's influence prevented from melting in reaction to the heat. They danced under the stars on a roofless, ballroom-sized ice rink she had made as the top floor the last time she raised the towers. They lay in each other's arms on a blanket of soft snow, with nothing but sky above and ice below, as they kissed and clung to each other, losing all sense of time.

It was later than they both knew was wise when Elsa finally put her hair back in its braid and they headed back down the mountain, forced to leave their picnic supplies behind, as, at this hour, Bruce couldn't look inconspicuous either entering the castle with the baskets or returning them to the kitchen once inside. In spite of their blunder, they made it past the guards on duty at the main gate and at the servants' entrance, fifteen minutes apart, without apparently arousing suspicion. Things went smoothly until they reached Bruce's room. They had just said good night and were leaning in for one last kiss when they heard footsteps approaching from both around the corner and down the hall.

"What the...?" Elsa gasped at the sound. Who in the world could that be? The footsteps were too light and too fast to be guards on their patrol, but she knew for a fact that none of the servants were supposed to be up here at this hour.

Not pausing to think or hesitate, Bruce pushed open the door to his room and swiftly pulled Elsa in behind him, closing the door in the same motion without slamming it. They held their breath and listened closely. It sounded like both people stopped near the alcove a few doors away. Elsa recognized the muffled voices of a soldier who had been coming off duty as she came in and one of the chambermaids. It soon became obvious from the sounds that she and Bruce weren't the only ones sneaking around tonight, and they had inadvertently crossed paths with another couple hooking up for a late night tryst.

"I'll clap them in irons for this," Elsa whispered. There was no way she could get out of the room without them hearing or seeing her and getting prime gossip fodder as soon as they did. "What do we do now?"

"We wait," Bruce answered instantly. There was obviously nothing to be done but wait until the coast was clear... which sounded like it might not be for a while.

They both turned around and slid to the floor, exhausted, and sat with their backs against the door. Bruce put his arm around her, and Elsa snuggled up close against him. "I knew I shouldn't have wasted so much time on that move," she sighed. During their hours up in the ice palace, she had tried, once again, to see if she could transform into snow, but she still hadn't managed it. She felt like she'd come closer than all her previous attempts – she had stood in the center of a whirlwind of snowflakes, stretched out her arms, and closed her eyes. She could feel the cells of her body yearning to join the snowflakes surrounding her, to become a part of the blizzard, and had willed her body with all her might to melt into her element, like it did in her dreams, but something resisted her and refused to release it from its solid form. She shot a few curlicues of snow into the air right now as she remembered. "Maybe I'm wrong; maybe it's not even possible."

"Why do you want to do it so badly?" Bruce asked her softly as they watched the amorphous shapes dance in the air.

"I don't know, I just... it's like a craving. I feel like I won't be satisfied until I master it."

"What if you can't master turning back?"

Elsa replied nonchalantly, "That does complicate things a... hmm...", but then she abruptly stopped, dropped her arm (causing all the snow to disappear), and sat up straight, her eyes narrowed in contemplation. "Maybe that's the problem. Maybe, on some level, I'm afraid of not being able to change back, so I'm holding back without meaning to."

"You might have something there..."

"Any suggestions?"

Bruce shrugged and shook his head as they hugged each other closer. "No, but if I weren't afraid, I would tell you to stop trying – from what I've seen, new powers have a tendency to manifest when you're least expecting it."

"That happens often in your world?"

"Yeah – people will be in the heat of battle and suddenly find themselves able to do things they never thought they could do."

"Too late for that," Elsa lamented with a smile. "How do people with powers learn something new intentionally?"

Bruce smiled bitterly as he answered, "By seeing someone they love in danger." They turned and looked at each other during the pause before he continued: "It always happens the same way. You can practice and struggle for years trying to learn some new skill or unlock some new power with no results. But when someone you love is threatened BAM! As soon as you see them in danger, you're suddenly filled with so much resolve, you instantly master it in order to save them. Works every time."

"I'll keep that in mind," Elsa whispered sarcastically. She yawned and rested her head on his shoulder. "Are they still out there?"

"Sounds like it," Bruce replied once he'd stopped yawning.

Elsa groaned softly and reached her arm up around his neck as she closed her eyes. "They'll have to leave when the patrol comes by."

Bruce leaned his head against hers. "Unless he warned them to steer clear of this area until he was finished..."

"I wonder what other sort of things go on in these halls after dark..." Elsa let her arm fall down, and Bruce held it in his lap while he closed his eyes for a second...

The next thing they knew, they were blinking in the dim morning sun, in the same spot, still wrapped in each other's arms. Bruce was the first to realize where they were and sat up with a start, jolting Elsa awake next to him.

Fortunately, it was still about half an hour before Elsa had instructed her maid to wake her, and she crept up to her apartments shaken but unseen. "Are you all right, ma'am?" the girl asked when she found her mistress lying on the sofa in her sitting room.

"I guess I was too tired to go to bed last night," Elsa joked flippantly. "Don't worry, Nora, I'll be fine."

Elsa's private, independent habits may have been unorthodox for royalty, but they allowed her slip-up to go unnoticed. Business went on as usual that morning with nothing in her interaction with anyone to disconcert her. By midday, she had concluded that none of the servants were aware she hadn't slept in her room last night.

Bruce sighed with relief when Elsa assured him of this when she came to check on things in the hospital. "That was a close one," he whispered. She nodded in reply before he went back to work. He was grateful that they were safe, but he couldn't help but fear what getting away with it once would make them bold enough to do...

Neither of them was able to sleep that night.

The next, they lingered a long time outside his door, unable to say good-bye. Knowing they were pushing their luck, Bruce finally forced himself to let go, but Elsa seized his hand again and planted a light kiss on his lips. "I miss you."

He kissed her back. "I miss you, too..."

That was how they began spending the night together. Whenever Elsa could manage it, she sneaked down to his room after her maid left her for the night and knocked softly on the door, and returned to her bed before Nora arrived in the morning. It was still incredibly risky, but no amount of denial could have made their need for each other go away. Bruce needed the feel of her body beside his in the darkness; Elsa needed the touch of his arms around her. In spite of the risk, they never felt more at peace or happier than when they lay side by side in his bed, holding each other as they slept, her head pillowed on his bare chest, her scent filling his nostrils with every breath, kissing each other awake with the dawn.

Nothing more ever happened; neither of them ever suggested anything more ever would. The closest they came was the morning Elsa didn't get up when they awoke but put her arm over him and wished she didn't have to hurry away so soon: "We're not even doing anything wrong..."

"That's not how it would look." Bruce didn't address that to her or to himself – he just said it.

Elsa opened her mouth to say something about how little she cared what people thought of her but changed her mind and just kissed him instead. Like she'd said that first night, even if it made things more complicated, she wanted to keep their love a secret, not from shame, but because it was too precious to share. So much of her life was put on display for the world – they couldn't have this, too!

The kiss became deeper and more passionate without either of them planning on it. It felt so good... Elsa was stunned when Bruce snapped, "Stop! Stop..." and pried himself free as if she'd hurt him. They were both breathing hard.

"What's wrong?" Elsa asked him.

Bruce clutched the monitor on his wrist. "Nothing... nothing, I'm fine. I'm sorry." And he embraced her again and held her gently in his arms as if he were afraid she might break. Elsa clung to him until she couldn't put off her departure any longer. It was the first time they had needed a warning to stop. They both knew there was a line they couldn't cross. It was the only subject they never spoke of.

Elsa never discussed it with him, but she did discuss it with Anna once. They were walking down the hall but paused by a window where they could see it had started snowing outside again. Anna groaned at the sight. "Ugh, not again... does it get this cold where Bruce comes from?"

"Where he lives, yes, but his country's much bigger than Arendelle," her older sister explained. "Some places, he says it never snows... at least not before this winter."

"How big is it?" Anna asked as they started walking again.

"According to him, the third largest country in the world outside."

"Wow... maybe we'll get to see it someday." Elsa smiled and rolled her eyes in amusement – Anna knew such a thing under their laws was impossible. "Why not? You're the queen – you could find a way to do it. Don't you want to visit his home? See where he's from?"

"Our allies wouldn't be very thrilled," Elsa reminded her.

"If he and his friends can stop this winter, maybe things will change," Anna said very suggestively.

"Some things could change," Elsa conceded, "but not everything."

"Kristoff and I hope he'll be the one who saves us from this plague."

"Why him?"

"So you could reward him the way I rewarded Kristoff for saving me from freezing to death in the mountains, and the King of Corona was rewarded for finding the lost princess."

Elsa frowned, wishing the obstacle Anna knew of was the only one. "Anna..."

"I know – you're the queen, there are rules, he's from the outside, he's a commoner, but who knows? If he saved us, maybe it wouldn't matter."

"It doesn't matter anyway," Elsa found herself insisting. Her voice dropped as she said, almost without meaning to, "But they'd never accept it..."

"Not everyone accepted Kristoff, but you and I didn't care. Why do you care what everyone thinks now?"

"It's not about their opinion." They stopped before another window, and Elsa looked out at the town in the distance. She hung her head and sighed. Her thoughts tumbled out of her mouth of their own accord: "They're my people... I have no right to make them live in fear..."

Anna was gentle when she asked, "Fear of what? Why would he be so unacceptable? Why is it so impossible?"

Elsa shook herself back to her senses. "It doesn't matter." They moved on.

"Doesn't matter? You love him!"

"I love my people, too."

"That's why you deserve to be happy!"

"I am happy." Elsa stopped walking and leaned against a window seat. Her smile as she remembered last night showed she was telling the truth.

"Yeah, but..." Anna laid a hand on her shoulder. "Don't you want more?"

Elsa couldn't help laughing a bit. "More? He's the most incredible man in the world – what more could I want?"

Anna crossed her arms and leaned against the wall. "Not what I meant."

Elsa laughed harder. "I know. You've listened to me go on and on about him too much to ever suggest that."

"But I love hearing you go on and on about him! I'm glad to know he makes you so happy."

"He does." Elsa turned back to the window and sighed sweetly. "He's the most wonderful man I've ever met..." It was nothing Anna hadn't heard before, but she could listen to her sister talk like this forever. "… kind, smart, strong, brave, handsome... Whenever I'm with him, there's no place else I'd rather be. When we kiss, it's like fireworks go off in my heart. And when he puts his arms around me, and I can feel his heart beating against mine, I just want to..." She stopped, realizing what she was about to say.

"Yes?"

She couldn't seem to stop. "I want to melt into his body until we're one. I want him to..." But she couldn't seem to finish either.

"To what?"

Elsa took a deep breath, closed her eyes, and leaned back against the wall framing the window seat. "I want... him." She had no other way to describe it. "I want him so much." It was a relief to finally say it out loud.

She opened her eyes and saw Anna was smiling at her, not teasingly but in gentle reassurance. "You know, it's okay to want that."

The absurdity of the situation made Elsa smile again – the older and younger sister were on the wrong ends of this conversation. But as long as they'd started... "What is it like?"

Now it was Anna's turn to laugh – she hadn't been prepared for that. She blushed and looked out the window. She started out slowly but sped up as she talked, clearly forgetting everything about the context as she got more excited: "Well... it's kind of like... see, everyone has a body and a soul, and your bodies can touch, and, when you love someone (whether they're a sister, friend, or lover), your souls can touch. But the only time you can touch another soul with your body, the only time their body can touch your soul, is when you're making love. You know how, when you're in love, your hearts and souls become one heart and soul, and you're always yearning for your other half, and that's the only way for the two halves to join again – to become whole again. It feels like you're melting into each other, becoming one, like you're on fire, soaring through the air, and being struck by lightning all at the same time, and... and..." Her eyes fell on Elsa as she moved her head, and she was suddenly struck speechless. Elsa was still smiling. Anna cleared her throat, shrugged, and turned back to the window. "It's a lot of fun."

Elsa kept her lips tightly closed, but she still couldn't help giggling. "Sure sounds like it." She couldn't help the sigh that escaped her, either, or conceal the longing behind it.

"Don't take my word for it."

"Anna!" She tried to sound indignant, but her laughter ruined the effect.

"What? I'm not your older sister – I don't have to guard your morals."

"Guess I didn't do a very good job cultivating yours."

"Well, you taught me to be practical and rational. For example, two people should only marry and promise to spend the rest of their lives together, forsaking all others, if they truly love each other – if their souls are united as one. And no one should ever make love unless their souls are already united as one, or they put their souls at risk for damage. Therefore, it's only logical that you should never make love unless you love each other enough to marry."

"Excellent reasoning, but..."

"But if, for some reason, two people who are in love, who would like to marry, who would marry, who should marry, can't marry, why shouldn't they still make love? They meet the qualifications. It wouldn't hurt anyone..."

"We'd be hurting ourselves." Anna turned to her sister, but Elsa kept her face towards the horizon and her eyes down.

"Why? Why would it be so wrong?"

"Because we'd be living a lie."

The confused princess stammered, "But... you're already..."

"Protecting our treasure from those whom it doesn't belong to. We have a right to our privacy. If anyone asked me if I loved him, I wouldn't deny it, but I don't have to announce our love to the world – it's none of their business."

"But who you sleep with is?"

"Marriage is the act of proudly declaring your love to the world. If you're too afraid or too weak to make that declaration, you don't deserve to reap the benefits."

Anna couldn't deny that made sense, but she didn't see how it applied in this case. "But it's not your fault you can't get married."

"I made a choice; the circumstances that prompted it are irrelevant," Elsa said firmly. "I have to live with the consequences of that choice. If we secretly became lovers without getting married, I would be saying I was ashamed of the truth. He doesn't deserve that. I don't deserve to have him if we can't do it the right way."

"You sound just like Kristoff." Anna clapped her hand over her mouth as soon as she realized she'd said that out loud.

Elsa, however, only said, "You should tell him that," and gave her sister a hug. "Thanks, Anna."

Anna mimicked her big sister's tone perfectly when she repeated what she'd heard Elsa say too many times to count throughout her life: "Elsa, you're hopeless!"

Elsa laughed as she walked away, but not for long. She wanted him more than she could have ever hoped to describe to Anna – she who had grown up with the firm belief that that would never be... could never be part of her future; who had listened to her mother's description of where babies came from with the same impassive interest with which she read her history books; who had banished the very possibility of such desires out of her mind along with the rest of her emotions. She had been too afraid to be curious, too occupied with maintaining her sanity to care. It's not for me, she had taught herself. Forget about it. And she had, even after the nightmare ended; once she was free to wonder if such a thing was possible for her, it still hadn't mattered. There had been no opportunity, no one to tempt her. It was a desire she had never known... until now...

But she couldn't waste time dwelling on that. She had bigger things to worry about. They still hadn't found any clues about the horrible curse this winter had brought on Arendelle, and, every day, Elsa's fears for her people grew. Her time with Bruce made the struggle against their unknown, invisible enemy easier – he gave her strength and hope – but she would never be at peace until everyone was safe and her kingdom was set free.

Bruce shared her fears for her kingdom, but he had his own burdens to bear as well. As the days went by, he grew more and more worried about his friends. They weren't traveling in the best conditions, of course, so, even though he calculated they could have returned by now, it wasn't necessarily a bad sign that they hadn't. But he was sure they would have reached the destination on the map by now. If they'd found anything there and done anything about it, shouldn't there have been a change in the weather? Since there wasn't, had they failed somehow? Been captured? Injured? Separated and were now wandering around looking for each other? Put under a spell? The possibilities in this world were endless.

Whenever he spoke of it or she could see it was on his mind, Elsa reminded him that any help he needed was at his disposal. If he wanted to form a search party and go after them, she'd have them ready in a day. All of the soldiers knew how much help he'd given them and would be eager to volunteer to repay him at last. She couldn't leave herself, obviously, but Kristoff and Anna wouldn't hesitate to go with him.

Bruce always thanked her, but he never considered it for long before concluding it would have been definitely pointless and possibly dangerous. He couldn't be sure yet that anything had happened to them. Maybe they had reached their destination but found out S.H.I.E.L.D.'s data was wrong and the polar vortex wasn't coming from there at all. They could be perfectly safe, there was just nothing they could do to stop the freezing weather. He couldn't justify the risk of leading a bunch of men into the wilderness on a wild goose chase – even if they managed to survive whatever dangers they met out there, something disastrous was guaranteed to happen in Arendelle the moment they were gone. As worried as he was about Stark and Barton, going or sending a group after them would only make things worse. The safest thing to do was keep waiting... for now.

"It's your call," Elsa always said. It pained her to see him suffer, or to think of anything happening to his friends, but she wasn't as frightened for them as he was. When she told him she was sure they were fine, she was perfectly sincere. After what she had seen and Bruce had told her of their powers and abilities, she found it hard to believe that anything could harm them.

Bruce couldn't hold quite the same awe in their powers that Elsa did – he was used to them, and she wasn't – but he found her certainty surprisingly reassuring. It was an effect she had on him; she projected so much calm, strength, and power that he couldn't help but feel as confident as she did – no one else could have convinced him to open his heart to her.

His fear for her never went away; he was haunted day and night by the thought that it was just a matter of time, that he'd hurt her and everyone and everything she loved and that he was a fool to hope otherwise. Even in their happiest moments, it was never completely out of his mind; he'd lived with this dread too long to ever fully forget it. When it was particularly strong, he clung desperately to her, letting the feel of her strong body in his arms remind him that she was alive and well, that this was what she wanted, treasuring every sensation as if it would be his last chance to enjoy it. But there were other moments like during that night in the ice palace when it was weak, and his joy was strong enough to push it to the back of his mind, when he knew beyond the shadow of a doubt that this was where he belonged, that letting her love him, letting himself love her, was the only right thing to do.

It wasn't confidence in his own ability that had convinced him to ignore his fears and let her in. It was the memory of what had happened the first time he'd decided to trust her. Stop running from him, she'd told him. Don't conceal it. Let it out. Let it go. It had worked. She had taught him how to feel anger without fear; what if she could teach him how to feel love without fear? Every time he felt that familiar black cloud of despair creeping up on him, he remembered that she had been through this all before and conquered it; she had been afraid to love, to reach out to anyone, tried shutting herself away from the world to protect everyone from her dangerous, uncontrollable powers. It hadn't ended there; she had found the freedom to live and love. He could never be as free as she was, but maybe he didn't have to be completely alone, either. Her success gave him hope. She made him believe that it was possible.

The greatest test of his resolve came the day he accompanied Elsa to the port as a ship prepared to return to Andalasia. The two of them were alone; in spite of recent events, Elsa hadn't changed her unconventional habit of never dragging a huge escort of guards and attendants with her whenever she could help it. Since she had no fear for herself, she'd rather have the soldiers guarding the castle or patrolling for any real danger than following her around. She also didn't want any visiting crews exposed to the current dangers of Arendelle a second longer than necessary, and she did everything she could to get its cargo of supplies unloaded, the payment made, and the papers signed as quickly as possible. She knew that, thanks to her efforts, the fjords couldn't freeze any more than the snow that had covered them during her coronation could melt, but she still felt anxious whenever a ship left or entered the harbor. She went and stood on the shore as it departed, watching until it passed safely through the rocks on the way to open sea, and then sighed in relief.

The sight of the magically-liquid, sailable water lapping against the frozen shore still fascinated Bruce, and he told Elsa as they walked back to the castle how much he wished he had a microscope so he could see exactly what happened to water when she froze or unfroze it. He tried to ignore, as Elsa did, the now-familiar whispers of, "Witch," and "Freak" from people as they walked by. He couldn't stand them. They had no right to speak to her this way! What other king or queen would put up with something like this? They heaped all sorts of abuse on a woman they knew could have them locked up and chained up with a word, but she let them get away with it because the alternative was unbearable for her. It was so infuriating to have to watch the way they treated, listen to the things they called her, and not be able to say a single word in her defense! Getting used to a feeling didn't make it any more pleasant.

"Out of my way, witch!" A woman carrying a basket of fish crossed their path. "What are you looking at?" Elsa cleared her throat loudly, and Bruce turned away from her.

"They're not in their right mind," Elsa observed matter-of-factly. That was why she refused to fight back, to use her position the way she was entitled to.

"Doesn't that just make it worse?" This way, you couldn't reason with them. You couldn't scream at them that if it hadn't been for her magic, their harbor would be impenetrable and they'd have starved to death this winter, because you knew it would make no difference. You could do nothing! Not that he could have, anyway...

"Look at you – strutting along like you own us all! You think you're so high and mighty, don't you?" Bruce felt calm enough to venture turning around again – a young dock worker with a beard was following them. This was the first time someone had done that. He turned away, following Elsa's lead and ignoring him.

Another man stepped forward, his eyes wide in indignation. "How dare you talk to the queen like that!" For Bruce, that was more painful to hear than all the insults he'd heard thrown at her – he should be the one saying it.

Elsa raised her hand towards him. "It's all right, sir."

The man continued insulting and berating Elsa as he trailed after them: "We all know what you really are! You're a curse! You and your infernal magic! You cursed the king and queen, and now you cursed us! You ruined their lives, and now you're gonna ruin ours!" Bruce sensed Elsa tense up next to him. "Why don't you go back where you belong? Nobody wants you here, you freak!" He didn't seem to realize that he was talking pure nonsense with no point or basis. "You think you're so special? You really think you're a queen? Aren't you a little old to be playing dress up, little girl? You're not fooling anyone! You don't know what you're doing – you're just gonna keep up this charade 'til you destroy us all! You think you can get away with it?" Bruce and Elsa heard him burst out laughing. "You're pathetic. You think you can just prance around here, flaunting your pretty little magic in our faces, and expect us all to bow down and worship you? How delusional can you get? Help! Somebody call a doctor! The crazy witch thinks she's a queen! What a joke! You know, it was funny for about a day, but it's gotten old. Isn't it time to drop the act and leave us alone? We're all sick of looking at you!" The torture was nothing new to Bruce – this unbearable sense of helplessness and imprisonment – but it hurt more than usual this time. "You're NOTHING! Nothing but a sick, stupid, crazy, wicked old witch!"

Bruce couldn't ignore it anymore – nobody here had ever made him this angry; if he didn't release some of the pressure, he would lose control. He turned to their pursuer and asked in a low voice, "Haven't you had enough? What kind of point are you trying to make? She's never done anything to you. Leave her alone."

"Don't tell me what to do!"

"You have some nerve," Bruce said, his voice rising.

Elsa put her hand on his shoulder. "He doesn't know what he's saying, Bruce."

The man took that as an insult. "I know exactly what I'm saying, witch!"

"Stop calling her that!"

"Make me!"

Bruce clenched his teeth together and took a deep breath. "I'm warning you…" he said icily.

"Stay out of my way." The man jabbed his shoulder, not hard, but enough to make Bruce realize he needed to back off.

"That's enough," Elsa said, stepping forward. "Move along – we're finished here."

"What'd you say to me?" Elsa didn't answer. He continued ranting as she and Bruce walked on; they were almost at the castle. "Who do you think you are?" Elsa didn't answer, even though his voice was practically in their ears now, he was so close behind them. "I said, who do you think you are? Look at me when I'm talking to you! I said, look at me, witch!" He reached for her shoulder.

The rest all happened fast. Bruce grabbed his arm before he could touch her – he couldn't have held back if he tried; the reaction was purely instinctive and irresistible. "Hey!" He got no farther before the man swung back and punched him hard in the face, knocking him down. He hit the snow in the same instant the beeping started coming from his wrist.

Elsa struck out her arm, and a wall of ice quickly shot up out of the ground between the two men. A few guards who had started walking over at the sight of the confrontation now started running. Bruce stayed where he fell, his eyes closed tight, not moving a muscle, pressing his fists against the frozen ground, breathing hard, waiting for the pain to pass and the adrenaline to shut off – there was nothing else he could do.

It wasn't long before the guards led the queen's assailant away, his hands behind his back, and Elsa waved the spectators away. One of the soldiers asked Dr. Banner if he was all right, but Elsa assured him they were both fine, and she had too many questions and instructions for any of them to pay him any more attention. It was over as quickly as it started.

Bruce slowly got to his feet, feeling his jaw with his right hand. He knew he hadn't been hurt very badly; if he had, he wouldn't be here. He saw that Elsa was all right, too. He left her talking with the guards and walked away towards the castle without saying a word to anyone. If anybody approached him on his way, he didn't hear them; he could focus on nothing but the rate of his pulse as he listened for the beeping to start again. His only thought was to get away from everyone, to get himself somewhere he wouldn't have to see or speak to anybody.

He managed to reach his room with no more alarms, emotional or literal. He took one step inside and immediately closed the door behind him. At last – alone and safe! Panting, sweating, and trembling, he threw his coat off, closed his eyes, and leaned his back against the door as if barricading himself in. Had this been a few years ago, after a narrow escape such as this, he would have poured himself a cup of calming herbal tea and sat down to meditate, willing himself not to feel the shame and frustration and contempt trying to consume him. If only he could still do that! He wanted so badly to push it all away, to run from it, pretend it never happened, that it didn't bother him, that he too tough and strong to care. But he now knew that he couldn't. He couldn't be a man. He wasn't allowed to smother the pain. He had to succumb to it. He had to let it consume him. He had to feel it all to keep up his body's immunity to it.

He asked himself what he was feeling. Hate? As unfair as it was, yes – he knew Elsa was right, that those affected were the victims, not the enemy, but that didn't make the things they said any less terrible. He didn't care where the words came from, he hated them!

Anything else? Definitely confusion – what was causing this? Why was it causing it? If an intelligent being was behind this, what was this supposed to accomplish? What could anyone have to gain from freezing people's hearts, as Elsa put it? How did making them torment Elsa benefit anyone? What were they trying to do? He could ask the questions as much as he wanted; he wasn't going to find any answers here and now.

There was something more, something gnawing at his heart and making him sick to his stomach, giving him the urge to cry his eyes out and smash his head against the wall. What was it? Not pure anger – anger made him feel like he was on fire; now, he felt like he was sinking in the thick mud of a swamp and unable to pull himself out. Not fear – the man had briefly pushed him past his limit, but it was over now; he was in no more danger of a visit from the other guy than he always was. Not guilt – no, he would have been guilty if he had been able to resist the urge to stand up for the woman he loved who didn't deserve any of this; he only did what he had to do, and nobody had gotten hurt. Not worry for Elsa – he knew she didn't need him to protect her.

That wasn't the point! A man didn't stand up for his woman because she was weak but because it was right! He should be able to stand by her side, speak up, defend her, fight back! But he had to stay silent no matter what people said, ignore them no matter what they did, run away from all conflict and all potential for conflict no matter who was right and who was wrong. He had to take everything lying down.

What he was feeling was an overwhelming sense of shame – shame that he couldn't stand up like a man was supposed to, like every fiber of his being wanted to. Every man in this kingdom was free to defend Elsa except him. He could only be the weakling who was defeated by one hit, who took a beating without making the slightest effort to fight back, who lay submissively in the snow while others came to her aid. How ironic that the same power that made him an invincible killing machine also made him a complete doormat!

He knew that if he told Elsa any of this the next time he saw her, she would say it didn't matter, she didn't care, she understood. But it mattered to him, and he cared. She deserved better than this. Next time he saw her? How could he look her or anyone who loved her in the face again after what just happened? Today had been the best case scenario. He could feel; he couldn't fight. Feeling anger weakened it; fighting only fed it. That would never change. The only possible different outcome would be if he was pushed so far that he lost control...

He tried to shove away the images that burst into his mind, of what would have happened if he hadn't calmed down. The more you loved someone, the more you hated to see them in danger, more you were willing to fight for them, and the more frustrated you were when you couldn't. He knew all this. So why had he ever put himself and Elsa and everyone around them in so much danger? Surely denial couldn't be more dangerous for his heart than this...

He stayed locked in his room the rest of the day, alone with his shame and crippling sense of helplessness, sometimes leaning against the mantle above the fireplace, sometimes lying flat on his back on the bed, sometimes pacing up and down the floor. He occasionally took a few bites of the fruit and bread that had been left in his room, but he had almost no appetite anyway. A servant knocked twice, but he never answered. He kept the curtains drawn over the window he now wished he didn't have. He couldn't think or try to find a solution to his problem anymore. He just wanted to be alone.

When Elsa saw where he'd gone, she decided the best thing she could do was leave him in peace – far be it from her to disturb someone who needed to be alone from fear of losing control of his powers! She forbade Anna from questioning him either and arranged for others to cover his shift in the hospital. She understood what Bruce must be going through after that frightening moment in the street and knew she had to let him deal with it on his own – when he wanted her, he'd come to her. When night fell and he still hadn't emerged, however, she began to get seriously worried. Why was he avoiding everyone? Why had she avoided everyone? She began to fear that she was losing him to despair, that he was ready to give up everything they had in order to protect her. If she pushed him too soon, she might ruin everything, but she couldn't leave him to torture himself.

Not forgetting the need for discretion, Elsa waited until the castle was quiet and she knew the way would be clear before she went down to his room as if this was any other night. A great snowstorm was raging outside, and every wall echoed with the whistling and howling of the wind. It completely drowned out the sound of her footsteps and the rustling of her gown.

Without hesitation, she knocked softly on his door – three times slow, pause, and three times fast, their special signal. When there was no answer, she repeated it, a little more loudly. Still no answer. She placed her palm against the door, took a quick look up and down the hall, then whispered, "Bruce? It's me. I know you can hear me. I know what you're thinking – something terrible could have happened today, and you can't let it happen again. But look at how it turned out – everything's fine, no one got hurt. You don't need to let it worry you like this. I'm sorry I let it get that far; I should have been more prepared. I promise I'll take more precautions from now on, until all of this gets sorted out. This won't happen again. I know how to handle this – you know I do. Please... talk to me. I want to see you. I want to be with you. This doesn't have to be over just because..." She shook her head and spoke louder: "I know what you're trying to do, and it won't work. It never works – I know. I know what you're afraid of. You think it's too dangerous, you don't want to take any more chances, you're just trying to protect me. But you don't have to do this. You don't have to protect me – I'm not afraid. Please don't..." She stopped, finishing the sentence only in her mind: Please don't shut me out. Her lips were sealed by the memory of another voice saying those exact same words:

"Please don't shut me out again. Please don't slam the door..."

Elsa hung her head. The memory made her realize she was wasting her breath. Bruce was as determined to protect her as she'd been to protect Anna, and there was nothing she could say to change that. As long as he felt that way, he wouldn't open up for her any more than she would have in those days. She took a step back, raised her head, and sighed. So this was what it felt like to be on this side of the door...

Elsa knew she couldn't force her way in – it had to be his choice. She made sure she had a firm grip on her throat and said calmly, "I love you, Bruce. I'll be here if you need me. When you're ready, come see me, please. Good night." With that, she walked away.

She wanted to go to Anna, but that would no doubt lead to too many questions. Anna and Kristoff had figured out Bruce must be upset by the confrontation earlier today, but Elsa had no way to explain, within the limited range of their knowledge, why it would affect him this strongly. She'd just have to wait until the crisis was over; then she could tell them everything was all right now and she'd rather not discuss it. They would accept that. For now, she made her way cautiously back to her own chambers.

Bruce had heard every word. He knew it was Elsa from the first knock. Due purely to having no idea what he should say or do, he stood across the room the entire time with his back to the door, gripping the back of a chair, staring down into the fire, hoping she would think he was asleep and knowing she wouldn't. He knew she understood exactly what he was feeling. He was nonetheless honestly surprised that she came, that she wasn't afraid of him. She knew how dangerous he was when he got angry – he was sure, after today's reminder, she must have been as afraid for her people as he was for her. But her encouraging him like that could only mean she honestly didn't consider him a threat, and he had to believe she wasn't afraid of him.

That did nothing to calm his own fear, and he was planning the best way to tell her that he couldn't let her in anymore when she left him alone. It was the best thing she could have done. It was proof for his heart that she had been down this exact road already and knew the rules of safe travel – something his mind already knew but that his heart, so used to locking up and shutting out at times like this, hadn't been able to accept without reinforcement. She didn't press him like everyone else would have – she let him go. She respected his right to deal with the pain in whatever way he chose because only she could understand that pain. He could trust her. In that moment, his soul longed for hers like it never had before.

Was it selfish of him to still want her, knowing the danger it put her in, whether she cared or not? Selfishness wasn't wanting something for yourself – it was wanting something for yourself at the expense of others, being willing to hurt others to get what you wanted. So what should he call hurting her like this just because he was afraid? He had to see her. He had to tell her he loved her – not tomorrow, not in the morning, now. Bruce sprinted to the door before he could think about what he was doing and unlocked it. He opened it a crack, just wide enough to confirm the hall was empty, before he stepped out and closed it carefully behind him.

Bruce knew exactly where Elsa's chambers were, but he was outside the door before he admitted where he was going. He had never been inside. Practically, of course, it was far more risky for him to come to her room than it was for her to come to his (the chances of getting caught by her servants were higher, and, if they did get caught, the implications and consequences would be far worse), but he knew (and he was sure Elsa did, too) that that wasn't the main reason neither of them had suggested it. It now hit him that it was mad for him to come here under any circumstances, let alone after ignoring her the way he just did. He had no business here. She couldn't possibly want to see him...

He couldn't turn back now. He had to see her, if only for a second, to say he was sorry. Bruce didn't give himself time to hesitate or talk himself out of it. He turned the handle and pushed open the door without knocking or thinking. The first thing he saw was Elsa, standing with her back to him, running her fingers idly over the back of her sofa.

"Elsa," he said desperately. She gasped and turned around, looking as if this was the last thing she expected but the only she wanted. He pushed the door closed behind him, and they ran to each other, connecting in a ravenous embrace and kiss.

Eventually, his arms still around her, he freed his mouth just long enough to say, "I love you."

"I know," she whispered back.

He repeated, "I love you... I love you," not questioning why, just needing to say it.

Elsa finally pressed her fingers against his lips. "Shh." They held each other in silence until they calmed down; then, she took him by the arm and led him through the door to her bedroom.

This time, he was the one who slipped away before her maid arrived, before anyone could see anything that would suggest something that hadn't happened.

The first thing he noticed after he left her the next morning was that the storm was over.


"The storm's over," Hawkeye announced as he closed the cabin door behind him.

"For now," Tony said as his friend put the armful of logs in the wood box. He then took the plate from the young girl standing next to him and dried it with the towel in his hands, the last of the dishes from their breakfast now washed and dried. "We should be going then," he said to her.

She nodded silently and cast a grateful look at Hawkeye. "It's the least I can do," the agent assured her. "We can't thank you enough for taking us in last night, miss – don't know what we'd have done without you." She shook her head, smiling weakly, as if to say it was no trouble.

Tony tried not to stare at their generous, mute hostess, but he failed as badly as he had yesterday. She lived in a tiny cabin with one floor and a loft where she slept, in the middle of what looked like a forest when it wasn't covered in snow (that phenomenon at this latitude had ceased to amaze him long ago), but she didn't look like someone who had been born and raised in this type of environment. She walked and carried herself like she was royalty; he'd seen that attitude too much in the CEOs, male and female, he dealt with every day to miss it. She was always on edge, which, coupled with her secluded home, made him think she was hiding from something. She had let them sleep with a bunch of blankets on the ground floor but had firmly locked and double-checked a small door before she went to sleep – what could someone who looked like she didn't have a penny to her name be hiding in there that was so important? Barton hadn't been interested in his theories that they had been offered shelter by an exiled or runaway princess, but Tony wasn't ready to let them go. What he had no theory to account for was all the cuts on her hands and arms, or the white feathers all over her house – the former made him uneasy on her account; the latter, just baffled.

Barton cleared his throat, snapping Tony back to his senses. "How are the reindeer?" he asked to give his brain something else to do.

"Just fine," Hawkeye answered. "Everything's ready to go." He half-bowed towards the girl. "Thank you again, Miss Elisa." (Her name had been the only thing she condescended to write for them yesterday.) "I hope we'll be able to repay the favor one day."

"Is there any way we can help you?" Tony couldn't help asking. Elisa closed her eyes for a second and then looked at him as if contemplating something, but finally bit her lip and shook her head sadly. "Well, I'm sorry we can't stay longer, but we have work to do. Thank you so much for your hospitality, my lady." She started to smile at his address but quickly stopped herself and shook her head again. Tony wondered how cold they could be to leave a girl who was so kind and so obviously in pain, but she clearly didn't want help. All he could do was surreptitiously scoop up a few feathers from the table as they left the house.

His armor was on her porch next to her spinning wheel, and he wasted no time getting into it as soon as he stepped outside. He'd been shocked at how blasé Elisa had reacted when she first saw him in his flying armor – what could a girl have seen around here so that something like this didn't even faze her? She didn't bat an eye now as the metal shell covered him and the arc reactor glowed even more brightly in his chest.

Hawkeye was leading both reindeer by a halter held in each hand. Tony, his faceplate open so he could talk freely, took one of them from him. There was too much snow and the ground was too uneven for Barton to ride until they got through the forest, and Tony had decided that, at that pace, he'd rather walk than fly ahead. "Good-bye, Elisa," said Hawkeye.

"And thanks again," Tony said with a wave. "Good luck." With whatever you're up to, he silently added.

Elisa waved good-bye as they trudged away through the snow. After a while, they both turned around and waved again. Elisa, now a speck in the distance, waved back and then went back inside with her secrets and mysteries.

"She lied," Hawkeye said apropos of nothing as they walked along. "When you asked her, 'You can't speak?', did you see which way she glanced right before she shook her head? She can speak, I'm sure of it."

"If by can, you mean physically able to, you're probably right," Stark agreed. "But, for some reason, she obviously can't. Now why would that be?"

Barton shrugged. "How'd she get those injuries?"

"What'd they look like to you?"

"They didn't look self-inflicted, if that's what you mean."

"It was. Hold this for a minute, will ya'?" Tony handed him one of the halters and removed one of his metal gloves, revealing a palm full of feathers. Ignoring the stinging cold, he closed the visor and began scanning them. "JARVIS, what do these look like to you?"

After a moment, the friendly voice politely replied, "Analysis indicates they belong to the species Cygnus cygnus."

"Whooper swan?"

"Affirmative, sir, and fresh – they were shed recently."

"How recently?"

"Three days, at the most."

The feathers weren't going to tell them anymore. Tony let them drop, put his glove back on, and slid the visor back open. "You saw how many feathers were in that place. What would so many swans be doing in there? Does she raise them or something?"

"Maybe she turns into a swan sometimes," Hawkeye said sarcastically.

Tony countered sincerely, "No, the girl in that story was human by night and a swan by day... or was it human only during the night of a full moon? Either way, wouldn't have been human when we woke up this morning."

"Whatever it is, I'm sure we'll be doing her a big favor by fixing this weather."

Tony couldn't deny that. "True." Maybe that was all they could do – maybe this was something nobody could help her with (he knew magic sometimes worked like that). He turned around one last time even though they couldn't see her house anymore. "Bye, Elisa – hope your story has a happy ending."