Disclaimer: I do not own Frozen
A/n: I know this is technically Saturday (well, it is here, whatever time it is where you are) but this chapter required a lot of editing and I didn't get back to my flat till nearly 11pm. Given that most of you aren't on my timezone, I probably haven't missed your bedtimes anyway (hello, by the way, to the person from Anonymous Proxy. I did not realise this was a country nor that viewing stats recognised it as one). Anyway, this is chapter three. I hope you enjoy!
3) The Betrayal and What Came Together
Elsa isn't entirely sure how she has ended up outside wearing a man's shirt and a skirt, with her long hair bundled into a black wig. She isn't even sure where Anna got the wig from, and Anna refuses to say. Anna, for her part, is also in wig, skirt and-
"Anna," she says quietly as they walk down the street, "please tell me that these aren't Kristoff's shirts? Why are we in men's shirts?"
"Not Anna. Beate, remember, Noelle?"
"Does Kristoff get a fake name too, Beate?"
"Oh, good idea! He can be … Falkvord!" She smiles brightly. "I knew you'd get into this, Nolly."
"Please don't ever call me that."
"What? Why not?"
"It might give you ideas for when I'm not Noelle." She regrets this almost as soon as she says it because now Anna is bound to call her something stupid, like Elsie. "Anyway, please tell me that these aren't Kr … er, Falkvord's clothes?"
"Pfft, of course they aren't. Have you seen K- Falkvord? He's huge."
There are many ways that Elsa could take this sentence. She opts for, "Should I ask whose shirts they are then?"
Anna hums for a moment. "If you hear reports of clothes being stolen from the guards' laundry, don't spend too much time looking for the thief. Also, if you could stop people looking for the thief, that would be appreciated."
"Anna!"
"Who's Anna?"
"Oh for the love of … can I go home yet?"
Anna grabs her arm. "Admit it. You're enjoying yourself. Or you will be when we go in here. What is this … The Mediocre Duckling." She pauses and then shrugs. "Let's go in."
The taverns should be closing soon but Elsa knows that many stay open past regulated hours. So does Anna, apparently. Elsa tells herself this is because Anna has been reading reports, but she suspects that this might not be the case.
They go in. It's loud and hot, despite the winter outside, and she can already feel the ice building at her fingertips. One of many reasons she thought this would be a bad idea. Anna's unsympathetic response had been, Consider it a test in self-control. Then she'd grinned a wicked grin because Anna's aim for tonight is for Elsa to lose her self-control.
So Elsa follows her through the mill of people, apologising to every person she brushes past, hands fisted in her skirt. As she walks, she notices people eyeing her in a strange way. People stare at her when she's the Queen, of course, but never like this. It reminds her of the second prince she invited to court her – the one who Anna was so aggrieved by that she made Elsa promise not to marry him. The one whose visit made Anna ask Elsa just what type of person she gets feelings for.
When they reach the bar, Anna buys herself a mug of ale and Elsa some warm fruit juice. This time last year, Anna would have bought Elsa wine, not knowing that Elsa never drinks alcohol. Of course, this time last year, Anna wouldn't have asked Elsa to come into the city with her and Elsa would never have said yes.
She feels slightly silly as they stand at the bar and she sips the warm juice. She tells herself she's not nervous, but that never works. Anna notices: she pauses in her chattering to say, "Relax. It's me. I'm here. I've got you."
Anna talks so much, it's easy to forget that she often knows exactly what to say and when to say it.
The more Anna talks about anything and everything, the more Elsa relaxes. The heat begins to feel less stifling. Shouting to be heard stops hurting her throat and starts to feel natural. Even being jostled … well, she stops apologising to everyone.
She buys Anna another ale. On her way back to their spot, she sees Anna chatting to two young women. One of them – about her own height, with black hair and a confident smirk – eyes her as she walks.
"Oh, no, Els … Noelle's my friend. Sorry, I call her Elle for short. You know, from Noelle. Because she doesn't like being called Nolly, even though I think it's cute. Uh, anyway, I'm afraid we're just good friends. My, uh, boyfriend would be worried if it was more. But I can see how you got the idea, 'cause we're, uh, standing here and…"
The black-haired woman glances away from Elsa to ask Anna, "And does … Noelle also have a man?"
Anna, completely oblivious to Elsa standing behind her, says, "Not as far as I know. I think she's experimenting. You know, she'll-"
"Hi, Beate," Elsa says, sliding next to Anna and handing her a mug before she can make Elsa out to be some sort of sexual deviant. She's barely mastered holding hands without freezing someone – experimentation is a bit too big a step. "Um. So who are your, er, new friends?"
The other woman – a blonde-haired woman, about Anna's height, says, "I'm Kira. And this is-"
"Indira." The black-haired woman smiles. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Noelle."
She stops herself from curtseying. "Um, likewise."
"So," Indira says, and even that one word is clearly directed to Elsa, "what do you do? I haven't seen you in Arendelle before."
Which very nearly makes her laugh. It makes Anna laugh, but she manages to blame it on the drink.
"I'm…" She has no idea what women who aren't nobles do. Or rather, she knows what they do but what if she says she's a maid and then it turns out that Indira is as well and she has to answer questions on cleaning? "I work in ice."
Anna snorts. Kira asks whether she wants a drink that's less strong.
"Ice?" Indira raises an eyebrow. "As an ice cutter?"
"Oh, no. Um … accounts. Paperwork. Trade. My friends are the ice cutters. Falkvord and Sven." As Indira keeps her eyebrow raised, she adds, "That's how A- Beate and I know each other. Falkvord is her boyfriend."
"And Sven?"
"Falkvord's … brother. Nice enough but a r-… he's got too much attitude for me."
"So did you get the shirt off Falkvord? Or Beate? You're kind of matching."
Elsa tries to laugh. "Beate. I think she stole them off … friends of Falkvord's."
"Falkvord collects his friends' shirts? And you wear them?"
"He's a little odd. Anyway," she says, before Indira can ask her any more questions about her fake ice business and strange clothing choice, "what do you do?"
Indira, it turns out, runs a seamstress shop in southern Arendelle, mainly making clothes but also creating designs for others to work from. Kira owns the shop next door. Indira likes winter but is looking forward to summer. She often comes to the tavern with Kira for a late night drink; she likes good ale but hates being drunk. Whenever she takes a break, she watches the boats in the dock. She enjoyed Elsa's coronation for all of the beautiful costumes, and she would love to speak to one of the Burakoemin retinue, to find out more about their fashions. It's funny because when she was younger, she had no interest in tailoring or design. She has a younger brother, but she hasn't seen him or her parents since leaving home at sixteen.
"It doesn't matter why," she says in response to Elsa's expression. "I'm never going back. The past is in the past."
"So you've let it all go?" Elsa says with a smile. Indira smiles back.
"Something like that." She's much closer to Elsa than she was when they started this conversation but Elsa hasn't tried to move away. She's not convinced there would be room if she did try. "You sound like you know what I'm talking about."
"I tried to leave once. I know the feeling."
"But you came back?"
She remembers men attacking her; terror; defending herself in the only place where she ever felt free; ice going too close to necks; and darkness. "Kind of," she says, too loudly, but it almost drowns out the memory of ice and crossbows. "But it's different now. That … that was a bad time for me."
Indira places a comforting hand on her arm and Elsa flinches slightly because she isn't prepared for it. Indira notices but Elsa smiles to show her that it's OK, she doesn't mind. And she supposes she doesn't. It's nice to talk to someone who's felt the same as she has but who's so confident with it. Someone like Elsa was on the mountain. Different from David, but not badly so.
Indira glances over Elsa's shoulder so Elsa turns. Kira and Anna are in full conversation.
"Your friend's quite the charmer."
"Like you," Elsa says, before she can think about it. She puts her fingers to her lips. "I'm sorry, that-"
But Indira laughs a full-throated laugh and, again, she can't help thinking that it's different to David's quiet chuckle. "That was cute."
Elsa blushes, not sure what to say to that.
The barman rings a bell and shouts, "Last orders."
"Well," Indira says, "I should probably start to make my way back."
Elsa smiles. "It was nice to meet you. Best of luck with your shop."
Indira smiles that confident smile she had when she first eyed Elsa about two hours ago, and says, "You sound as though we'll never see each other again."
"Um…"
Indira places her hands gently on Elsa's shoulders. There's hesitation in her eyes. "I wonder if I can convince you to come back another night."
Suddenly, she knows what's about to happen. She doesn't know that she wants that but Anna said she should relax and, who knows, maybe…
She closes her eyes as Indira kisses her with lips as soft and tentative as David's had been the first time they kissed. That, more than the kiss itself, startles her because Indira is so confident. She thinks her startled state is noticeable because she feels Indira start to loosen her grip, so she kisses back.
They remain like that for several seconds. Indira pulls away and says, "So, what do you think, Elle?"
Elsa is suddenly very conscious that they are standing in the middle of a public tavern, that she has just kissed another woman in front of other people, and that she is still in a guard's shirt and this weird wig. "I … I'll try."
Indira smiles again but this time, there's a sad tinge to it. "Well, if you ever feel like running away, if only for a short while, you know where to find me." She nods at Kira as the other woman comes towards her. "I might not be good at facing up to things but I'm good at providing a distraction."
As Indira and Kira leave, Anna stands next to Elsa. "So," she says in as innocent a voice as she can. "Did you have fun?"
Elsa brushes the sad tinge out of her mind as she gently shoves her little sister and says, "Shut up, Beate."
When they reach the castle – somehow in one piece – and have snuck in through a window, Anna says, "But seriously. I saw you and Indira. Was it…"
"It was nice," Elsa says softly. "But…"
Anna only nods. "Let's try again tomorrow." She smiles. "Let's see if we can find a man this time."
As they near their rooms, Elsa says, "You know, I didn't expect Indira to be so … forward."
"Why wouldn't she be? That tavern's well known for setting up people of the same gender."
"And you know that how?" Anna simply smirks. "You didn't pick that tavern randomly, did you?"
"Nope. I thought some perspective would help you." Her smile, if anything, grows.
"You're far too arrogant for someone who is going to be in trouble if I have to investigate some missing laundry."
"Pssh. Says the lady who kissed another woman in public. Remember the law?"
"No one cares about that law. We care about theft."
Anna only laughs. "Whatever you say, your Majesty. Goodnight."
The next night, Anna sneaks Elsa out again, this time to a different tavern. Once again, they stand at the bar and talk. Once again, they attract attention, this time from a group of young men.
Elsa gets on particularly well with a carpenter called Torsten. She isn't sure that she's doing anything in particular but this time, she recognises his body language and she doesn't discourage him. At the end of the evening, Anna only has to grin at Elsa for a blush to cover Elsa's cheeks.
"Shut up," Elsa says.
"You've got to stop ending every tavern visit like that. We do have to walk home together."
But there isn't another tavern visit. The next day, Elsa and David announce their betrothal. The following evening, he enters the library and she knows she can't do this.
David would be the first to admit that he doesn't know Elsa well enough to be able to guess what she might have done when she says I have to tell you something, but he doesn't expect her to say that she's kissed a woman called Indira or a man called Torsten in a tavern, while dressed up in a disguise and a fake name. He's so surprised that he can only stare at her.
"David?"
"Where did you get the shirts? Why men's shirts?" he asks because what is he supposed to say to all of that?
Elsa seems equally surprised by the response. She tells him that Anna stole them from the guards' laundry and she still doesn't know why they had to wear men's shirts. Of course. Why didn't he guess that?
Elsa seems to realise that words will not help the situation because she sits back in her chair and says nothing, her body completely rigid. He wants to apologise because she looks so fragile and scared when she does that. But he won't. She did this to herself.
"You realise," he says in a low voice, "that I could tell my father about this? The betrothal would be cancelled, mind, and Burakoem would withdraw all support from Arendelle. And it could go further – other countries might hear of it."
Elsa nods. "I know. I … I wouldn't blame you."
He looks at his hands because he doesn't want to look at her. Her teeth don't even play with her lip, the way they do when she's nervous. That's how scared she is. Every other woman he knows would play with their hair, their fingers, their neck. Their eyes would dart. And she just sits there.
He should do exactly what he's just said. They're supposed to be betrothed. Maybe she doesn't love him but she should respect that. Maybe she doesn't want to marry him but she's the Queen. She knows what the difference is between being a ruler and being a person.
Maybe what hurts more isn't the fact that she did it but the fact that she did it when he knows full well that, no matter how tempted, he would never kiss someone else.
"Why?" he says. "Why did you go out to find people to kiss?"
"You know why."
He shakes his head. "Not good enough, Elsa. Why?"
She has the grace to look him in the eye. That's something he's always liked about her – she faces up to what she's done. "I … wanted to know. If." Now she bites her lip. "If I really am broken. Or if maybe…"
There's something about her tone that makes his heart break. He wants to put an arm around her but he still hurts. "Elsa … why didn't you ask me?" She's silent for a long time. Maybe she's too ashamed to answer. Or maybe she feels like he's pressuring her. It isn't easy for her. He knows that. Maybe he could…
"Elsa, maybe-"
"No. I'm sorry. It's just … I didn't ask because … because I know how you feel."
It's his turn to splutter – if they are taking turns, because Elsa isn't the spluttering type – and his voice is a bit too high-pitched as he says, "What do you mean?"
"I'm … not as stupid as I used to be. I've seen you look at me. And when we kissed, the day before … that was a lot different for you." He looks away. He can still feel her hair under his fingers, her hands on his back, her breath in his. OK, he thinks she's pretty. OK, he thinks she's smart, and funny, and kind, and kind of brilliant, and very socially awkward and a bit cold and ignorant of other people but somehow that just makes her all the more human. OK, he enjoyed that kiss and, OK, he felt something but that doesn't mean…
"I told you I was attracted to you before I left for Burakoem. That's not love or anything else. It's … you know, a kind of…"
"I know," Elsa says quietly. She looks away again. "You looked at me differently then."
He feels something inside him crumble as he says, "I'm sorry."
She faces him again. "Don't say that. Don't … don't you ever say you're sorry for feeling like that. About anyone."
He supposes that would be a sore point with her. He nods. "So you, ah, you didn't ask because I…"
"I don't know," she says. "I didn't want to hurt your feelings because I knew how you felt but this option wasn't exactly better. I think … I think maybe there was more to it. I think when Anna suggested it, I thought it was a way … a way to not be me for a couple of nights. To be someone who can have a drink in a tavern with a friend, meet someone beautiful or handsome and ... run away. If only for a short time." She looks at him. "But even if I'd fallen in love, that would have been it. I wouldn't have gone any further. Not that it matters." She sighs. "So, when do you leave?"
"Leave?"
"To tell your father that I broke our agreement."
He could. She knows he feels something greater than friendship – he doesn't think it's strong enough to be love but he's not sure it's a crush – and she's as good as told him that she doesn't feel the same way.
"Why did you tell me?"
"I'd have felt horrible if we carried on and I didn't say anything."
"I would never have known."
"That's not the point. Lies don't end well." She looks away. "I … when we were children – I mean small children – Anna and I were best friends. After … my parents thought I needed to learn control so they isolated me from her but said we weren't to tell her why. I spent thirteen years lying to Anna. She ended up miserable, thinking I hated her and willing to marry the first man she met. I nearly killed an entire kingdom."
Her eyes widen and he suspects she didn't mean to say as much as she did. For his part, he isn't all that surprised. Everyone knows that Arendelle had an isolationist policy for thirteen years. Everyone knows that Elsa and Anna argued at her coronation after a foreign prince seduced Anna. Elsa told him that she needed to reconcile with Anna over something. Plus if Elsa spent much of her life in isolation, it would certainly explain parts of her personality.
He rubs his eyes tiredly. "If I go, do I have to get back on a ship?"
"Um. Yes?" She frowns.
"Right. I'm not doing it then."
"David, what-"
He shakes his head. "This … this was cruel, what you did. This was … you know I know how you feel. If you'd asked me, do you think I'm the kind of man who'd have said you couldn't try? If you'd just explained? It would have hurt, mind, but I'm not cruel enough to bind you like that. But…" He sighs. "You told me. You risked Arendelle to tell me the truth. You're the person who agreed to marry me to save Arendelle so I know how big that is. And I hate ships."
The relief that floods her face is painful. Because she's relieved that he won't damn Arendelle because of her, not because he's chosen to stay. For a second, he's tempted to go back on his word, but he knows he won't. He just doesn't have it in him. Didn't he prove that when he nearly got up to let her have some time to gather her thoughts?
Of course, she didn't know that. What would she have done if she'd realised that's what he was doing?
"Thank you," she says. "David. I … I'm sorry. I know it doesn't change what I did but I am. If there's anything I can do…"
"Just…" He rubs his eyes again. "Just don't do that to me again. Just … just remember that you're not the only one being forced into something."
She nods. "I promise."
In the days afterwards, Anna sees David and Elsa, and they're awkward and stiff around each other except when they're in front of a crowd. When she speaks to Elsa, all Elsa says is, "I told him."
They're still getting married but now their relationship has been ruined. Although Elsa doesn't say anything, she knows, from that silence and David's glances, that it's all because of her. Again.
She starts to plan the wedding and feels like crying, which is only slightly better than not feeling at all.
On one occasion, she does cry. Olaf finds her and hugs her.
"Don't cry," he says. "It looks beautiful."
She tries and fails to explain why this only makes her cry more.
Father
We have announced the betrothal. Elsa is beginning to plan the wedding.
I am looking forw-
I'm sure Elsa and I will be hap-
I like Elsa very much and she's-
Llew and the others are very happy here but look forward to their return.
Your loyal son
David
Anna sits with Elsa one afternoon to discuss arrangements for the wedding. They haven't spoken much since their second trip to the city and Anna can feel the strain oozing from Elsa's every movement. At one point, Elsa turns away to grab something and Anna glances at her notes.
"Indira?" she says, reading the name of Elsa's proposed dress designer. "Isn't that-"
Elsa snatches the paper away. "Ignore it. I'm being stupid."
But she doesn't look angry. She looks as though she might cry.
"Elsa," she says. "Elsa, I'm sorry. This is all my fault. If I hadn't-"
Elsa shakes her head. "You gave me the idea but you didn't make me do it. You can't always take responsibility for my mistakes."
She glances at the desk. For the first time, Anna notices a small sculpture. It's a woman with extremely sharp teeth. Her dress is torn by her chest and one ankle is at an angle – in the process of breaking, or perhaps just being scuffed against the ground.
"I convinced you to do it," she says because this is the third time she's seen one of Elsa's sculptures and she thinks she might know what Elsa's trying to say. "Elsa, you can't blame yourself entirely. It's at least partly my fault."
"Anna…"
"It is. It always is. C'mon, none of this would have happened if I'd kept my mouth shut at your birthday. This wouldn't have happened if I didn't convince you to go out." She looks away. "I screwed up. You can say it."
"You didn't force me to do anything."
"Would you have done it if I hadn't encouraged you?"
"It doesn't matter."
"You can't blame yourself for everything," Anna says. "You know, you can let others take the blame too." She pauses. "You can't always act like I'm faultless."
Elsa is quiet as she looks at the vicious, twisted woman. "Anna," she says, "When did you … were you always…"
"What?"
"No."
Elsa doesn't ask questions because she knows Anna can't face up to them. But Anna owes Elsa, so she says, "C'mon, what did you want to ask?"
She shakes her head. "I have to go." She pauses. "It's not your fault, Anna. Don't ever let yourself think that it is."
They are seen together in public. They sit next to each other at dinners. He makes himself known among the Arendelle nobility. And with every conversation, every word, every movement, every week and hour and second, David feels as though this is the Elsa that Anna grew up with, not the Elsa he's gotten to know.
One evening, Llew sees him reading some reports, as he tries to get up to speed with Arendelle's politics. When David refuses to be distracted, Llew scowls.
"What's with you these days?"
"I'm busy is all, Llew. I'm supposed to be a king in a couple of months, see. Remember the part of my life where I got lessons in it? No? That's because it didn't happen."
"You're not going to be King, Dai. You're going to be the royal consort."
David smiles grimly. "If you think Elsa's not going to put me to work, Llew, you don't know her."
"Speaking of her Majesty, what's with you two? I used to think you got on."
He's about to utter some kind of protest but this is Llew. Llew knows him better than almost anyone.
"We had an argument," he says quietly. Llew moves closer. "I can't say what it was about, mind, but it was … I could have broken it off."
Llew raises an eyebrow. "You could have? So she did something? What did she do?"
"I can't say. I didn't call it off, did I? So I can't tell anyone."
"Why didn't you call it off?"
"What?"
"Dai, I'm not stupid. You don't want to marry each other."
"Because it was…"
"What? Bad for Arendelle? Maybe she should have thought about that then. If she's willing to risk Arendelle, they can't be in that much trouble."
Which he knows but he can't say that.
"Llew, it's more … she's…"
"If it's bad enough that you could have cancelled then why would you want to marry her? Dai, you had a chance."
He sighs. "I couldn't do it to her."
"Like always. Dai, you're allowed to be happy too, you know." He smirks. "Then again, seeing how you look at her, maybe-"
"That's not why!" As Llew laughs, David groans. "Am I that obvious?"
"Nah, course not, Dai. I mean, I noticed because I'm your best mate, see. But the others think you're miserable because neither of you likes each other. They don't believe that story you two are telling, see." He shrugs. "They don't know you well enough. Your brothers might notice. Actually, Aled wouldn't- begging your pardon."
"Don't bother. Aled wouldn't notice a flying sheep," David says and Llew chuckles.
"I guess that's true. Anyway, why didn't you-"
"Hang on," David says. "What did you say?"
"What did I say when?"
"About Tegwen and the others."
"OK, I was wrong. You've gone crazy."
"Llew."
Llew shrugs. "I said they don't know you well enough to notice the way you look at Elsa." David stands up. "Oh, so you are coming with … Dai, where you going? Dai? Dai?"
When she hears a knock on her door, she immediately jumps up from her seat to open it, expecting Anna.
"David?"
It's not that she's surprised to see him. It's more that no one ever knocks on her door. Anna's the only person who's been in her room for years. It's hers.
He's trying to smile. "Hi, Elsa. Um. Can I … can I come in?" Her expression must show something because he says, "Never mind. This was … I should go."
For a second, three impulses war within her. She wants to hide from him because every time she looks at him, she remembers the hurt in his expression. She wants to say they should go elsewhere. This is her room. This is the one place – the only place – in the whole of Arendelle where she isn't a queen or a guardian or … anything. The one place where she can be Elsa. She knows that Anna thinks the room is sad – much of the furniture is broken or rotting, with almost no decoration, and without the torches, it's incredibly dark. But there's something comforting about that.
But. This is David. This is the man who she has promised to promise the rest of her life to. This is the man who agreed not to damn Arendelle because of her.
"No, no," she says. "Come in."
She stands to one side, holding the door open, biting her lip. She lets the door swing shut behind him and folds her arms across herself as he looks around. Her papers are piled on her desk and there's a book near her bed. The painting on the wall has been the victim of further frost.
He doesn't say anything but makes his way to the broken armchair.
"No!" she says. "That's uh … try the other one."
He jumps, spins, and goes to the other armchair. She continues to stand there, feeling more and more self-conscious.
He sits down gingerly. "Aren't you going to sit down?"
She sits at her desk. "I'm sorry."
"What for? I'm the one who interrupted you." He tries to smile as he shuffles his feet. "I just thought … if we keep going like we are, we're both going to be as miserable as you predicted."
"I know," Elsa says softly. "But with everything between us..."
He shakes his head. "I just think … you hurt me. And I've made you feel like you owe me. You know I like you. I know you … don't." He smiles. "We're all clear, I think."
She shakes her head because he makes it sound so simple when they both know it isn't. "I'm sorry, David. It's … I do owe you. And I know it shouldn't feel like that but…"
"It does."
"It does."
He nods. "Fine. At least tell me it worked?"
She frowns. "What did?"
"Kissing those people." She stares at him and he laughs, although it sounds slightly forced. "You went to all that effort, see. At least tell me it worked."
For a moment, she isn't sure that he isn't trying to make some kind of point. But although his expression is slightly pained, she knows him. He genuinely wants to make things better. And the only way he knows how to do that is by making other people happy.
That's a strange idea. That feeling, that she knows why he's asking.
"It … I don't know. I preferred kissing Indira, if that counts for anything? But I felt closer to her than Torsten. And it didn't feel…"
"Still no feeling?"
She coughs. "I was going to say that it didn't feel as nice as kissing you did."
"Oh!" She sneaks a glance at him and notes that the tip of his ears have turned pink. "But I thought you said-"
"I like kissing you," she says softly. "But it's not … I don't think it's what I'm meant to feel. I think I like the kissing but … I don't know. It's hard to describe."
"Well, that's a good start," David says, nodding so enthusiastically that she can't help laughing at him. His expression turns slightly wicked as he smiles. "So, you liked kissing the woman more than the man? I could grow to like this- hey!" He picks up the pen she threw at him. "That's assault."
"It's not," Elsa says. "It's battery. Assault is putting someone in immediate fear of violence."
"I'm sorry, I forgot I had to learn everything in your law, see."
She laughs again. As he smiles, she starts to say, "David, look. About ev-"
But he shakes his head. "Let's not. Not now." He smiles. "I think you'll run out of pens soon, see."
Part of her wants to say that they should discuss it – should discuss whether he really is happy to carry on, should discuss her and him, should sit down and discuss their impending marriage – but it's so easy to be distracted that she lets herself laugh and soon they're joking as though nothing has happened.
On the anniversary of their parents' death, Anna and Elsa sit together.
"Do you think," Anna says, "that they're happy, wherever they are?"
"I think they're happier now. Now that we're … us. They wanted the best for us after all."
"You know something, Elsa?" Elsa shakes her head. "I … I wish they hadn't died." She looks down. "I still hate them. But…"
Elsa smiles. "I understand."
Although neither of them suggests it, they start to spend some time together every day. Their conversations range from the serious to the joking. He learns that her social justice policies are less liberal than his but she manages crime and order with more efficiency than his father. He learns that she is more at ease when doors are closed. He learns that she was closer to her father than her mother but that her mother was the one she could talk to about personal things.
Sometimes, they argue. Not big arguments – not like when she told him that she'd kissed a woman called Indira and a man called Torsten. Small disagreements, about certain opinions, about people in the court, about the best way to do certain things. He loves the way her expression becomes so focused when she argues with him and he's quite sure he's losing all of the arguments because of that.
Their appearances in public are nothing like their conversations in private but people believe the story they gave. In front of crowds David will gently hold her, or kiss her cheek, or lips or hands. Their fingers lace together when they walk. He never comments on the coldness of her skin or the tension in her muscles, even though he feels it hours later. It's fine, he tells himself. There's no point making her more anxious. It might just sort itself out.
He doesn't know which of them starts it but they begin to end their private talks with kisses.
He loves being that close to her. It's intoxicating and one of the best parts of his day.
She always breaks it off first.
She says she likes it. The kissing. She likes how it makes her feel, although their kisses never go far. Maybe she wasn't the one who started it but she lets it happen and, as time goes on, she's less hesitant, less shy. But behind it all there's…
One day, his hands move too far and she steps away.
"I'm sorry," he says immediately, ignoring the pent-up frustration in his body.
"No, I'm sorry," she says. "I shouldn't-"
"I think I should go," he says. "I'll see you tomorrow, Elsa."
He leaves before Elsa can call him back.
"David?"
He looks at her, jumps, and marches off. His face is bright red.
Anna watches him. She's torn between going after him and finding Elsa. But she hasn't exactly helped smooth anything in relation to their relationship before. If she goes to Elsa, she'll encourage her to do something to break off the wedding and maybe that isn't what they need. Maybe Elsa has angered David. Maybe David has hurt Elsa. Maybe she should chase David and find out what's wrong. Maybe David won't tell her. Maybe she'll snap at David.
Maybe this is something between David and Elsa.
Every time she's tried to interfere so far, it's gone wrong or hasn't worked.
Maybe that's a sign.
"I don't understand it. I … he just left."
Although she does understand it because he felt something and she … didn't feel enough. Isn't that always the problem these days?
"You could run after him."
She smiles at Olaf. She was mainly complaining to herself but somehow, Olaf knew she was upset and came in. Olaf always knows. "I don't think it's that simple."
"Why not? Just run after him and ask if he wants to talk."
"If he wanted to talk, he'd have stayed here." She traces patterns on the fabric of her dress. "It's me. I need to … work it out. I like kissing. Sometimes. This is the next step. This is logical. It's fine. Next time we kiss, I'll … let him carry on. Because if I like kissing that means... that's the answer."
Olaf ponders this. "Isn't kissing meant to be not so well thought out?"
It's come to something when even a snowman knows more about it than she does.
"And you're moping again, Dai." David shrugs. "What happened now?"
"Nothing. Just…" He sighs. "I think maybe I want more from this marriage than Elsa does."
"Such as super marriage? The step above marriage? Divorce?" He sees David's look. "It's the step after marriage, see."
"I mean … I don't know. We were kissing, see, and I think I went too far." He can feel himself burning red. "She flinched away. And I realised … I think maybe she's only letting me kiss her because I could have cancelled the wedding."
Llew frowns. "That's a tough one. Has she said that?"
"We haven't talked about it."
"Well … did you ever think maybe you should?"
"I don't want her to think I'm pressuring her."
"It's not really pressuring her if you sit her down and say, can we have a quick talk, now is it?"
"It is if it sounds like I want her to do things she doesn't want to do."
"Well, if you start with, I want to do naughty things to you and I'll cry if you don't say yes then yes. Was that how you were going to start then?"
"Of course not. But she might take it like that."
"She coul … oh, wait. Hold on now. Is Elsa the Queen of Arendelle? The infamous ice witch who iced a kingdom? Wait, she is? Oh, right, she can probably handle a conversation about her marriage then."
"But-"
"She might get offended, Dai. Or she might be happy to talk about it. Maybe she was startled but she really wants to kiss you but now that you won't touch her, she's upset. Ever think about that?"
"Llew-"
"Dai. I'm telling you this as your best mate. You're a nice bloke – a proper gentleman, even if you're nowhere near as handsome as me – but if you're going to live with her, you need to start talking to her about things that are worrying you. I'm not saying don't think about what she wants, mind, but you can't always make yourself miserable for her and you can't assume you know what she wants. There are two of you in this wedding, Dai. If you're not going to cancel it, then start acting like it."
