Lessons, part the first.

It was spring!

Fitz was beside herself with joy. She had thought the terrible cold Arendelle winter would never end. That she would never be warm again. She was tired of wearing so many layers of woolen clothing that she looked like some sort of stuffed doll rather than her usual sleek self. She was tired of slipping on ice, slipping on puddles that were coated with ice, and slipping on the snow that deceptively disguised the ice. She was full and well tired of winter.

But spring, spring was a time of renewal, of blossoming, of days that lasted more than two hours. Even this early, and by Fitz's estimation it was still damn cold, there was a least some respite from the dreary gray sky that seemed to characterize the winter here. She had been warned that it was still likely to snow or freeze over one or two more times before winter was gone for good, but she could withstand anything now that the bright light of warm hope was reflected in the rushing melt-water that covered the town's cobblestones. And she had so many plans for spring.

In spring she could go outdoors and do the things she loved. The winter had all been spent either freezing her posterior off sailing on the diabolically well named North Sea, which had a wind that cut through her voluminous layers of wool as if she were standing naked on deck, or huddled shivering by a fire, unwilling and sometimes unable to move, while Elsa tried not to giggle, or cooed and sympathized as much as someone could who wore an off-the-shoulder dress of ice during even the most frigid weather.

But now that the days were more often above freezing and the gales of hailstones had subsided, the possibilities for exploration, and frolic, and just plain fun were much more abundant. Not for nothing, Fitz thought in glee, was spring the time of romance and love. Romantic picnics in a meadow, romantic fishing, romantic hunting, and even the possibility of intimate activities al fresco were all within the realm of possibility. Certainly it would be a whole lot easier for Fitz to take her clothes off if she weren't shaking and shivering.

It was all of this that made her current conversation so very aggravating.

"Won't you at least try?"

"No," Elsa said firmly, "I have enough to do without learning to ride a horse. And I've told you it's quite impossible for me to ride anyway. Horses are afraid of me, and with good reason I might add. They might be stupid animals, but even they understand that being frozen isn't good for them."

"Horses," Fitz was skeptical. "All horses? How do you know this?"

She was standing, about to get on one knee and beg if it would help her cause, across the vile expanse of wood Elsa called a desk but Fitz knew was actually just a massive oaken barrier between her and her happiness. If she didn't think the queen would notice she would have reduced it to so much kindling earlier in their relationship. It looked old, it probably would make a very nice warm fire. And she always seemed to be on the wrong side of it when things weren't going her way.

Elsa didn't even lift her concentration from the report she was reading. "I know it because I've tried. I even had a horse – pony – briefly. I think Anna ended up with the poor thing. Anyway every time I went to get on its back it was a disaster. There would be a pony skittering away from me, and ice on the ground, me frightened out of my wits that I would hurt someone, and my father saying, "Perhaps we should try this another time when you're older, Elsa."

"And if I point out that you are both older, and you have better control over your magic?"

"I AM older, and therefore I understand that for anything I need to do outside of this castle I can use the royal carriage – or," Elsa threw up her hands in consternation, as her ability to explain her reluctance to ride began to take away from her ability to appreciate the intricacies of the foreign ice trade "- or take a boat."

To Fitz taking a carriage meant you were old and infirm, or hiding from prying eyes. Carriages weren't for outdoor recreation. Carriages, in general, were not fun. Well they could be fun, but not when you had a whole phalanx of royal guards and footmen along with you.

"But we can't enjoy the fresh air in a carriage. We can't explore in a carriage. We can't go off into the wild. You and me – alone – out in the countryside."

"Do I look like a woman who wants to be 'out in the countryside'?" Elsa's gesture included her attire. "I am an indoor person. Indoors there are books and good food and soft chairs and clean floors – and clean places to sit, all things I like. Outdoors there are bugs and heat and – and dirt, all things I hate."

Fitz gamely tried again to make her point. "The carriage kind of puts a damper on romantic picnics in the woods."

"Only if you have them out of doors." Elsa had no problem doing things that were traditionally thought of as outdoor activities, such as building snowmen, ice skating, and engaging in raucous snowball fights indoors; she didn't see that picnicking needed to be any different.

"You know, if you tried going outside with me, it would be different." Fitz wasn't sure if that was exactly true, but surely she could find some way to distract Elsa from bugs and dirt. And getting her on a horse was definitely the first step.

"I guess I'll just have to take that on faith," Elsa leaned forward over the desk she trusted to keep everyone away from her when she was busy, especially her beloved – and her sister – and enunciated every word, "because I - Don't - Ride."

"Just try it with me. Once. Please?"

"Begging doesn't become you." Elsa made a little shooing motion to encourage Carolina to the door. She had things to do, and being wheedled into riding wasn't one of them.

"It is you, madam, who have brought me so low. I can't stand to be so long without you, but I must get out of this castle." Fitz sighed plaintively. Then with an inspiration born of desperation she climbed up and rolled over on the desk, lying on paperwork, boots alarmingly near the ink pot, peering woefully from the tops of her eyes at Elsa. "I want to go riding, and I want you to be with me … it is the romantic desire of your lover – is that desire too much to ask of one so generous as yourself?" Then she sighed, a long wistful sigh that she imagined Byron might employ to convince a reluctant mistress to – well, perhaps to go riding.

Elsa could feel her resolve melting away. She was being played; she was quite sure of that, but it was playing very prettily done and, she supposed, in a good cause. And – well, she could at least get something in trade if she was going to subject herself to another embarrassing episode of watching a horse quiver in fear of her. "Very well, but there is one thing I need your help with."

"Name it and it is yours." Fitz pulled herself up with a snap and hopped off the desk, very nearly landing in Elsa's lap.

"Table manners."

Fitz blinked. "What?"

"Table manners." The queen folded her hands demurely on her lap and gave a grim smile. "The wedding is only months away and neither the bride nor the groom eat like a princess and prince consort, which is a little embarrassing considering one of them has spent her entire life in that role."

"You want me to help Anna and Kristoff with their table manners?"

"No." Elsa wagged her finger emphatically. "Yours are just as bad. No, it will be me doing the teaching. But I need to you be agreeable, to embrace the idea of eating properly – and taking the time to learn to do so. If you don't behave then it will be much harder with Anna. She looks up to you like some sort of older -" Elsa waved vaguely in the air - "bad influence person. So if you seem happy about learning how to eat at a formal banquet I think she won't make too much of a fuss."

"And Kristoff?"

Elsa made a dismissive motion and pushed back from her desk. "If I get Anna, I have Kristoff."

"Excuse me?"

"Right now Kristoff is in the 'shock and awe' period of joining the royal family. He isn't going to rock the boat unless Anna makes him. Frankly the last time I tried to talk wedding decorations with him in the room, I thought he was going to faint. No, Kristoff won't be any trouble. I have him right where I need him, between his troll family and a hard place. It's Anna that is the problem."

"I find it a little scary that you've spent that much time thinking about this."

"Carolina! It's important!" Elsa said emphatically. "I can't have my sister and her husband eating in front of the world like they grew up in a barn – and yes, I know one of them did."

Fitz pondered the offer. It seemed acceptable. She'd never really had formal dining lessons, although one did learn through trial and error and thwacks on the hand how to eat in the officer's mess aboard a ship. And really, how hard could sitting next to Elsa eating food, no matter how many utensils were involved, really be?

"Very well, that sounds fair. We have a deal. You come for a riding lesson with me tomorrow, so that we might open up the exciting world that can be seen from horseback, and I will embrace your formal dining lessons."

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

"And I look ridiculous!"

Fitz wisely ignored that observation and continued leading Elsa by the hand out to the stables. She did look a little mismatched. The queen had nothing in her closet appropriate for riding, and even Fitz thought that it would be a bit much to ask a horse to welcome a rider clothed in ice. So they had pieced together an outfit combining a split skirt that Anna wore when she was on a horse with a pair of Fitz's breeches and Anna's boots with one of Elsa's own jacketed tops. The breeches were a bit large but well belted on. The skirt was a little short, although only if you knew the intended length, and the boots were fine except that Elsa didn't wear boots, so she walked as if she was going to tumble headlong at any moment. How boots, even the high heeled variety Anna favored, could be harder to wear than the not inconsequential heels Elsa usually had on was beyond Fitz.

There had been other difficulties. Kai and Gerda were scandalized that Fitz intended for Her Majesty, and Fitz always knew she had violated some protocol when they called Elsa 'Her Majesty,' to ride astride rather than sidesaddle. Fitz had claimed safety reasons, and that as a new rider Elsa should have as much control and stability as possible, but the truth was she didn't consider sidesaddle actual riding and avoided it as if it were a communicable disease, which as far as she was concerned it was.

But as the morning had worn on Fitz became convinced that the stubborn one in this queen plus horse equation was not going to be the horse. And she had made the mistake of mentioning how often Anna rode.

"Of course my sister rides," Elsa grumbled as she minced carefully across the well-raked-ring to where the under-groom had saddled the castle's most placid mount, an older gray fjord horse that was mother to Anna's Blackie, and a good deal less fond of throwing riders. "She also rode a bicycle down the main staircase, climbed our steeply sloped roof, and thought it was a good idea to marry a despicable prince after one evening of dancing. I might add that when she really needed a horse – to ride after me – it threw her as soon as it found itself dealing with snow. Snow I made – my snow! Not a fact that bodes well for relations between me and the equine species."

Ignoring the tirade, Fitz took the reins from the groom and guided the horse to where Elsa was still stewing over the comparison to her sister. Horse and queen considered each other dubiously, cocking their heads at almost the same angle.

"Here, give her this," Fitz rummaged in her coat and pulled out a small wrinkled apple she had found in the cellar.

Elsa took the apple and gingerly extended it as a peace offering toward the horse.

"Mind your fingers," Fitz added as the horse lunged forward and Elsa squeaked and skittered backwards.

The second time went marginally better after Fitz demonstrated the proper palm up method of offering treats. The horse got the apple and munched happily, and eventually Elsa opened her eyes and determined that she still had all ten fingers even if they were rather disgustingly wet.

"I'm going to smell like horse, aren't I?" Elsa grumbled.

"Oh, not at all," Fitz answered, guiding both horse and rider-to-be to the mounting block.

"You know, I believe it's a crime to lie to the queen."

"Come on, darling – up. Leg over."

Fitz managed to both soothingly stroke the horse's nose and guide Elsa up successfully into the saddle.

Elsa for her part kept rattling off a litany of complaints, mostly involving how much she disliked the smell of horse, and how she had never understood why girls were supposed to be "horse-crazy," but surely that emphasis was on crazy, and how riding really was superfluous for someone who could both skate in heels and lived in a country with natural ice for five out of twelve months and really … ice anytime she wanted it, and didn't quite a lot of people end up dead after horse riding accidents, and had Fitz bothered to mention that fact to Anna before she borrowed the skirt and boots.

And then she was up. The horse was still licking the last of the apple from it's teeth and seemed quite unimpressed that it had the formerly non-riding Queen of Arendelle on it's back. But Fitz beamed proudly and started leading the horse around the ring at a steady walk.

"That's it you've got it. Reins properly in hand - not too loose, not too firm - nice grip - elbow, wrists and hands in a line to the horse's mouth. Excellent carriage!" Which Elsa had, no slumping or lazy arms to be seen, and she seemed to be relaxing – at least a tiny bit – even when Fitz let go and let her take the horse around at a walk herself. "Well done! Very well done!"

As Elsa guided the horse around the ring at a walk, Fitz was mentally packing their first picnic basket. Wine, white most likely, there was never a problem keeping it chilled, flowers, sandwiches and of course some blankets, nice thick warm wool ones for underneath, and then something rather less itchy to be spread on top. She took a moment from her reverie to watch Elsa round the circle again. Things were going well. Splendidly well. In fact, Fitz was trying to decide between the smoked ham and that lovely soft white cheese they imported from somewhere, and roast chicken for the main picnic course – Elsa would insist on some fish of some sort – when she heard a terrifyingly familiar voice.

"Hey Fitz, hey Elsa, whatcha doing?" Olaf trundled around the corner. "Ooooh! Horsie! I know, I should go get Sven and we can ride together! Kristoff taught me how to ride Sven!"

Elsa kept her concentration steadfastly on moving with the horse, sitting properly, and keeping the appropriate grip on the reigns, until she heard the next sentence. "And Anna! Anna will LOVE to go riding with us! I'll go get Anna!"

"You will do no such thing," the queen hissed trying not to do anything to upset the horse, such as make a loud noise or hurling a cautionary snowball at a mischievous snowman. "Carolina, I am not staying here to be the morning's entertainment for my sister. I think I need to get …. Oooooooh!"

Whatever it was that Elsa needed to get – it didn't happen because as she became more agitated her grip on the reins tightened and so did her grip with her legs. As a result, she dug her boots right into the spot all horses recognized as "go faster." The horse broke into a rather bone rattling trot, which sent Elsa bouncing on the saddle, which meant she hung on more tightly, which meant more squeezing, and so after one round at the trot the horse accelerated into a smooth canter, and in a sudden burst of energy that the groom swore he had never seen in a horse that age, easily leapt the fence and took off down the path into the castle grounds, Elsa clinging on his back and swearing like the proverbial sailor … in fact she was saying a few things even Fitz avoided in mixed company and at least one phrase Fitz had never heard before but tucked away into memory for later use.

Fitz ran like a madwoman and jumped on the horse she had taken to riding, spurring it on in hot pursuit. It wasn't hard to follow the trail, there were broken branches and the damp soft earth was torn and trampled, and after a bit there was a trail of ice, a frozen river that followed the same path that Elsa's runaway horse had taken.

As she galloped after Elsa, Fitz berated herself. This had been a stupid idea, a stupid idea to end all stupid ideas. Elsa hadn't wanted to ride in the first place. What thoughtless idiot forces someone on a horse? And the queen? But her worst imagining was Elsa lying somewhere hurt or worse. She felt a chill run up her spine as she imagined what could happen if Elsa was thrown, or trampled. It would be all her fault. She was the worst kind of ….

Fitz stopped her internal tirade and slowed her horse. The temperature had plunged, and she saw snow on the ground and swirling in the air. Icicles hung in the trees covering the new spring buds.

"Elsa!" she called out, and then listened carefully. She heard a crashing and the whinny of the other horse as it came trotting back down the path, not lathered, not breathing hard at all. Elsa couldn't be far.

Dismounting, she looped both the reins on a tree and started off at a trot down the path. She was still following hoof-prints, although these were covered in ice and snow, but the icy path now stretched out well into the woods on both sides.

"Elsa!" Fitz called again, stopping. In the silence that followed, when she even held her breath, she heard a faint reply.

"Don't – don't come near me – please, stay away."

Fitz charged in the direction from which Elsa's voice had come, slipping and then sprawling headlong on a sheet of ice as she finally spotted a lump of clothing on the ground.

"Elsa, are you alright!" she called out as she scrambled frantically, trying to pull herself closer.

"Gloves," Elsa answered in a shaky monotone. She was curled in on herself, her head buried in her arms, her entire body shaking.

"Are you -"

"Gloves!" Elsa repeated. "Give me your gloves."

There was something in her tone that startled Fitz. She had heard Elsa be stern, be frustrated, be a consummate queen who was accustomed to her word being obeyed, but she had never heard her sound like this. This was a command, but it was desperate and terrified. Fitz looked down at her hands and then quickly pulled off her riding gloves. She started to crawl to where Elsa was lying.

"Stay away! Don't come any closer."

In punctuation to her demand, a splash of ice flew from Elsa's outstretched hand and covered a nearby tree. Then spikes grew up all around her, a sharp dangerous barrier pointed outward. Fitz stopped where she was, and after a moment's hesitation tossed her gloves over the ice spikes.

Elsa grabbed up the gloves and put them on as soon as they landed, but she stayed still curled up in a tight ball. Fitz couldn't see her face, couldn't see much but her back, but she was still shaking, shivering. And she was muttering something Fitz couldn't make out, the sound low and fevered but not as if she was in pain.

Fitz felt entirely out of her element. Whatever was going on with Elsa was more than a fright from a horse. And there was still the possibility Elsa was really hurt. "Can I help? Do you want me to go get Anna?" Fitz asked.

"No," came the choked response. "No. Don't get Anna! Just stay away. Go away and stay away."

Fitz would have done almost anything for Elsa right then, any feat at any personal cost – but leaving, that was something she could not do. So she sat. She pulled herself to a nearby boulder and leaned up against it. And she watched, as Elsa stayed unmoving, curled up, trembling, with unintelligible whispers escaping her lips on shaky breath, for a very long time.

The next sound that broke through the silence was the pounding of horses hooves. Clearly someone had coming looking for them. Fitz pushed herself upright on the rock, and then carefully skated her way back to where she heard crashing in the brush. It was Anna. Despite Elsa's wishes, Fitz was thankful to see her. Whatever the problem was, Anna was likely to know what had happened to Elsa, to have a solution.

"What's wrong?" Anna demanded as she pulled the horse up short. "Is she hurt? Olaf came and told me the horse ran away with Elsa on it. I came as quickly as I could. I think I convinced the guards to wait a minute before charging in here, though. Does she need them? Should I get a doctor? Or Gerda? Or the carriage? Is she hurt?"

Fitz considered the questions. "No," seemed the best answer. "I don't think Elsa is hurt, but – but – but something is wrong. Very wrong."

"No kidding," Anna answered gesturing at the winter landscape all around them as she dismounted. "I followed the ice out here, and I knew there had to be a problem. Did she say anything?"

"No," Fitz answered again nervously. "She just told me to stay away."

Anna tilted her head in thought. "Ummm."

"She's like a ball – like a hedgehog, all curled up – spikes out. Ice spikes. I can't even get near her. Anna? What do I do?"

Anna frowned. "I'm not sure. I mean usually when this happens she's afraid of hurting someone, usually me. But – I wasn't there – I mean no one was really – so I, so I don't know."

Fitz felt a wave of panic threaten to overwhelm her. If Anna didn't know what to do, however was she herself going to help? She was both mortified and horrified.

"Anna, you have to help me. You have to tell me what's going on. You said, 'Usually when this happens', which means this has happened before. What is 'this'?" Fitz's whisper was demanding an answer, any answer, to this situation.

Anna tied up her horse and then slowly, carefully made her way to where she could see Elsa clearly. She looked at her for a while, and when she turned back around her expression was odd but thoughtful. She split her glances between Fitz and Elsa, the Queen still wrapped around herself, oblivious to her surroundings. The snow and ice weren't growing any more, but they weren't retreating either. Anna gestured to Fitz to follow her, and they gingerly backed further away, behind a large tree.

"We don't know what to call them, but she's had them occasionally. Not for a while though. Fear, some sort of frightening happening seems to trigger them, seems to call up something from her past. It is like she's not here with us but back then – when it happened."

"How do you fix her?" Fitz asked.

"You don't. You can't. She needs to come out of it on her own, because her magic can happen – instinctively, without her control, and that can be dangerous. But it helps if she feels safe, not alone, it seems to help her find herself."

Anna then looked at Fitz with a pensive gaze. "You're not going to leave her, right?"

"Of course not!" Fitz shot back, her fear pushing her to anger."What do you think I am?"

Anna reached out and put her hand on Fitz's shoulder. "It's OK. It's gonna be OK. I don't think she's really injured, or this is in danger of spiraling completely out of control." Anna gestured again at the snow-scape. "I mean we have had winter in July, and this isn't that." The princess glanced at Elsa again and came to a decision. "OK, well I'm gonna go back and tell the guards you have it under control. That there is nothing to worry about. I don't think a bunch of people tromping through here is going to be any help, in fact it will probably make things worse."

Fitz thought for a moment she must have misheard, but there Anna was, climbing back on her horse. "But what do I do?"

Anna arranged the reins and leaned over to give Blackie a reassuring pat. "What you've been doing, Fitz. I have faith in you. Just keep an eye on her … and you know … be there for her. This isn't going to be the last time this happens."

Fitz could hear the portent in her words. "And?"

"And it is very likely to be you that she needs."

"But I've never -"

"None of us knew what to do, not in the beginning. Not even Elsa. To be honest every time is different. You'll be fine."

"I don't know how -"

"I have faith in you Fitz."

Fitz took Anna's words to heart. This was something she was going to have to learn to do. It was her duty now to help Elsa, no matter in what way she needed it, no matter how inadequate to the task she feared she was.

"Very well," Fitz said with a nod and went to return to her lookout when she heard Anna call out from behind her.

"But remember, this is the most delicate part of her, the part that is still healing. This is her heart. You've got her heart in your hands. Break it, and I will kill you." Anna's glare underscored the threat. This was no joke, and she wasn't speaking figuratively.

Fitz just nodded in complete agreement.

Anna rode back to the castle to forestall any additional rescue. Fitz returned to her watch, crouched in the snow, eyes on Elsa. Slowly, very slowly, the ice around her retreated and the air warmed. Finally, Elsa sat up and her eyes focused on Fitz.

"Are you, alright?" Elsa asked in a whisper, as if the sound of her own voice might cause a relapse. "I didn't hurt you, did I?"

"I'm fine. Are you alright?"

"I'm ..." Elsa started to shiver and clutched her arms across her chest.

Fitz moved forward and held out her hand. When Elsa took it she pulled both of them back, so she was sitting against a rock, holding Elsa in her arms, and then Fitz wrapped her jacket around her. The gesture was a reflex, but still Elsa pulled the coat closer around her and tucked her head onto Fitz's shoulder. Fitz pulled the queen to her, enveloping her in her arms. Only when she had Elsa tight against her was she able to relax, her own hands finally reassuring her that Elsa wasn't injured.

Elsa spoke first. "You're here. You stayed."

"Of course, I stayed, love. I wouldn't leave you like this."

"How bad is it?"

Fitz had a good idea what Elsa was asking. "Not bad. I haven't gone to look, but I could see where the cold stops. And Anna said it was an improvement over the last unseasonable winter."

"Anna … Anna was here? Was she safe. Did I? Is she?"

"She's fine, too." Fitz answered with a reassuring hug. "She went back to stop your guard from mounting a full on search party."

"Oh … that's good." It was a mumbled whisper.

There was another long silence. Fitz finally broke it.

"Elsa, I am so sorry. I put you up to this, and I shouldn't have. You could have been seriously hurt. As it is – well, clearly riding was a bad idea. You were right, and I didn't listen. And I never want to make you feel like this. Never."

"This wasn't your fault."

"You didn't want to ride, and you told me so. I was the one who pushed. I was terrified when the horse jumped the fence. I … I don't know what I would have done if you had been hurt."

"But I wasn't hurt. This isn't your fault."

Fitz looked around at the melting ice. "I put you into this position … into a position that resulted in your losing control. I can't apologize enough. It was unforgivable."

"Carolina, please. Listen to me. This – wasn't – your – fault." Elsa's voice was firm, insistent.

"Love?"

"When the horse ran, I was startled – frightened, a little. But then as we were plunging down the path I remembered something – and that's what started it."

"Remembered?"

Elsa took a deep shuddering breath. "I remembered the last time I was on a horse running like that. It was – fourteen years ago." Fitz felt her stiffen and then the words came like a torrent. "I hit Anna in the head with my magic, and she wasn't moving, and I thought I killed her. I thought I killed her and we, Mama, Papa and I, took her to the trolls. Everyone was so scared. We were riding fast, so fast, and Anna was just lying there, in Mama's arms." Elsa choked on a sob. "Like she was dead. I thought she was dead. I thought I killed her."

Fitz held her close as Elsa spoke through her tears.

"And you would think – I should have known. You would think after all the time I've been – that I wouldn't be surprised – but it just came up like that, and all of a sudden I felt it again – and I – I panicked. I didn't want – I just couldn't feel like that again. I couldn't stand it. But I couldn't stop it. And I remembered everything. I couldn't stop it. I couldn't stop remembering."

"Oh, love." Every time Fitz heard a story about Elsa's terrible lonely childhood, she wished she could do something, she wished she could go find that little girl and hold her – make her feel better – to fix everything. As she held the sobbing woman in her arms she realized that while she couldn't repair what had happened, she could help with what was happening now. The despondent, oh so young looking woman in her arms was that little girl, and this was her chance to comfort her.

"I remembered, and I – I just fell apart." Elsa looked up at Fitz. "So I'm sorry – I'm sorry that I'm not stronger, and that I can't even do something as simple as ride a horse without – freezing everything."

Fitz leaned over and pushed a lock of hair from Elsa face. "You didn't freeze everything. This is not your fault. You have nothing to apologize for."

"I – I could have frozen you!"

"I wasn't worried."

"I was. It was dangerous."

"Not nearly as dangerous being shot at with a cannon."

"You could have died."

"I – I don't know about that, but if it had happened, I would have died happily with you."

"This isn't funny."

"And I'm not being funny," Fitz said evenly. "There are many ways one can die, and I've seen quite a few of them. Many are truly horrible. Most are lonely. Freezing isn't that bad – freezing near you would be among the best I could hope for." Then she smiled, "Besides you would rescue me."

"Rescue?"

Fitz leaned forward and then gently guided Elsa to the side so they were facing. She tenderly kissed her. "True love. True love's kiss. In fact, if you're still worried – we should practice – more." She looked at Elsa, expectantly, hoping her attempt at humor wasn't ill-timed.

Elsa snorted, but relaxed her head against Fitz's chest. "We are a pair."

"Indeed, that we are. In fact, I think it's lucky we found each other. No one else would have us."

"You're really not afraid of me, even when I'm like this," Elsa said. She had asked this before and Fitz had always said no, but it was still amazing and wonderful to her that someone other than her sister wasn't afraid.

"How can I be afraid of you? I love you. I love this part of you as much as any of the others. You're beautiful and kind, but you're also strong and far from helpless. A combination I find very," Fitz nuzzled into her hair and grinned, "very attractive."

"I'm still afraid that I will never be right about my powers – right about all of this. That I will never be normal."

This time Fitz choked out a snort. "God, I hope not. I understand that normal queens marry kings, or princes – and they live happily ever after with several children and lots of dogs."

"Mmmmm." Elsa nodded in agreement. "And all I can offer is two snowmen and a sister. And very soon a reindeer and his master. I mean we could get a dog, if you really wanted one. But it would have to stay outside in the barn. Dogs bring in dirt, and they … they smell like dogs."

Fitz ran her fingers through Elsa's soft hair and kissed her neck, whispering,"I'll settle for you and the snowmen … and the sister, even if she is a bit exuberant at times."

"Anna means well," then Elsa started as she remembered, "Oh, Anna! She'll be worried. We need to get back."

Fitz sighed, she wanted to stay like this, holding Elsa, forever. "We probably should, and not just for Anna. I suspect by now the entire castle has heard that I tried regicide by horse." Fitz then helped Elsa off her lap and then stood to pull her up entirely. "Do you think you could … ride with me? We can walk if we have to, but it's a long walk."

"I will try. But I can't guarantee the horse will behave or appreciate my efforts."

"I'll take care of that," Fitz answered confidently taking the reins and leading the horse closer.

Then Fitz picked Elsa up and hoisted her onto her horse. She dexterously levered herself up behind, eventually settling Elsa back between her legs. It was tight in the saddle, and the horse couldn't do anything too athletic with both of them on, but then that was probably for the best. Fitz wrapped her arms around Elsa's waist and gathered up the reins. The horse remained still the entire time, not even disturbed by the extra weight.

"See," she whispered in the queen's ear as they started to move. "No hysterical horses … no random running away from certain freezing doom. Now, hold on to me and we'll get back home."

The horse walked at a slow plod, the easy swaying rhythm rumbling through both of them. After some dozens of yards, Elsa felt her body relax. She did feel surprisingly safe and calm, wedged between Fitz's arms. The sunset was reddening the low clouds, and now that she wasn't panicking she could hear birds flitting in the trees all around them. New greenery lined the path, trees with new leaves budding, flowers and grass pushing their way up from the dirt. It was then that she noticed that the horse had indeed followed the path even as it was running away with her. Apparently the horse had known what it was doing even if she hadn't. Elsa felt another moment of guilt rise up.

"I am sorry that I am such a poor rider. That I scared the horse like that. I'm sorry that I'm not a normal – well, I've ruined your plans haven't I?"

Fitz grumbled, "I thought we agreed that you have nothing to apologize for."

"But –"

"But you're right that you are a poor rider. You ride about as well as any child on their first pony, perhaps somewhat less well than the average child – let's say a particularly inept child on their first pony."

"Excuse me?" Elsa had recovered enough to be indignant.

Fitz continued with her argument. "However, that has nothing to do with your magic. Perhaps the length of time it's been since you've been on a horse, which is somewhat because of your magic – but not the actual magic itself. Today you made a mistake any beginning rider could make. You dug in with your heels when the horse started to trot, which to the horse means "go faster" not "oh my god, I'm frightened please slow down." That's why she ran, and the harder you dug in, the faster she thought she was supposed to be going – that and maybe the screaming frightened her a little."

"I was not – it was subdued screaming." Elsa blushed and giggled, a sound that made Fitz's heart soar.

"The point is, Elsa, that you can ride if you want to. If you take the time to learn you'll eventually be riding like – well, at least like a fairly adept child with a good seat and excellent carriage. And if you don't want to, you don't have to – I will understand. I really do not want you to do anything you're not comfortable with. "

"I just don't think Anna will appreciate me risking her becoming queen with these riding lessons."

"But you cannot push it off on Anna. This is your decision."

"And what if I never get any better on a horse?" The queen asked with a sigh.

"Then I will learn to drive a carriage – Prince-to-be-Kristoff can teach me to drive the wagon – that or we find a deaf carriage driver." Fitz smirked as Elsa smacked her on the arm.

Hi. I've been lazy at writing, but I have been busy reading some wonderful writing, some of it by some of you all. (Waves at grrgeek, Concolor and Morgaine). As should be obvious I skipped a bit ahead in time, not too much. I do reserve the right to go backward in time. In fact I guarantee I will. But this is the story that came to me. As should also be obvious this is a multipart ficlet, so there will be more lessons to be learned. For the Summer Extravaganza readers, and anyone else who is inclined, the rest of this story is in the next chapter.

Thanks for reading,

SSN