Elsa resigned herself to calling him Tooth. He was certainly fond of chewing on everything (her bedposts, the icicles that dripped off of the windowsill, the baseboard) and then retracting his teeth when she caught him at it. He'd blink at her, his eyes wide and innocent looking, with a gummy mouth as if asking Who, me?

So yeah. His name was Tooth.

As far as dragon's went, Elsa's expertise barely covered naming them. And she didn't know how she could go up to the palace librarian and ask for a pamphlet on how to potty-train a dragon, now could she? From what she'd been able to get with poorly concocted tales about reading assignments, all she could glean was that dragons could breath fire, they were evil, and that they often hoarded gold. Oh, and they had a tendency to steal princesses and get killed by knights.

Elsa grimaced at a particularly colorful illustration of a dragon burning a few peasants to a crisp. The book went on in excruciating detail about the devouring of maidens, the burning of St George, and the inevitable, bloody death for all involved. She looked up from the book and glanced over at Tooth, who was looking particularly unthreatening today.

In the week that he'd stayed in her room, she'd learned a lot about her new companion and his more annoying habits. He liked to laze in the sun, sprawling as wide as he could with his wings outstretched. It was… inconvenient at the best of times, because Tooth's wingspan usually managed to place his wings in the mostly likely place for Elsa to trip on it.

"I don't even know why you sleep like that." Elsa said to her new friend. "You always end up curled into a little ball." She looked at him with narrow eyes. "You're not doing it just to be annoying, are you?"

Tooth huffed, rolling green eyes in a playful manner. His tongue did that adorable thing where it lolled out of his mouth—"Fine, fine" Elsa waved her hand dismissively. "Lay how you want you lazy lizard."

She turned back to her book only to wrinkled her nose at the graphic depiction of a king getting buried alive in molten dragon gold.

"Ugh." Elsa quickly closed the book, shoving it away from her with a queasy stomach. "Disgusting."

A knock at the door. Elsa froze, her hand hovering over her mouth as she whipped her head around to stare at her bedroom door.

"Elsa?"

Oh god. Anna.

"Elsa, are you in there?" Anna's voice sounded a little deeper, and rough, as if she was just getting over a cold. "I was just wondering, um—do you wanna go build a snowman? It snowed today, which, um you can see from your window obviously so—but I just though I should ask you if you wanted to. Build a snowman with me, that is." Anna's voice trailed off hopefully.

Elsa's heart was lodged so hard in her throat that she was having difficulty breathing. Because she wanted to. She wanted to go run around the castle grounds in broad daylight without having to put on a cloak for appearances sake, or stay away from her sister for her own good—

But she had to. It was the way it had to be.

Long minutes trailed away, and Elsa almost held her breath, as if to keep Anna from sensing the longing that curled in her belly and was almost tangible in her exhale. The silence was excruciating; Elsa could hear the creak in the boards outside as Anna shifted from foot to foot.

"Um, okay. I guess some other time then." Anna's voice sounded absolutely broken. As if something was damaged irreparably. Her footsteps were halting, as if she was looking back every other step.

Eventually there was silence.

Elsa managed not to cry this time, but it was a near thing. She turned to look at Tooth, and gave him a watery smile. "Sisters, right?"

Tooth cocked her head at her, his eyes slightly narrowed.

"It's for her own good." She said shakily.

Tooth's expression could only be described as unimpressed. He gave her a little bit of a cold shoulder for the rest of the day, but at the end of the day he gave her a little lick on the cheek that she took as a sign of his forgiveness.

He hopped up on her bed, nosing deep into her comforter. He assumed the position he usually did on her floor—spread eagled, with wings stretched out so far as to fall off the edges of the bed.

"Are you going to leave any room for me?" Elsa giggled.

Tooth grunted, and lazily lifted one wing and grunted; though his eyes were still closed, Elsa imagined his eyes would be shining with something like mischief.

"Fine." Elsa huffed. She crawled under his wing, glancing upward at the supple skin and miniscule scales that covered his wings from body to tip. Like a warm tent that pulsed around her.

Tooth's snout nuzzled the nape of her neck, warm breath blowing at the baby hairs that grew at her hairline.

Elsa fell asleep with the world breathing around her.