Author's Note: And there's the second part of my double-update. Thank you for your continued readership and support.
WARNING: This update contains a scene of the student-teacher relationship. It's the second part, in Merida's perspective.
That Sunday afternoon, the gymnasium floor was cleared of all dirt and stains and mopped afterward for good measure. The twin sets of bleachers along the walls were folded into straight rows and pushed back to make more room. Students and staff spent a few hours setting up the various tables and subwoofers that would accompany the dance. Fruit punch and extra snacks were locked in the teacher's lounge down the hall. Theatre technicians triple-checked the lights to make sure their inserted plastic filters would project an array of colors when later turned on. Somebody put out a box with ballots to vote for who had the best costume. Snaking from beneath the table and cording toward an electrical outlet were several wires, which Anna tripped over when she arrived later that evening.
"Whoa!" She stumbled upright, nudging the wires back into place with her foot. The bus had dropped her off early, and she'd gotten restless pacing around the courtyard. She'd slipped into the bathroom to make sure her outfit was clean—she figured Elsa would be in a dress and flapper hat, so she picked up a brown tweed jacket and some slacks from a thrift store. She thought about a hat too, but that was probably pushing it.
After straightening her suit in front of the mirror she turned to leave the bathroom. Her black dress shoes clacked on the tile. She passed by the teacher's lounge toward the gym, to see what the dance would look like. "Okay, I can handle this," she said to herself, looking at the setup.
A rumble outside let her know the event was starting. She shoved the doors open, darting through the crowd of loud costumed students. It was a little darker outside than before. Anna sat on one of the brick ledges at the end of the courtyard, jiggling her feet.
She saw Elsa in the distance. Her heart accelerated to a million miles per hour. She jumped off the ledge, letting her legs propel her toward her date. They met under a green streetlamp at the edge of the yard.
"You made it," said Elsa.
Anna didn't trust herself not to babble. She nodded, scanning Elsa's outfit under the light. She was in a red chemise dress with a flapper to match, a dark pink ribbon tied above the brim. A white feather boa wound around her neck, the same color as the thin pair of socks rising above her brown heels. Anna developed an itch somewhere under the collar of her suit. But she smiled, made a waving motion beside her, and walked with Elsa to the dance.
The muffled sound of a saxophone echoed through the halls as they neared the gym. Anna pushed open the door, shifting them a dark room spinning with multicolored lights that flashed across the floor. The gymnasium was packed with students dressed from countless groups throughout the eras, and there would only be more as the evening went on. Teachers were scattered around the room, chatting with one another or patrolling to maintain proper conduct among the kids. The lights didn't go with the grainy sound of a song from 1910. But it didn't matter to them.
"Whoa!" said Elsa, leaning in. She had one hand on the door and the other on her waist. Anna had to agree, both from the sight and Elsa's impression. They looked at each other; Anna shrugged. They went in.
They weaved through the gangsters and carhops to get used to the atmosphere and found themselves by the snack table, though Anna was void of appetite. She heard Elsa exhale while looking around at the lights on the ceiling.
"So. We're really here," Elsa eventually said, turning back to Anna.
"We are," said Anna.
The saxophone finished, transitioning into a band of percussion and trumpets. Jazz age music for sure. Anna and Elsa grinned nervously, excitedly. They scooted a ways from the crowd and started to dance.
One song passed, then two. At the last note Anna collapsed with Elsa against the bleachers. Elsa slid off her boa as she fanned herself.
"Whew. I don't think I've partied that hard for a while," Anna said, adjusting her suit again.
"I forgot how lively some of those bands got."
"It's not electric guitars and screaming vocals, but it gets you moving."
They brought their gazes to the floor. They hadn't touched during the dance, though they stood very close.
Someone snapped down a roll of paper in Anna's face, making her jump. Merida stood in front of her in combat boots and dusty olive fatigues. "Ten-hut, maggot!" she yelled over the music, pointing to the political poster she gripped in one hand. An apelike creature was holding a club while holding a struggling woman. "Relations across the world are going straight to pot, and tensions running high," said Merida. "Do YOU want to save this damsel in distress from the brute? Sign up for the military and make your country proud! You'd be drafted anyway, strapping young men are rare around these parts," she added dismissively.
A second of shock passed. Elsa's mouth twitched in a very clear attempt not to laugh. "I guess when they said anything from the early 1900s they really meant it."
"Seriously. I'm surprised you haven't been kicked out," said Anna, trying to find Merida's eyes from under her oversized army hat.
Merida shrugged. "All's fair in a political time. Your friends came in not too long ago, by the way," she said to Elsa. "I think they're by the voting table somewhere."
"Oh. Thank you," said Elsa.
They smiled at each other and turned away. Anna sensed something in the past made them awkward.
"Well," Merida said a moment later, clapping Anna on the shoulder," I'll leave you two to it. You have about a week to consider the offer, and if the continued propagandist recitals don't settle your decision, we'll come by with a battering ram to take you from your home. War's a desperate time calling for desperate measures."
"We'll keep that in mind," said Anna.
"And in a quick moment of not being in-character, I'm glad to see you doing something you want," Merida said, moving backwards to continue facing Anna. She nodded once more at Elsa before melding back in with the crowd.
Anna stood speechless for a moment. She rotated her head to see Elsa watching her, fingers tapping each other lightly as she waited for Anna to act.
The swingy tunes weren't over. Another upbeat band from the 40s was booming from the subwoofers. Anna grinned and shuffled her shoulders. Elsa took the cue, easing her feet back in for another dance. The rest of the room melted away to see them at the far end of the gym, lost in their private moment.
The lights were dizzyingly bright. There were too many colors to keep track of. Some distance away, the ancient recording of a trumpet reached a vibrant solo. Anna and Elsa sped up to match the beat. Elsa looked so alive to Anna at that point of the dance. Anna slowed to a halt, which Elsa must have sensed. She stopped too, and looked down with a curious crease of the eyebrow.
Anna's head was bent. She regarded Elsa from underneath her eyelashes, hands quietly folded together in front of her stomach. Her right hand unclasped and reached up. Elsa appeared taken aback, but soon after she reached out. Their fingers met somewhere in between.
A tiny electrical jolt surged through Anna right down to her very core. In a split second, the shyness changed. She saw Elsa's face rise in amazement, and knew with stupid certainty it mirrored her own. They locked their fingers and did a twist, Elsa swooping under Anna's arm to appear on her other side. They laughed. Anna thought Elsa had a loud laugh.
The song ended, and they went to the snack table, blushing.
Merida left the gymnasium for a break, having jokingly recruited nine soldiers and someone's mother. The emptiness of the hallway was a stark contrast to the bustling event.
Anna was going to have a lot to answer for in the next week. More than a few people had witnessed her with the Elsa; brick blockade, ice queen of turned down dates. News would spread fast, Merida knew, and within a matter of class periods Vanessa would hear all about it. "Screw what Vanessa thinks," Merida muttered, brushing a curtain of hair away from her eyes. She was getting way too nosey about their lives. It was about time Anna and Rapunzel told her what was what.
She rolled up her recruitment poster and tilted her hat to see below the rim. At the end of the white hallway she could make a left turn to the water fountains. She was ten feet from the corner when a quiet voice came wafting out of the walls.
"Merida," she heard, and the word snaked into her ear. The door to the teacher's lounge was open the tiniest bit, revealing a sliver of darkness.
"Merida," came the voice again, freezing her to the spot. She didn't think her history teacher would chaperone the dance.
As she watched, a long, slender hand appeared from the lounge and settled softly around the door. The nails were painted red this time, manicured into narrowed pointy tips. Merida did nothing. She has to be okay for now, she thought, looking into the murky blackness behind the door's window. They had seen each other a week ago, in her teacher's dismal and glass-rich home. Merida had looked into a mirror hanging outside the kitchen as her host rearranged the perfumes on the living room table and sat next to her on the couch. The smell of lavender had lingered under Merida's clothes seemingly for days, and she'd wondered why her mother had never asked about it.
Merida reasoned she'd be fine, but the door to the lounge opened a little more. The squeak of the hinges was very clear despite the music down the hall. Merida flicked her gaze toward the gymnasium, wondering if anyone else would come out.
"Merida," said her teacher. "I'm a prisoner of war." The hand on the door went up, silently, bending back inside the lounge certainly to its owner's forehead. The next words tumbled out. "I need you to rescue me."
Merida gulped. She walked in.
The teacher closed the door after she entered, sealing them shut with a click. A very dim pull bulb shone above them, casting faint outlines of a table, counter, and fridge. The teacher moved and Merida swiveled around, not wanting to keep her back turned.
There was a papery flutter as the teacher lowered the blinds in front of the window. Her silhouette turned to Merida. Merida's feet became cemented to the floor. She felt childish with the plastic army helmet slipped over her face.
The teacher's fingers lifted it, to look her in the face. Green eyes pierced right into her despite the minimal light. It cloaked the woman's face in shadow but left her mouth clear and white. After what felt like forever, her eyes trailed to the roll of paper in Merida's hand.
"What's that?" she asked, leaning to see. Her body pressed into Merida's. Merida bent backwards. She felt one solitary finger line up her sleeve. "Looking for new recruits, I see," the teacher said, when Merida gave her the grainy poster she'd printed online. She leaned back up to inspect it. Merida put her hands on the table to lift herself, a breath of relief escaping her mouth.
"Oh my," said the teacher softly. "This damsel really is being manhandled by a brute."
She lowered the paper a few inches, to make contact with Merida again. Merida lacked a response, but used a finger to lift her helmet out of her eyes.
The teacher put the poster on the counter. Merida's ears boomed. About fifty feet away there was a dance going on, where people were talking and rocking and having a good time. The sound of a clarinet pushed through the walls.
This is a good time to me, Merida thought as the teacher began to bridge the gap between them. It was secretive and devious and right behind her mother's back. If only she knew! But the fingers the settled on Merida's chest were feeling a heart that thumped with more apprehension than excitement. An image of Anna with Elsa flitted through Merida's mind, before the multicolored lights were blown away like smoke to this dark space with an older woman.
"Sergeant," the teacher said. The faint tang of an apple was on her breath. "Many years from now the people will frown upon your ways. They'll demand peace in place of power." Her other arm glided behind Merida's head. Merida stumbled backwards, hitting the table.
"Deep down, we all know it would be good to get by without fighting," the teacher said, a pleading softness in her voice. Merida looked uneasily at her arm. The teacher's hand left Merida's chest, rising to her chin to tilt it. "Doing things without a struggle," she said. "Isn't that what you want?"
Merida didn't answer.
Under the light of the pull-string bulb, she saw a thin smile stretch along her teacher's face. Her back burned into the table. In the next instant a set of fingers pressed under her uniform to the skin of her shoulders. They flattened and went down her spine. It felt good, and terrifying. The teacher whispered in her ear.
"Make love, not war."
Merida wished her mother knew.