NOT MY WORK. ALL CREDIT BELONGS TO DARKMADAMEFAYE. THIS IS A REQUEST I MADE FOR A CONTINUATION OF ONE OF THEIR OTHER FROZEN FICS. I'M SIMPLY PUTTING IT ON MY ACCOUNT WITH THEIR PERMISSION.
Prince Rolf was head over heels. Elsa was everything he could ever have dreamed of. She was the smartest person he'd ever met. She was absolutely flawlessly beautiful. There wasn't a single thing that could have made her prettier. She was a wonderful queen. She put her subjects first, and worked tirelessly every day to ensure her kingdom was taken care of before she went to bed. She was witty, and compassionate, and firm when she needed to be. She was graceful and dignified, but she didn't think herself above having some silly fun. He knew she would be a good mother just by how she treated her sister.
Elsa was perfect. The only thing he was worried about, as he fiddled with the ring box in his pocket whenever she wasn't looking, was that he couldn't possibly be good enough for her.
I'm not even her rank. She's a queen, and I'm just a prince. Arendelle is so much larger and richer than Hordaland. She's two years older than me and so much wiser. I don't know why she's even seen me this long.
Rolf shifted on the cold stone bench. He'd picked the night to be perfect for Elsa. They were all alone, sitting in the most remote corner of her topiary garden, watching the Northern Lights flame across the sky. They were reflected in her eyes.
He pulled the white box out of his pocket and clutched it in his lap. He started to stand, then lost his nerve and sat back down, then stood again. He dropped to his knee at the end of the movement, afraid if he lost momentum he'd never do it.
"Queen Elsa," he said, then realized he should have just said her name, but it was too late. "Willyoumarryme?" He nearly tore open the box, revealing the fire opal ring.
Elsa's pretty mouth fell open roundly, and she put a demure hand on her chest. "Yes!" she squealed, and he could see her answer in the cloud of vapor in the air.
Later, Rolf remembered almost nothing about the wedding. Elsa wore a white dress, he thought, and he thought the reception was very pretty. The rest he had to put together after the fact by looking at the official painting. At the time, he had been entirely distracted by his bride, and after that, the wedding night.
Elsa went ahead of him into the bedchamber. She smiled secretively, saying there were things ladies had to prepare. Rolf waited in the hallway. He fiddled with his neckline, then remembered it wouldn't be a problem in a few minutes. He wished his father had explained things, as girls' mothers did for them, then thought that might be even more awkward. He knew a few things, like what the tightness in his pants meant, and the vague outline of the act the two of them were about to commence. Elsa probably knew more, if he was being honest. Not that his bride was unchaste, of course! She had just probably come across the knowledge somewhere. She was very smart.
Rolf shifted his weight from foot to foot. Just like Elsa, this was his first time at any of this. Theirs had been a very timid courtship. Their kiss at the altar had been only their fourth. He was nervous, of course, but the longer he waited, the less he felt nervous, and the more he felt… eager.
When Elsa opened the door, he almost ran inside. He looked for the bed for perhaps an instant, and then was distracted by something far less expected in a bedroom.
Oh my lord, Rolf thought, and hastily apologized for the blasphemy. Arendelle practices the bedding ceremony.
What else could explain Chancellor Hafthor and the council of Arendelle present in the queen's bedchambers? Clearly they were here to ensure and attest that consummation was achieved. His first night with his shy bride would be taken in by six graying men he'd barely met. He quailed at the thought, wondering if he'd even be able to perform and knowing they'd just keep coming back if he didn't.
"...Gentlemen," Rolf started. As he was trying to figure out what one said in such a circumstance, two of the men grabbed him roughly by both arms.
It's not a ceremony, it's a coup! Rolf thought in even more panic. He tore at the men, getting one arm free and battering one of them. But he was a gentle man. He'd never participated when his brothers roughhoused. The two men easily dragged him to a chair, where they started tying him in. "Elsa, run!" he screamed to his wife.
A strange, wicked smile crossed Elsa's face. "No, I don't think I will," she said.
The chancellor walked up behind Elsa. He grabbed her chin. Rolf fought wildly at the ropes, terrified that he was about to watch his wife be murdered. But instead the man jerked her head back and kissed her roughly, looking right at Rolf. Elsa leaned back into him and closed her eyes.
Rolf opened his mouth to scream, and a gag was stuffed into it.
Chancellor Hafthor broke the kiss and regarded Rolf. "Allow me to explain," he started."I'm afraid our queen wasn't entirely honest when you began courting her. Elsa is, in fact, already taken. By all of us." he indicated the council with a sweep of his arm. "Long before she met you, she had us, and we had her. There was, though, the problem of an heir. Elsa is enough woman for six men, but legally it can be only one, and a royal one at that."
"Then you came along. It was a perfect match. A shy, naive, quiet young prince who could be convinced to do anything, or at least fooled into it." Chancellor Hafthor's hands ran across Elsa's body as he spoke. He squeezed her breast, and she sighed, arching her back. The other hand lowered to the hemline of her nightgown and then inside it. "Arendelle gets an heir, we get to no longer be bothered with suitors, Elsa gets us, and you get… well, I'm sure sometimes there will be some left for you."
He shoved Elsa. She fell on her hands and knees on the ground. He stood over her, one leg on either side as he ripped her delicate dress open and revealed she wore nothing underneath. From the large pocket in his jacket, he produced a black leather collar. He cinched it around Elsa's neck, then jerked her to the side of the bed. He stroked her hair and looked back at the prince.
"Do enjoy the bedding ceremony."
Rolf's gobsmacked face screwed up in complete shock as the council members converged around Chancellor Hafthor. Hafthor began the orgy by unfastening his pants and taking out his erect member. Elsa surged toward it, her neck extended as she licked and nuzzled it all over. Hafthor grabbed her braid and yanked her head into the position he preferred.
Lord Fenrir approached Elsa from behind. He smacked her ass, hard enough that her legs moved.
"Elsa!" he ordered. "Don't be selfish!"
Without stopping her service to Chancellor Hafthor, Elsa dropped low on her arms, angling her backside up toward Lord Fenrir. Fenrir thrust into the lower of her holes, gripping the divots in her hips for stability.
"Chancellor, it's not nice to keep such a lovely pet to yourself," Lord Larson said. Lord Anders nodded beside him. "Let us pet your lovely bitch." Rolf looked on, knowing he shouldn't look at his wife in this position, but too stunned to turn away.
"By all means, gentlemen," Chancellor Hafthor said. He pulled Elsa up by her hair with one hand and her shoulder with the other, finishing across her throat as he did. He stepped to the side and settled Elsa onto Lord Larson. She supported herself with one hand on his belt. The other hand went to Lord Anders. Elsa's breasts heaved as she squirmed between the two men. She leaned back on her legs, grinding deeper onto Lord Fenrir.
"The queen is a very giving ruler," Lord Lundgren said. "There's always room in her kingdom for one more." He nestled in beside Lord Fenrir, nudging Elsa diagonally so Rolf had a clear view of both of them pressing into her at once.
Elsa whimpered around Lord Larson. Her whole body pistoned as she frantically moaned. Her legs bobbed as she cocked her hips and shoved needily into the two men. She shuddered, tears standing in her eyes, and quivered as her body relaxed from ass to neck, her mouth still dutifully working.
"I think we've pleased her, gentlemen," Chancellor Hafthor said, gently stroking her hair. "But I think she wants more."
At some point Elsa was unaware of, the action moved to the bed. Rolf watched as the men rotated, each taking his turn at every part of Elsa. At one point she was on her back, horizontal across the bed. Lords Svenson and Anders cared for her womanhood, Lord Svenson supplementing their efforts with two fingers in her ass. Elsa's head, canted sharply over the far side of the bed, showed her respect for Lord Lundgren. Her right and left hands tended to Lords Larson and Fenrir. And Chancellor Hafthor knelt astraddle her chest, his hands pushing together the breasts so large they barely needed his support around himself. Rolf heard sounds he wished he could forget, and other sounds he wished he'd been the one to inspire.
One after another, the men reached satisfaction and retired to a comfortable perch to watch the others continue. Last of all came Chancellor Hafthor. He pushed himself up off Elsa, supporting himself with one hand on the bed. He wrapped Elsa's braid around her throat until she was gasping and writhing with the exquisite pain. He pulled her off the bed after him, spilling her facedown onto the floor.
"Don't worry," Chancellor Hafthor said to Rolf, who was trying in vain to break free and save his wife from what certainly looked like death throes. "I'm afraid she doesn't need your help." He pulled Elsa's hair so her face was revealed. Her quivering lips were curled in an exhausted smile, and the ragged breathing and rolled-back eyes was obviously not from the light pressure of the braid. She shook uncontrollably, clearly not seeing him. Fluid leaked from her every opening and streaked her body. She made no move to rise as Chancellor Hafthor dropped her and started toward Rolf.
Chancellor Hafthor untied Rolf and put a friendly arm around his back. Rolf stared wordlessly at the floor as he numbly followed Hafthor's lead. He found himself in the doorway.
"Enjoy the rest of the night," Chancellor Hafthor said. "I'm sure you have nothing to say to anyone. You wouldn't want people to think pruriently about your wife. Not that they'd believe you anyway. The Snow Queen of Arendelle, slaving herself to six older men? Ridiculous." he patted Rolf on the shoulder, pushed him out the door, and shut it.
King Rolf slid to the ground with his back against the door. He stared at the wall on the opposite side of the corridor, simply at a loss for thought. Behind him, he heard bed springs and giggling as the group started again. He felt a stirring inside him. He looked down and was amazed to see the swelling in his pants. What did that mean about himself? Perish the thought. He couldn't possibly be…
The proof's right there, he couldn't deny. He slid a hand down his pants and found the hard member he'd thought was ready for Elsa. He stroked it and leaned back against the wall, enjoying his wedding night to the sounds of his wife's rapture.