Winter's Echo
Chapter Forty-Nine – Exploring
"Avery Elias! Put down that sketchpad and get inside, girl! There are storms coming in and the horses still need to be tended to!" groused a middle-aged woman with sun-kissed skin that contrasted starkly with the white apron tied about her waist. The old, well-worn fabric was covered with dark smudges and flour with similar marks to match on her round, stern face as she gave the young girl a disapproving look. "And don't you even try to argue with me, mi hija, I'm in no mood! It's been years since we have had members of the Árnadalr family in our care and this is no time to be slacking off!"
The twenty-three-year-old brunette sighed as the bird she had been sketching took startled flight at the sound of her mother's annoyed call, looking down at her half-finished sketch of the beautiful creature glumly. "Ay, mi amor, give the girl a break, she's been working hard all day," came a kind, gravelly voice from the barn where her father, a large, gruff-looking man wearing a dark blue tunic and black breeches came out, scrubbing at his dirty hands with a tattered towel that appeared to be in no better shape. "Besides, Brynn, you know Her Majesty is not the kind to fuss or take offense easily," he reasoned as he flashed his daughter a smile. "Especially not to an old friend! Why, I bet Queen Elsa would even be quite happy to see our Avery-"
"Adriene Elias, if you want to slack off right when we are needed, then you go right ahead! I'll have no part of it!" Brynn griped in annoyance, throwing her hands up in the air. "Turn into a lazy slug on that sweet girl's honeymoon, no less!" Adriene groaned, his head falling back a bit in resigned defeat. "Mi amor…" he tried, a slight whine in his voice, but was cut off by a short, annoyed noise from his wife as she stalked back to their house in an exasperated annoyance only a mother and a wife was capable of, cursing this and that in their native Spanish tongue as she did. Adriene sighed and gave his daughter a helpless shrug, a sheepish grin coming to his face when Avery simply giggled at their normal bickering. Her mother truly was a kind, sweet woman, but she was like a mother lion - may all the gods of the world help you if you stood between her and her mission to care for anyone she deemed to be one of her cubs. Especially if one of those cubs were the rarely seen young royals that used to frequent the manor.
Avery smiled up at her father as he came to sit next to her, lovingly tucking a long, curly lock of dark chocolate hair behind her ear as he peered at her half-finished sketch. "He got away, eh, mi hija?" he asked, dark brown eyes turning to the treetops to see if he could help his daughter locate the subject of her sketch. "It's okay, Papi," she reassured him in her soft, sweet voice, hazel eyes twinkling at him mirthfully. "I think he knew better than to stick around, or Mama would have tried to put him to work, too," she said with a giggle, tucking her pencil into the binding of her sketchpad and closing it, careful to not let long, tan fingers covered in lead dust mar any of the pages. The two shared a secret laugh with one another before dark brown eyes glanced up at the sky, his brows furrowing a bit at the dark clouds far in the distance. "Your mother does have a point about those storms, though. Did you happen to see if her Majesty and her new wife went back to the house?" he asked, not taking his eyes off of the sky.
Avery shook her head, her gaze drifting in the direction of the beach. "I didn't, Papi – I must confess, I was a bit distracted, though. They may have come and gone without my knowledge." Adriene nodded and stood, brushing off his breeches and offering his hand to help his daughter up. "I know Queen Anna asked that they were not be disturbed unless absolutely necessary but being caught in a storm on that beach is not something the good Queen would thank us for allowing to happen," he reasoned. "Be a good girl and go make sure they are safely settled back in the manor before the storm comes, won't you?" he asked with a smile, leaning forward to place a sweet kiss on her forehead. "And be sure you are back home before it hits as well. I'll take care of the horses."
Avery nodded and smiled at her father, lifting the skirt of her simple white and green summer dress and jogging toward the beach – though she had plenty of time before the storm hit, she wanted to try to get a sketch of the beach started before she was forced indoors herself if she could. She grinned as she reached the hill that would lead her to the beach, imagining the look on her old friend's face when she saw her. Avery had first met the royal siblings when her parents came into the family's employ as keepers of their private estate. Her family came to Arendelle as refugees from one of the many conquered kingdoms of Spain, fleeing the tyrannical rule of King Alvaro the Vanquisher, now known in death as Alvaro the Damned. He was a cruel man who dabbled in the mystic arts, biting off more than he could chew in his thirst for power and plunging his entire empire into the depths of a terrible curse that left his land and those he had conquered bare and fruitless. The royal family of Arendelle, so unlike the cruel King which they had fled, offered them a home and jobs managing their estate in a genuine desire to help and had earned the eternal loyalty of the Elias family since.
Despite their impossibly different positions in life, the three young girls were fast friends and had been thick as thieves in their youth, living for the days the family would summer at the manor and dreading the end of the season when all three of their hearts would be broken by an inevitable goodbye. Many times, the King and Queen had offered for the family to come work in the castle instead, but each time Avery's mother and father politely declined. Though the House of Arendelle had shown them nothing but kindness, the sting of power had been too keenly felt by the Spanish natives to be comfortable living in a castle, despite young Avery's desperate pleas for them to reconsider. Avery shook the dark thoughts from her head as she climbed the hill, now fervently hoping she would find her old friend on the beach. It had been far too long since she had last seen either of the young royals of House Arendelle – sixteen years, to be exact.
Well, that wasn't entirely true; she had caught a glimpse of the sprightly young redhead the day of Elsa's coronation, the then-princess zooming right past her in the town square as she dashed through the throng of people. Avery had traveled a long way to be there on Elsa's special day, despite the slightness of her chance to see either of her friends, but she wouldn't have been able to forgive herself if she didn't try. The young Spaniard instantly recognized the bubbly woman – Anna's spirit was unmistakable, even after thirteen years and she eagerly tried to catch up with her old friend. By the time she had found her, however, the redhead was a bit…occupied with a handsome young man in fine clothes – a visiting royal, no doubt. She resigned herself to attempt to see her later on in the festivities, heading back to the courtyard just as Elsa appeared on a balcony to address her people.
That was when things had gotten interesting for the young Spanish woman.
Avery remembered the odd stuttering of her heart when she laid eyes on her old friend. The young, shy blonde girl she had known all those years ago had grown into a stunningly beautiful woman, exuding an air of confidence and majesty that helped her live up to every inch the ruler she was about to become. She looked out across her citizens gathered in the courtyard with a calm, serene smile on her face, the epitome of elegance, grace, poise, and a charm.
For the love of the Gods, how was it possible for one woman to be so breathtakingly exquisite?
Avery had known then and there that the yearning she felt in that moment was far beyond that of simply rekindling a friendship. The hazel-eyed Spaniard was smitten with the beautiful queen, struck by an odd rendition of love at first sight. She had never given romance much thought in her young life until that moment – it simply wasn't something that had interested the young artist, which was fortunate due to how rarely she had an opportunity to meet people her age. Outside of their monthly trips into the village proper, her parents and their livestock were her only company and she had been content.
But when she had seen Elsa on that balcony in all of her regal glory…
Avery shook her head to clear it, her heart bouncing about in her chest on waves of butterflies in anticipation of seeing Elsa again. She knew the queen was happily married to the mysterious leader of the Northuldra, but that didn't mean her heart would suddenly abandon its infatuation with the gorgeous blonde. As she cleared the top of the hill, hazel eyes scanned the beach for the couple, smiling when she spotted them on the hammock her parents had set up at Queen Anna's request. She resumed her jog down the hill toward them, slowing after a moment when she drew near enough to take in the peaceful scene.
The Northuldran woman lay in the hammock with her head resting comfortably on the pillow, a long, thick braid of luscious dark hair draped over her shoulder. One long, toned leg was draped over the side of the hammock at the knee, her bare foot dangling a foot or so above the ground. The queen, somehow having grown even more beautiful since her coronation, lay peacefully atop her new wife with her head nestled comfortably under the dark-haired woman's chin and wrapped up in her protective embrace. Avery blushed deeply, her mouth going dry when she realized her old friend wore nothing more than a thin, billowing white shirt, the garment stopping just barely above her mid-thigh.
As Avery began to ponder how she would go about waking the sleeping pair without putting all three of them in a horribly awkward situation, Elsa's face suddenly scrunched slightly in her sleep. A traitorous lock of her own white-gold mane had fallen over her face, tickling the sleeping woman and beginning to rouse her from her peaceful slumber. On instinct, Avery, ducked behind the thick trunk of one of the trees partway up the hill to avoid being detected – if Elsa woke up on her own, then the young artist could avoid an awkward, half-dressed meeting with her old friend in favor of planning out a more appropriate, purposeful, and proper reunion.
Hazel eyes watched with quiet awe at what happened next.
Sensing her bride's discomfort, sleepy twilight eyes opened and looked down at the unsettled woman in her arms, a warm smile coming to her face. She reached up with a sun-kissed hand and lovingly brushed the blonde's hair back from her face, gently shushing the sleeping woman in her arms and pulling her closer. The Northuldran then leaned down and placed the softest, most loving kiss Avery could have imagined on Elsa's head as she ran her fingers soothingly through white-gold locks, her other hand gently gliding up and down the already settling queen's back as she lulled her wife back to sleep. Certain that Elsa was sleeping peacefully once more, twilight eyes fell closed as well, her hand slowing in its movements through the queen's hair before stopping altogether as she drifted off again, a loving smile on her lips. Avery slowly fell back to sit in the sandy brush, hazel eyes never leaving the peacefully sleeping couple.
It was the most tender scene the artist had ever witnessed.
Every time the Spaniard tried to find the will to stand so she may carry out her task of waking them, she found her hopelessly romantic heart would simply not allow it. What kind of a monster would she be to interrupt such a loving, relaxing moment for the women after the hell they had just been through? Her heart had ached for her friend when news of the Northuldran's death had reached their family. It had been well-known how close the pair had grown and the thought of the queen, who had already been through so much loneliness, losing yet another person dear to her struck a painful chord within the artist. Hazel eyes flicked up toward the storm clouds still a way off in the distance, chewing on her lower lip thoughtfully. She could let the couple enjoy their peaceful slumber for just a while longer before the storm became any real nuisance, though she wished she could leave them to their serenity for as long as they desired. After the trials they had been through, the rare alone time they shared with one another deserved to remain uninterrupted and cherished, especially when Elsa looked so incredibly content. Avery smiled wistfully at the romantic scene before her – they really did make a beautiful couple. So beautiful, in fact…
Without a second thought, Avery opened her sketchbook and instantly went to work right there in the sand, her original purpose officially thrown to the wind in favor of time. Never before had she seen love so perfectly encapsulated, the purity of the moment squeezing her heart so tightly she feared it may never release her until she had captured its likeness. Hazel eyes darted between the loving couple and her sketchpad, her hand moving swiftly across the parchment as their likeness began to appear beautifully across it. As long, slender fingers rubbed across the lead to create the shadows in the dimples of the Northuldran's soft smile she paused to stare at the dark-haired woman so lovingly holding the blonde queen. Despite the twinge of longing and jealousy surging through her, she couldn't help but admit how mesmerizingly beautiful the woman who had captured her friend's heart was. Accounts of her loyalty and devotion to both of the Queens of Arendelle had reached even her family, from caring for Elsa in the forest to saving both sisters from a horrible fate by taking their place, willingly accepting the most gruesome of fates and sacrificing her own life for theirs. These tales whirled through her mind as she drew, the time flying by as she drew the faces to all the impossible stories she had been told.
The Northuldran really was quite fascinating to sketch, Avery had to confess. A surge of excitement coursed through her at the prospect of capturing her unique features, the likeness of which she had never seen before in her rather secluded life. Keen, artist's eyes captured the exotic beauty of her heart-shaped face, defined jaw, and long, dark tresses. Talented fingers sketched out toned arms in their sweet, protective embrace of the blonde woman, somehow strong and sure yet impossibly delicate and gentle at the same time. She doubted there was a force on Earth that could harm the beautiful queen while the Northuldran still drew breath – and who would dare attempt it with those piercing twilight eyes on them? The way the sharp colors flashed within them was surely enough to intimidate even the bravest of souls and incredibly difficult to capture. She was sure she had never seen such colors in a person's eyes before.
So lost she was in her art, she realized far too late her mistake.
Avery's fingers froze over the parchment as her eyes slowly lifted from her canvas to meet those she has just been mindlessly sketching seconds ago, the blazing intensity of the twilight pools locked onto her reminding her of a snarling wolf defending her pups. The young Spaniard remained completely still, not even breathing as they seemed to pierce her very soul. The Northuldran's arms had tightened protectively around her queen, the leg that was dangling over the edge of the hammock propping up to block Avery's view of the half-dressed blonde. After a short, tense moment, those beautiful eyes seemed to soften as their gaze turned from threatening to questioning, as though somehow sensing she was not a danger. The artist suddenly felt as though she could breathe again, her cheeks glowing bright red as embarrassment at having been caught watching them sleep replaced her fear at having been found out.
Instinctively, she turned her sketchpad around to show the Northuldran her work, proving her innocent purpose for spying on the pair. Honeymaren peered at the drawing, dark eyebrows rising at the quality before looking back into dark brown eyes. Avery carefully made her way down the hill, holding up her drawing in a shield-like fashion. "I'm so sorry, Your Highness," she pleaded quietly so as not to rouse the queen, tears of shame and embarrassment welling in her eyes at having been caught. "My father sent me to warn you about the storm coming in and the two of you were so peaceful, I-I couldn't bring myself to wake you just yet a-and she just looks so happy I couldn't help but sketch—" Honeymaren lifted a finger to her slightly smirking lips to silence her remarkably Anna-like rambling, making a small calming motion with her hand to settle the panicking woman down. She glanced at the darkening storm clouds in the distance Avery had mentioned before returning her eyes to the fretting woman, resuming running her fingers through her sleeping wife's hair soothingly.
"You are clearly no assassin – or, if you are, you are quite poor at your job," she whispered with a smile and a wink. Avery's eyes widened slightly, shaking her head vehemently. "I would never hurt Els—I-I mean Her Majesty," she insisted, her brows furrowing as she fretted nervously with her hands. Honeymaren nodded, making another calming motion with her hand. "I can sense you have no ill intent, or you would not have lived long enough to approach, let alone apologize. I am Honeymaren Nattura, Elsa's wife. Who might you be?" Avery swallowed thickly at the not-so-subtle warning in the Northuldran's deceptively smooth, calm alto voice and took a breath to collect herself, offering a deep curtsy. "I am Avery Elias, Your Highness. My family tends to the estate," she answered in a rush. "I…"
The young artist paused for a moment, debating the wisdom of her next words. "When I was younger, I was friends with both of the Queens. We would play together when the royal family summered here," she said finally. She didn't want to sound as though she were ingratiating herself with the royal siblings she, quite honestly, barely knew anymore, but she figured a little credibility could be crucial in a moment such as this. "I see," Honeymaren murmured, placing a soft kiss on Elsa's head before twilight eyes flicked back up to hers. "And you believe this gives you the right to spy on us? When the Queen is indisposed and half-dressed, no less?" she asked, arching one eyebrow.
Avery's eyes widened, holding her hand up in front of her. "N-No, not at all, Your Highness, I swear—" The young artist blinked, her mouth snapping shut when Honeymaren raised her hand once more, a small smirk on her face. "Relax, I'm just teasing. Well, to a degree," she amended, fixing her with a more serious look. "I can sense your feelings, you now. I don't take kindly to strangers having amorous feelings toward my wife, old friend or not." Avery's face burned, hazel eyes turning away from twilight pools that knew too much.
"I suppose I can't blame you."
The young artist blinked, her eyes flicking back up to look at the Northuldran to find her focus on the sleeping blonde, watching her with a loving smile on her face. "I, more than most, know how impossible it is not to fall in love with her," she murmured quietly, her smile growing slightly as she looked back up into hazel eyes not with disdain or jealousy, but with understanding and acceptance. "Still, I don't think either you or Elsa would appreciate waking to such a reunion, do you?" she asked with a smirk. "And if we don't wake her, that storm soon will," she added, nodding her head slightly toward the dark and angry clouds that were now much closer. Avery nodded her head in understanding, a small smile of gratitude on her face. "Thank you for your graciousness, Your Highness. Again, I can't apologize enough for—" Honeymaren raised her hand once more with a smile. "Avery, was it? I'll make you a deal," she said, gesturing to her sketchbook. "You obviously have a great deal of talent. Why don't you come to the manor for breakfast tomorrow? You can surprise Elsa and present your finished drawing to her as a gift."
Avery smiled brightly and nodded emphatically. "Thank you, Your Highness – I would be honored," she replied graciously, her heart pounding as she closed up her sketchbook and bowed deeply before turning and scurrying back up the hill, only slowing down when her home came into view. She sighed deeply before leaning against a large tree as a peal of thunder rang out across the sky. She covered her face with her hand and groaned at the awkwardness of the encounter, trying to decide if the mirth in the Royal Knight's twilight eyes should make her feel better or add to her mortification. The artist smiled a bit as she glanced down at her sketchpad tucked under her arm. "At least she thinks I'm talented," she mused to herself as her small smile turned to a smirk. "And she didn't kill me. I suppose that's a plus, too," she added with a quiet laugh. A bright flash of lightning followed quickly by another loud, ominous crash of thunder she could feel rumble through the ground beneath her feet pulled the artist from her musings. She looked up just in time to be splashed with the first few drops of rain, letting out a small squeak of alarm before rushing toward her house with her sketchpad hugged close to her to protect it from the rain. Avery sighed in relief as she made it through her front door just as the skies opened up and it began to downpour, quickly looking over her sketchpad to ensure all was well. The circumstances under which she had begun her new sketch were a little shaky, but one thing was for certain in the artist's mind as she ran to her room, closing the door behind her - it was going to be a masterpiece by the time she gave it to Elsa.
Honeymaren smirked as she watched Avery dash up the sandy hill, chuckling as the woman nearly tripped over herself to escape the embarrassing situation. The fire maven waited until she couldn't hear her anymore before glancing back at the sky, taking a deep breath as she smelled the fresh scent of an imminent storm. She took a moment to appreciate the ominous beauty of the nearly black clouds coalescing over the endless sea, the ever-darkening water and sky clashing starkly with the bright sand of the beach it had matched so well with only hours ago. Honeymaren closed her eyes and allowed the breeze to brush across her face as the wind began to pick up, soothed by the vastness of the scene before her despite the threatening storm approaching.
With a soft sigh, Honeymaren turned her head to smile down at her peacefully sleeping wife, cupping her cheek with her hand and lightly running her thumb back and forth across it. "Time to wake up, my goddess," she murmured lovingly. She smiled when Elsa merely sighed softly at the sound of her voice and snuggled in deeper. "Elsa," she called gently, tickling her ear a bit with her fingers. "We have to go back inside, there's a storm coming." The queen mumbled in annoyance in her sleep and turned her head away from the offending digits. Honeymaren chuckled and decided to try another tactic. "Elsa, Bruni set fire to the lavvo again." The noaide laughed when Elsa's head immediately lifted from her chest, barely open eyes looking about frantically for her mischievous, fiery companion.
Sleepy crystalline eyes looked at her openly laughing wife in confusion before her brain kicked into gear, a glare quickly replacing the look of confusion. "What a horrible way to wake up your wife," she groused with an adorably pouty face, dropping her forehead against Honeymaren's chest. "I was having such a good dream, too," she lamented, despite the smile tugging at her lips from the sound of the fire maven's laughter. "I'm sorry, sweet spirit," Honeymaren said with a smile, running her fingers soothingly through Elsa's hair in apology. "In my defense, I did try to wake you up sweetly." The queen replied with a noncommittal huff, her faux ire tempered by her wife's pacifying ministrations.
A loud crack of thunder echoing across the water had the winter spirit's head snapping up again, her whole body instantly tensing up at the unwelcome sound. Her arctic gaze eyed the clouds worriedly before they locked onto what was once a calm, peaceful sea that had helped lull her to sleep, now an angry and turbulent entity. The tumultuous surface of the water hid the treacherous undertow Elsa was all too aware of – it was her, after all, who had to receive the detailed initial briefing on her parent's death during which the beleaguered captain of their navy had to explain why there was no chance the king and queen had survived. The storm had been too ferocious and the current far too powerful for even the strongest of swimmers to have overcome. As the queen stared at the ominous skyline she wondered, as she always did, if a sight like this had been one of the last of her beloved parents.
"Hey," came Honeymaren's smooth voice, her fingers gently caressing her cheek when her head snapped back to find soft twilight eyes gazing at her sadly. "It's alright, baby," she murmured softly as she brushed white-gold bangs back from her furrowed brow before cupping her cheek, her thumb lightly brushing back and forth across her skin in a slow, soothing motion. Elsa's eyes softened at the caring touch, a hint of a smile tugging at her lips as she turned her head to press a slow kiss into her wife's palm. "Sorry…" she murmured quietly against the warm skin. "There's nothing to be sorry for, Elsa," Honeymaren replied, her voice full of gentle understanding as she turned her own eyes back to the skies. "The rain will be here any moment, though, so we should head back." Elsa nodded in agreement, leaning forward to give her wife a chaste kiss before carefully dismounting the hammock. A bright flash of lightning followed by a peal of thunder even louder than before made the queen jump and turn toward the ocean again, features once more laced with nervousness and tension.
Honeymaren tenderly slipped her arms around Elsa's waist from behind, pulling the tense woman close and murmuring quietly in her ear. "Baby…can I try something?" Elsa blinked, turning her head to look at her questioningly. The noaide gently turned Elsa in her embrace so the spirit of winter was facing her before pressing her forehead lovingly against hers, the queen immediately closing her eyes at the comforting touch. "Do you trust me, Elsa?" The blonde sighed softly, pressing in closer to her wife. "Always," she whispered just before she jumped at the feel of several large raindrops splashing across her head and shoulders. She quickly moved to head back toward the house, fully expecting Honeymaren to do the same before strong arms halted her movement as the fire maven held fast. Elsa blinked in surprise, looking at her wife questioningly. "Maren…?" she asked, gasping softly when the skies opened up and it instantly began to downpour.
"Maren, what are you do—" she began, but was silenced when warm, full lips captured hers in a fierce kiss, forcing all rational thought from her mind in an instant. The queen instinctively wrapped her arms around her wife's neck as she was pulled close, allowing herself to be guided backward until she was pressed firmly against the trunk of one of the trees the hammock was tied to. Honeymaren quickly deepened the kiss, her hands swiftly slipping beneath Elsa's already soaked through shirt to lay warm palms against the curves of the queen's waist, pressing flush against her as she did her best to kiss her senseless amidst the pouring rain.
Just as suddenly as it began, Honeymaren pulled away, her lips hovering centimeters from the queen's. "Keep your eyes closed," she whispered to the blonde, pressing her forehead against hers lovingly as her thumbs slowly stroked the smooth, soft skin of Elsa's waist. "Take it all in." Elsa swallowed thickly, her brow furrowing in confusion. Honeymaren kissed her once more, this time slowly and softly, letting her lips linger against her wife's for a moment before speaking again. "Smell the rain, Elsa. Listen to the waves," she murmured quietly, slowly sliding her hands up and down the queen's curves, slick from the rain. "Feel my hands on your skin. Don't let your mind wander to those dark places. Ground yourself in the here and now. Stay with me," she whispered to her, leaning forward to plant slow, loving kisses along her neck.
The queen sighed softly at her noaide's touch, trying to do as her wife asked. She breathed deeply through her nose, inhaling the fresh smell of rain mixed with the salty sea air and felt an odd sense of cleansing within her, allowing it to clear her mind. A large boom of thunder made her jump slightly; this time, however, her fear was instantly replaced by desire when Honeymaren sucked sharply at her pulse point. Slender fingers tangled in dark, wet locks as she held her wife close, panting quietly as nervousness and fear gave way to passion and love. Suddenly the thunder, so loud it vibrated through her chest, was spurring her on rather than shutting her down, her noaide's massaging hands becoming more and more passionate and possessive as the storm continued to rage. She closed her eyes and pressed her forehead against her wife's.
"Touch me, Maren," she whispered in her ear, an airy smile tugging at her lips when the Northuldran groaned in approval, immediately pushing her more firmly against the tree and eliciting a soft gasp from the queen. A warm, strong hand immediately gripped the winter spirit's creamy thigh, slick with rain, and hiked it up over her hip to open her up to the fire maven, the other quickly ducking down to cup an entirely different kind of wetness. Honeymaren buried her face in the queen's neck, drinking in the blonde's gasping moan when she quickly forced two fingers deep inside of her. She groaned when she felt Elsa's walls clench around them greedily, pulling them back slowly only to quickly force them inside again. Over and over she penetrated the queen this way, her strokes rough and commanding as Elsa's body begged for more, the monarch's hips rolling hard to eagerly meet each thrust. As the sky roared above, Elsa cried out her beloved's name over and again in defiance of the squall that surrounded them.
A sudden gust of incredibly strong wind interrupted the couple in their throes of passion, whipping their wet locks about in a frenzy – the tempest would not be ignored any longer. Honeymaren was forced to use both hands to hold both she and her passion-weakened wife steady, lest they be knocked over by the force of the wind. Rather than shrink back in fear, Elsa instead laughed at the ridiculousness of the situation, much to the fire maven's delight. It appeared nothing could fill her beloved winter spirit with confidence like the power of touch and passion. Honeymaren grinned broadly at her, grabbing the blonde's hand and taking off running toward the path that led back to the house, both spirits laughing as they stumbled their way across the sand through the storm.
They were soaked to the bone by the time they got to the house and dashed through the still wide-open doors of their bedroom, laughing as they tried to catch their breath. Luckily the wind was blowing fiercely in the opposite direction, so the room was clean and dry, not accounting for the puddles now pooling at the panting women's feet. Honeymaren moved to close the doors, only for Elsa to reach out and grasp her hand, halting her. "Wait!" she said quickly, a coy smile tugging at her lips. "Leave it open…" Honeymaren grinned when Elsa gave her hand a small tug, pulling her further into the bedroom – a call the Northuldran willingly followed. Elsa felt a sharp pull at something primal deep inside of her when she saw her wife's hungry gaze rake up and down her form, the soaked shirt clinging to her body like a second skin. Her own fingers twitched with the desire to touch the Northuldran as well, the now see-through fabric clinging to every sharp line, every soft curve, every chord of defined muscle of the noaide's body.
Her wife was a work of art.
"The Duchess de Chagny was kind enough to gift us a bottle of delicious liquor," Honeymaren drawled out leisurely, slipping her arms around Elsa's waist as a teasing smirk tugged at her lips. "What do you say to a drink to warm up before I rip this shirt off of you and make love to you all night?" Elsa bit her lip coyly, slowly running her hands up her wife's chest and grinning when the noaide bit back a soft moan at the caress before leaning into her. "I think I'd rather have a drink and then see what else she has gifted to us for our honeymoon…" she trailed off quietly, biting her lip teasingly and looking into passion-darkened twilight eyes from beneath long lashes, a coy smile tugging at her lips. "Yeah?" Honeymaren asked with a smirk; a smirk that turned into a full-on grin when the queen sat on the edge of the bed and daintily crossed her legs at the knee, leaning back on her hands as she gazed at her wife with playful bedroom eyes and nodded her head toward the dressing room. "Go on, then," she challenged, unable to hide her smile of nervous excitement.
Honeymaren made a show of rubbing her hands together in anticipation before dashing into the large dressing room and out of sight, leaving the winter spirit giggling at her antics. Elsa took a few breaths to try to calm her nerves – though there was very little the inexperienced queen wouldn't find a complete novelty, having no idea of what Belle could have gifted them still made her nervous. Honeymaren emerged with both the bottle of cognac and a plain wooden box, having removed the simple paper wrapping, and set it on the bed next to Elsa before kneeling on the ground in front of it. "Alright, let's see what all the secrecy was about," she said, handing the bottle of liquor to her wife before undoing the latch of the box and lifting the lid.
Neither woman said anything for several long moments as they stared wide-eyed at the contents of the box. Finally, Honeymaren was the first to speak. "Elsa…" she began slowly, twilight eyes flicking between the box and her speechless wife. "Is that a-"
"Yes," came Elsa's squeak of a reply, her voice cracking as blood rushed to her face. Honeymaren nodded dazedly. "And…and I'm supposed to-" Elsa's rapid, mortified nodding cut off the rest of her question. To the queen's embarrassment, Honeymaren reached in and removed the item in question, examining the realistic-looking rubber accessory curiously and tugging experimentally on the soft, leather fastenings attached to it. The Northuldran looked up from the strap-on to her wife's impossibly red face with a bright grin and laughed.
"I love the French!"
Honeymaren laughed again when Elsa uncorked the bottle of cognac and immediately took a deep swallow at her declaration, coughing as it burned down her throat. "By the Gods, that woman is trying to shock me into an early grave," she muttered, using her hand to fan her heated face. "Why is it so hot in here?" she asked, pointedly looking away from the sex toy in her wife's hand and taking another drink. Honeymaren smirked and set it back in the box, reaching for the small note attached inside the lid of the box, her eyes scanning the contents with an ever-growing grin. "Well, it's about to get a lot hotter, my queen," she said with a laugh as she read the card aloud to her wife.
Mes amis,
Don't be shy! These items are well proven and incredibly popular in my country. Aside from the obvious main attraction, I've also included two of my personal favorites for a romantic evening: a bottle of the finest rosebud massage oil to relax and pamper each other, and, if you are feeling a bit more adventurous, a swathe of special silk, nearly impossible to break. I have taken the liberty of having it woven with unique knots called 'shackle bonds' – you will see how they got their name, should you decide to indulge.
Enjoy yourselves!
Belle
P.S I hope Elsa enjoys the cognac.
Elsa blinked at that last sentence, promptly removing the bottle from her lips with a slight glare at her smirking wife and pointedly corking it once more before tossing it on the bed behind her. Honeymaren chuckled and stood from her kneeling position, beginning to undress without another word. Elsa swallowed nervously as she watched her wife peel away her wet clothes and toss them over the back of the chair, crystalline eyes flicking between the contents of the box and her increasingly naked wife. The queen gasped softly when the Northuldran took her hands and gently tugged her into a standing position, pulling her close to her before strong, sure fingers began to slowly undo the buttons of Elsa's own drenched shirt. "Maren…" Elsa breathed before being shushed gently by the fire-maven as she continued to work her way down the last few buttons.
Honeymaren kissed the queen softly, waiting until she felt Elsa relax beneath her touch before slowly peeling the wet garment away from cool, pale skin and letting it fall to the floor as she tangled her fingers into silken locks and pulled her closer, deepening the kiss. When they were finally forced to break apart for air, Honeymaren nodded her head toward the bed expectantly. Elsa nervously bit her lip, her eyes darting back and forth between the box and the bed and her wife hesitantly. It wasn't that she wasn't curious or even averse to the idea, yet somehow, she was filled with the same nervous, uncertain anticipation and excitement she had felt on their wedding night. Twilight eyes followed the queen's apprehensive gaze, softening as she felt the anxiousness rolling off her wife in waves.
"Hey, it's alright, baby," she murmured gently, cupping Elsa's face in her hands and drawing her crystalline gaze to her own, filled with warmth and reassurance. "We're not going to do anything with that right now, or ever if you don't want to," she promised, running her thumbs back and forth soothingly across pale cheeks. "We're just going to cuddle up in our bed and relax for a bit with a drink to warm up from the rain." Honeymaren smiled softly at the uncertain, guilty look on the queen's face, reaching for the box and pointedly snapping it shut before picking it up and setting it out of the way on the nightstand. She chuckled quietly at the face Elsa made, an odd mixture between disappointment, guilt, and relief. Honeymaren wrapped her arms around her wife and pulled her close in a strong, protective embrace, smiling when she felt Elsa instantly begin to relax and wrap her arms around the fire maven's neck, snuggling even closer against her. "I don't need any of that to make love to you, my goddess; nor do you need to do anything to show me you love me," she murmured to her reassuringly, pulling away only enough to bump her forehead against the blonde's playfully. "All I need is you." Elsa smiled brightly at her, nodding as the last bit of tension left her – though she already knew the noaide would never pressure her into anything, it still made her heart swell to be so decisively reassured.
"Now, come on, wife," Honeymaren urged playfully. "Into bed with you," she commanded gently, reaching down to give a light, impish pinch to the blonde's exposed rear and laughing at the indignant yelp it elicited from the queen as she ducked away from her. Honeymaren laughed and scooped the blonde into her arms, the delighted laughter of her bride music to her ears as it echoed around the room with the sounds of the storm. She playfully clambered into the bed and dramatically flopped onto it, cradling the giggling queen in her arms all the while as she made a show of tucking the duvet around them snugly, being sure to snag the bottle of cognac as she did. She stacked several pillows behind her before she settled the beaming blonde back against her between her legs, bending them at the knee to provide comfortable armrests for the queen as she uncorked the bottle with a grin. She took a large sip and hummed in pleasure as the earthy warmth spread through her chest before offering the bottle to Elsa with a smile.
Elsa chuckled and took the bottle with a questioning look, arching an eyebrow. "We're just going to get drunk and watch the storm?" she asked teasingly. Honeymaren grinned and wrapped her arms lovingly around the queen, one across her chest and shoulders and the other snaking around her waist as she hummed in affirmation. "I suppose we could have a conversation, if you're into that sort of marriage," she teased as she pulled the love of her life close, nuzzling her cheek. "I don't care what we do, so long as I get to do it with you, my goddess." Elsa closed her eyes and sighed deeply in contentment in the all-encompassing embrace, her every sense filled with the Northuldran. She laid her head back against Honeymaren's shoulder, breathing deeply of her natural scent mixed with the faint smell of fresh rain and the spiced liquor.
"I am more than content to simply drink and hold you in my arms," Honeymaren continued with a playful twinkle in her eye. "So long as we are not drinking that poison the rest of your family is so fond of," she amended with a shudder. Elsa giggled and took an unhurried sip of the cognac, savoring its flavor before handing it back to her wife. "I will never understand it either, darling," she said with a smile, leaning back into her embrace once more. "Nor do I care to attempt it. It is traditional at weddings, so after Kristoff and Anna get married our suffering will be over," she reassured as she laid her head on Honeymaren's shoulder and looked out at the window, watching the storm rage outside as the rain came down in hard droves.
The newlyweds stayed that way in companionable silence for a long while soaking in the quiet closeness of their embrace, the only sounds being the rain and the sloshing of the delightful cognac they sipped as they let their minds wander. Honeymaren felt the queen gradually become heavier and more relaxed in her arms as the liquor began to take hold, though crystalline eyes continued to observe the storm. Just as she was about to inquire what her wife was thinking, Elsa spoke up first. "Thank you, Maren," Elsa said in a quiet voice, her eyes never leaving the tempest just beyond their door. Honeymaren blinked, corking the bottle of liquor, nearly a third of it gone, and setting it on the nightstand. "For what, sweet spirit?" she asked curiously, pulling the blonde closer. A small, nostalgic smile tugged at the queen's lips as she brought her hands up to lay on the arms across her chest and squeezed gently. "For always finding a way to save me, no matter what trouble I find myself in," she said softly. "Nearly every day you are finding ways to save me from myself, from my fears and doubts and insecurities. You've saved my life four times since we've met and I just…" Elsa sighed softly then, shaking her head a bit and laughing quietly – she should know the limits of human language when it came to describing her beloved by now. "I'm just so grateful for you, Honeymaren…to have someone as special as you love me."
Honeymaren chuckled, placing a slow, tender kiss to her temple before nuzzling against her affectionately. "I've only saved your life three times, my love, and don't forget, you've saved mine twice as well. Three if you count my return from the afterlife - it was your love, after all, that earned me a new life," she pointed out with a smile. "Being in love with you doesn't make me special, Elsa. If anything, you loving me back is what makes me special." Elsa simply shook her head as she continued to observe the torrential rains. "Four times," she insisted softly. "You've saved my life four times, noaide," she said as she stared out into the storm with unseeing eyes. "Huh?" Honeymaren asked with a raised eyebrow, looking up at the ceiling thoughtfully before her brow furrowed in confusion. "The bear, the forest, and when I killed Ulrik," she said, holding out her hand and lifting a finger as she counted them off. "Three." Crystalline eyes finally shifted from the storm to gaze at her wife's hand holding up three fingers, her own slowly gliding up her wrist and palm. "When you came back to me," she said quietly, pushing up a fourth finger briefly before lacing their fingers together and watching in quiet fascination as a hand she had once feared, even hated for so long now lovingly caressed that of her wife's. "Four," she whispered, bringing Honeymaren's hand to her lips and kissing it softly.
"Elsa…" Honeymaren breathed quietly at the admission as she took in what her bride had just told her. Before she could speak, the queen turned slightly in her embrace, reaching up with her other hand and pulling her down for a deep, powerful kiss. The fire maven groaned softly at the sudden passion from her beautiful wife, eagerly returning the kiss as she tasted the fine cognac on the queen's tongue. Spurred on by the Northuldran's eager acceptance, Elsa pulled away just long enough to turn in her wife's embrace entirely, pressing her back against the small mountain of pillows and settling above her before capturing her lips once more. Honeymaren sighed softly, burying her fingers in waves of molten white-gold as she relaxed against the pillows, gladly allowing the queen to take all the control she wanted in this rare moment of confident desire.
"Elsa," she gasped out quietly when the blonde shifted her weight, her thigh settling between Honeymaren's legs and pressing against her core. Tan fingers tightened their grasp on silky tresses when the queen's lips instantly found the sensitive skin of her neck, perfect teeth nipping possessively at her throat and marking the noaide as her own before lovingly soothing the area with a warm tongue. Cool fingers danced teasingly across sun-kissed skin, leaving delicate trails of frost in their wake as the spirit of winter lovingly worshipped her maven of fire. She began to rock slightly as she pressed her thigh more firmly against Honeymaren, answering the Northuldran's soft moans with one of her own.
"I'm calling in our bet," Elsa whispered huskily, reaching up to grab Honeymaren's hands in her own and deliberately planting them on the mattress on either side of the fire maven's head. Passion-hazed twilight eyes blinked up at the spirit of winter in confusion. "What…?" she panted out dazedly, moaning when the queen pressed her thigh against her pointedly. "Our bet," she repeated, a mischievous twinkle in her arctic eyes. "You conceded, which means I win, does it not?" Honeymaren blinked again, stuttering from the sudden need to use her brain. "I-I-I guess, I-I mean-" she stammered out only for Elsa to silence her with a firm, possessive kiss that made her head spin before pressing her lips close to her ear. "From this moment on, you are mine, noaide," the queen whispered huskily in her ear, punctuating her claim with a firm press of her thigh that had Honeymaren crying out softly and arching into her suddenly possessive wife, a grin tugging at her lips as she looked up at the blonde with half-lidded eyes. "I am yours to command, my Queen…if you think you can handle me," she nearly purred at her, smirking when the blonde's arctic eyes noticeably darkened with desire at the blatant challenge.
Elsa leaned down slowly with the sexiest smirk the Northuldran had ever seen. "A challenge, then, my love," she murmured against her lips, teasingly pulling just beyond Honeymaren's reach when the dark-haired woman tried to lean in for a kiss. "But…" she trailed off with a mischievous twinkle in her eye. "You are going to be wearing that supposedly unbreakable silk Belle gifted us to make things a bit more even," she said with a grin when twilight eyes widened slightly. "What?" Honeymaren nearly whined. "How does me being tied down make things more even?" she pouted. "Because," Elsa whispered huskily in her ear as she began planting slow, teasing kisses along her noaide's throat, smiling in satisfaction when she felt her wife's throat bob as she swallowed in anticipation. "You are going to be wearing our other gift, as well," she purred, pulling back just enough to look into shocked twilight pools. "And I will be too busy moaning your name as I come for you to stop you from escaping," she said with a grin, brushing her lips teasingly against the stunned fire maven's.
"Holy fuck," Honeymaren moaned before immediately flipping the queen over, pressing the gasping blonde into the bed and kissing her fiercely. "Ah-ah-ah, Pyro," Elsa laughed breathlessly as she pulled away from the kiss and grabbed her wife's wandering hands. "We had a deal," she teased, a wide grin tugging lighting up her face when Honeymaren pressed her face against the queen's shoulders and groaned in frustration. "Son of a-...how can you expect me to not ravish you senseless when you say such things, Elsa?!" she bemoaned, forcing herself to release her beautiful bride and stand on wobbly legs next to the bed. Elsa giggled and propped herself up on one elbow, eyeing the wooden box on the nightstand pointedly – there would be no sympathy from the blonde. "So all it takes for Elsa Árnadalr to start taking over the world is a little cognac, hm?" Honeymaren teased, flipping the lid of the box open challengingly when Elsa simply shrugged in response, biting her lip teasingly as she watched her noaide retrieve their wedding present, fiddling with the leather straps experimentally.
At first, both women giggled as Honeymaren fought with the confusing straps, Elsa eventually sitting on the edge of the bed to help the fire maven don their gift. Once it was more properly situated, Elsa grew quiet, her eyes nervously flicking between the toy and her wife - the size was much more intimidating up close. "Hey," Honeymaren's gentle voice pulled her nervous gaze upward to meet reassuring twilight pools as her wife offered her a soft smile. "We really don't have to, Elsa," she reminded her gently as she brushed her fingers through the queen's hair soothingly. "I want to," Elsa insisted, eliciting a soft chuckle from the fire maven before Honeymaren grasped her hand and gently tugged her off of the bed to stand before her, wrapping her arms around her lovingly. "I know," she whispered to the queen, nuzzling her cheek reassuringly. "I just want you to know that you can stop this anytime you want. You can ask me or tell me to do anything you want. I promise, you will have complete control to stop this at any time. Always," she promised, resting her forehead against the blonde's. Elsa nodded in understanding, taking a deep breath to calm her nerves and smiling at her wife before leaning forward to kiss her softly. "I love you, Maren," she whispered against her lips before wrapping her arms around her noaide's neck and kissing her more deeply.
Honeymaren sighed softly and pulled the beautiful spirit closer, allowing the queen to take the lead as she waited for the blonde's anxiousness to ebb away. Warm, sun-kissed hands wandered across flawless, creamy skin, the fire maven's fingers digging possessively into the winter spirit's full hips and pulling them flush against hers. Elsa jumped ever so slightly at the unexpected feel of the rubber toy pressed against her lower belly, eliciting a nervous chuckle from the queen. Twilight eyes looked searchingly into arctic pools, expertly sifting through the emotions she found there in a language Elsa would only ever allow her and her alone to read. There was desire darkening those beautiful eyes, certainly, along with the obvious anxiousness of the unknown and uncertainty of how to begin, but there was another emotion there that her new wife would always struggle to voice, buried deep beneath the surface.
Help me, please…
Honeymaren smiled warmly, burying the fingers of one hand in her angel's waterfall of silken white-gold tresses and pulling her in for a deep, passionate kiss while her other reached down and cupped the queen gently, eliciting a sharp gasp from the blonde. Pale fingers tangled in the dark waterfall of the fire maven's hair as her noaide played her body like a finely tuned instrument, swallowing her every whimper, moan, and cry of pleasure, her confidence beginning to climb with her passion. Finally, Elsa was forced to break the kiss with a sharp gasp of pleasure when long, sure fingers buried themselves deeply within her, instantly curling to massage that delicious spot that always made the queen see stars. Honeymaren wound her arm tightly around the blonde's trim waist to help hold her upright, the winter spirit burying her face in her wife's neck as she set a fast, rough pace. The fire maven groaned as she listened to the queen's panting cries of pleasure, turning her lips to Elsa's ear.
"By the spirits, you are so impossibly beautiful, Elsa," she whispered huskily, slowing her pace before stopping altogether. She smirked at the queen's undignified whine of protest, capturing her lips in a deep kiss to silence any complaints as her hand, now slick with the blonde's need, slowly stroked the toy. Satisfied it would not be uncomfortable, she tilted it downward before slowly pressing her hips forward to slide against the nearly dripping folds of the queen's sex. "Maren!" Elsa gasped, an impossibly bright blush fanning across her face even as her own hips instinctively began to rock in rhythm to the fire maven's, Honeymaren's shallow thrusts slowly rubbing the length of the toy against her sex and collecting the abundant wetness there.
"This is going to feel so good, Elsa," she murmured into the blonde's ear, groaning as each thrust elicited a soft gasp of pleasure from the queen. A quiet whimper had Honeymaren's fingers digging almost involuntarily into the sensitive skin of the winter spirit's hips, forcing her closer as she continued to slowly thrust. The dark-haired woman's movements became smoother and quicker as the toy became coated in the queen's essence and Honeymaren groaned with the effort to not ravish the blonde then and there. "Elsa, you may need that silk sooner than you think," she nearly growled, the not so subtle threat clear in her strained voice.
The obvious need and absolute desire in her wife's voice combined with her own unfinished need brought back the blonde's earlier bravado, a sly and coquettish smile tugging at the queen's lips as she regarded her maven of fire. The queen couldn't explain the odd thrill it gave her to see her calm, reserved, responsible noaide struggle to maintain her self-control. Testing the very limits of her confident, take-charge lover's considerable restraint was quickly becoming the winter spirit's favorite game. "Then, I suggest you lie down, my love," she purred in her ear, placing her hands on her wife's shoulders and playfully pushing her backward to sit on the bed as she grabbed the soft, light blue swathe of silk from the box on the nightstand. She smirked as she examined the clever knots on either end of the silk, crystalline eyes full of mischief looking hungrily at her wife before immediately bending down to kiss her deeply and pressing her back into the mattress.
"Lie back and close your eyes," she murmured against Honeymaren's lips, allowing her own to teasingly trail soft kisses across sun-kissed features. "What?" Honeymaren asked suspiciously, even as she situated herself to lie properly on the bed. "Why do I need to close my eyes?" Elsa grinned, grabbing her noaide's hands and pinning them playfully above her head. "Because I don't want you to see how it works, darling," she answered matter-of-factly, placing slow kisses on each of Honeymaren's eyelids, bidding them to close. "I'm well aware how clever you are, noaide," she whispered huskily as she looped the light-blue silk around a few slats of the sturdy headboard before fastening the knots around her wife's wrists, biting her lip at the beautiful image of the fire maven lying submissively beneath her. "We both know this isn't going to last long," she murmured as she straddled Honeymaren's hips, groaning as she felt the slick length of the toy against her once more. Honeymaren swallowed thickly at the sight when she opened her eyes again, her hands already twitching as they itched to reach out and touch her wife. "Why is that?" she asked with a breathless laugh, trying to feign a confidence in the self-control both spirits knew she was quickly losing.
Elsa flashed Honeymaren the sexiest smile the fire maven had ever seen in her life before leaning down slowly, pressing her lips against the breathless noaide's ear. "Because we both know that it's only a matter of time before one of us can't handle it anymore," she whispered, trailing her lips teasingly down her throat and planting hot, open-mouthed kisses against the sensitive skin, grinning when she felt her wife's throat bob beneath her lips as she swallowed hard. "Only a matter of time before you break through that silk…or I untie you and beg for you to…what was it you said in the carriage on the way here?" Elsa asked teasingly before brushing her lips against Honeymaren's ear again. "Oh yes…fuck me senseless," she whispered huskily before palming both of the fire maven's breasts and squeezing firmly, eliciting a gasp of pleasure from her wife. Elsa grinned as she rolled her hips leisurely over the toy, biting her lip coyly as she teasingly brushed her lips against a stiff nipple. "Is that what you want, Maren?" she asked in an innocent voice, placing a single, slow kiss to the sensitive, aching bud as Honeymaren bit her lip nearly hard enough to draw blood, her chest pushing upward desperately toward the queen. The sound of straining fabric elicited a small, triumphant grin from the blonde as her wife tugged against her bonds already. "I swear to the spirits, Elsa-" she began to threaten before she cut herself off with a sharp cry of pleasure when the queen began to suckle greedily at the sensitive bud, lavishing it with her tongue while her other hand gently rolled and pinched its twin.
Elsa moaned softly when Honeymaren gasped out her name, followed quickly by an involuntary buck of the fire maven's hips that caused the toy to rub deliciously against the queen. "And you say I'm impatient," Elsa teased as her lips switched to her wife's other breast, paying it equal loving and devoted attention as the noaide began to squirm beneath her. Every twitch of her wife's hips was answered by a matching roll of the queen's, the lovers finding a gentle rhythm that sent bolt after bolt of pleasure through her as the toy rubbed against her. Each soft, frustrated moan from the dark-haired woman was punctuated with a sharp tug at the, surprisingly, still intact silk and Elsa couldn't help but be impressed and thrilled with the simple gift. While she was thoroughly enjoying this rare moment of complete control she had over her powerful and possessive maven of fire, she couldn't help but imagine their positions reversed. Though she was still a bit too shy to admit it, the queen absolutely loved when Honeymaren wrested all control from her, pinning her down and making love to her over and over. The opportunity to shut off her brain and completely lose herself in the moment, to be completely helpless and cared for was so unique a feeling for her the anxious blonde couldn't help but crave Honeymaren's gentle yet dominating touch. Imagining what her wife could do when both hands were free…
That thought sent a delicious shiver down the queen's spine, her own patience now quickly running thin as she leaned up and kissed the fire maven hungrily, rolling her hips more forcefully against the length of the toy. Perfect white teeth tugged lightly at the Northuldran's full, kiss-bruised lower lip as she pulled back from the kiss to settle over Honeymaren's hips, one hand trailing slowly between her wife's breasts and down sensitive ribs to a toned stomach before settling just above one of the straps across her lower belly. A pale fingertip dipped below the soft leather, giving it a gentle, almost experimental tug – the contraption fit her wife quite well.
"Elsa…we don't have to. You know that you can still say no."
Crystalline pools flicked to the twilight gaze that watched her carefully, searching for the barest hints of fear or discomfort in the queen. Though they were darkened with arousal, Elsa could see all the love and patience in the world in their beautiful depths and it lit a warmth deep within the spirit of winter. Elsa's hand trailed lower to grasp the toy, slick with her arousal, and lined it up carefully, gasping softly in pleasure when the very tip of it began to enter her, already stretching her tightness. She hoped the fire maven could see the endless love and complete trust in her own eyes as she whispered back to her.
"I know I will never have to with you."
AN:
Guess who's back...back again...
My fantastic fan-artist, that's who! That's right, we've got more beautiful and fantastically detailed fanart!
And now, a requested word from the artist! (complete with links to the art she has made)
"Hello, Smol Lettuce here. I'm the illustrator behind the art cover for this story. Here in fanfiction, I'm known as 44nottellingyou...but to be honest, I lack in the writing department so you won't be seeing any literature from me anytime soon. Anyway, I recently decided to make art accounts to which fanart from this story will be posted there and more. So yeah check that out if you'd like and if you follow that helps too! Also, thank you Volchise for allowing me to contribute to this story it really does mean a lot." (THANK YOU SMOL!)
Deviantart link: smol-lettuce-art
Instagram: smol_lettuce_art
Anyway, good to be back. Hope you enjoyed my first rude cliffhanger type ending! (JLATS made me do it). No worries, details to follow. ^.~
Thank you for those who encourage me with their reviews despite me taking longer to update - hearing how much you guys love this story and what you like about it totally sparks joy and inspires me to force at least a few minutes of writing. (the argument over who gets to bug me with daily countdowns has been entertaining as well, not gonna lie lol)
Until next time, my friends!
-Volchise