Glaciers filled Anna's dreams, cracking beneath their weights as they sang a mysterious song. A soft voice called her into its depths - snowflakes fluttered around the cavern's entrance. Elsa, her breath left in a swirly fog. She harkened towards the darkness. Fingers trailed against snow-lined walls. All she felt was the fabric of Elsa's gown, her elusive warmth hidden behind. Tantalizingly out-of-reach beyond a miniscule hair's breadth of lace.

Anna clawed at the fabric. Anger seeped into her soul as she recollected the Queen's harsh words. What gives you the right. The bitterly unjustified lashing. Hurt and humiliation. Anna's grip tightened. She bit into the sheets. Hands gripped tighter as she imagined ripping Elsa's gown off and devouring what lay beneath.

Right as Anna fathomed returning the favour to Elsa and thrashing her against a bookshelf, a rooster's shrill call bolted her eyes open. The sheets were damp with sweat. Crumpled pleats scrunched through the fabric from where her fist had wound it up. Worse still, a pool of warmth had settled beneath her navel. Taunting her for the vivid dream she'd just bathed in moments ago.

Anna's face burned red. I should stop sleeping on my front. Her mother used to say it gave little girls nightmares. Was that a nightmare? No, she thought, it was a dream.

A good one.

Time to wake up and face reality. Anna pulled the sleeve of her shift aside and examined her wounds. She'd been birched before, by Agnes's hand. The welts had always taken a week to fade - and yet, here in the dim candlelight. Anna's wounds appeared as mere scratch lines, drawn through each one of her freckles. Magic. She thought about Elsa's invitation, whether the Queen would make good on her promise. Or if she'd already been forgotten. Queen Elsa wore so many faces, Anna pondered.

Which one would I get to see today?

She'd went to bed without supper, too hurt to do much beyond ploughing face-first into the softness. And yet, a mere mouthful of salted herring breakfast later, Anna heard a Stewardboy calling from the Scullery's entrance.

"Maid Anna - the Queen requests your presence."

"So early?"

"Aye - she's dressed and waiting for you."

Bollocks, Anna thought, cramming another mouthful of bread and pickled onion into her gnawing belly. She hurriedly wrapped a pound of chocolate cake into a tea towel and stowed it beneath her apron before rushing upstairs to meet the Queen. Already standing in the Palace's Grand concourse. Dressed in a black-and-white lace gown that clashed utterly with the muted burgundy carpets. In the openness of the lobby, Elsa appeared taller than before, and Anna stood more than an arm's length away. A folded shawl sat in her hands.

"Your Majesty," Anna curtsied, "apologies, I didn't know you'd be up this early-"

Elsa stuck out a hand as she shifted around Anna's back. Inspecting the criss-crossing wounds which had all but healed.

"All better now," Elsa observed, her hand stretched out. Fingers curled in hesitation. Anna gulped as she anticipated the lightest of touches. None came. Just more of that delicate voice in her ears.

"Have you thought about what you wanted to do today?"

She looked up at the Queen, expectation written within those piercing blue eyes. Throughout Anna's life, she'd only known what she had to do. She had to work. She had to submit to authority. She had to be a good Lutheran girl, to keep those devilish thoughts of other girls at bay. She'd never expected someone as high and mighty as Elsa would ask her what she wanted to do. The dark vestiges of Anna's dream reached out from the recesses of her hazy memory and grabbed her. You want to tear off her dress and get on with it, don't you?

"I-I haven't, actually," Anna stammered, "I suppose it's up to your Majesty's pleasure what she wants to do-"

"It's a lovely day," Elsa's voice dropped to a whisper, as if she bore a secret, "I've sent Sir Lars away on trivial errands - perhaps we might find a moment to sneak out of the palace."

Anna's heart swelled. A beaming grin broke on her face before she tempered it back with excuses.

"It's cold out-"

"Take a shawl!"

"Gerda has disallowed me from-"

"I won't tell if you don't," Elsa smiled.

"But what about you?"

"The cold never bothered me," Elsa stepped forward, and draped a shawl around her neck, "see? You're all ready-"

Anna dipped her eyes and noticed the way Elsa's gown pooled around her feet. Straps and buttons lined the sides. It's a riding gown. She'd wanted to go out. Who are you to deny the Queen a morning out in the brisk air? The expectant look in Elsa's eyes turned her hesitation around. Right before Anna stood not someone who hurt her, who broke her spirit, but merely another girl. A woman who needed a friend.

Another thought pricked her with unease. That the Queen had every right to order her company. But yet took pains to ensure her comfort, her compliance. She floated at the prospect that Elsa genuinely desired her by her side, if not for remorse over yesterday's misgivings, but for the genuine affection that now appeared to light up her eyes. It made her float with giddiness.

"Yes, yes!" Anna tried in vain to restrain the enthusiasm in her voice, "I'll follow you outside."

"Great!"

So far, Anna liked this one of Elsa's faces.

Anna lingered in the fragrance of Elsa's shawl for as long as she could. Vanilla. She thought. Reminded of that time she mixed the heady smelling spice into Lady Christensen's pastry cream, pondering how expensive it was to ship all the way from the New World. Now it graced the Queen's shawl. The fragrance of royalty. She followed a few footsteps behind Elsa, holding the train of her gown like she's expected to. At the stable, no stableboy greeted them with the harsh stench of manure. But Elsa mounted Snowmourne without help, saddle already fitted like she'd prepared for this today.

It'd been long since she'd ridden. The only other saddled horse bucked against Anna's weight and drew a chuckle from Elsa. She went beet-red.

"You alright?"

"Woah, these horses are fussy," Anna tugged the reins firmly and followed after Elsa, "suited to knights and aristocrats, perhaps. Probably raised on a diet of Foie gras and Grapes."

"Maybe they are!"

The smile on Elsa's face faded as they approached the gates. A lone guard, no older than herself, stood at post. He promptly blocked the Queen from leaving.

"Your Majesty," he bowed in greeting, "the council hath-"

"Sir Lars isn't available today, I've sent him off to the South to parley with a trade mission," Elsa glowered from her mount. Snowmourne snorted.

"Queen Elsa," the guard's eyes darted left and right, "the instructions were not to allow you leave of the palace unescorted."

"I am escorted," Elsa pointed a thumb at Anna, "you will not deny the Queen and her Maiden a pleasant day in the forest."

"Uh-"

"Do I make myself clear?" Snowmourne trotted a step forth, cowering him backwards.

"Very well then," he relented, before shoving the gate open.

Elsa broke Snowmourne into a gallop immediately past the walls. The sun bore down on Anna's eyes, bright light washed away the residual darkness from her weeks toiling in the palace. She rode hard after Elsa, fleeing the grounds like they were eloping in the dead of the night. It was only after she caught up with her at the foothills, did Anna see the smile plastered on Elsa's face. The beginnings of laughter from her heaving chest. All at once she realised how much of a cage this life was to her.

"Do you always have to talk your way out of the Castle?" Anna asked, trotting alongside her, "because I've never been stopped by guards on my days off. Not once, ever."

Elsa looked away. She dropped her reins for a second to unravel her crown braid over her shoulder. Allowing the sunlight to catch in their golden strands. It was hard not to stare.

"I guess, some liberties are not extended to myself," Elsa sighed, "for the sake of my duty to this Kingdom."

Queendom. Anna thought. You're the Queen, they should bow to you.

She opened her mouth to speak. Before her back tensed at the faintest recollection of Gerda smacking her. There was so much she longed to say. So much she longed to do. With Elsa. To Elsa. But the consequences of straying from her ordained role hovered over her head like a storm cloud. And it bid her mouth shut once again. Despite the tumultuous apprehension swirling around, Anna lifted her eyes to the blue skies and tried to soak in the beauty of a harsh winter passing. Birds fluttered beneath the wispy-cotton clouds and colour was just returning to the trees. But she still found her eyes drawn over and over again to the drape of Elsa's gown over Snowmourne. The firm curve of her body held astride in a riding posture. Like she'd choose this sight over anything nature had to offer.

Elsa flicked her head at Anna. Her heart seized. Can she read my thoughts? Does the Queen's power extend to the realms of one's mind? She searched her brain for the slightest touch of frost - calming when Elsa announced that they've arrived at their destination.

Her breath's stolen when she dismounted. A majestic view of the Fjord right from the hill's crest. Midday sun beating away the frigid breeze. If she squinted enough she could see a crowd of deer traipsing up the slopes. Grazing on grass that'd just started to peek from the melting snows.

Anna's gaze returned to Elsa. Dipping away when the Queen looked right into her eyes.

"This is a lovely spot, your Majesty-"

"You might have to follow me repeatedly until you're sick of it," Elsa giggled, "so don't get used to it, too soon."

I'd follow you to hell as long as you'd let me look into your eyes. Anna thought. She bit her tongue once again.

"Does this place mean something to you?"

"Yes," Elsa looked down at her clasped hands, "I used to picnic here with my father."

Grey melancholy draped the Queen, and Anna immediately regretted her words. She snuck a peek at the Queen. Earlier to prim and regal - now withdrawing into the shell of her memories. Say something. It'd be folly bringing up her father, would it? Perhaps she'd be struck again for speaking out of turn. The bitterness and icy cold ambience Elsa exuded pricked at Anna's feelings - and she dared step closer.

"H-he was very brave," Anna lowered her voice, "King Agnarr, that is. His death has only shown us how strong your house is. A strength you undoubtedly will carry on."

Elsa shot towards Anna. She stepped back, expecting the Queen to spew "What gives you the right to talk about my father-" and screaming as she's hauled off to the dungeons.

"You are very kind, Anna."

Phew.

"I do regret that I mightn't be as good as company as he was, though. I can only wait upon thee and follow behind your presence."

Elsa laughed. A clear throated chuckle that lit Anna's spirits the same way the sun lit the noon skies. It filled her with warmth, and a hope that things would be alright between them. She dusted off some leaves from a boulder, and arranged Elsa's gown as they sat in the sun's glow.

"I couldn't have asked for more," Elsa smiled, "though I fear it's too late for us to ride back for breakfast."

A sudden thought dawned upon Anna. She felt around the folds of her skirts for that lump of cake. Pausing in hesitation as she held it beneath the Queen's expectant eyes.

"Actually - about that, your servant might have committed a treasonous offence and stolen food from the scullery," Anna unwrapped the tea towel, "I-I would share it with you, though, it's not what you'd normally eat. This is servant's food."

"Heavens," Elsa gushed, "Is that chocolate?"

"Yes," Anna broke it in two, and offered half to Elsa. The Queen's eyes lifted with joy as she munched on cake, but Anna continued fussing over the crumbs that fell upon her gown.

"Please, Anna," Elsa urged her, "I'm a grown woman - I can fuss over myself. You have to eat your breakfast, I must've hauled you off dreadfully early."

"Not as early as I'd normally get up," she answered, taking a chomp on the cake. Out of habit, she went straight for another bite before swallowing. Until the realisation sank in that she's eating with the Queen. No need to hurry and stuff her face in expectation of the next chore waiting. Here were birds, the sky, Elsa's gentle presence and the undulating hope that the Queen was starting to like her. Her heart rose with the thought, soaring even higher as Elsa looked upon her with a gaze she could only put down as affection.

"Y-you've got chocolate on your mouth," Elsa whispered. She took off a glove. Anna's throat knotted. Before the reigning Queen of Arendelle leant closer and wiped a warm thumb against her chin. Heat shot through her face, the very visible blush tugging a smile on Elsa's lips.

She nearly fainted at the slightest touch.

How was she going to serve Elsa, if this little gesture was all it took to unravel her?

Anna's chest contracted. She pulled herself together, looking up into Elsa's eyes, bright blue and filled with warmth.

"Who's fussing over who now?"

Pale rays of sunlight needled through the chapel's stained-glass windows. Queen Elsa lifted her eyes to the artwork refracted in shades of violet, azure, lavender. The glass depicted gleaming whites of sword-ranks holding the Northmen at bay. The lush green brocade of Agnarr's cape. Yellow-stained crowns for the line of Kings of ages past. No women. No space for Queen Elsa and her Ice-hand. She looked down at the train of her gown dragging the Chapel's faded carpets. Remnants of Agnarr's legacy still weighed on her head like that day she last walked this aisle. Arendelle's crown had laid before her eyes and the tears from her father's death still damp behind.

Today though, there was only the Bishop. Scrawling in his hymnal before he casted a side-eye at the Queen.

"Forgive me, holiness- I know I'm late," Elsa looked around the emptiness, "I was, um, enjoying a day out in the sun."

"At least you told the truth."

Elsa rose from her half-hearted bow, eyebrows arched, "You know?"

"Of course I know, it is my duty to know," he rested a palm on her shoulder, "it is my duty to know you bluffed your way through the gates unescorted, only your attendant in tow."

A chill spread up Elsa's spine. Not her powers for sure. It's nothing. Bishop Pius stared directly at her. It's nothing, she reassured herself. There's nothing wrong with heading out into the woods for some private time with Anna. Yet why did it feel like such a forbidden secret? Why did it feel like she didn't deserve the company of her maid?

"I'm, I'm sorry," Elsa apologised. Before wishing she could take it back. Why should she be sorry?

"Your safety is the concern of us all," Pius made the sign of the cross, "the divine protection of the Lord falls under my-"

"Duty noted," Elsa cut him off, "your protection extends to the knowledge of those who may harm me, and Sir Lars's protection upon my body."

"A segregation of responsibility, I see. You are wise beyond your years, Agnarr has taught you well-"

"To-"

"To not vest power in one person, one office, one entity. Lest that one thing devour you whole."

Elsa caught herself immediately thinking of Anna. The wholeness of her face. The brightness of her eyes. Just as the thought began to consume her, she pushed it aside.

"I fear Agnarr's counsel has been cut woefully short by his death," Elsa lamented, "as much as your Holiness has helped, everyday I wished he could be here to guide me."

"The council-"

"-are a bunch of hawks."

"I was getting there," Pius produced an envelope from his cassock, "they claim to have the needs of the Kingdom at heart. But some, given to the ways of their passions, or their folly of their egos - may have forsaken the very core tenets your father stood for. Humility. Grace. Humanity."

Elsa scoffed, "I recall you exposing Marian and Emile's plots - which got them executed."

"Would you rather Tønsberg rule by regent instead? Or God forbid, Ericsson. They'd execute every other man in the North and enslave their women and children."

Despair brimmed within Elsa yet again. A means to an end - they saw her. And the man who placed a crown on her head was no different. But at least she could be upfront with him, since he had nothing to lose.

"Is that what you see me as?" Elsa glared, "that I'm Queen because I'm the best choice amongst lesser men?"

"You are Queen because you were meant to be Queen. This is the divine right," Pius placed the letter in her hand, "That God may act His will through your hands. Blessed with winter's frost."

"A curse, more like."

She read the letter with a breaking gaze. Tendrils of fog flowed from her fingers even as she resisted freezing it solid. The Church from the North had urgently pleaded for food aid. Their crops had failed from Elsa's winter warpath she wrought breaking their rebellion. Half the farmer men had been pressed into Sir Adrian's militia, and nearly all had perished beneath her frost. They'd been broken. Brutally and utterly ruined like so many times in the past due to separatist ambition. And now they turned to their oppressors for relief.

"You know the council would have harsh words for you if they caught you with this letter," Elsa turned to him, "and more than that, they'd have my head on a platter if I lifted a finger to help them."

"The council doesn't have to know a thing about it, you can act through the church. The diocese has more than enough resources to transport some paltry food aid to the North."

Elsa faltered. She cast the letter to the pulpit. Hands trembled with ambivalence as she thought of the consequences. You're merely keeping another generation alive to kill you, she could already hear the council baying for her blood. Perhaps this would give Ericsson the rage to stab her to death himself. Or Tønsberg would force a coup against her. Her thoughts turned to the women and children that slowly withered away in the bitter cold she wrought. She wished she could be parted from this responsibility, to be in the shade again with Anna - eating chocolate cake and pretending they were girls without a care in the world.

Some liberties are not extended to myself.

What would father do? Or rather, what would he have you do?

He'd have you be Queen. To rule in his stead. She balled her gloved fists.

"Fine," Elsa straightened, "I trust the church will exercise discretion. Use the returning lumber wagons. Only enough grain until the weather clears up North. I don't want to hear a squeak about this in the meetings."

"You have my word, your Majesty."

"I don't mean to offend your Grace, but it is apparent that words are scarcely enough these days."

"Your heavenly reward awaits you - I'm sure this will suffice more than words can."

The Bishop bowed and departed. Leaving Elsa alone in the chapel. She stared at the stained glass images of her father watching from the heavens. Wondering if he'd be proud of her in this moment, or if he'd be cursing her from the grave.

Elsa's still musing over a map of Arendellian roads long after dusk fell. I should improve the road network. Lay another rail line. Steel ones that could last all winter without buckling. All the new inventions the world offered that her father went without and yet still he did twice the job that she could. She hadn't even noticed that servants had come and gone to light candles in her chambers. Only stirring from her journal when a familiar scent touched the tip of her nose.

The sudden realisation someone stood in the doorway sent her whirling around. Her hands froze, before relaxing when she saw that new maid, Anna. Red hair peeked from beneath a shadowy wedge. The girl appeared to slink away from her intense glare.

"Apologies, Majesty," she clutched the Queen's pile of nightclothes to herself, "I knocked but there was no answer, so I thought-"

"No, no, it's alright," Elsa shut away her notes, "I-I was engrossed in work."

A sense of trepidation crept into Elsa as she beckoned Anna closer. It took root in her mind - sinking deeper when she realised she was still wearing her riding gown from earlier. And Anna was here to dress her for bed. It's nothing. You've been dressed for bed by nearly a dozen maids in the past.

Yet why did her chest clench so? Why did her breath hitch as the girl unfastened each lace along her corset's back?

Worse still, why did the girl's fingers appear to tremble as they trailed along her shoulders?

Why on earth are you thinking such things? She's a maid, Christ.

"It's late, y-you work so hard for the Kingdom," Anna whispered, "I hope you aren't catching up with your duties because of our little picnic today."

Elsa's mind wandered to that moment they shared. It was bliss. A mere hour in the sun. Anna's unassuming company. Pretending she wasn't Queen and eating chocolate cake from the tea towels like one of the servants. A part of her still held away the pleasure from its recollection; that Anna manufactured the moment because she knew it was exactly what she wanted. The thought rankled her.

Right as she snapped out of her daze, Elsa felt the cold drape of a shift sliding from her shoulders. Her eyes rose to Anna's. Warm gaze levelled at her naked form. Immediately, she blushed at the maiden looking directly at her. Slight part in the girl's lips. An imperceptible step backwards, as if she were surveying a painting. Beneath the candlelight, she could discern the colour in her cheeks. It was in that moment, Anna's keen gaze dragged on for a second too long. Rage boiled within Elsa that she was being gawked at like an exotic animal.

"What's the matter with you?" Elsa snapped.

Anna shuddered and stumbled. Her eyes dropped, and so did the nightgown in her hands. A startled gasp escaped her and she frantically gathered the bloom of white fabric as she knelt.

"I'm sorry, your Majesty," Anna apologised, over and over again.

"Am I a novelty, that you'd stare at me like one?" Elsa shot at her, "Or do you stare at all the ladies you dress like you've never seen one before?"

"No, no, I swear on my life, M'lady, I don't," Anna stood upright, eyes averted from her nakedness, "only you."

"I am a novelty then!" Elsa's voice broke with rage. She stepped forward and cowered the girl. "You find me funny? Do I make you laugh?"

Anna was shaking now. Her skin had drained sleet-white with fright, but still Elsa hounded after her. Palms outstretched.

"Go on then! Stare all you want, since it pleases you so. Why aren't you laughing now? Do you not find me a novelty that you'd look at me so?"

"No, please, ma'am, I don't-"

"What then?" Elsa spat at her.

"Beautiful," Anna whispered the words. Nearly inaudible to the thumping heartbeat in her chest.

Elsa froze, "What did you say?"

"I-I said you were beautiful, ma'am," Anna hesitated, as though the next words were to be her last, "I lost control of my senses as I undressed you, and for a moment I forgot you were Queen. It was not my intention to offend you with my gaze."

Warmth bloomed through Elsa's chest. She had no reason to lie. The words sounded sheepish, withdrawn almost. Like a truth embedded in a kernel that took all the world's effort to pry out. Quite unlike the shallow flatteries Emile lavished during her short-lived service. She simmered down. Stretched out her arms for Anna to clothe her in a nightgown. Hands clattered against her skin.

"You didn't," Elsa whispered. Alarm crept into Elsa's skin that she'd ruined this girl. Again. Wrecked whatever chance of normalcy she could have with a servant. The closest girl she could have as a friend in her trying position. Her mind frazzled with all the ways she could fix this. Before realising that she'd done this once too many times and there was no going back.

"I'm sorry," Elsa stepped closer, nearly sighing in relief when the girl didn't flinch, "I-I shouldn't have went off at you like that - it's just that no one's ever stared at me so obviously before."

Anna looked away, before she dared lift her eyes to meet the Queen's.

"Is it bad? I don't know if I should be saying this," Anna whispered, her breath dancing against Elsa's cheek, "b-but I genuinely couldn't help myself. And I don't know how the others could either. You're beautiful - but I believe you know that already."

The words fluttered through her heart like her drumbeat pulse. There was utter sincerity with the way she spoke them. Unrehearsed as though they sprouted straight from her soul without forethought. The thought that she appeared beautiful before a Maiden who was already gifted with an unrefined beauty herself - coloured her cheeks even further. Though her countenance faltered when Anna's eyes drifted downwards. Weighed down by fear, perhaps. Correct this.

"I don't know, so you have to tell me," Elsa tipped the girl's chin upwards, "And next time, please don't feel obliged to look away."