"How dare she," Anna seethed beneath her breath. Her hands were reddened raw from the vigorous scrubbing of a teapot. Close to ten minutes now; with a ray of the scullery's sunlight and the burning stare of a cook on her shoulders. She looked up, and mumbled an apology.
"Apologies, it-it's the courts, they want me to scrub every bit of her Majesty's utensils," Anna set aside the teapot, "something about poison and all, I do think they're being awfully paranoid-"
He rolled his eyes, scattering a clump of tea leaves within the porcelain chamber. Her hands balled into fists behind her apron as she waited for the tea to brew. Three minutes. Too short for some respite away from the stuffy council chambers. Too long to be stuck with the memory of last night. Churning about her head like a festering sore.
What's the matter with you?
The harsh words speared through her head again. Her panic. Soft words and apologies after.
Don't feel obliged to look away.
Tenderness in her eyes when she had tucked Queen Elsa in bed. The trail of fingers against her wrist. As though a little momentary affection could take the edge away from her temperament. Who does she think she is? The Queen?
Anna gulped at her own realisation.
Who does she think I am? A servant?
She shook her head. Wondering if the flurry of servants around her could hear her thoughts or see the clench in her jaw. Anna's thoughts wandered towards what she'd like to do to Elsa. Shove her against the wall, perhaps. Point a finger in her face and yell at her for acting so high-and-mighty all the time. Kiss the shit out of her lips if she dared to argue back.
No! No! Not kiss! What's this about kissing?
"Tea's all done, girl!" the cook snapped Anna from her daze, "You don't want serve her cold tea, do you?"
She froze for a second. Imaginary words thumped through her brain. How dare you serve me cold tea, are my powers a joke to you? The thought sent a shiver through her spine. How am I to serve a Queen with as many faces as rumours about her? Constantly treading the line between relaxing in her presence and pinpoint, precise deference. Anna poured herself a sample of tea and tasted for poison. The scalding pain scorched down her throat, and as she picked up the serving tray. Pondered if she'd like to force a sample of pain onto the Queen herself.
Oh, that'd be fun. She wondered if Elsa was the type who'd scream in pain. Or merely bite back the agony with defiant silence. Narrowed eyes and clenched jaw hardened with pride as she hit her, over and over again. Before she'd finally break down and beg for respite. Her short-lived fantasies hit an abrupt halt when a steward opened the Council chamber doors and rife arguing struck her in the face.
"...toward this unexpected source of expenditure we know not when will bear fruit, perhaps the Queen can enlighten us-"
"How could you question that fact you sodden bastard, did you not write the recommendation for such a project to be undertaken?"
The flurry of voices scrambled in her head and Anna looked to the only voice absent from the proceedings. The only one which mattered to her. Seated, grim-faced behind a dais. Elsa's eyes lit up the moment she entered.
She's looking at me.
Her heart leapt at the prospect that she was the sole light in Elsa's drudgery of a work day. Still, the heated undercurrent of fear simmered through her posture and she delicately set out Elsa's tea on the dais. Taking care to complete each step with painstaking precision. She'd barely swept the tray beneath her arm before hearing a gentle voice. It somehow reached her ears despite the ruckus of arguing.
"Save me."
Anna turned to see Elsa smiling at her.
"Save me from this meeting."
It took everything to resist a chuckle. Queen Elsa, majestic and terrible - being bored at a meeting. Without thinking, Anna bent close to her ear and blurted out the first thing that came to mind.
"Perhaps you'd like to swap places. Where I'd rule the country and you'd wait on me, hand and foot."
Heat flashed through Anna's face when she realised what treasonous words she'd whispered in the public chambers. But no scowling disapproval came, or harsh words that put her in her place. Only a smile. The Queen's gentle scent of vanilla as she leaned towards her. And the brush of fingertips upon her wrist that set her senses alight.
"Darling Anna," Elsa locked eyes, lips moving slowly - just for her, "that'd be the joy to end all joys."
The momentary glimmer of Anna's presence proved as short-lived as a shooting star. A mere streak in the darkness. Led by Ericsson, the council split along factional lines and voted down her proposed railway extensions. It was short of an outright veto, poorly disguised as a delaying tactic. Meant to give them time to sneak away bits and pieces of the inevitable money pie their European interests would make from this.
It was obvious. Clear as daylight and gleaming bright like her crown beneath the sunlight. Yet, like the pathetic figurehead of her royal symbol, it was utterly useless. They might as well have told her outright and watched her sodden indifferent smirk while they made off with bribe money. Stowed away in Swiss slush funds like the rest of the corrupted nobles. Her patience wore thin when Court adjourned for the day. Eyes weary and shoulders drooped as she sauntered towards her study.
Along the way, she passed a larger-than-life portrait of King Agnarr in the hallway. Regal and poised with Globe and Scepter in hand. I wish you'd be around to tell me what to do. When to strangle and trod underfoot. When to coax and deceive. When to coddle and console. She hurried on from his lofty gaze, worried for the disappointment it bore. Even Gerda could sense the frosty trail that went before her footsteps. The household head curtsied without a greeting.
"Dinner in my study," Elsa requested, "and the correspondence, if you will - I haven't had time to read them today."
The servants had drawn the curtains. Sunset grazed the tight air of her study. A sheaf of freshly printed maps had arrived from the cartographers. Stacked on top of leather bound records she'd requested from the archivist. All this work and they spit in my face.
Endure. She heard her father's voice. Each time she'd struggled with her studies or floundered with an instrument. What good is grace if it cracks beneath a struggle?
So she sat. Toiled over her busywork of planning infrastructure for the lesser-off districts while the daylight breathed its last breaths and servants came to light the lamps. The study faded into a blurry world amidst the pinpoint focus on all she could envision in Arendelle. Only looking up when the slight click of a door reminded her that Gerda had left out the mail.
She flicked through the letters. Mostly courtesies, before pausing at one from the Archdiocese of Arendelle.
The scent of roast beef touched her nostrils. It was Anna, entering the room weighed down by a platter of supper. Her heart warmed at the sight, red plaits arranged into pigtails. Already her memory jogged to that afternoon. Anna's scandalous suggestion. The thought swelled her heart, touched a part of her desires she never knew existed. Waiting on Anna like she were Queen instead of me. Perhaps she'd have to kneel-
Focus!
Her eyes snapped to the thin cursive of Bishop Pius's letter. It was torture forcing her attention from Anna's. But the more she read, the more her heart broiled with torment. Food aid to the North. Well-received in some quarters. The elderly folk send their thanks to the Queen of Arendelle. Regret to inform that some wildfolk have started to burn grain in the streets. Declaring they'd rather starve to death than accept help from the Queen.
Elsa struggled to contain the torment raging within her. She'd gone off the record, taken a political risk to do this. This is how the North treats her?
They hate you.
Her heart froze with ice as she clenched her jaw. To hell with them. She should've razed the entire North to an icy desolation. No, no - another voice tugged at her, you have to show them the breadth of your compassion. Win over their love.
Back and forth, just like the voices in the chamber. Just that these now played in her head.
God, I need a drink.
Absentmindedly, Elsa reached toward a wine glass. Not seeing what lay beneath her fingertips. Not seeing what her powers had done to the glass.
"No!" a shout shot through her ears.
Anna's hand wrenched hers away from the glass at the last moment. Pain bolted up her wrist. She barely registered the shards of glass on the tray, ice-white with frost where she'd inadvertently frozen and shattered it without thinking. Slowly, Anna's face swam into view. Heaving chest. Face drawn white with fright. Her hand shook violently. Fingers still clasped around her own. It hurt. Red-hot blood thumped through her veins, and it quickly spread to her face as she realised how powerless she was beneath Anna's grasp.
The feeling struck her like a sheath of knives. Anna's arm flexed beneath the candlelight. Wiry, muscle-bound limbs strong from years of hard labour. It looked like a mighty oak branch next to her slender, pale arm. Hands which knew only idle luxury: books and drawings and dastardly piano lessons. In that moment, Elsa realised that if it weren't for her powers, Anna could utterly wreck her. Forget the slight height difference, the girl was stronger in every way. She could pin her down and strangle her if she wanted to.
The sheer prospect lit a raging fire in her chest she now had to douse. Forgotten were the diplomatic complaints. The North. Her father's legacy. All that mattered now was this hand bolted tight around her wrist. How helpless she felt.
"Majesty, please, be careful - you nearly cut yourself-" Anna warned.
"Anna, y-you can let go of me now."
Slowly, the girl relaxed her grip. Elsa immediately craved the sensation back. No one had hurt her physically like that. No one had made her feel so utterly powerless.
"I'll clear the shards," Anna offered, already unfurling a tea-towel.
So quickly did the girl return to her old self! Demure, submissive Anna. Servant to the Queen. It was too soon, surely. She wanted the other Anna back. The girl who took matters into her hands. Who put ideas in her head and followed through with them. She could order her to be like that.
But should she?
"Anna, stop-" Elsa ordered.
The girl immediately retreated a step back. Hands folded behind her back.
"It's my fault," Elsa apologised, before her heart thrummed with the desperate need for that feeling again, "w-would you mind waiting outside? Just for a second. And lock the doors behind you."
Her eyes faltered. She looked like she'd just gotten shot. Sheepish with fright, Anna turned and left the study. Stopping at the last second as Elsa called out to her.
"Just to be clear, Anna - you did nothing wrong," Elsa's voice verged on breaking with the blood rushing through her veins, "thank you - for stopping me."
The girl curtsied, "With pleasure, your Majesty."
The deferential gesture boiled Elsa's face even further. Why, why does she do this? Bold one second and meek the next. But before she could stagger herself any further, her maid was gone. Sent away behind double oak doors because she couldn't stand to stand there and stare at her with this raging heat within herself. Immediately, Elsa strode to the doors and stood in the shadow of Anna's warmth. Craving her presence. Longing for the way it made her feel. She pressed a hand on the door, resting her perspiration-slicked forehead on the heel of her wrist. Her other hand trailed listlessly amidst the pleats of her gown. A fire stoked within her belly.
So unladylike, Elsa thought.
But then again, there wasn't anything ladylike about the visions that now assaulted her mind.
Elsa knelt to pick up the hem of her gown.
She wouldn't need Anna's help with this part.
The Queen acted strange the entire week.
Gone were the flirtatious words, those barely-there touches. The blush on her cheeks everytime their fingers grazed. All business. She summoned Anna like clockwork to get ready for work, morning tea, lunch, afternoon tea, dinner and to sleep. Never leaving her side for more than minutes - even while she debated legislation and held meetings.
In front of others, Elsa acted like Anna didn't exist. An invisible shadow who poured her tea, arranged her gown, laid her silverware.
In private, it felt like Elsa's eyes burned holes into her face. Her fastidious service dressing her for court and bed was met with deafening silence and a grimacing stare. It annoyed Anna to no end. After a few days, she gave into the temptation to bait some reaction from the Queen. Willingly putting her head on the line by looking, once again, directly at her naked body before she clothed her with a shift.
Her slim, pale body glowed beneath candlelight.
Anna allowed her eyes indulgence to rove over the fullness of her breasts. The gaze barely made Elsa blush, and when Anna looked up - there was that stare. Searing directly into her eyes.
The silence chilled her spine.
"You may leave," Elsa's voice cut her like a knife, "I'll see myself to bed."
Her heart groaned. She ached so much for Elsa's affectionate words. As the week wore on, Anna felt like a ghost had possessed the Queen. The longer her silence persisted, the more Anna thought she was the cause. The chafing tug of worry finally rent Anna's tongue asunder. Fearful more for the Queen's wellbeing than her own. The next night, Anna finished dressing Elsa for bed and promptly asked her, point-blank.
"Are you alright, m'lady? Your mood has appeared sullen of late."
Anna stepped back. Expecting a flurry of impatient words. Instead, Elsa stared at her and appeared to suck in a deep breath.
"Do I?" Elsa glared.
In any other circumstance, Anna would've cowered back. Apologised. Pleaded for mercy just so she could stick around one more day by this blessed woman's side. But she stood her ground and stared back at Elsa. Imagining herself as unmovable as the oak tree in the Fjord. Immune to any force of fury the Queen could throw at her.
"Yes, you do," Anna answered, lips pursed in a line, "you were much happier a week ago. My presence has appeared to grieve you recently."
"You didn't," Elsa seethed, stepping into the chaste space between them.
Anna didn't back down from this either.
"What is it then?"
Elsa looked away, "The cold perhaps - in my thoughts. In my bones."
"I'd gladly be of service, to help you with any warmth or comfort you desire."
"Do you mean it?" Elsa snapped, "Or is this something you're obliged to say to earn my favour?"
Anna's eyes fell, but her spirit stood firm, "Of course I mean it - I didn't expect you'd take me to be a maid with sweet words and nothing behind them."
"But you'd do what I asked because I am Queen, am I not? Because you'd fear for your life-"
The pieces clicked in Anna's head.
"I'd do it for you," Anna curtsied, "because you are a graceful Queen. It is my honour to serve you - I would choose this job over any other…"
Elsa's eyes lifted.
"...and I would choose you over any other."
Gone was the stare, replaced by soft eyes that teetered upon ambivalence. Hands clasped tight into her nightgown. Anna thought she felt a chill emanate from her body, only to be replaced a second later by warmth.
"You'd truly serve me, not out of fear - but out of your own free will?"
Anna extended her outstretched palms, "Am I not? Now?"
"Even if you had the option to refuse me, without consequence?"
The thought prickled Anna's skin. As though she were held by her neck over a cliff, about to be flung to her death.
"I would refuse if you asked me to do anything against my conscience," Anna answered, "but for what reason? It's been nothing but a pleasure-"
"Would you warm my bed?"
Elsa's request spread a blooming warmth through her face. The colour came quick and visible, even in candlelight. She looked up to see that Elsa's face had coloured just as much, deep crimson that appeared even as she looked down at the carpets. Ashamed of what she'd asked.
"Y-you want me to warm your bed," Anna shivered in her shoes, "w-with coals?"
"With your body."
God, even her fingertips felt like they were on fire.
"I'd love to, your Majesty," Anna pointed at her apron, "but I'm filthy from a day of work-"
Her breath hitched as Elsa moved towards her. She could feel a bead of sweat teetering on her forehead. It threatened to spill with each step Elsa took out of her sight. Before her entire breath vented as her apron came undone. The white fabric pooled around her shoes.
"Enough?" Elsa whispered into her ears, "Or do I have to take off your dress as well?"
Oh, please! Anna's heart screamed. The rapid heave of her chest became increasingly obvious, and she hid it by quickly taking off her shoes. Slipping into the Queen's bed like it were her own.
Elsa was right. The bed was deathly cold like laying in a blanket of fresh snow. Anna looked up from beneath the sheets at Elsa standing inches from her. A palm rested against the sheets, gently pressing her down like she was expunging every trace of her warmth. The thought of her own body being a ragcloth to be wrung out made her chuckle.
"What're you laughing at?" Elsa smiled.
"Nothing," Anna grinned, inhaling sharply and taking in the scent of Elsa's hair on the pillows, "h-have you asked anyone to do this for you?"
"No, just you," Elsa answered, "I would've asked someone to do it for me, but I knew not if they'd be doing it out of obligation, or if they really wanted to. It just seems like such an oddly, personal thing to ask for."
Hurt flickered against Anna's soul. Like she was disposable. The thought melted as Elsa's hands shifted upwards, pressure building upon the thick duvet. She felt it through the layers of fabric. Through her dress. Pressing up against her bosom. The sudden imagination of Elsa caressing her breasts through the blanket nearly made her faint with torment. The bed was now becoming uncomfortably warm. Detectable to Elsa's fingers.
"I think it's warm enough," Anna slipped out from the sheets and held it up for Elsa to clamber in. A gentle smile crossed her face as Anna tucked her in.
"Don't go, please," Elsa caught her hand, "not yet, at least."
Would you like me to warm your behind as well? Anna thought. She blushed again.
"I hope this has made your day a little better," Anna clasped Elsa's hand within her own.
"You have," Elsa whispered, "thank you for indulging me."
"Is this the thing that's been bothering you the whole week?"
Elsa pursed her lips. There appeared a vibrant shimmer in her eyes, and the crease in her lips led Anna to think she was about to burst into tears.
"I had a dream once," Elsa confided with a squeeze of her hand. "Of a Kingdom where people helped and supported each other, not out of fear, but out of love."
"Noble indeed-"
"My wish starts with you, Anna," Elsa locked eyes on her maid, "the one closest to me."
She pondered a curtsy. A bow. A safe option that spoke of deference and humility and all the things she was brought up show. No, Elsa wanted love. She gathered her wits, heart in throat, and leant forward. Leaving a kiss on Elsa's forehead like she'd dreamed for countless nights past.
"I'd love to see your wishes fulfilled, Elsa."