You can find more of this on by Subscribe/Star (dot adult slash KajaWilder), it's posted past Ch. 30 there. You can find the same on my new (via Discord per their ToS), under /WildErotica. The DISCORD is at h-t_t-p_s-:_/-/_discord-._g-g_/-N9yDASt6Cw (taking out hyphens and underscores, 'cause FFnet). If you prefer direct links, go to my Discord and follow the 'links in general' section to find the ones you want. All of my fics are well ahead of what I post here, often 10-30 chapters ahead.

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Enjoy!

Chap. 8: Opening Doors

Preparing for a mountain journey in northern Arendelle was never an easy task. Even in early summer, when the worst of the spring thaw had gone by, taking most avalanches with it, a chance storm or landslide caused by over-saturated slopes could ruin the best of plans. That was at the forefront of Dominic's mind as he packed extra clothing, warm clothing, clothes for hot, dry days, and doubled up on the portable medical kit he had requisitioned the previous day. He would already need a pack-horse just for himself, and they would only be gone two weeks. He anticipated wearing clothes more than once. Surely, they could wash them in a cold mountain stream if nothing else.

He had not counted on how bulky just the variety of uniforms and more casual clothing were when taken together. He hadn't even counted his armor and weapons! The glaive, sidearm, and daggers weighed about thirty pounds between them. Shields were largely out of fashion these days with the advent of lighter, springier steel and the propagation of rapiers, but for actual combat use rather than a skirmish, a broadsword was still the ideal weapon. That didn't mean he wanted to carry the extra bulk of a three-foot circle of metal or wood, on top of everything else.

He sighed. This was just... not going to work. Not like this, anyway. He was debating what to leave behind for the fifteenth time when a polite knock on his door distracted him. "Come in," he called.

There was a moment of hesitation before it opened, revealing Sergeant Gemma Windy standing in the doorway. "Sergeant Windy," he greeted with a nod, "Just working on my packing."

The tall woman nodded, glancing coolly around his quarters for a moment, taking both the mess and his personal effects in with a single look. "That's what I'm here for, Sir."

He frowned, "I'm sorry?"

"Lieutenant Polgretta asked me to assist you, Sir. Seemed to think you might need some assistance with preparations. May I come in?"

"Already said you could," Dominic sighed, "just shut the door. Why did she think I needed help?"

The professional demeanor lasted until the door was shut. The moment it was, the other guard whirled fast enough her strawberry-blonde plaits whipped against the door and wall. Her smile showed several white teeth, though it was almost predatory, "Seemed to think a southern boy like yourself wouldn't know how to prepare for the northern mountains properly, Sir."

"Is that so." His voice was flat, and Dominic had to fight to control the grimace that threatened. He didn't quite think he succeeded, judging by the amusement on the junior officer's face.

"It is, Sir," Windy answered cheerfully, "I believe the exact words she used were, 'That idiot either isn't going to prepare anything, because he thinks he can trust the time of year to be warm, or he'll over-pack and never have room for anything he actually needs.' Sir."

Dominic sighed again and ran a hand over his black hair. "I would wonder about your cheek, Sergeant, if I didn't know Lieutenant Polgretta well enough to know that's probably exactly what she said."

Windy chuckled, then dropped into his only guest chair, her lanky body sprawling across what little empty space there was on the floor of his room. One arm draped over the dresser beside her, the other fell onto her lap, "I can see it's the latter, though, for certain."

"Yes, yes, laugh it up," Dominic grumbled good naturedly. He'd always gotten on well with most of the guard, but Windy was a soldier after his own heart. She was extremely professional when the situation required it, whether on duty or off. But when it wasn't necessary, she was as raucous and hell-bent on having fun as any platoon of soldiers on leave... only without the noise. At least she had a good sense of humor, and the skills to back it up if she couldn't diffuse a situation with a joke. "I'll be sure to include your insubordination in my report."

"Of course, Sir," Windy teased again, then pointed vaguely at a pile of clothes, "You have too many."

"I know."

"You should bring no more than two of each."

"I know. That is two of each."

"Then drop everything else. You'll need two undershirts, two long underpants, two shirts. One long sleeved, one short, to go under the uniforms. You can probably get away with two trousers, just wear the long ones... and be prepared to wear them wet on occasion if we have to ford a stream. They'll be swollen this time of year. Bring one short sleeved top, forget the vest. No one will care once we're outside of the city. Two long sleeved, so you can double up if it's cold. Bring your long coat, and a lighter jacket. Bring two bedrolls, so you can double up on those on the cold nights. One casual clothes to sleep in. That'll cut your space in half."

She watched, still looking about the few effects Dominic had on display in his room while he separated out the clothing she had suggested. The moment he stood to put the extras back in his wardrobe and dresser, she moved on, "Take half the armor. The cuirass, pauldrons, and the bracers will be all you'll want to carry. Honestly, hunting leathers will serve you better up there. I'm not taking my armor at all."

"You aren't?"

The soldier shook her head, "No way. It's in the regs, I know, but we aren't at war, and Arendelle is not exactly known for banditry. The most we'll find up there is a couple of wolves and some farmers. Speed, if we have to fight, will be better than a shell of steel. Hell, take sparring leathers. That's plenty of protection, too, and a lot lighter."

"See, this is why Carrie sent you," Dominic chuckled, "You actually know what you're doing."

Windy blushed a little, but didn't respond while Dominic dithered for a moment more, then decided to leave his armor on the stand where it was. He would follow her advice and take training gear alone. The stiffened leather was still sturdy enough to provide fair protection, but much lighter. "What about the medical pack?"

"That, you should keep. I've never taken a double-size myself, but usually when I'm on patrol there's a dedicated medicine or herbalist with us, so my own small pack is plenty. With just us, the Princess, and the maid, I think I'll take a double, too."

Dominic nodded, but the other soldier kept talking as he finished putting away his clothes, "Bring a bow and at least a quiver of arrows."

"I'm not that great a shot, you know. I don't know why we'd need that, anyway."

"Because the range is better than a crossbow, and they're easy to carry, take less maintenance, and because you never know when you might spot dinner. Besides, an arrow to wound a wolf is a lot easier than trying to stab it while it and its friends are bearing down on you in a pack. Often wounding one is enough to drive the whole lot off, if they bother attacking anyway. They shouldn't, this time of year. Game's plentiful."

"Right. Just in case, then."

Windy nodded, "Exactly. That's the one thing I'd suggest in the mountains no matter what. You never know what you'll run into, and having a tool to either hunt or defend yourself at a distance is invaluable."

"That makes sense."

She watched him work for several minutes longer, but didn't have any more criticism or advice to give. Once he had whittled his earlier piles down to about a third of what they had been, he set the packs, one for a himself and a pair of large saddle-bags, beside his door. Then she stood up, "Headed for the training yard?"

"I was, actually," Dominic nodded, "Figured I should get some gear and the bow from the armory while I'm at it."

"Excellent. I'm in need of a spar."

He rolled his eyes, but smiled, "I find myself looking forward to it, Sergeant. I'll see you in a few minutes."

She smiled, and stepped out of his room, taking a left toward her own quarters. He turned right for the courtyards of the castle, and a few minutes later found himself in the familiar training yard for the soldiery and guards. It didn't take long for him to find his customary protection and slip it on, though convincing the curmudgeonly old soldier who maintained the yard and its equipment to let him take it out of the field afterward was a bit harder. Thankfully, pulling rank still held some value, whether the older corporal liked it or not.

When Dominic made his way out onto the field, he found Gemma Windy standing there already, a wood-bladed, fire-hardened practice glaive in her hand. It spun with grace and speed that almost made him envious, so the lieutenant let himself watch the other soldier for a minute or two before he picked up his own long weapon.

They didn't bother speaking. Dominic was good with a polearm too, though Windy was definitely better. He was still proficient enough that he was included in her usual sparring partners, being one of the few good enough to make her work for a win among the entire guard. Instead, the two met each other with a salute, glad the yard was mostly empty. His men and Lt. Polgretta's alternated training days for the first half of the week, while Captain Farthson's smaller squad, more administrative in nature, took the one right after. That was why the yard was otherwise empty, as far as Dominic knew.
He was grateful, since the moment their weapons crashed together with a loud crack, Windy asked, "So, you and the Princess, huh? Naughty!"

Her question caught him off-guard, not that she needed it. A moment later, he was sprawled on his back, her glaive's point at his throat. "Ooh, struck a nerve? I don't usually get that quick a win against you anymore," Windy laughed, then removed her weapon and offered a hand to help him up. Once, months ago, he would have considered attacking while she was off-balance. Windy was a little taller than he was, though, and her reach was commensurately longer. Even if she was leaning over to help him, the resulting tussle had still ended with him on the ground under her, and her empty hand 'holding a knife' in his neck. In hand-to-hand combat, they might be equal in skill, but he never wanted to try and wrestle her again.

Their weapons clashed once more, this time three, four times before another comment jarred him out of focus, "Is Her Highness good in bed?"

He felt his face turn red, heating like the coal braziers residents of the castle had warming their beds on the coldest winter nights. "I wouldn't know," he growled, "as I haven't been in a princesses' bed. Ever."

"Sure," Windy agreed easily, too-casually, then sent him a wink, "Don't worry, the secret's safe with me. And it's not like I care. I mean, you're a decent guy, a good soldier, for a spy-"

"Fuck," he groaned, and doubled his attack efforts, trying to put her on the defensive enough to change the subject. Their practice glaives blurred as they swept around, spinning overhead, to the side, between them, "does everyone think that's what I am?"

"Just the officers," Windy replied, breathing a little harder as she fought to parry or dodge his strikes, but not enough to deter or deflect the line of questioning, "Well, me, Lt. Polgretta, and Captain Farthson. I don't know about your own men, or anyone else. I don't care, so long as you stand by what you told the Captain the other day."

"Well if it helps," Dominic told her between grunts of effort, "I told Her Highness that Arendelle is my home, and she's my Sovereign now. And I'm not going to the Council of Lords."

Windy's leg swept outward, surprising Dominic as he extended himself just a tad too far, and caught the back of his knee. He crumpled, sprawling sideways on the hard, cold earth of the training field's largest sparring ring, a moment before her glaive touched his neck again. "That's three for three, Lieutenant."

"I can count, thank you, Sergeant," Dominic grumbled, and accepted her hand again, "Good move, though. Did I telegraph that much?"

"Not really," she admitted, returning to a ready stance a few seconds before he did, "but you're off-balance, out of sorts. It's easy to tell something's on your mind. I'm not helping. Well... not in the short term, anyway."

His eyes narrowed, "You're prodding on purpose, to throw me off. I get that. But what do you think that'll help in the long run? More rumors spreading around the castle, out into the city, the kingdom? Beyond our borders?"

"No," Windy snorted, "Nothing so grand, Lieutenant. I've no head for politics."

She started moving again, and he blocked just in time. This time, one thing was different. The butt of his weapon carried forward, pushed by her own inertia with his wrists as a fulcrum, and struck Windy in the side. She took it with a grunt, but maintained her feet. "Better, Sir. No, I just know something's bothering you, and I want your head in it for this mission. This is important, and with just two of us..."

"You agree with the Captain? We should take more?"

Clack, clack, whack, but neither stopped. This time, they seemed more even, "Her Majesty's order is clear, just us. I believe we'd be better served with four or six, but you and I together can keep her safe if needed. In addition to the powers she's said to have."

"She does have powers," Dominic hissed, "but best not to mention it."

One of Windy's eyebrows rose, the golden hair shining in the morning sun, "You're the one who confirmed something, Sir. I just mentioned a rumor."

"Smart ass."

"Cocky man," she shot right back. Her leg swept out again, but this time Dominic was ready, and caught her knee with the foot of his boot. He shoved back, his greater mass just able to counter and return the force of her greater leverage. This time, Windy hit the ground on one knee, and his glaive swept in...

Only to be parried at the last second as she threw herself sideways into a roll, knocking his weapon aside and hitting him across the lower back with her haft. He staggered forward, off-balance. By the time Dominic recovered, Windy was on her feet again, grinning madly. Some of her hair was out of place, one plait partially undone. "Victory," he hissed, pointing with the glaive over her shoulder.

Windy's eyes narrowed, "Lies."

"Your hair's coming undone."

"So? Not until you bloody me, Sir, and that's not- going- to- happen!"

He didn't know why her attacks were suddenly so furious, but they were wild, uncontrolled, powerful, and he struggled to keep up, much less stop them. Desperate, he ducked one blow, pushing aside her strike with the butt end of his weapon. It spun in his hands as he stood, aiming for a downward strike into her shoulder, and-

The air left Dominic's lungs in a rush as the pointed end of Windy's glaive stabbed him right in the solar plexus. He staggered back, wheezing, the air knocked completely out of him. "Almost had me, Sir," he heard, a moment before his vision and hearing both started to go fuzzy. Why was the ground tilting?

Why was he fighting his friend...?

Oh. Spar. Sparring, not fighting.

Ow. That was going to sting tomorrow.

Anna could not believe her ears. Could not believe her eyes. But the words that Emma, her friend, the closest thing she had to a peer in the castle despite the difference in their stations, had said mirrored the words on the page almost identically. Furthermore, even though she had rarely seen the handwriting in the last decade, she could not miss it now.

Elsa had written her a note, personally, only a few times since their parents had died. Mostly, they had concerned things she needed Anna to do, as princess, that she could not (or would not, Anna thought darkly, because most would require leaving her rooms) do.

This one seemed similar on the surface, Elsa's elegant, flowing script both precise and beautiful, quite easy to read.

My dearest sister Anna,

I hope this note finds you well. I... Words are hard. I am sorry.

I am sorry, for so much.

You may have heard that I am leaving on the first leg of the customary tour tomorrow. I- I would like to see you. To speak with you. Partially, because I am selfish, and I worry that if something happens I will not have another chance to say certain things. Partially because I know there are questions you have. Things you want to know, and things that you need to know.

So, dear sister, let us talk, at last. I am sorry if this is surprising. If it is painful. It is for me, as well, though not because I do not care, or do not love you. I do, with all that I am, all that I could be. You are my dearest sister, my oldest... are we still friends? We have not spoken in so long, and it is not because of you, but because of me.

Please, come to my chambers at your earliest convenience. Knock. Knock one last time, and know that this time, I will answer. I will invite you inside, as I could not do when our parents died. I could not, Anna. I do not know if I can, now, but I must. As your sister, more than any other way in which we are connected.

And if it is too much, if you cannot bring yourself to accept this for what it is: an offer of reconciliation, of peace, of love; then know that I do love you. I never wanted to shut you out. I did it because I thought it was necessary. I will explain more when I can, though that will not be today. I want to tell you why. I want to tell you everything, but for now, I cannot. Only for now. When I return, perhaps, I will have more answers, and I will be able to tell you what you want to know, what I have yearned for many years to tell you.

Please, Anna, knock one more time.

Your sister,

Elsa

P.S. If you come at night, Lieutenant Dominic will do his best to make sure we are not disturbed.

Anna knew what she was going to do before she finished reading the letter, of course. Her sister was right, even reasonable, to believe that Anna would have given up on her, on them, their relationship. Most people would have, but Anna was not most people. She would see her sister, absolutely. She would probably give her a piece of her mind, possibly a slap to vent her frustrations, but then...

Then she would give Elsa a hug, one hopefully long enough to make up for all the times they could not because of that damned, most-hated door.

She was already walking in the direction of her sister's rooms, Emma trailing nervously behind, when a line on the note made her pause. The last line, in fact. Lieutenant Dominic. Not Lieutenant Alders. Not 'her guard'.

Not only was he seen coming and going from her room a few times a week, but they were on a first-name basis. Of course, he had admitted as much when Anna had asked days ago. But seeing his name there, in Elsa's handwriting, made it real in a way the soldier's words had not. She blinked as a single tear rolled down her face, unnoticed and uncared-for. Her expression remained set.

Her path was still clear.

Yes, she thought the soldier was handsome. Yes, she had kissed him. Her first kiss, in fact. Yes, he had been a gentleman about it, because there was no way, under the eyes of the ancestors, that the castle's gossip-mill would not have run away with it if he or Emma had ever exhaled a single word to the others. There were so many rumors aplenty, but none involving her.

Only him, and Elsa herself.

And Anna knew about those, knew the reason for them. But this...

She blinked again, and started walking once more.

Her heart was pounding, and not from the exercise of her brisk pace, when she stopped in front of the door. That hated obstacle of all her dreams and wishes, the source of all her loneliness, all her fears, doubts, and even self-loathing. After all, why else would Elsa lock herself away, than because her sister was simply not good enough, not strong enough, to help bear the burdens she must now carry?

Of course, Dominic, looking exhausted and with a bruise coloring his left jaw, stood still at his post when she glanced into the alcove. He nodded once in her direction, but did not seem surprised to see her. He risked only another quick look toward Emma, now several yards back since it was hard for her to maintain Anna's pace, then settled back into his relaxed, watchful stance without a word.

Damn him. Damn him for being good at his job, for being so likable despite being quiet, so handsome. Damn him for being Elsa's friend, when she had yearned for friendship just as long. She had Emma, yes, but that was a new friendship, still raw and untainted, unblessed, by time. She could have been Dominic's friend since he had arrived in Arendelle, if he had just let her be. She liked everyone, after all, and as far as Anna herself could tell, everyone liked her.

Everyone except Elsa. But if the letter was true, then...

Her hands trembled, and Anna wrung them together to hide it, the note, that precious, priceless artifact, proof that she had not been cast aside lightly, wrinkled. But she couldn't care.

A hand raise, and she knocked.

Tap, tap, tap tap-tap.

Wait.

Always, the interminable, soul-crushing wait.

Silence.

At least, this time, there was no muffled, "Go away, Anna."

Instead, there was a click-clack, and with wide, blue-green eyes, she watched as the worn, brass handle turned.

She heard and felt the rush of air, the susurrus of wood against thick, warm, fine carpets as the loathed, ornate white barrier moved.

Not just moved, but opened.

It had been two and a half years, but suddenly Elsa was there, just as she imagined. Poised, tall, confident, controlled, beautiful, radiant, the perfect girl, the perfect woman, the perfect princess, heir to Arendelle's throne. Her sister.

Anna did not slap her. She did not scream, or cry, or yell.

Well, she might have had tears running down her face, but she did not cry. She did throw her arms around the taller young woman, forcibly pushing her back inside the heir's rooms, leaving a gasping Emma, red-faced, to shut the door and turn toward the amused guard. "W- Well, you understand, it's been near three years..."

Dominic only smiled and nodded, "I know, Emma. Are you all packed up, ready to go?"

"N- No," the girl squeaked, her face deepening several shades of red, "I forgot!"

As she dashed down the hall at a dead run, Dominic called, "Ask Sergeant Windy for advice, if you need it!"