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The last of the guests were gone, the chandeliers in the ballroom had been lowered and footmen with long snuffers were hard at work extinguishing candles. Anna’s elbow was wound around Kristoff’s, her other hand clasping his, her hip bumping gently against his leg with every step as he walked her upstairs to her room. In contrast, Elsa’s fingertips were a light touch against his sleeve, her slim form distant, although when Anna glanced around Kristoff’s chest at her she smiled back.
”That,” Anna declared, “was a very good ball.”
"It went well," Elsa said. "I think that the duke is going to support me in the council session tomorrow, and—"
"Elsa, are you ever going to have fun at a party? You weren’t supposed to be on duty!"
"I’m a queen, Anna. I’m always on duty. You know that."
Anna sighed. “I know, and I am too.” She glanced up at Kristoff’s face, a wicked grin at the corner of her mouth as she remembered the respite that they’d taken together, away from the crowd of guests. Just a restful walk in the garden, she’d explained. Elsa had raised an eyebrow, but hadn’t commented. “Well, almost always,” she murmured, and was delighted to see Kristoff blush.
"Well, here we are," he said quickly, stopping in the hallway between their two doors. "I’ll just—say good night."
"Goodnight," Elsa said. "Goodnight, Anna."
"Goodnight," Anna said, wrapping her sister in a warm hug. "Sweet dreams."
Elsa kissed her cheek. “You too.” She turned toward her own room and paused. Kristoff was hovering in the middle of the hallway, looking so large and awkward that Anna wanted to fling her arms around him. It didn’t help that when Elsa touched his arm lightly he blushed and shuffled his feet like a schoolboy. “Kristoff. I’m glad you could join us this evening.”
"Thank you, your—ah, Elsa," he said, returning her small smile with a rueful one. As her door closed he turned to Anna, the blush remaining but the awkward hesitancy in his shoulders turning to assurance as he stepped toward her.
Elsa’s door opened again and Kristoff’s outstretched hand hastily dropped. “Oh, Anna, Mathilde tells me that Heidi has a terrible cold and that Gerda sent her to bed. I’ll send Mathilde to you in a few minutes.”
"Oh, right. Thanks!" Anna didn’t miss the mischief in her sister’s smile as she disappeared into her room again. When Kristoff reached for her she took his hand, but instead of letting him pull her to him, she tugged him after her into her own room.
"Anna, I—oh."
She peaked out at the empty hallway, then pulled the door closed, leaning against it to smile up at him. His answering smile was hesitant, faltering a little whenever his eyes left her face. He rubbed at the back of his neck as he looked around the room. Now that it had him in it, everything from the pink walls to the pleated canopy seemed almost oppressively feminine—she’d never noticed before how frilly everything was. How soft. How very pink. Kristoff’s shoulders hunched a little under his dark blue jacket, as if he was trying to make himself smaller.
"So…this is your room."
"Yes? Of course—Oh." She felt her cheeks heating up as she realized the implication of his presence in this particular room. She hadn’t thought this through. But she wanted…something. She wasn’t sure what, exactly, but she just…she wanted.
"Maybe I should go—"
"No!" Anna found herself stretching out her arms to block the door, and she saw in Kristoff’s face the memory of the last time she’d blocked a door against him, a wince of pained guilt flickering across his features. She stepped forward to wrap her arms around his waist and felt him kiss her hair.
"Sorry," he mumbled. One of his hands stroked delicately up her back, the other resting lightly against the curve of her spine. "I didn’t mean—just—is this allowed?"
"Well…not really," she admitted, leaning her head back to grin at him. "But Elsa practically gave us permission—well, not in so many words, but she gave us at least fifteen minutes before Mathilde comes."
"Mathilde?"
"Elsa’s maid. To help me undress. Which…" She frowned a little. "Which means I have to be dressed when she gets here." She felt his sharp intake of breath and looked up to see him blushing again, but above the reddened cheeks his eyes were hooded and dark. They made her shiver, and that made him step back.
"There isn’t a fire—why isn’t there a fire?"
"Because…Heidi wasn’t here to light it? With the ball I’m sure it’s been chaos downstairs, and Mathilde must not have thought about it. I don’t think Elsa usually has a fire in her room. But it’s still summer, I don’t really need—" She stopped talking as he stripped off his coat, kneeling on the hearth.
"It’s late enough in the season that it gets cold at night, especially with the wind from the sea. You should always have a fire, living in this drafty place." Kristoff paused in the middle of rolling up his sleeve. "I don’t mean that there’s anything wrong with the castle, I mean it’s fine, it’s…it’s nice, and it’s your home, so of course it’s nice, it’s just…big, and there are lots of windows and chimneys, so of course there are drafts, I just…you should have a fire." He finished rolling up the sleeve to his elbow and turned resolutely to the fireplace.
Kristoff’s movements were efficient, practiced, arranging the tender and putting a flame to it, watching as it caught and spread to the logs. His face was focused, but when she sat down beside him in a puff of skirts he looked sideways at her and smiled. Anna reached out to run her hand down his arm, feeling the strength under the fine linen, the warmth. His hand went to her waist to steady her as she leaned into him. She put her palm against his chest, feeling it rise and fall with his breathing. The fingers of her other hand stroked back up his arm to his jaw, his cheek, golden in the firelight.
Anna had spent plenty of time studying Kristoff’s face— the precise shape of his perfect nose, the color of his eyes, the faint, tiny scar just below his ear, she knew them by heart, but she never got tired of looking as his expressions. The last time she’d been so entranced by a man’s face, she hadn’t really thought about its expressions. It had only ever had two—the mask that had reflected her like a mirror, and the hungry, cruel darkness underneath.
With Kristoff it was different. He’d shown her so many expressions since she’d met him—she’d seen how the corners of his lips turned down and his eyes narrowed when he was angry, how his mouth was soft and faintly smiling when he was relaxed. She’d seen him awe-struck, with his jaw lax and his eyes wide. Laughing, his whole face lighting up. And now she’d seen him look at her with naked hunger that made her knees turn to water. Seen his face taut with pleasure, lips parted and eyes tightly closed. Seen him look at her with eyes heavy lidded, dark and intent, lit with a spark of deep, burning warmth.
The way he was looking at her now.
Like a lover. Anna felt herself blush. He lifted a hand to her cheek, his voice rough as he murmured her name, and her fingers twisted in the fabric of his shirt. She wanted.
"Kiss me." It came out as barely more than a hoarse whisper, but when her nose was almost brushing his and his breath was warm on her lips a whisper was more than enough. The hand on her cheek slid into her hair, his other on her back pressing her close as he bent to cross the last fraction of distance between them.
"Princess Anna?"
The knock at the door made Anna start so hard that she nearly jerked out of Kristoff’s arms—would have, if his hands hadn’t tightened on her reflexively, crushing her protectively against his chest.
"Yes?" Her voice sounded strangled even to her own ears, as Anna wondered how to explain what she was doing…what they were doing…or really what they were not actually doing, despite all evidence to the contrary…. But the door only opened the slightest crack, letting Mathilde’s voice in.
"Princess Anna? Her majesty asked me to bring up a tea tray for her. I’m sorry to keep you waiting, your highness, but it won’t take me any time at all to run down and fetch it, and then I’ll be at your service. Would you like me to loosen your corset quickly before I go down?"
"No! No, thank you, Mathilde, I’m fine, I’m not a bit uncomfortable, or tired, I’m not tired at all! I could dance another full set of dances, don’t worry about me. You can take your time, don’t rush on my account!"
"Thank you, your highness, I won’t be a moment. Shall I bring a second pot up for you?"
"That—that would be lovely, Mathilde, thank you. But there’s no hurry!"
"Yes, your highness."
The door clicked shut again, and Anna sagged with relief, stifling nervous giggles against Kristoff’s chest. “That was close,” she said into his shirt. “I should have remembered to lock the door. Can you imagine poor Mathilde’s face if she’d walked in?”
Strong hands curved around her waist, gently moving her away from him, and Anna looked up. His face was closed off, serious, and his eyes were on the door. She caught at his shirt to stop him from pushing her away.
"Kristoff, what’s wrong?"
He blinked, then smiled at her weakly. He lifted a hand to smooth the hair back from her temple, tucking it behind her ear. “Nothing’s wrong, I’m sorry. I just—it’s late. I should go, before she comes back.”
"No, you don’t have to go—Kristoff—"
"Anna, I—" He stopped, frowning anxiously, his hand still cradling her cheek. Anna frowned too, trying to understand how he could be so secure and confident with her in his arms one moment, and so jumpy the next. When they were alone, when all of his focus was on her, his face relaxed. His touch was sure. He didn’t hesitate to hold her, or kiss her. And he didn’t pull away from her. But the moment something distracted him…she chewed on her lip, suddenly nervous. Don’t think like that, she reminded herself. He promised. He’d said it just an hour ago, in the garden—”I won’t leave you, Anna. Never…unless you send me away.” And he knew that she’d never send him away, not ever. Then…oh. There was the other thing he’d said. She hadn’t really thought carefully about it. She’d been caught up in her own anxieties, just as she was now. “I don’t want to reflect badly on you, Anna. I don’t want people to say things about you because of me.” That was it. He didn’t doubt her. He didn’t doubt them. He doubted other people. He didn’t trust other people.
Anna blinked at him, then bit her lip to control the smile that tried to curve her mouth. She combed her fingers into the shaggy ends of his hair, her hands curving around the back of his neck, her arms resting along his shoulders. Kristoff sighed faintly and his head bowed. His eyes closed as Anna leaned up impulsively to kiss his forehead. “You big dummy,” she murmured.
His eyes opened. “Wait, what?”
"You think that I don’t know. That I have no idea about what…what people say, behind my back. Behind our backs. You’re trying to protect me.” She watched his mouth open, then close again. “Dummy,” Anna said, and leaned up to kiss his bewildered mouth. “I know,” she said quietly when she pulled back. “Kristoff, I know. I know what they say about you. About me. About us. And it doesn’t matter.”
He started to shake his head so she held his face in between her hands to stop him. “It doesn’t matter,” she said firmly. “Kristoff, they say those things because they want me for themselves, or their sons. Except they don’t want me, they just want the queen’s sister. They—” she stopped, bit her lip, and swallowed hard. “They’re just like Hans, really. Not all of them, maybe, but…they want power, like he did. But this time I know it. And Elsa knows it, too. She doesn’t want me to make a political match. Besides, she likes you. That’s why she apparently spent all evening scheming up a plan to give us time alone together.”
He grinned weakly. “You mean she decided to trust your judgment?”
Anna shook her head. “Not mine. Definitely not my judgment on fabrics, anyway, you should have heard what she had to say about my first pick for my dress. No, I think…I think she trustsyour judgment.”
"Oh." Kristoff turned stunned eyes toward the door, then back at Anna. "I—why?"
She shrugged. “Because you had the good taste to fall for me?” she suggested, grinning wryly. He looked at her as if he was seriously considering the suggestion, and Anna laughed. “Kiss me, dummy,” she murmured, lifting her other hand to grip his shirtfront as well.
He cupped her face in his hands, his palms warm against her jaw, and brushed her lips with his. Anna made a frustrated sound and tangled one of her hands in his hair, firmly bringing his head down to her. He kissed her harder this time, warm and lingering and ever so slightly demanding. His hands moved to her back, pressing her closer to him, and when she moaned approvingly one hand slid lower, cupping her bottom and lifting her forward so that she straddled his lap. Her skirts were a crushed tangle between them, but Anna didn’t care. The desire that had gone unsatisfied earlier in the garden hadn’t faded away. It had just died down, like the embers of a fire, and under Kristoff’s hands it was kindling quickly into full flame.
Anna whimpered faintly and squirmed against him as he kissed the sensitive skin behind her ear, pressed slow, lingering kisses down her neck, across her shoulder. She stroked her fingers into his hair, combing through it over and over, dragging her nails lightly down the back of his neck, and his grip on her tightened.
"Anna—"
"I love you," she whispered. He kissed her mouth again, his tongue curling against hers hungrily. Strong hands found her breasts and stroked along the edge of her bodice teasingly. Kristoff dipped his head down to nip gently at the soft upper curve of her bosom. The faint scrape of his stubble against her made Anna shiver, despite the heat from the fire and the other heat that was blossoming throughout her body. She wanted, oh she wanted—”Please,” she gasped, and she felt Kristoff’s hand on her leg, finding its way under the tangled mess of skirt and petticoats to caress her thigh, sliding up…
A footstep in the hallway made her jump, jerking back from him and twisting around, prepared to leap to her feet, but a strong arm around her waist pulled her back against him. An impatient sound rumbled in his chest, almost a growl, and an answering shudder ran through Anna’s body. She felt warm breath against her ear, her neck, wind-roughened lips tugging at the sensitive skin, the light nip of teeth. There was a pleading whimper. Anna didn’t realize that the sound was coming from her until she felt him smile against her throat.
"Do you want—?"
His voice was low, a vibration she felt more than heard, and Anna whimpered again, squirming. The arm around her waist tightened, his hand stroking firmly over her stomach, her ribs, palm sliding over her breast in a caress that made her skin tingle even through the layers of stiff, formal fabric. He held her pinned against him, her back pressed hard to his chest, but not hard enough to explain how ragged and shallow her breathing had become. She fumbled for his other arm, tugging at his wrist.
"I—Kristoff, please, I need—”
That hungry growl filled her ears again, his teeth tugging sweetly at her shoulder as she urged his hand back to the rucked up hem of her skirt. Anna felt his hips rock up under her, felt the insistent press of his desire rub against her. Broad fingers stroked the soft silk of her drawers, slid across to thrust between her legs, caressing roughly through the fabric.
She wasn’t expecting it. She wasn’t ready. But her body was so taut with longing, so flushed and sensitive, that all it took was that first touch, callouses catching on the delicate material as his fingertips rubbed against her, and Anna barely got a hand over her mouth in time to muffle her cry. Her other hand gripped the arm that held her against him, feeling the hard muscle and tense sinew that trapped her tightly, even as her hips jerked and her back tried to arch. Her head slammed back against his shoulder, neck arching as her body could not, and she felt his mouth on her throat again, felt his satisfied hum as her vision blurred and a wave of heat rolled through her limbs.
His fingertips kept stroking against her for a moment, teasing delicately at her through the slick silk, until she sagged, limp and sated in his hold. Anna vaguely felt a warm palm shift to smooth over her thigh, and the gentle touch was still enough to make her shudder. He took his hand away and carefully flipped her skirts back down to cover her wantonly sprawled legs. Oh yes, there was the risk of someone coming in…making a tremendous effort, Anna drew her knees together, assuming a slightly more ladylike position. But she couldn’t bring herself to move the rest of her body at all. She felt utterly spent and exhausted, half asleep in the cradle of Kristoff’s arms.
He let her rest against him, the fingers that still cupped her breast stroking idly against the fabric of her bodice. Anna ran a languid hand over his thigh. Even through the layers of skirts and petticoats she could feel the outline of him under her, hard and hot. “Your turn,” she mumbled sleepily.
"Hm?"
"You. Now you’re the one being left unsatisfied. Your turn," she said. She tried to move so that she could get to him but he wrapped his arms around her and kissed her forehead.
"Don’t worry about it. I don’t think there’s time. Better leave this one to me, hm?"
"But…’s not fair. I got two…you only got one…"
"Not true, I…got one. The first time."
"Doesn’t count if you had to do all the work."
He laughed softly and kissed her pouting lips. “Anna…” he murmured. “I like…I like giving pleasure. To you, I mean. Feeling you, it’s…” He paused, searching for a word. “It’s very…satisfying,” he said finally, and blushed.
"But you didn’t…you’re still…"
"It’s okay." He brushed the hair back from her shoulder, then cursed softly.
She blinked up at him vaguely. “What—?”
Kristoff kissed her shoulder lightly. “Sorry,” he mumbled. “Sorry, I didn’t think—I shouldn’t have marked you.”
Anna let her head loll to the side so that she could peer down at her own shoulder. There was a faint bruise forming. He’d bitten her, as she had done to him. His choice of works echoed in her mind. Marked. The thought of having his mark on her, this reminder of his touch, the knowledge that she’d left her own mark on him…it made a rush of deep, primal satisfaction flood her. She twisted around in his arms to smile at him.
"It won’t show, under my regular clothes," she said reassuringly, stroking his cheek. "And I’m always collecting bruises anyway, no one will think about it. And I don’t mind it. I—I like it." She tapped his shoulder lightly. "We match."
Kristoff smiled and cupped the back of her head, leaning in to kiss her tenderly. But before she could properly respond he was on his feet, drawing her with him. At first he was the only thing holding her up as her legs wobbled under her, but Mathilde was bustling in with a tray and didn’t seem to notice. She didn’t look up until she’d deposited the tray on a table, and by then Anna had found her balance and stepped away.
"Oh! I’m so sorry, your highness, Master Bjorgman, I didn’t think—I didn’t realize you still had a guest, your highness, should I go and fetch another cup?"
"No, thank you, Mathilde, I—Master Bjorgman just came in to light the fire for me, and we were just saying goodnight."
The old maid’s eyes ran over the princess, and Anna felt sure that she was cataloguing every reddened kiss mark, every disheveled hair, every suggestive wrinkle, but Mathilde only smiled blandly at her. “Of course, your highness, I’m so sorry, I forgot that you like to have a fire. How kind of Master Bjorgman to tend to you.”
Anna blinked, wondering if she was imagining the implication of that last sentence. Kristoff was blushing again, but there was nothing but plain, uncomplicated pleasantness on Mathilde’s face. “Ah, yes, well. He was just leaving…”
Kristoff took his cue and all but bolted for the door. Anna caught up with him in the doorway. Behind her, Mathilde busied herself with the tea tray, humming tunelessly.
"I—ah—’ Kristoff coughed. "Goodnight, Anna," he said softly. She nodded, then bit her lip, reaching out to touch his chest, trying to find the right words for what she wanted to say.
"Will you think of me?" she asked.
He blinked at her. “What? I—Anna, all the time.”
"No, I mean—" She blushed. "I mean…when you…." Anna let her hand trail down to touch the outside of his hip, then she pulled it away to clasp her hands in front of her. "Do you…Do you think of me, when you…" There was a pause, and then he stepped toward her. A glance showed that Mathilde had her back to them, and then he was cupping her face in one hand and giving her a fierce, scorching kiss that left her sagging against the door frame as her knees weakened.
"All the time, Anna," he murmured.
Her cheeks burned as his dark, hooded eyes ran over her, making her shiver and look down. Kristoff’s warm fingers gently urged her to lift her face again, and he smiled at her, the hot longing she’d seen in his gaze tempered with a soft tenderness. His lips touched her forehead lightly.
"I love you."
Anna pushed off of the doorframe to lean into him, wrapping her arms around his waist. “I love you, too,” she said into his chest. He hugged her close for a moment, then stepped back. His hands trailed down her arms as if reluctant to leave her.
"Goodnight, Anna."
"Goodnight."