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"... and I thank the Kingdom of Corona for the latest shipment, period. The Cresting arrived safely in the harbors of our capital, comma, and the goods within her holds found fast owners in the market, comma, as always, period."
The scratching of quill against parchment was the only sound in the room for a moment, and Elsa left it that way as she leaned back in the padded chair behind her massive desk. She'd soon after the death of her parents found that if she wished to perform all the tasks laid on her shoulders, there was little time for writing missives of her own anymore; she almost always had to do at least two things at once, just to keep up.
Currently she was dictating to her notary as well as reading a set of documents on another matter entirely, while other corners of her mind were preoccupied with reminders, points she wanted to make in future meetings, and bringing the drawing of a proposed renovation in the little used Eastern wing of the castle up in her mind's eye.
Acquired attention deficiency, she vaguely remembered her father calling it, and set a small dot of black-blue ink next to a paragraph she needed to make particular note of.
"New line, indent," she then spoke up once more, and heard the faint rustle of the scribe shifting the parchment. "On behalf of Arendelle, comma, I send the Cresting to its home port, semicolon, its holds filled with both the items upon which we have previously agreed, comma, as well as a collection of luxury items for your citizens to enjoy, period. My nation and I look forward to seeing your flags breaking our horizon once more, period. New line, indent: May the winds blow ever in your favor, period."
More scratching, and then the sound of fabric against wood as her notary - a dark, slender man roughly ten years her senior - straightened. "Will that be all for today, Your Majesty?"
Allowing the short distraction, Elsa lifted her eyes to meet his, and let a brief smile touch her lips. "Yes; thank you, Anton. I'll send for you if anything else comes up."
"My Queen." The man stood and deposited the finished missives on her desk so she could sign them herself; then bowed deeply, and closed the door behind him as he left.
With scarcely any sound in the office at all, the minutes ticked by. Five, then ten, then thirty, longer and longer until Elsa finally shifted the last sheet of parchment from the left side of her desk to her right.
Done. She settled her elbows on the smooth desktop and rested her chin on her folded hands as she peered out of the large window to her left. For now, at least. Outside, she could see the top of the fading, summer sun just barely kissing the mountaintops, and she groaned softly as the view - combined with the growing darkness in the room - told her just how late it was.
Because it was easier than rummaging for a match, Elsa raised one hand and allowed her power to flare just enough to light it with a soft, blue glow that slowly extended and swept back the shadows. It was a recent little trick of hers; learned purely by chance when her temper had flared what seemed like half a lifetime ago, but was in fact just over a month. After Anna had left the castle atop North Mountain, Elsa had hated herself and her powers more than ever.
She had almost destroyed the structure in the process of venting her anger; firing magic from her palms and fingertips, aiming at anything and everything in a vain hope that if she just shot out enough of it, it would be gone. It had left her drained and barely able to move on the floor in the hall, her hands gently pulsing with light as she struggled to breathe. Now she was doing it on purpose; keeping one hand lit while the other sorted the finished papers into piles.
Just as she finished, there was the soft sound of the door handle being pushed, and Elsa watched as a well-polished, black boot was the first thing to enter the room, followed by a shin sheltered behind a deep green, linen skirt. A knee was next; knocking against the door to push it open a little further, though the heavy wood didn't shy away fully until it was bumped by a hip.
Then Anna was there, her features halfway hidden in the low light but growing steadily clearer as she approached, and set a covered tray on the desk with little fanfare.
"You didn't come downstairs for dinner," her sister reminded her; head ducking as she leaned on the wood and removed the metal, dome-shaped lid. "I would've brought this to you earlier, but..." She trailed off, and her mouth quirked into a half-grin when she raised her eyes again. "I kinda got distracted, too. I guess we're related, huh?"
"Definitively," Elsa agreed, and allowed her lips to curve into a smile before her gaze feel on the admittedly delectable-looking, gently steaming meal waiting on the table. Now that food was in the immediate vicinity, she was positively ravenous in the blink of an eye, and after she'd doused the glow, she set to drumming her fingers on the stained wood as her sense of propriety warred with her appetite.
There was a huff of expelled air, and she raised her eyes to find Anna perched on the edge of her desk, arms folded and a very cross expression on her usually amiable face.
"Would you eat, Elsa?"
"Alright - alright." She obediently closed her fingers around the utensils, cut free a section of meat, then kept her gaze on her sister as she chewed, and raised her eyebrows inquiringly.
"Hrmph." With a nod, Anna hopped off the desk, and Elsa did her level best to not flinch at the screech of wood against stone when her younger sister dragged a second chair over and seated herself in that instead.
She did, however, clamp her teeth at the sensation of a head coming to rest on her shoulder, and in doing so, she managed to bite the center of a stir-fried pea pod so hard that one of the peas shot out of it, and hit a nearby vase with a soft, reverberating ding.
"Nice shot," Anna complimented.
"... thank you." Elsa cleared her throat, and decided to ignore both the heat in her cheeks, and the low chuckle coming from her right.
"You'd think I wasn't capable of doing anything for myself," Anna spoke up when Elsa had somehow managed to ingest more than half of her meal. To her, there was apparently nothing even slightly disconcerting about the two of them sitting so close that the scent of Anna's skin and hair was effectively driving her older sister to distraction. "I had to spend almost half an hour arguing with the kitchen staff before they'd let me take dinner up to you."
"You're beyond capable of many things, Anna," she replied, and willed the other thoughts from her head. At least the previous evening wasn't the subject of this talk. "But they were hired to make sure that you - we - would have to worry as little about daily tasks as possible."
"Mm." Anna nodded, which made soft strands of hair rub back and forth over Elsa's partially exposed shoulder, and the queen had to quickly suppress a shudder. "I know, but it's still a nice break from everything else, right?" Her head moved again, and when their eyes met, Elsa almost forgot to breathe. "I don't mind worrying about the small stuff, and I definitely don't mind worrying about you."
"I don't mind worrying about you either, Anna," she managed to reply, because she had to speak to keep from using her lips to do something far more idiotic. "You really don't have to, though."
"Oh, right." Anna rolled her eyes. "This from the woman who just missed dinner by a five-hour margin." She straightened in her seat, and gestured towards her sister with one open hand as she looked into the empty room; as if speaking to a invisible audience. "I ask you."
Shaking her head slowly, Elsa focused her attention on the remainder of the dinner in question; only smiling a fraction when Anna flopped back into her chair with a grunt. The smile fell, however, and she instead had to struggle too keep her expression neutral when she felt a steady gaze come to rest there, and stay.
Separation or not, the queen knew her sister well. And that long of a look - particularly in silence - meant that Anna was thinking.
God, don't let her ask about last night, she pleaded mentally, and chewed a slice of vegetable. Don't ask about it, don't ask don't ask...
"So you're a nightlight now?" was what Anna eventually said, and Elsa's fork clattered against the plate as she jerked her head around in surprise.
"Excuse me?"
Anna grinned; neat teeth glinting in the half-darkness. "Hey, I had a candle in my room when I was little. Kinda gave off the same amount of light your hand did when it was all glowy earlier."
"Glowy." She eyed her sister dubiously. "Is that even a word?"
"If not, it is now." Anna shrugged her shoulders and was apparently unconcerned. "I can issue a royal decree, if you like."
"No," Elsa swallowed a smile and shook her head. "That won't be necessary; I trust your wisdom, Your Highness."
"Smart choice." Her younger sister winked at her, then shifted until she was using one armrest as a backrest, and had her legs hanging over the other so she could watch her without having to turn her head. "Do it again?"
"The 'glowy stuff'?" the queen smirked.
"Yeees," Anna drawled, and narrowed her eyes at her. "The 'glowy stuff'. And don't be such a smart-aleck."
"Occupational hazard, I fear."
"Of what occupation? Being the queen?"
"Being your sister."
"There you go again."
This was good, Elsa decided privately as she watched the younger woman return to her previous, indignant conversation with the non-existent audience. Bantering with Anna was good, and newly familiar, and most of all safe. Banter didn't make her think of the twinkle in those eyes, or how soft those lips looked, or how the gently tanned skin would feel under her fingers.
Or of how Anna's voice might just break ever so deliciously when- Stop it!
"Come on, Elsa." The voice drew her from her thoughts, and she realized that her hands were clenched around the chair's armrests. "Do the magic."
"Anna, really..." She closed her eyes to gather herself. "I don't think-"
"Please?" Elsa could scarcely believe that her little sister actually had the audacity to bat her eyes at her, but of course, this was Anna. Forward, cheerful, unapologetic Anna who adored life and all its pleasures, and who was quite possibly the loveliest thing that Elsa had ever set eyes on.
If only she didn't want to kiss her all the time.
"Alright." Elsa gave in and gave up, and leaned back in her seat as she raised one hand to let the soft, blue light flare once more. Anna, she noted from the corner of her eye, immediately looked absolutely fascinated, and much to her older sister's both contrition and joy, then untangled herself from her chair and moved closer.
"Make something?" she then requested softly, and Elsa felt her heart pound in her chest because she was so close and oh God, she could count her eyelashes from here.
Still, she nodded and tore her eyes away from Anna's face as she focused. Slowly, a floating, ever-denser collection of ice crystals began to form over her palm, and with the faintest twitch of one finger, she made the chunk spin rapidly. Then - much like a furniture-maker would do on his turning lathe - she touched the index finger of her free hand to the ice, and carefully let it shave off the excess until there was a perfectly spherical ball of clear, blue ice revolving in the air over her hand.
"What should I make?" she asked Anna, but didn't turn her head because she could feel warm breath on her cheek and knew that if she did, she'd probably end up claiming her lips. "A snowflake?"
Her sister's giggle brushed over her ear, and she fought down the urge to shiver at the sensation. "How about a star?"
"If you want." Slowly, she maneuvered the ball until it was floating between both of her palms a bare hand's length in front of her own eyes. The fingers of her left hand curled as if to hold the orb in place, and with her right hand, she made a swift, almost chopping motion that left a bare half-inch of that side attached. The thick slice she'd removed clattered to the floor, and vanished in a flutter of white at the flick of her wrist.
Anna, she knew, was watching intently as she repeated the process for the other side of the sphere, and when she moved her fingertips to the center of the disc that now remained and let the star's five points take form as she extended them, two warm arms loosely encircled her shoulders and almost made the entire project disintegrate. Somehow - even with Anna's every breath tickling her cheek - she managed to perform the same action on the reverse side of the disc; taking care to let these five points mirror the first ones exactly.
As the last step, she lifted the crystal-clear shape to her lips and blew; a gentle exhale sending a shower of snow into the air that both hollowed out the star and attached to its exterior in a smattering of white that made it sparkle in the low lighting.
Then the touch of a single fingertip to the finished product combined with a thought, and she let her powers fade. The star dropped onto its side in her palm, and she moved her arm to hold it out to Anna.
"Really?" The word was whisper-soft and so close that she felt Anna's lips brush against her cheek, and since she didn't trust herself to speak at the moment, Elsa simply nodded instead.
"It won't melt," she told her a few seconds later; when her sister had taken the gift and moved into the faint stripe of what was now moonlight to study it. "Even if you hang it over a fire."
Anna turned to her then; a warm, open smile curving her lips, and before Elsa could blink, she was hugged again. From the front this time, she noted, and carefully returned the embrace with a gentle squeeze; her chin resting on Anna's shoulder instead of her face pressing into her sister's neck and just-
"Thank you, Elsa!" Anna almost gushed, pulling back and straightening with a smile so happy that it made Elsa's heart clench. "Hey; I'll hang it on the Christmas tree next year!"
"You can do whatever you want with it, Anna," she told her, and found a smile that was genuine even as her body squawked at the lack of contact. "It's yours."
Then there was soft, sweet-smelling hair in front of her face and scorching lips pressed firmly against her cheek, and she swore she felt her heart just stop for a timeless moment until her sister moved away and then vanished from the room with a cheerful goodnight and a "See you at breakfast!"
As the door clicked shut, Elsa slumped back into her chair and let a slow, stuttering exhale leave her lungs as she stared unseeingly up at the dark ceiling.
God, give me strength.
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