I was given a Nightmares prompt on tumblr and this two-shot was spawned. The jist is that Elsa has nightmares after the events of Frozen, and of course Anna wants to help. The prompt allowed me to explore what may have been going through Elsa's head during the scene out on the fjord (Anna's sacrifice). The first take is canon-compliant, more or less. This second installment is distinctly incest-flavored. Enjoy the Elsanna or go away. I don't care which.
What Warmth Feels Like (Nightmare Prompt)
The world is cold, but the winds have calmed. The snow glares white, but not angrily so. I shiver, feeling a warm hand against my back. I cannot bring myself to look at her. The fjord is still frozen, but in the distance open water twinkles under the pale sun. It should be better, like this, but I know it is a lie. My dreamscape has adjusted to Anna's presence in my bed, but a nightmare is still a realm of fear and pain.
I know I am dreaming, fighting to stay still in my sleep, conscious even now of not waking her. She must not know. I thought at first that it was a boon to know that this all was but a memory, a retelling of true events embellished by my darkest desires. I thought, when Anna first came to me, gently running warm fingertips under my tired eyes, that having her close by would quell this final storm. I was wrong. In my heart, I knew it would not be enough. I cannot burden her and I am not strong enough, alone, to banish the picture of her death. Having her sleep innocently under the same sheets brings me no closer to freedom.
Hans is no longer important. The storm comes and goes. I am cold, yes, but it is the burning warmth of her body against mine that punishes me now. She is fire. Anna is the sun. Her freckles scald my lips as I taste her skin. Every moment, stolen in dreams, only ushers along the death of my last shred of happiness. In reality, she remains pure. I ensure it, keeping Kristoff at a distance for now, and keeping my perversion to myself. She must never know.
The wind picks up now, stealing away the sound of my name on her pink lips. I am not allowed that pleasure, that intimacy. Only the churning, carnal, climbing heat of taking Anna on the ice. It is animalistic, the way I grip her and bruise her with my teeth, the way I shudder as her eyes darken with lust. I corrupt her, night after night, in my dreams. I dream of fucking her until she screams for release. Until she is spent. Until she tires of me.
All those years of isolation, with Anna as my only light, have damaged me. I know it is wrong. I will never tell her. I do not deserve her. I never have. It begins to sleet and hail. Anna shivers, in my dreams, exhausted from our disgraceful activities. She is naked to the world. Her eyes bore into me as the wind howls, but after so many nights I can read her swollen lips. I know that she is asking for shelter. She wants me to come closer again, as I crawl away across the ice. She wants me to stop the storm. Anna believes in me even as I am killing her.
I do not deserve the warmth of her love, but she is stubborn, and I curl up, wrapping my shaking arms around my knees. I watch as she stumbles blindly through the snow.
The sun dies and the world plunges back into freezing cold. I am alone again, with the taste of her still on my lips. I do not cry, not anymore. I simply close my eyes and wait for the ghost of her warmth to fade away.
"Elsa? Elsa, please," Anna whispers, shaking the queen's shoulder. "Elsa, wake up."
The elder shudders, just for a moment, betraying her wakefulness. Tears pool in icy blue eyes.
Anna moves closer, one arm tucking under her sister's heaving chest, and presses a chaste kiss against Elsa's pale shoulder. "It's okay, Elsa, I'm right here. It was just a dream."
"Go back to sleep, Anna," Elsa whispers, flinching at the broken sound of her voice.
The arm around her middle tightens, "No. Not until I'm sure you're okay." Anna tugs, bringing their bodies even closer.
Elsa shudders again, eyes and lips pressed into slits. Warmth, Anna's warmth, sets the queen's body on fire. Cursing silently, Elsa tries to pull away.
"Stop that! I'm trying to help you, Elsa," Anna barks, sitting up with her arm now trapping the blonde in place. The redheaded princess glares down through the darkness, loose hair falling every which way.
The moon is not quite full, but the sky must be clear, for the pale light is enough for Elsa to see her sister's determined frown. It takes so much control not to reach up and muse the younger's hair further. Not to run pale fingers across that freckled brow, to sooth away the princess' anger. Not to pull her down and make the queen's sick dreams a reality.
"I don't want to talk about it, Anna, please," Elsa sighs, turning her head away and closing her eyes again. It is a useless motion, as the image of her sister's beauty has long since been burned into the queen's mind. She must not know.
Anna sighs as well, the tension slowly leaving her frame. She moves slowly, carefully, as if Elsa is as fragile as glass, rather than as strong as her ice. The princess fits her body against the blonde's side again, arms keeping the elder close, and rests her head against Elsa's shoulder once more. They are both silent.
Just when the queen thinks her precious sister has given up for the night, succumbed to sleep, Anna begins to whisper again.
"You aren't as subtle as you think, Elsa," she says.
Elsa tenses, but keeps quiet. She cannot know.
"I'm not stupid, I know you dream about that day out on the fjord. When I first started staying in here, you would cry my name in your sleep," Anna's fingers begin to trace lazy patterns on her sister's ribs. "It's different now," Anna chuckles, "how you sound."
Elsa swallows thickly, her body on fire everywhere that Anna touches. Her stomach, her side, her hip, where the princess' hand settles and grips gently. The queen gasps, eyes snapping open, as her sister's lips press firmly against the elder's neck. Heat flares in her blood listening to Anna giggle at her reaction.
"Whenever you're ready, we can talk about it," Anna promises, sounding sleepy. The princess kisses her queen again, just under Elsa's jaw. "You can't hide from me anymore. I'm right here and I'm not going anywhere. I love you, Elsa. I always have, and I've been waiting months now for you to come to your senses, so don't bother trying to convince me it's wrong. True love can't possibly be wrong." She cuddles closer, relaxing back into sleep.
The queen stares without seeing up at her ceiling. She is warm. Anna's head is nestled under her chin. Anna is safe in her sister's arms. She is alive and she knows. She is not afraid, or disgusted, or upset. True love? It can't possibly be that simple. That's not what the trolls meant. Elsa takes a shaky breath. Sleep, she commands herself, forcing her eyes closed. You'll talk to her at breakfast. You'll make her understand.
"I don't deserve you," Elsa whispers, on the verse of sleep again.
"Shut up, Elsa," Anna replies. She groans when the blonde startles. "Shut up and be still. You do deserve me. You've spent practically your whole life trying to keep me safe. And you love me," the princess pauses to yawn, "like no one else possibly can."
Elsa smiles despite herself, despite her long mental list of reservations and self-deprecating reasons why this conversation should not be happening. Anna curled against her, yawning and chastising her in the middle of the night, is too adorable to ignore. The queen sighs, kissing her sister's forehead lightly.
"Now go back to sleep," the princess commands. "We can argue about this in the morning."
Sighing, Elsa nods her head. "I love you, Anna," she replies, admitting defeat for now.
Anna shifts, leaning up and catching the elder in a quick kiss. "I love you, too, and there's nothing you can do to stop me."
Warmth spreads through the queen's veins as the younger settles against her again. Not heat like the passionate desire Elsa has felt in her dreams. Not the burn of frostbite or the fire of shame or guilt. No. Warmth, like sunshine and the sound of Anna laughing. Warmth, like the relief of seeing Anna come back to life that day on the fjord. Warmth, Elsa lets herself believe as she relaxes into a satisfying, dreamless rest, like that of true love.