Author's Notes: Okay so firstly, I wrote this because I know there's been hardly any fluff in "Snowflakes of Love and War" and my readers are getting antsy. I thank you all for putting up with me though!

And also, I wrote it because I seem to have an obsession with "Frozen"; seriously, I just came from watching the movie for the third time and this popped up...I might need to seek help o.o.

I hope you all enjoy it…and let me know in a review!

"Lie to me"

"Okay, Rule One is: Men always believe what they want to hear…" (M. Butterfly; Act 3, Scene 1)

"Do you love him?"


"More than you love me?"


Yet you claw at my back, and you gasp at my tongue, and you hiss at my fingers. You scream my name into the night and whisper it into the morning.

But you love him, you say.

And I believe that I believe you.

I tell you every day that you have to leave, that you are late and that Kristoff is waiting for you. But my words only make you eat more leisurely.

You grab some grapes from the bowl on the table and slowly enclose one with your tongue, bringing it to your mouth, savoring it. Your eyes bore into mine in the process and I gulp.

I choose to ignore you though, because this isn't the time or the place.

Nor are you the proper person, but who cares about that one right?

You finish your breakfast and stand. "I'll be heading out then."

You say before walking to my end of the table, leaning down and pressing your lips to my cheek. It's sweet, innocent, but it's solid.

That kiss stays with me for the rest of the day.

I have to watch you with him when you feel like being the good girlfriend. Often you host him a tea party. You don't even like tea. It's too sweet or not sweet enough, you whine to me; I have to drown it in honey for you to have at least half a cup when you are sick.

But when he's around you force yourself to drink it. You put on the biggest smile you can muster and swallow the horrid beverage, sometimes even burning your tongue. He laughs and I can tell he finds you so cute.

You are.

But you are also so incredibly manipulative. How cute would he find that?

Because you know I have been watching from the window of my study. You know that I burn with jealousy when he makes circles on your back, when he ruffles your hair and kisses your cheek.

So you make the servants prepare the table on that same spot every time the urge comes; right by my office, below my window. Where I can see everything, where you can see me.

On the nights after he has left I take you harder. I mark you with my bites. I write on you with my nails. I reach deep within you, touch you profoundly.

I brand you mine.

You chant my name against my neck as you hold onto my shoulders, firmly, fiercely. It's the mantra that keeps you sane. It's the only prayer you know.

I raise you and I drop you and I raise you again. All throughout the night I play you like a harp.

You are my instrument, I'm your musician.

And then there are the days where he is nowhere near. Olaf and Sven and his work have taken his time, or you have announced your indisposition.

In those days you follow me like a canine, you prance around me like a feline, and you watch me like a hawk.

We converse the most on those occasions. You make me laugh with your imaginative occurrences while I enlighten you on things you knew nothing about; the world, my powers, literature.

You listen closely, staring at my lips with every word I utter. Your ears are mine, but my lips are yours as it becomes evident that your mind is not the only thing I have aroused.

Because if there's something that you do know about, doubtlessly, is that I…well…that I burn for you.

This love is the only thing that warms my heart, even if I've never said it to anyone one.

Not even to you.

By God, those nights sure are heavenly, as incredibly divine as they are infernal.

My insides ignite with your soft caresses, with the way you take my ear between your rosy lips. Your hands are meticulous in their exploration of my body. Your thumbs brush the peaks of my breasts and I arch into your palms. I can feel your grin on my shoulder. You are pleased with you performance and I would smile at you – encouragingly, adoringly – If I could, but I find myself otherwise occupied as your mouth descends on mine. You nip and suck at my lower lip, and then pierce my mouth with your tongue. They play, we moan.

This is your favorite position; I know because I love it as well. So unlike the wholesome and childish girl everyone else sees. You are dominant, you are in control, you are on top pressing me to you, widening my legs to settle between them. Your womanhood presses to mine, and I gasp, wrapping my legs around the back of your thighs, seizing your buttocks with open palms. I try to pull you into me, faster, harder.

I know you love it this way because you feel like we are merging. I love it because I too feel like we have become one.

We ride together into nirvana, our mouths suffocating our screams of pleasure. And after, you collapse on top of me, resting your head on my breasts and holding my legs around you. We sleep intertwined, as the unified being we have become.

Yet I wonder, as you snore lightly upon my chest and I play with the ends of your hair: has Kristoff seen this side of you too?

When the weather is as beautiful as your eyes, I propose trips.

I can see the child within you come out to play. You are ecstatic, jumping around my office and listing all the things we will do.

We don't go far. We can't. I'm still queen, what would be of the Kingdom. But that doesn't decrease your enthusiasm.

We take a boat and sail to a nearby desolated island. It's relatively small, more like an islet, but it's enough for just the two of us.

"What did you tell Kristoff today?" I ask as you rub the stress off my shoulders; because when we are close to reality I suffer the sharing, but when we are far I suffer the stealing.

"Why do you ask about him?" I hear the remorse in your voice, and I want to tell you that there lays the answer.

Instead I shrug and say, "I'm just wondering."

Your hands kneed into my shoulder blades, "I told him that I had to attend a diplomatic meeting with you and that I wouldn't be available until late at night."

"So he's coming over tonight?"

"No." You say. My silence forces you to explain. "I said I would be too tired."

"We can always return sooner. That way he will have time to see you before the night. It is visiting day, is it not?" I suggest, even though I knew the schedule since before I proposed the trip.

Instantly, I hear you sigh. You didn't like what I said, but you don't like many things that come out of my mouth in relation to Kristoff. Your hands leave my back as you move around the blanket. You straddle my waste, take my face in your hands, and kiss me, even with a scowl in your eyebrows.

As we part, you whisper lividly against my lips, "You know I quickly send him away at your beckon."

"It shouldn't be that way." I refute.

"It is how it has to be." You reply.

"No, what has to be is most certainly not what we are doing. You love him! Right?" My voice rises without my consent.

You are silent as your fingers shake against my chin. I don't know what I see in your eyes. There are so many feelings in there, brought forth by me and my selfishness.

"Yes." You say determinedly, splintering my heart. But instead of getting off of me and asking me to take you back into the arms of your man you push me to the ground.

I'm startled; you can see it on my face. Yours is so close to mine when you angrily whisper, "Isn't that what you want to hear? It's what you want to believe. That this is a game, a lapse of my judgment from which I will soon withdraw." Your eyes lose their wrath as soon as those words have left you. You caress my cheek. I see sadness in you, I see resignation. "But you don't believe that. You recognize the lie. You know I love you with the essence of my being. I can't love him like this."

"But you must. What we are doing is not right, I know this now." I reply, taking her hand from my cheek.

"You knew that always!" You practically shout on my face, "But I don't agree. There's nothing more righteous than my love for you Elsa." You say with it desperation, it reflects on me.

But between us, you were always the strongest one.

I just can't help but think that you don't understand. So young and naïve, so impulsive with your love, you can't see the wrongness of our feelings, of what I have done to you.

I'm your older sister. My purpose is to protect you. I've done nothing of the sort, but I'm set to correct that.

I've spoken to Kristoff and he agrees with what we have discussed.

It might come as a surprise to you, although considering how smitten he is with you it really shouldn't.

Hopefully, the proposition will enlighten you to the opportunities you could have with him; opportunities that you will surely miss with me.

I am the one surprised though.

When my bedroom door is slammed so hard the book I have in my hands frosts over.

You are furious. Tears are cascading down your cheeks, your eyes, rimmed red, have turned a dark blue I have never seen in you and your hands have transformed into fist. I know they are for me, the punches you wish to throw, the hate in your eyes, the pain in your heart.

I stand to go to you, to calm you down. You don't move but you halt me with a shout. "How dare you!"

I stare at you, scared at the trembling rage in your voice. This is not what I wanted. You were supposed to be content if not elated.

"How fucking dare you put Kristoff up to that!"

I straighten my back and raise my chin as the queen that I am. The queen I can never be before you, but that I must become now. "I didn't put him up to anything. I made a comment and he eagerly spoke of his desires."

"And you gave him your blessing!" Your tone was unbelieving.

"Of course, he is your boyfriend! It's only the next logical step!" I screamed back. I could feel everything bubbling up inside of me, the guilt of our actions, the jealousy of having to share you, the fear of someone finding out, the anguish of losing you.

"Right, because you are very good at remembering that he's my boyfriend when it's convenient. You are almost as good at that as you are at forgetting that you are also my lover!"

"I'm your sister!"

"Yes, such a good sister you are that you won't even ask me if I want to marry Kristoff before granting him your blessing. And don't tell me you thought it would make me happy, because you know it wouldn't."

I sigh. This argument is so futile now. "It matters not. You are to marry him." I say, beginning to turn in a signal that the conversation is over.

"Because you say so?" You ask.

"Because you agreed."

"I didn't." I hear you say, and instantly spin towards you.

"What do you mean? He asked you, didn't he?" I question.

"Yes, but just because he asked doesn't mean I was going to say yes. In the same manner that just because you want to ignore your feelings doesn't mean I'm going to ignore mine."

I stare at you. It is now I who is unbelieving. What else can I do to set you in the right path, to save you from me?

You roughly wipe away your tears. The anger has diminished in your eyes, replaced by determination, and that unceasing love. You step up to me, hold my left hand, and kneel before me.

My heart seizes, clenches, swells.

"My queen, my sister, my love, I know all that you feel. I feel it too. But don't you understand Elsa, that I love you like no one else, and that because of this, no one else will do for me?"

There's something painful in my throat that I can't swallow. From a pocket in your dress you take out a small black box. You open it, never letting go of my hand, and present me with the most exquisite ring I could have imagine in my unrealistic fantasies of this occasion. It's silver, with two light blue precious stones guarding the center piece that is a diamond in the form of a snowflake.

I gasp at the beauty of it, at the beauty of you, and hear you say, "I've been keeping this for so long. Having Kristoff propose only reminded me it was time." You kiss my hand. "I know there's no father that will marry us, but don't allow that to take meaning from this moment, from this ring. With it I promise you that I won't marry Kristoff or anyone else, because I can't, because I have belonged to you since the beginning of time."

My heart bursts, my soul flares. I drop to my knees and watch you slide the jewelry onto my ring finger as tears leave my eyes. You brush them aside and we kiss with abandon.

Oh my dear Anna, how I love you so, you who love me so well, you who care for me so wonderfully, you who makes me, who breaks me. I am strong for and because of you.

No more lies my princess, my sister, my lover. Let us bask in the beauty of our truth, in the grace of our love.


Author's notes: Well…that didn't come out how I had planned. Elsa was supposed to actually want to continue with the farce, but well, I hope you enjoyed it anyway. Reviews are greatly appreciated! ^-^