#your-queenly-demise

[cartoonfangirl1218]

Twisted Tales: Part of Your World Review 

Liz Braswell’s take on the Little Mermaid asks “What if Ariel had never defeated Ursula?” And that is a dark future indeed. Ariel is the mute ruler of Atlantica with her father’s demise, Eric is in a permanent hypnotic daze content in his role as the Mad Prince making operettas as his wife, Princess Vanessa rules the kingdom in his stead, waging war on neighboring kingdoms and villages for no reason other than boredom and power.

However, six years later, lovable Scuttle gives everyone hope when he spots Vanessa talking to a disheartened polyp. It’s King Triton! King Triton is alive and once Ariel hears this news, she knows she must return to the world she had so loved to rescue him.

Sounds like a simple plot, but that it’s not so. It’s one thing to have a goal, but when Ariel surfaces to accomplish it, things are much more complicated than she thought. Since becoming queen, Ariel understands some of her father’s grumpy, stoic demeanor and has become much more calm, more decisive, queenly because of it. She worked twice as hard to be heard and respected as an authority, made doubly hard that she had to have Sebastian and Flounder as her translators. But returning to the surface and the potential of returning things to normal, some of her natural impulsivity and recklessness pops up again. What’s more, she realizes her actions have not only ruined her life but that she inadvertently brought Eric’s kingdom, Tirulia to ruin. If she hadn’t made the deal with Ursula to go on land to see Eric, Ursula wouldn’t have gone to her tricks to foil Ariel, and so on. Now Tirulia has a mad princess plunging the people to war, poverty and more. Now, Ariel is determined not only to rescue her father but that she must fix things on the Dry World too. She must get Vanessa off the throne.

Again, it is not as easy as just sneaking into the palace and finding her father in Vanessa’s room, especially as the seagulls weren’t able to tell her which bottle the King Triton polyp was in. However, she is able to grab the magical nautilus that Ursula stole her voice. This is where the story picks up, not only in the joyful reclamation of her voice, but it breaks the memory haze that Ursula had cast upon everyone else. Eric is free from the spell, confused but free and when Ariel appears seeking his help, he is more than willing to take his kingdom back. But that rash act to take back her voice ruins Ariel’s opportunity for surprise. Ursula knows she’s back and thus a grand game of sea chess begins.

As I have written in my other reviews, Braswell does an excellent job in building this world. The Dry Land kingdom of Tirulia seems to be inspired by Italy with its closeness to the coast, Roman architecture, vineyards and seafood cuisine. Though I suppose it could be Denmark as that would make more sense as a nod to the origins of The Little Mermaid as a Danish fairytale. But with how it was described in the story, I immediately thought Italy.

Point is, it felt like a very real breathing kingdom with allies, enemies, a specific culture etc. This was a fascinating point to Ariel as she returns to land and is able to more fully explore it without the three day time limit. She muses on how the humans have so much diversity in culture and their urge to explore whether in diplomacy or war. This is especially intriguing compared to Atlantica where it has been left in complacency. The merfolk are peaceful, content with festivals and concerts, and not so much exploring other oceans like Ariel wishes to do.

And that world building continues to Atlantica. Not only describing the state of complacency but their origins are heavily tied to Greek mythology as Triton (and all merfolk) are descendants of Neserus, the sea Titan. Ariel corrects Eric that they are not part human, part fish but part god, part fish as they are immortals. At least until they turn into foam, but they are far more immortal than humans. She also uses the ancient names of Prosperine, Cedes and others as major figures in their mermaid festivals. Braswell also describes the ancient evil powers of Elder Gods that Ursula tries to summon, describing them and their powers as almost eldritch abominations of the deep. So very vast world-building here creating landmarks, runes and a set of rules for how her trident’s powers operate.

As for the characters, I admire how Braswell manages to retain the Wonder Ariel has for the human worlds, her flaws of thoughtlessness and impulsivity and the effect of age and experience all at once in Ariel. She is a changed woman from her forced turn on the throne. She is more aware of her actions and consequences making her seem more adult, but still has the energetic heart and courage of her youth. I’m probably not giving her the depth she deserves here, but honestly you have to read for yourself the layers that Braswell created in this new Ariel, there’s a lot to analyze and unpack with it especially in one memorable scene of unpardonable poaching/fishing of sea life where she unleashes her fury much like the old gods of the sea.

Eric was a fun character and well-done love interest and ally. He is often described with a boyishness and sweet youthful personality that absolutely shines her, he perfectly fits what we see in the movie as a guy playing a flute on the ship, he just loves adventure on the sea just as Ariel loves exploring shipwrecks and the Dry World. But he too has grown up. Not quite the same reserve as Ariel but a more haunting one after he realizes he spent six years under Ursula’s spell. It speaks a lot to his character that he was most upset of how he had been complacent, writing music and operas while letting Vanessa control all other kingdom matter. Again, it is a youthful urge to do what is right and protect everyone, acting on emotion though he doesn’t quite have the knowledge and/or experience to back it up. But he is not dumb as Ursula thinks he is either. He is actually quite adept at playing the role of a complacent, Mad Prince when it is needed and so it is all the more shocking when he turns the tables on Ursula in a stunning one on one battle of wits. Seriously I cheered at the scene, he was like a chess master.

Additionally the choice to have him be a composer, one given to dramatics and epics like Sebastian adds another part to him. It shows his creative side and gives him another relation to Ariel as a singer. She sings not for the sake of performance but that she feels so much, she has to get it out in song. He does the same, writing down the notes that express things he can’t put into words. Truly, Braswell did a great job connecting them together and why they would have such a deep connection.

The supporting characters of Carlotta the no nonsense maid, Grimsby the stalwart fatherly butler (he was my favorite), scatterbrained Scuttle, his great grandgull Jona, Flounder and Sebastian were fine additions and did well in providing support and help in moving the plot and helping the heroes. They were all very sweet in their own right.

As for Ursula, she had her own twists too. At first, she seems to be her same grand self given to boasts and grandstanding of her own superiority especially over humans. But it is soon clear that she is as manipulative as ever. She manages to keep one step ahead of everyone almost the whole book but even so, her anger at Ariel’s reappearance brings some snarls to her grand plan. The problem Ursula has is that she wants power and revenge but her need to make it big and make everyone know it is her, proves to be one of her downfalls. That and how her pride deludes her into thinking that all she should bow to her without question, and that she can handle human politics with the same methods as from under the sea. Her power-hungry descent to madness creates a unique sort of terrifying villain that readers will shiver from.

I have a few nitpicks here that kept this from being a solid 5 like the repeated phrase Queen of the Sea. I get it, Ariel’s the queen of the sea but Braswell used it so much in the place of Ariel or She, it became annoying.

I also understand that Braswell wanted to create an immersive world but she had one-two page chapters from the point of view of random villagers, from Flotsam and Jetsam, Grimsby and Carlotta that really didn’t provide anything. They were one time chapters and were unnecessary as they didn’t really foreshadow anything that was revealed or talked in Ariel/Eric/Ursula’s chapters.

There was also one chapter where Ursula attempted trick another human for her voice to disguise her true one now that Ariel had hers back. It failed but it felt like it was a cut off thread leading to something bigger. But the whole act was never mentioned again like it hadn’t happened so what was the point?

Furthermore, it took 30 pages before Ariel was introduced. I suppose Braswell wanted to illustrate the dire state of Tirulia first, but since this is Ariel’s story I felt like she should be have given the Prologue at least so it would set who this story was about.

Finally, there was an interesting thread of Ariel’s interactions with her sisters. They are mostly flighty and concerned only with having fun. They place Ariel as queen as a punishment for her role in Triton’s death but Ariel soon sees they it was less punishing her but more avoiding royal duties themselves. She also sees it as an attempt to distract themselves from their grief by focusing on silly things that provide little thought. Attina, the eldest is the only one who gets a little more depth which I loved as she was always my favorite.

But it felt a bit half done. There was one line that stood out to me, “The oldest sister who had tried to take over as mother when their real mother died, and never succeeded in the role,” (Braswell 64). Like there’s so much in that line! But Attina spent most of her time insulting Ariel’s choices and fascination with the Dry World. Which I did sense there might be some jealousy from Attina’s part, that Ariel who was the prettiest, most talented favorite daughter wanted to throw everything for the Dry World as if mers meant nothing. But ultimately, there were only hints and not much else. She only gave rude comments, and didn’t help with saving Triton, even though as later said, as eldest she had more training royal matters. It just felt off.

Overall, this was a solid Twisted Tale albeit with a few cut off threads. I give it 4 nautiluses.

[cruelfeline]

Agh, it got so long I had to read-more it; no one look at this; I just had to get it out of my mind, but don’t look at it just ignore this and go examine a pretty nature photo; honestly these just keep getting worse why does this keep happening? And I hate dialogue. And I hate characterization. Ugghhh... just insert a Mermista groan here.

also a more mature Catra helping Hordak on his journey provides me with happiness don’t judge me

Please consider, a concept:

A few months have passed since Prime’s demise. Reconstruction of Etheria’s damaged settlements is well underway, and all parties involved have gotten... if not entirely comfortable with one another, then at least able to interact with civility. Enough so that, when Entrapta and Bow end up delayed on one of their interplanetary trips, Hordak is only moderately uneasy about heading off to Bright Moon on his own. Oh, of course he’d rather wait for Entrapta, but certain planned meetings (dictated by Etheria’s terribly inconvenient seasons) simply cannot be delayed. So off he goes, determined to maintain decorum and dignity and uphold his end of all relevant treaties. He is received by Glimmer, Adora, and Catra. The other Princesses are all otherwise engaged (with what, he cares little, though he is admittedly amused to learn that Mermista and Perfuma are occupied with an apparently disastrous seaweed-related snafu). So it is the four of them against a whole mess of administrative work.

The girls, for their part, are equally uneasy but likewise determined to proceed as usual (Adora and Catra seeming particularly determined). They meet Hordak’s reserved politeness with a tentative poise of their own, and the group’s work commences.

And for a number of days, it goes fairly well. Even Glimmer has to admit that, whatever anyone’s misgivings about how an Entrapta-less Hordak might behave, things are running smoothly. She maintains control of the meetings, guiding them through agenda after agenda, while Adora and Catra provide input based upon their recent scouting trips to Etheria’s various corners. Hordak rounds the discussions out with whatever technological information is relevant. Their sessions run long most nights (too long, if Catra were asked her opinion on the matter, which she pointedly is not), but they are productive. The four of them get an impressive amount of work done, and all without any tense moments or uncomfortable quarrels. One might even say that they are getting along quite well, all things considered.

In fact, Catra is nearly certain that, when Adora mentions appreciating the work of some Dryl-made construction bots in a seaside village, Hordak subtly quirks his lips in what a careful observer could term a smile.

So the three girls are legitimately stunned when, about three-quarters of the way through their intended time together, Hordak’s behavior abruptly changes. His calm demeanor turns sullen and tense. Previously comprehensive explanations gain a taciturn edge, eventually devolving into clipped, half-snarled responses and sneered refusals to provide clarification. More and more often, words are accompanied by the baring of red teeth and the angry glare of red eyes. 

Glimmer is... less than pleased, but between her own determination to make this treaty work and Adora’s dogged, somewhat frantic optimism, she strives to maintain civility long enough to get through the last few days. But, well... limits are limits. And limits are surpassed when, one evening, Hordak furiously declares that he has lost patience with their “embarrassing incompetence” and, with nary another word, storms out of the conference room. 

“That’s it! How dare he?!”

Glimmer promptly explodes, and Catra spends the next few minutes watching Adora try to quiet what is proving to be a very loud, very angry, moderately uncouth Queenly rant. It is in the midst of this rant that Adora catches her eye and, with a quiet groan and a nod and a mental wish of good luck, Catra slips away with Melog silently following at her heels. 

“I guess this is better than dealing with Sparkles,” she mutters to herself as she stands at the door to Hordak’s temporary quarters. Beside her, Melog trills encouragement, and she sighs. They’re right, of course: between the two of them, Adora has more experience dealing with an upset Glimmer. And Catra... okay, so she doesn’t have “experience dealing with an upset Hordak.” Not... not good experience. But she worked with him for nearly a year. And, given what she’s seen, what she knows... she has a fair idea of what’s been happening. She’d been quietly hoping that it would work itself out, or that it wouldn’t become enough of a problem to cause trouble before they finished their work, but alas: it seems that that sort of luck just isn’t on their side.

Which, given the fact that Hordak seems to have the worst luck of anyone she knows, probably should have been something she’d seen coming.

Melog trills again, adding a gentle headbutt this time.

“Okay, okay... give me a second.”

She takes a breath, lifts a hand to knock, grimaces, and drops said hand. She clears her throat.

“Hordak?”

Nothing. She frowns and tries again.

“Hordak? Are you-”

“Leave.”

His snarl is all-too familiar, and even muffled through a door, it causes her hackles to rise, her ears to pin back, her tail to lash.

“Look, I just-”

“Go. Away.”

She grits her teeth, clenches her fists, and turns away, ready to return downstairs with nothing to show for her efforts but a bad mood. Next to her, Melog meows in protest. She rounds on them.

“What? If he wants to be a jerk about it, then that’s his problem! Besides, what am I supposed to do? Break down the door?”

And she resumes making her way back to the staircase, ignoring Melog’s continued protest (which, come to think of it, sounds fairly alarmed, but... well, what is she to do?) and... she freezes. The world around her is starting to shimmer. She knows that shimmer: teleportation via alien cat.

“Wait! I said-!”

And just like that, they’re in his room, and though Catra’s first instinct is to make her displeasure very loudly known, said instinct quickly fades at the sight of Hordak.

“Oh, damn it.”

From his place on the floor, crumpled in a sweating, trembling heap, Hordak looks up at the intrusion. His eyes widen, face twisting with fury as he prepares to shout what Catra predicts will be his trademark “get out,” only to choke up and curl in on himself as some sort of painful spasm races through him. 

Once upon a time, this sight might have spurred Catra into a bout of cruel gloating, but circumstances are vastly different today. 

Today, before either of them can really take stock of what is happening, she helps him up and half-leads, half-carries him to the corner sofa, depositing him with a strained grunt before taking a step back and giving him a moment to collect himself. Which he does while glaring at her.

For some time, the only sound between them is the ugly rasp of Hordak’s panting, then: “Get. Out.”

Ah. There it is. As expected. As anticipated. Catra’s ears flick at the command.

A part of her still bristles at his snarling, at his combative ire, at his accusatory glare... but a different part notices instead how that glare comes through dull eyes, how that snarling fades into exhausted panting, how he’s still trembling, even before his very unwanted audience. As the seconds pass, this part maintains its position at the forefront of her mind, until:

“You want some water?”

“...”

“...”

“...what?”

There’s a sudden lightness to her thoughts.

“I’m gonna get you some water. Just... stay there, okay?”

Melog punctuates her words with a happy chirp before providing the necessary teleport. A minute later, they’re back from the kitchens, glass of cool water in hand. Hordak remains where they left him, though he actually gives a bit of a start when they reappear. The momentary surprise disappears under a scowl as Catra holds the glass out to him.

He curls his lip. He doesn’t take it.

Catra remains steady. Next to her, Melog sits, tail waving a constant, slow path in the air.

Hordak bares his teeth.

“I do not require your pity, Catra.”

“Good, ‘cause all I’ve got is this glass of water.”

He gapes at her.

“Which, y’know, you should take. Because my arm is getting tired.”

His expression closes off again in another scowl (he never did see the humor in her sass, did he?), but after a few more moments, Hordak relents. Slowly, clearly trying to keep his hand from trembling too much, he takes the offered glass.

Catra sighs and, suddenly drained, sits down on the ground a few feet away from him, resting her back against the arm of the sofa. Melog stretches out beside her, and Catra turns her back to Hordak to focus on providing the desired belly rub. She swivels an ear towards him, listening for him to finish draining the glass. He does so. 

She can hear that his breath has lost that ugly rasp, and a tightness in her chest that she hadn’t been aware of loosens.

“So,” she begins, trying to keep her tone casual, “do you... need to call Entrapta? Is it... is it your-”

“Entrapta is currently beyond the reach of our communication modules.” She’d steeled herself for another snarled response, but his voice is calm, almost quiet. “And no; it is not my armor.”

“...oh.”

A minute passes. Two. Catra starts to tentatively turn around, wishing to steal a glance, but Melog thrusts their head into her lap and refocuses her gaze downwards. Another minute passes, then:

“It... it has proven somewhat...” He starts, stops, starts again. Stops again. Something that is not pain chokes his words, and though she wants to somehow encourage him, a soft rumble from Melog compels her to wait.

“Even with the armor, there are times that I... have difficulties.” He is breathing quicker again, she can hear; not quite panting, but definitely breathing quicker. In her lap, Melog seems attentive but otherwise unconcerned.

“Particularly during periods of higher stress, or exertion. Though,” he suddenly hisses, and Catra hears claws scrape against fabric, “hardly anything about our current work should merit this... exacerbation.”

He falls quiet, and for what feels like a long while, neither of them say anything. Melog’s soft purring fills the silence.

“Sparkles is mad,” Catra finally says, “Adora’s calming her down.”

This time, when she tries to turn her gaze back to him, Melog remains quiet. She watches Hordak nod, sees his ears droop.

“My behavior has been... unacceptable. I shall go request an audience with Queen Glimmer and make an apology-”

“Uh-uh.”

He frowns at her. 

“Oh, I mean, yeah! Definitely apologize. You were a jerk. But not now; you should rest first. I’ll go tell them that you’re not feeling great, and-”

His scowl returns.

“That is not necessary.”

She matches his frown with her own and scoffs. “Uh, according to what just happened, it is. What? You’re just gonna... pretend you’re fine and keep going?”

He looks like he wishes to say something less-than-polite, scowl deepening, but instead he turns away with a quiet huff. His ears droop even further.

“The terms of the treaty are fair, and it is my duty to adhere to them. This... lapse... aside, I am entirely capable of doing so.” He sighs and seems to will his ears into a more neutral position. “So yes: I shall ‘keep going.’” 

Catra blinks at him.

“That’s... really stupid.”

He blinks at her. 

“...what?”

She rolls her eyes. “It’s stupid. What’s the point of it... pushing yourself like that when you’ve obviously had enough? If you need a break, then-”

Suddenly he snarls, he rounds on her, teeth and eyes glowing too-brightly, and she nearly jerks back. Melog tenses beside her but remains still.

“Then what?! I should inform the Queen, and she will suspend proceedings and accept needless delays for my comfort? That is... that is-”

He stops abruptly because she’s laughing, a dry sort of chuckle that might have infuriated him save for the fact that, when she notices his attention and stops, it’s to smile at him. Catra smiles at him, and the expression holds an honest sincerity that he’s never seen her exhibit before. His indignation fades; his aggressive posture deflates.

“Yeah. That’s exactly what she’ll do.”

At first, he only stares at her, as if uncertain that he has heard what he believes he has heard, but eventually Hordak swallows, glances away, glances back, presses his lips together.

“That is... highly illogical, given the circumstances. I am not... I do not...” His voice fades, and his ears all but wilt.

For the second time that day, Catra does something without thinking, settling herself into the seat next to him and placing a hand over one of his. It’s tense and cold to the touch; her thumb begins to stroke his knuckles without her realizing it. Hordak remains silent, lips slightly parted, transfixed. He does not even react when, on his other side, Melog presses their body gently against his leg.

“It’s a treaty, Hordak,” she begins, and her voice nearly strains for a moment when her brain catches up with her actions, but she steels her resolve and continues, “not a sentence. Not a punishment. I thought it was, at first. I figured it had to be, because of all we’ve done... all I’ve done. But it’s not.”

Catra remembers how she first felt, all those months ago, and she makes the connection between her old fears and his current ones, unconsciously pausing to squeeze his hand; her ears have pinned back, and her chest is suddenly tight again.

“It’s not supposed to... to hurt. For either of us. Y’know? I mean... I was out with the flu for a week a couple of months ago, and the worst thing that happened was having to choke down Perfuma’s gross herbal junk.” She huffs out a laugh, but there’s no amusement in it. “This...”

Now her voice does strain, and she has to stop for a moment before continuing. Beside her, Hordak is breathing quickly again and trying very hard to stop.

“This isn’t the Horde. Either Horde. How we feel matters. How... how you feel matters. So if you need a break, you get a break. ...okay?”

It takes him some time to answer, and in that time Catra realizes what her hand has been doing; she snatches it back just as he finds his voice.

“If... if you believe that your suggestion is... appropriate, then I shall agree to it.”

Catra lets out a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. The smile returns to her face, and she nods. Melog trills happily and rewards each of them with a gentle headbutt.

~

For what had seemed such a dramatic conversation, the aftermath is anything but. Catra and Melog return downstairs and tell Glimmer and Adora of what has transpired. Their reaction is as expected: the work is postponed, and Hordak is given leave to rest as long as is necessary, no questions asked. 

He spends the remainder of that day and the next in bed, rising in the late afternoon to deliver a very formal, semi-awkward apology to Glimmer. She responds with a very formal, semi-awkward acceptance. Their working session resumes, though Hordak finds that he needs to excuse himself again after only a couple of hours. That evening, Glimmer has a basket of strawberry tarts delivered to his room. She also makes a point of ensuring that their sessions no longer extend into the late night hours.

Catra remains nearby, much to Hordak’s (admittedly only half-sincere) chagrin, and between her stubbornness and Melog’s perception, he is kept well-supplied with snacks, water, extra blankets and, though both refuse to admit it, friendly company. Adora spends her time trying to contact Darla; when she succeeds, Hordak happily accepts Entrapta’s enthusiastic check-in (and assures her that, yes, he is being provided an adequate amount of soup). 

A few days later, he is able to rejoin the group in full capacity, and they finish their work with little harm done by their extended schedule. 

Then it is time for him to return to Dryl (Entrapta arrives the next day), but before he boards his transport, he takes a moment to do something he’d once never imagined he’d do: thank Catra. Awkwardly, as seems is his communicative style this trip, but sincerely. 

She grimaces slightly, refusing to meet his eyes, and scratches absently at the back of her head. Next to her, Melog utters a noise that sounds like a warbling coo, their mane glowing a faint pink.

“Yeah... well... better than you passing out and bringing the wrath of Entrapta down on us. Bright Moon’s still rebuilding, y’know.”

This elicits an actual laugh from Hordak, sudden and rather loud, and Catra fails to keep the surprise from her face as he regains control of himself and gives his final farewell with a small, genuine smile.

Despite Melog confirming for the world that she is blushing under her fur, Catra smiles back.

[outrealm-gates]

Celeste, gurgle and dump Chihiro and Kyoko.(If Celeste still is a muse)

“Mm...you two are putting up quite a fight in there...but it is as futile as your efforts in our little game. What hope did you have gambling against Moi~?” Celeste teased to her overengorged middle, uncaring whether or not her captive debtors could hear her taunting remarks or not. Hmph. They’d honestly paid their debt in full, it was more accurate to call them by what they truly were now. Food. While she would have a hell of a time ridding herself of the pudgy programmer and the doughy detective, they were stepping stones on the way to her queenly form. Mm...some tea would help her relax, but it would agitate her current feast and likely cause them to grow more rowdy. Honestly, its just petty at this point. But they’d digest like any other meal, and be reduced to their basest form like any other meal. And oh they weren’t the first, and far from the last to perish before her voracious desires. Kicking off her heels and sporting a sadistic smirk, she would lay on her bed gut-down, compressing the two beneath her. “Now then...Kyoko? Chihiro? Be good hors d'oeuvres, and digest.” Celeste enjoyed the power she exerted over these two, but the gluttonous gambler had enough of their pointless struggles. She began to bounce and grind against her own gut, assisting her stomach in moving the acids and chyme and churning these two meals up.

[Dump Cut]

“MMmh...I suppose no one will uncover the mystery of the detective turned....NNhh...Fertilizer....” Celeste grunted as she worked out the detestable and disgusting slop that constituted Kyoko’s remains, a pair of specially made and apparently acid resistant gloves the only evidence to suggest her demise...she would have a subordinate sanitize and stow them away so as to remove any suspicion. Chihiro thankfully had no such equipment, and was indistinguishable from the rest of the shit. A shame, but also convenient. Once the plastic container was filled with their remains another one of her collected servants went about removing it form her sight, another pair wiping her behind and applying some powder to freshen up her newly padded cheeks. “Adieu, Kirigiri-chan, Fujisaki-kun. Although, I suppose in a sense, you’ll always be by my side....Hmhmhm....my backside...<3″

[paradise-of-guilty-pleasures]

Shattered Reflections {3}

[Helsa RP- Fanfic]

Fandom: Frozen

Genre: Post-Frozen/ Canon Divergence

- Hurt/Comfort, Drama, Romance

Pairing(s): Hans/Elsa, Kristoff/Anna

Prince Hans is a mirror at heart, but wishes to shatter his reflections and correct his past mistakes. He returns to Arendelle, willingly surrendering himself to Queen Elsa’s judgement. Uncovering truths, unforeseen circumstances and a bit of je ne sais quoi, bring the Ice Queen and the Mirror Prince together in a way neither of them would have imagined.

A/N:

(( This is a collaborative RP Fic written by lovely fellow Helsa shipper FOW and myself. We RP for fun and just wanted wanted to share this story with fellow shippers, especially all my lovely shipper buddies over in the Helsa Discord Server. Long live the Province of Helsa! Thank you, Beta Reader Friends, your help is much appreciated. Hope you enjoy~ ))

Previous Chapter: Chapter 2. Burn After Reading 

[WARNING]:

Readers Discretion is Advised. There is mild mention of bodily harm from corporal punishment this chapter, it’s nothing too graphic, but I thought I’d warn anyway, better to be safe. If the subject makes you uncomfortable please refrain from reading.

–

Chapter 3. Bear Your Burdens

Hans rested on his stomach on his bed, arms crossed under his chin and eyes closed. At the sound of approach, however, he pushed himself up slowly, with a bit of a stretch, and waited to be addressed. In the corner under his bed were his dirty clothes, the ones he wanted to wash for himself. "Her Majesty graces me with her presence? I wonder what I've done to deserve such an honor." He remarked idly, though he didn't seem to focus too immediately. He seemed tired. Perhaps a little flushed.

Elsa thought she’d been prepared to face Hans again, but actually standing there in the dungeon, she realized she was not. The journals were one thing, but something about being in his presence again made her feel uneasy.

Yet it was not just Hans that had made her anxious, it was the dungeon itself as well. Elsa had not visited the dungeons since the coronation incident, and being back gave her a feeling of déjà vu, that made her chest compress and took her breath away. But maybe it was something more than the déjà vu that was making her restless.

It took her a moment to speak, after regaining enough air.

“ The Captain told me you weren’t acting like yourself today, ” maybe those weren’t the right words. “And that you wish to wash your own clothes? Which is a bit odd in and of itself.”

Hans seemed to think about it. “Not like myself? Curious, that I should have a ‘myself’ to act like.” He observed, seeming to find that by itself intriguing.

“I would like that, yes. The two questions may be related, but they are unfortunately tied to a secret I hold very dear. I would rather keep them to myself.” He paused to think a moment. “Does the good Captain have any elder siblings?”

The Captain seemed perplexed, and looked to Elsa briefly, perplexed, before answering. “No, I do not.”

“Ah, well. You aren’t likely to understand, then. Nor would the Queen or her Highness, they are too close and too friendly. No, there are some lessons one, only learns with brothers, I think. But I suppose prisoners are not entitled to secrets. A shame.” He looked between the two, but his gaze wavered somewhat. He seemed unfocused, and almost as if he had forgotten what he was saying, as he didn’t continue to explain himself.

Elsa did not like secrets. Secrets were what had kept her away from her dear Anna for so many years.

Yes, she was curious of his secret, Yet she did not plan prying it out of him, if he had his reservations she was going to let him be, for his aloofness had worried her. The way he spoke of his brothers was so grim and it seemed to affect him deeply.

“You’re right I don’t understand,” she paused. “ I wish I could understand… but if you wish not to share your secret I will not force it from you.”

Hans seemed deeply thoughtful a moment.

“Her Majesty is far too kind. And too gentle a soul for these things.” He mused. His words seemed less carefully chosen, and his manner even less so.

“Too bad, I feel in a talkative mood. My secret is, you could stab me and my last intelligible words would be 'I am fine’. I’d sooner die than admit to being in pain in most cases. However, I rather don’t like not being able to focus my eyes -or my tongue.” He ignored his usual protocol and leaned over his bed again to lie on his stomach and seemingly ignored them. It was the most unlike himself that he had been.

“No, don’t ask, you know how I’ll answer. If you’re so curious, call for a doctor and let him find out. Or let me die in peace with my dignity, whatever, I’m quite neutral on the subject. But it’s all much too grim for a lady.” He wouldn’t tolerate any if this 'are you well’ guff. He clearly -so far as he could tell- was not.

“I think he might actually be dying.” The Captain admitted. He never thought someone could be so blazè about the subject, but Hans was most certainly not himself at that moment.

“Yes, the Navy’s opinion on treasoners is much different from the Isles’ royal family. At least one has a spine.” Hans mused, eyes closed on his folded-over pillow. He looked more like a large and lazy cat than a man in the dungeons.

Dying? He was dying? Elsa was frozen, she didn’t know how else to react. Frost formed at her fingertips. Her breath lost yet again. It perturbed her, how he could seem so nonchalant about his own demise.

Yes, she had resentment towards this man, for what he had done to her sister (more than what he had done to her), yet she did not wish him dead. She had wished never to lay eyes on him again, certainly, but by death, that was never how she wanted her wish to be fulfilled.

His return to Arendelle had made more sense to her now; he wanted to make amends before perishing. Having a dying man wait for his imminent death in the dungeon did not sit right with her.

So he had also been brutally punished by his navy. In her queenly studies she had read up on Naval Law and just remembering some of their harsh punishments she’d come across in her readings, made wince just thinking about them.

He was right her soul was too gentle, for she felt sorrow even for this Accursed Prince.

She felt helpless, trapped inside her mind like she was once trapped inside her room, with the walls slowly closing in around her.

Still frozen, lost in the maze of her thoughts, she hadn’t noticed the layer of ice she unconsciously created across the dungeon floor, and was now quickly creeping up the walls.

“Your Majesty, breathe.” The Captain spoke gently, but knew better than to touch her in such a state. “If he’s talking about what I suspect, a skilled doctor could yet help, but we’d want to get them quickly. Damn fool didn’t think to tell us to change bandages.” The Captain seemed somehow both annoyed and pitying.

“Didn’t want to be a bother. I never do. Much easier to die than admit weakness. But…” Hans seemed to lose track of what he was saying. He perhaps noticed the cold and rolled a bit to lean his back against the wall where the frost crept.

The Captain’s voice snapped her out of her trance. Breathe, she had to remember how to breathe. Her respiration was uneven as air started to fill her lungs again.

If there was a chance of saving him she was going to take it, even if protested against it. She had reached her limit listening to his self-depreciation, it started to exasperate her.

In her vexation she responded to his words a second thought.

“ Weakness?” She huffed. “Just letting oneself die is the ultimate form of weakness.” She believed that, for in her weakest moment she had wished for death herself.

The frost continued to engulf the dungeon wall.

“I believe it takes real strength to admit pain and continue living.”

Hans seemed to hardly be listening.

“Yes, I have heard that.” He sounded unimpressed. But he seemed calmer.

“Your Majesty, I propose we call a doctor. Now.” The Captain proposed, shifting warily. “The clothes- Hiding blood, I suspect.” He didn’t like what this sounded like. Hans seemed unlike himself. He shifted a bit. “I think it’s his back. A bit more ice might help stay conscious. Or at least to dampen the fever.”

Elsa nodded in agreement. “Yes, please go call a doctor.”

She stepped closer to Hans. She looked down at her hand and realized she still held the note wrote earlier and brought with her, she had a strange idea. The note was no damp rag, but thought it could work as a makeshift one, if she chilled it and placed on his forehead.

“I’ll provide the ice, in the meantime.”

The Captain hesitated a moment, but he nodded, deciding Hans wouldn’t be a big problem as he fled from the scene to find a doctor.

Hans seemed to blink a bit, but he closed his eyes again. He was unreasonably warm.

“Too kind by far.” He muttered, without much context. He didn’t pull away, if anything, he relaxed somewhat.

“I didn’t do this intentionally. 'Thought that had healed.” He muttered.

Elsa was grateful that Hans had not been stubborn enough to protest her help. She had not touched him directly, but the heat emanating from his body even at the distance was worrisome.

She didn’t respond to him, instead she took a deep breath and tried to control the flurry she created over his back. She was intently focused on creating a light frost over his shirt. Elsa had been extra cautious when her ice powers touched someone, she did not want to risk what happened to Anna happen to anyone else.

Hans seemed more comfortable with the slight chill, really.

There was an odd smell closer to him. Bad, but unrecognizable without an expert there. It was on his old shirts, as well, but to a lesser extent, along with spots of blood in strange hatching patterns.

It didn’t take long for a doctor to arrive with the guard, and a medical bag.

“Good afternoon, your Majesty.” He bustled right in to get to work, sniffed the air, and wrinkled his nose. “Whatever it is, it’s infected. Would you be opposed to him being moved to a more sterile environment?” He didn’t even have to look at Hans to know it.

“You might not want to be here when the dressings come off. It could be a very upsetting sight. And smell. But your ice does help.” He assured. “I see we have the Prince for a patient. Didn’t know he was in Arendelle.” The Doctor may have been slightly uneasy about that fact, but it didn’t change that Hans was his patient, and he would do what he could.

The Doctor’s bombardment of words barely gave her time to process them all.

“ Not at all, feel free to transfer him, there are ample rooms you can use.” There were many empty servant and guest rooms in the Arendelle Castle that were not in use, and hadn’t been vacant for years. Elsa hesitated only for a brief moment, but looking back down at feverish fool in front of her, she found her resolve. “ If my ice can serve useful in any way, I’m willing to oblige.”

The Doctor seemed uncertain, but gave a bit of a sigh and nodded. “The clearest room you have, and a cot, I’ll need a lot of light, a lot of clean water, clear spirits. Got that? And somebody to help transfer him, he’s clearly not in any walking condition.” He spoke to the Captain of the guard, who nodded and went out to look.

“I’ve walked in worse.” Hans muttered from his cot.

“Then congratulations on not dying, but if you get up I’m asking the Queen to ice you to that bed.” The Doctor didn’t even pause to snap at him. Hans couldn’t help but smile a bit.

Hans muttered something about 'the best doctors’ but he seemed only semi-conscious at best.

While the guard was off, the doctor knelt down and checked under Hans’ collar to look at his back, prying him away from the wall. Hans didn’t even seem to notice the intrusion on his personal space or the touch. The doctor drew air between his teeth in an expression of sympathy pain. “Well the good news is, it doesn’t look like the infection will kill him today. He might’ve even lasted into tomorrow before being critical. The other good news is, he would be very difficult to kill if he’s lived this long. That or the Isles have better doctors.”

It was not a Queen’s duty to assist a doctor, Elsa was not bound by anything really, yet there she was regardless.

The Captain had sent a few of his men to help transfer Hans over from the dungeon to the new room. It was no easy feat, but it was done.

The Captain had found everything the Doctor required as quickly as possible and now they were almost done preparing for the Doctor to start working.

The time arrived shortly after, the Doctor carefully peeled off Hans shirt to uncover the secret he hid behind it. The Doctor had been right, it was a very unpleasant sight. Elsa had tried to mentally prepare herself, but it was far worse than she could have imagined. Her immediate response was to avert her gaze, it was too much for her to take in.

In the brief moment she had seen his back, she was overwhelmed with emotions. She shivered and could almost feel the ache upon her own back, that was probably nothing but an insignificant fraction of what he was actually feeling.

How long had he been living with these scars, if he said he thought they had healed already? He had arrived to Arendelle standing so tall, doing so well to hide his burden, that she never would have deduced it. Tears began to well up in her eyes.

The stench was nothing compared to the sight of his lacerations.

She felt herself freezing up again, but she couldn’t allow herself that luxury, she had to snap out of it. She took a deep breath, reminding herself she had volunteered herself to be useful during the operation, not pity him. No amount of pity can help a dying man.

The wounds had, for the most part, healed. The problem was, 'most’ was not 'completely’. Some had kept their scabs and were yet still too fresh, and the rope-like scar tissue was nearly indistinguishable from an infection below the skin. The Doctor had to do what he could to discover all the lingering wounds, get rid of the pus, clean the wounds, and re-bandage. Antibiotics were given, of course, something to stop the damage. In spite of how bad it looked, and how bad the infections smelled, the process wasn’t nearly as long or difficult as it appeared on the surface. That didn’t change the doctor’s perplexity as he finished up the surgery.

“I’ll change the bandages twice daily and keep an eye on him. He should be up and chatting again in a day or two, once the fever breaks. The infection itself isn’t as bad as the rest of it looks, but the surprising thing is that he got that many lacerations to begin with. Generally one isn’t supposed to survive that many.” It was true what Hans said, then. He would sooner die than show weakness, if he never mentioned that.

“Thank you, Doctor,” Elsa said with a nod. The Doctor then walked himself out.

The room had been emptied out other then Hans and herself. She had lingered behind and gazed at him and at in his fresh bandages and winced again knowing what was concealed behind them. Elsa approached the bedside, she hovered her hand over him, the heat emanating from him had lessened from before, but was still intense.

Hans would have hated this, if he were conscious. To be seen injured, by so many. Unable to snap at them or reassure them he was fine. Now his secret was out, that he could hide discomfort and pain, so now he would have to be watched for anyone to be certain.

Yet, he had told her, in his own way. The odd scratching on his note, reminiscent of the hash marks across his back; the admission of his secret in spite of her reassurance that he didn’t need to tell, the way he argued with words, but didn’t actually try to push anyone away. He tried not to be an inconvenience, but he accepted it when he was treated with care.

In spite of what pain they had caused him, he only ever spoke well of the Navy. So far as he was concerned, it seemed, he deserved them.

He sighed a little at the comfort of her natural chill around him. Ordinarily Hans enjoyed the warmth, but in this particular case, the chill helped him feel more at peace, and eased the pain.

It had been a long day for Elsa. What was supposed to be a simple verdict, had spiraled into a small frenzy. She was grateful the worst had passed, at least she hoped. She would not easily forget what transpired in that room.

She was ready to call it a day, when she heard the pitter-patter of someone running in the halls, it could only be one person, Anna.

“Elsa! Finally, it’s been so quiet around here. The guards told me you were busy all day, what’s on your mind?” She could tell Elsa was stressed, but since when was that new? Anna was always there to offer sisterly support- as long as Elsa would actually take it. Some days that seemed like a struggle.

Normally Elsa would indulge her younger sister with her chit-chat, but she really wasn’t in the mood to talk. Instead she did something that she didn’t generally do, and would definitely raise more questions from her, but she didn’t care she needed it more than anything right now. Without saying a word Elsa wrapped her sister in a tight hug.

Anna knew that had to be bad. Like 'oh god who’s dying’ bad. She wrapped her sister up in her arms as much as she could and squeezed her tight.

“Okay, whatever it is, is pretty bad. Just tell me you’re not dying and we can have some cocoa or something and… I dunno, sit quietly together?” Anna liked to chat to decompress, Elsa didn’t. Elsa needed the decompressing. So if they needed to just bundle up in blankets in silence for a while, they could do that. In the meanwhile, lots of warm hugs -and a little bit of worrying from Anna.

“I promise, I’m not dying Anna,” Elsa said softly nuzzled in her sisters embrace. She let out a sigh. “I would love some chocolate.”

“Alright. Girl time? Maybe we need to bundle up in bed with hot chocolate and talk. Or not talk. Whatever you need. You start bundling and I’ll get the cocoa?” It wasn’t about the warmth -obviously- but the blankets made for a nice calming weight. And they both loved chocolate.

“Yes, Thank you.” Elsa gave her little sister one last squeeze before letting her go.

The two sisters had bundled up like promised, drinking hot chocolate in silence.

After a while, the silence was too much even for Elsa to bear.

“Anna…” she began but didn’t know how to continue.

Anna perked up. She thrived on conversation, but she knew whatever was wrong had to be bothering Elsa like, a lot.

“Whatever it is, I’m here for you.” She assured, reaching over to rest a hand on Elsa’s arm. She hoped that whatever it was, that everything would be okay.

She hadn’t missed the emphasis from earlier, but she had a bad feeling about what Elsa meant when she said 'I’m not dying.’ That meant someone was, right? Who? Not Kristoff, at least, she was spending a lot of time with him and he probably would have told her about that… right?

Elsa let out a soft involuntary groan. “I know.” she answered reaching her other arm over to touch her sisters hand.

Elsa let out a deep sigh. “Today was just… a very hard day.” She tried to give her sister a smile, but it was visibly forced.

Anna copied the look. She smiled, but she could see the strain and worry on Elsa.

“Do you want to tell me about it or not? You look like you’re dying inside. Pick whichever is easier. Or have a little breakdown. It’s okay.” Anna offered her arms. What were sisters for, if not completely necessary familial cuddles?

Elsa was at the verge of tears, she took a deep breath to try to calm herself down. “… I saw something very bad happen to someone…” her voice was quavery. “And it’s really been affecting me.” her breath staggered. “I wish I could tell you more, but it’s really hard.” she finished her voice cracked.

Anna set down her cocoa and shifted behind Elsa to hold her tight. “Hey, it’s okay, it’s okay. In Arendelle something bad happened? You don’t have to tell me right now if you can’t, just feel how you need to feel for a bit, okay? It’s okay.” She stroked Elsa’s hair and hoped for the best. Anything to make things a little more okay. Anna didn’t know it, but she was the kind of person who did her damnedest to heal hearts and make things better.

Anna’s embrace was so warm. Elsa readjusted in her arms. Elsa couldn’t hold it in anymore and began to softly weep, letting all the sadness she had built up throughout the day. She felt safe in her younger sister’s hold.

Anna almost flinched, she never saw Elsa cry. But she held Elsa tight and hummed the lullaby their mother used, just to try and calm Elsa’s spirits.

“It’s okay, it’s okay.” She cooed between verses, and just let Elsa cry it out while she could. Whatever this was, it was clearly awful.

Everything her little sister did, helped to comfort her. The weeping had aided in easing her heavy heart. As her tears became subdued Elsa thanked her sister. She leaned her head against her and closed her eyes.

“It’s okay.” Anna assured again, continuing to pet Elsa’s hair.

“Wow, whatever it was really affected you, huh? Are you feeling a little better?” She asked softly, just hoping to talk through some of her fears, if Elsa was up to it. Or she could rest. Whatever Elsa was ready for.

“Yes…Thank you Anna, for everything, ” she said faintly. “… it’s just, seeing someone hurt like that was too much to bear.” “What was it? You seem so freaked out and… and heartbroken. Are you going to be okay? Are they?”

“I don’t know if I- …it’s hard for me to say,” Elsa sniffled. She shifted, rubbing her eyes with her hand and turning to look at her sister. “But, I’m going to be okay,” Elsa said with a soft smile, more genuine than the last, and a nod. She paused. Her heart pounded. Her gaze drifting from her sister. Her tone was hushed. “ I don’t know if they’ll be alright, but I really hope they will be.”

“Okay, well, in this kingdom good things happen, and we’re going to make sure to do everything a person can do. That’s all we can do, right?” Anna suggested sweetly. Kristoff had a saying of 'nothing is permanent’, and his philosophy was very much that things would happen, and sometimes they weren’t controllable. It helped Anna understand that she couldn’t fix everything, but that that wasn’t always a bad thing.

“It’ll be okay, one way or another.” She assured. She hoped she was right. Kristoff was better at these things.

“ Your right, ” Elsa said reverting her gaze back to her sister. She found one of her sister’s hands with her own and clasped it.

“Alright.” Anna felt a little better, hearing that maybe she had said the right thing. “Why don’t you sleep? I’ll stay right here. Just like when we were kids.” Anything to help her feel better, after all this mess that scared Elsa so.

Anna just wished she knew what had shaken Elsa so badly. She wasn’t sure she had seen this in person, but she knew it had to be like what she had felt when their parents had passed. Even outside of her room the castle had chilled after that.

[thescarletgarden1990]

Fated Allegiance | A Jonerys Secret Santa story

Moodboard by @adecila

For @doodlebug-qt 

It’s me, your Secret Santa! I really hope you will like your gift. 😊

At first, I tried to write a canon-compliant fic, but it wasn’t turning out that good, lol. So, I decided to turn it into an arranged marriage AU. I hope you don’t mind this little spin to your prompt! 

Have a lovely Christmas, my dear! ❤️❤️❤️

READ IT ON AO3

Preview:

Daenerys gripped the rail of the ship with gloved hands. There was a chill in the air she wasn't used to, the cold salted spray of the sea causing the pale skin of her cheeks to redden. She could feel Tyrion's eyes on her, and she knew her Hand was clever enough to read into her anxiety.

"Don't worry, my Queen," he finally spoke, no doubt aware of the cause of her turmoil. "I met the King in the North when he was nought but a boy and I liked him. Kind, reliable, honourable, if a bit naive. But he was only fourteen at the time, no doubt he had more than one occasion to grow out of it if he ended up with such a title despite being a bastard."

For a long time, Daenerys had known she would need to marry in Westeros. She wasn't ingenuous, she always knew she would need to strengthen her position in the eyes of the Westerosi lords through marriage.

Her clever Hand had been corresponding with his former wife, Sansa Stark, the Lady of Winterfell, to broker a marriage with her half-brother, Jon Snow, the King in the North. It was the best strategical match, Tyrion assured, with little competition in a continent that had been depleted of eligible suitors by a long succession of foolish, bloody wars.

Jon Snow would bring her the support of the entire North, the biggest and most difficult to control of the Seven Kingdoms, and through his sister, the support of the Vale and the Riverlands, too. It was more than she could hope for than any other match in the entire country, and in addition, the Starks had every reason to despise the False Queen's rule and to desire Cersei's demise.

Daenerys had immediately agreed with the betrothal, its strategical advantages clear as daylight. Still, the young woman beneath her queenly persona couldn't help but feel nervous at the prospect of accepting to marry a man she never even met.

She wasn't scared – she was a dragon, after all, and the gods help those who would bring her harm ever again – but a tiny part of her regretted not having the freedom to let her heart decide – to hope that there would be someone out here that she could love and would love her in return, that would love Dany as much as the imposing Mother of Dragons.

Up in the sky, Drogon reflected her emotional turmoil, giving a mighty screech above their heads. Her heart reached out to him through the tether of their bond.

“I had to marry for politics before, my Lord Hand. I'm not all too worried about it,” she finally said. Tyrion gave her a knowing glance, turning to look silently at the horizon, where the sun reflected on the walls of White Harbor, casting a shine to where her future lied.

[foxofthedesert]

RQ OUaT FF | OGA: Ch 8

Chapter 8 – A Bitter Draught

An uneventful month meanders by after the destruction of the garrison at the border. In the interim, Regina has spent her nights much the same way. Tonight no exception is made to the routine that has played an integral role in maintaining an even keel through the undulating seas portentous of a tempest about to blow in from the southeast.

The entire morning was spent embroiled in mostly monotonous meetings, one after another spanning a broad assortment of topics ranging from lumber industrialists bitching about deforestation protocols to a presentation chock full of charts, graphs, and illustrations given by an appallingly boring magistrate from the southerly regions regarding the 'dire threat' posed to her local waterways by wildlife run amok. Apparently overzealous beavers and moles alongside unusual upsurges in foxes, deer, and other agricultural and animal husbandry endangering critters pose as severe a threat as a witch hellbent on the kingdom's destruction – an elucidation for which Regina was ever-so-thankful. The highlight of the morning, and the entire day really, was a girl's chorus from the vicinity of Perrault who visited just before midday to finalize booking them for a gala to be thrown in Red's honor. Regina was so besotted with their cherubic enthusiasm for celebrating the upcoming birthday of the Queen they all adored that she allowed them to lunch with her.

Unfortunately, the proceeding afternoon and evening hours sapped all of the positive energy of that delightful hour. Drafting budget proposals for the council to review was not her idea of fun, nor was reviewing the repairs to the western wall nearing completion after a series of delays. All the same, those things had to be done lest the nobles had cause to question her commitment to the kingdom's financial health and the citadel's security. So after seeing the girl's chorus off, she sequestered in her office, hunkered down and scribbled figures until the wrist and fingers of her right hand ached. Several hours later, she emerged only to spend the next two meticulously inspecting stonework and newly dug rainwater management culverts in the midst of an autumn chill rolling through the area.

By the time Regina trudges up the corridor to her bedchambers, she is weary to the marrow of her bones. Pausing at the door, she fondly recalls how Red had returned from a similar visit to the western wall the month before. Coated in sweat and mud, Red had stank something awful but was nonetheless the picture of simple satisfaction at having broken Queenly protocol to help the workers haul rocks, mix mortar, dig trenches, and pour concrete to fill said ditches so that the new section of the wall had stable foundations. Regina's nose turns up at the memory of the smell wafting from her filthy wife, but then she melts at Red's happy smile at having exhausted herself in hard, honest work that paid objective dividends she has personally witnessed. The wall is now twice as strong as it was before repairs were undertaken. Several times during her review, she was approached by workers and offered thanks for Red's unnecessary but greatly appreciated aid.

I'm just glad it was her that pitched in with the grunt work and not me, Regina thinks, smirking down at her pristine clothing. If Red wants to break her back getting down in the mud with what she insists will always be her sort of folk, she can have at it. As for me, I'll be staying clean and dry. Like mother said, 'That is what servants are for, Regina, and we pay them well enough for their labor. Your job is to ensure that labor is not done in vain.' She wasn't right about a lot, but that's one point I'll agree with her on.

There is a part of Regina that cringes at how snobbish that sounds. Fortunately for her, it is not big enough to make any notable impact upon her conscience. The last time she let the stark disparity between the haves and have-nots bother her, she was a young and criminally naive fool who believed in concepts that will never harmonize with reality – such as the idiotic assumptions that love will always triumph over hate and good over evil. Daniel's death was a slap to the face curing her of those delusions, one that she has yet to recover from and probably never will when five years of marriage to a hopeless romantic has only made a tiny dent in her condescending streak. Besides, if Red can put up with her occasionally sneering down her nose at the common man, why should she be bothered to change any more than she already has? And it isn't as if she is the same callous tyrant who constantly abused the impoverished lower classes during the Dark Days.

Since she fell in love with Red and that hopeless idealism her mother tried to destroy flickered back to life into a quaint but undeniably extant ember, the plight of the rank and file has conclusively improved. There is still destitution, yes, as there always will be in a world as cruel as theirs. But there has been steady upward progress. Salaries of workers all over the citadel, and indeed all over the country, have reached record highs under her audacious agenda to redistribute some of the gross wealth being hoarded by the nobility. The program has not boosted her popularity among the effected noble houses, although even the hardest hit among those most wealthy individuals cannot argue with the wholesale economic benefits produced by a proletariat that is increasingly awash with disposable income. Merchants are especially reaping the harvest of this marked upturn in consumerism, and their nearly universal support of her measures has offset any intransigent defiance from the excessively privileged aristocracy.

So no, Regina does not feel bad for still being a bit of an arrogant, pompous, egotistical asshole. And why should she when Red admittedly finds that side of her...oddly arousing? The answer to that question is self-evident.

As Regina loiters outside in the hallway, the manifesting temptation to provoke Red's attraction to her nasty side is quite potent. Yet as enjoyable as the lengthy, highly energetic romps with her wife invariably are, she is not really in the mood tonight. Unusual as that is, all she wants is to settle in for a relaxing evening in the company of her favorite person in the universe. Red's consistently reliable warmth and devotion is more than enough to take her mind off of the sinister looking storm clouds always a nagging pace ahead of her stride. Storm clouds that thunder the ominous promises of the witch that murdered Robin in front of the whole court and wiped the garrison at Tamerlon off the map.

Prior to entering the chambers, she preemptively sets a number of wards over their door to match those she applies to her wife's person each morning since that terrible day they watched helplessly as one of their dearest friends died. She cannot be too careful since the witch threatening her life also made that lewd comment about Red. Expressing an intent to kill her is one thing, but implying untoward intentions toward her wife is another altogether. So Regina ignores Red's limited amount of snarky griping about her paranoia as she carefully applies the wards, and does not feel a bit bad about doing so. There is no length to which she is unwilling to go to prevent such an indignity being visited upon the only person she has ever known who deserves to live a free, peaceful, and happy life.

Thus far there have been no assassination attempts, much to Regina's equal relief and consternation, which is why she has not immediately recalled Mulan from her task shoring up the southern border with Drakkenhall. It also comes as no great shock since there have been no further sightings of the witch, though she wishes that were not the case. Were there actionable intelligence, she could be out there doing something about the threat. As is, her frustration only grows with each passing day and it feels more and more like the introductory theatrics at the garrison and with Robin were a pot of water hung over a lit fire. Now whatever malefic brew is being prepared has been left to simmer, and once heated to a rolling boil, the concoction will be poured out, no doubt inciting mayhem within the kingdom. To Regina, the waiting is far less preferable to the attack sure to unfold any day now. At least in open conflict she can retaliate. Right now all she's done is sit on her ass, hands tied behind her back, powerless to strike out at an enemy who has yet to reveal herself save through veiled taunts. Psychological warfare is being conducted, and having it waged upon a person of action such as herself is beyond aggravating.

The only comfort through the interminable period of peace before the storm is her nightly ritual with Red. Relaxing together before bed, sipping the finest vintage, and talking about their days helps to unwind the massive knot of frustration that is her entire body and mind of late. Somehow, Red is able to stay calm whereas Regina's self-control is fraying at the edges, and when they are together that inner serenity soothes her irritated nerves as if seeping in via emotional osmosis. After the destruction of the garrison and Robin's death, she's been constantly itching for a fight that refuses to present itself. Red, though, is eerily composed, able to go about her daily business without thoughts of their close friend's abrupt demise hindering or entirely paralyzing her. Whether she's just being brave for Regina's sake or has simply stowed away her grief until the current crisis is over remains uncertain. Regina is too selfish to ask which is the case. Right now she needs her wife's unshakable devotion, quiet strength, easy-going companionship, tender reassurance, and dependable affection – perhaps more so than she ever has.

"Hey, hon! You look beat," Red greets upon Regina's entry.

"I am," Regina says. "It was a long day."

Approaching from where she was perched at their vanity, reading the latest in a long line of epic romances gifted to her by Belle, Red offers Regina a compassionate smile. "I heard. Lots of meetings, huh? And drafting the yearly budget proposal on top of that. I don't envy you."

Regina hums her acknowledgement. Red had spend her day in the town that sprung up beneath the looming shadow of the castle almost immediately after construction was completed some two centuries ago. Referred to now as Eisentor as much due to the easily defensible layout teeming with choke points around the base of the mountain as to the massive steel-reinforced gates, manned around the clock, that bar entrance to the sinuous access road carving a path up to the precipice upon which the Dark Palace sits. In Eisentor, Red is a regarded as somewhat of a fixture, as she can be found there as oft as permitted by the many duties incumbent upon a sovereign.

Today Red paid a visit to the bakery Regina once spied upon and learned of the shifting opinion of her people regarding her rule. Red does not say anything to indicate where she went, nor does she need to; Regina can see the burn marks on her fingers and forearms from greedily plucking hot pastries out of the oven because she was too impatient to wait for them to be safely removed. Ennis and Hanna, the baker and his wife, permit Red to have her run of the place. The indulgence isn't surprising since Red is their Queen, although Regina does not think that factors into their overly kind allowance. Red has a way with people that disarms them almost instantly then has them reduced to so much putty in her palm within a few more minutes. The proprietors of the bakery, all four of them, did not last even that long before they were not only letting Red have her pick of the fresh-out-of-the-oven goodies but were letting her design – and hand-make! – her own confections. The first time that happened Red came back home with flour on her face and dough on her dress, which was a costly garment to have produced. Fortunately for her, the gingersnaps dipped in white chocolate she had baked were delicious. Had Regina known Red had a talent for baking she might not have resisted bedding her quite so long as she did.

In any case, Red's day was far less strenuous than Regina's, thus the reason for her being extra sympathetic. Which she most certainly ought to be as she probably had Ennis and Hanna's absurdly attractive children pawing all over her while she was flitting about their establishment like a butterfly perfectly at home in an environment that decorum would expect her to avoid appearing too comfortable in.

"As well you shouldn't. How are Rina and Alfred, by the way?" Regina asks, unable to keep the venom out of her question. She is still uncomfortable with how much time those two funny and kind, extremely gorgeous, and very single siblings spend around Red.

"Doing good," Red says, smile shifting with longsuffering affection for Regina's irrepressible jealous streak where those two are concerned. "You don't have to keep saying their names like a dirty word, by the way. They're just friends who know I don't have eyes for anybody but you."

"Maybe so, but I'd still feel better if they both got married already," Regina grouses, mood souring further when Red chuckles at her discomfort. "Yuck it up, buttercup. Mock my concerns. But answer me this, what are two highly attractive and eligible individuals like them doing unmarried in their mid-twenties? Huh?"

"Waiting for the right person just like I did," Red calmly answers, ever the diplomat. "The see what I have and want it for themselves. And you know what? I don't blame them one tiny iota. Everyone should be as lucky as me to have found somebody like you."

Eyes dancing, Red sidles over to Regina and pulls her into an embrace without permission. To Regina's frustration, she allows the uninvited move, even appreciates the motive behind it and the comfort it gives her. Ten years ago, she would have incinerated anyone who dared such boldness. Instead she melts into the embrace and accepts the kiss pressed gently to her lips.

You've turned into a pathetic sap, Regina. But who can blame me? These arms are the safest, most loving place in the world. And those kisses are worth all the gold in the kingdom. I may be a sap but at least I'm a happy one.

A chuckle reverberates through Red's chest as Regina loops her arms behind Red, hands joined at the small of her back. "You've been jealous of Rin and Alfie for years for absolutely no good reason. How many times do I have to remind you that neither of them are interested that way in girls?"

Regina pulls away, brows arched. "I thought the same once. Before Leopold's death, I held to my mother's puritanical view of same sex attraction. And then I..." she trails off before mentioning her introduction to Maleficent, not wanting to put Red in a bad mood as well.

Red does not care very much for Mal. Never has really since their introduction almost seven years ago. She insists it is because of the ancient hatred her kind harbors for the race of dragons. One of few historical contributions Anita made to her daughter's thirst for knowledge about her roots was an oral tradition passed down for untold generations which holds that the dragons created werewolves and then enslaved them as a labor force they then exploited mercilessly to erect their great castles and earthworks, some of which exist to this day. That enmity is apparently ingrained into werewolves, which might explain why Red is on constant alert whenever Mal is around for the week or so she visits two or three times per year while her daughter Lillian is with her father. It might, that is, if were not for the scathing glances Red often cast at Maleficent, whether Mal was paying attention or not, only occurring when Regina was present. Among other trustworthy sources, Iris has informed Regina that Red acts perfectly normal when alone with Mal, and that they even seem to get along rather well without Regina between them as she oft is to the keep the peace. Obviously, Red's loathing for Mal is just her own jealous, possessive streak rearing her ugly head – and it is a her, as there is no question the source is the wolf, who thought of Regina as her mate long before her human half did.

So, while it is true Mal was her first foray into the boundless pleasures of a woman's intimate touch, naturally she avoids speaking such a truth aloud to prevent any consequential effusion of blood. A fight between a dragon and the most enormous werewolf on record would not only result in one of the participants being seriously harmed, but there is no telling what damage those two would cause around the citadel tussling in their bestial forms. And as much as Regina enjoys Red acting irrationally possessive and territorial, she does not want her pleasure to come at the expense of innocent bystanders. Or worse, at Red's. Strong as Red is in her fur, could she really take on a dragon as big as a small castle and escape the encounter unscathed? Regina doesn't think so, and thus keeps her trap shut.

Plus, if Mal hurt Red...? Well, then Regina would have to hurt Mal, and she really does not want to do that. She has precious few friends as is that accept her for who she is and not who they want her to be. Mal is one of those, and the oldest at that. It would be unspeakably tragic if Regina lost their deeply embedded camaraderie because she was no better than Snow White at keeping a secret, even if it was her own and not that of another.

"Well," she amends after clearing her throat, "then I learned differently. Such revelations can sneak up on you, as you well know."

Red nods, nibbling her lip bashfully. Unlike Regina, Red had no prior sexual experience with another woman when they became lovers. Her innocence in the matter was as precious as it was exciting. And not only in that aspect, but Red was a virgin as well, having never been brave enough to breach that momentous threshold with Peter before his horrific demise at Red's unwitting...paws. Those crucial details made their first time a priceless gift twice over, so lovingly and trustfully offered by Red and accepted by Regina with all due reverence. Regina will never forget a single detail of that night. Every delightful moan Red let loose, every delicious shudder of the taut muscles in her flawless body, the keening encouragements as Regina's lips, tongue, or fingers discovered all the right spots she never imagined could make her feel so good, and even the whimpers of pain as her maidenhood was delicately torn – all are recorded for posterity within the vault of Regina's memory. Honestly, if she hadn't already known, simply being allowed to observe Red's first time while caught in the throes of some euphoria induced out-of-body experience would have convinced her she was indeed a bisexual woman with a clear preference for the fairer sex.

Getting to be Red's first in two distinct facets almost made her regret giving away both of hers, one to Daniel – a secret Leopold kept for her, one of his few commendable kindnesses to her during their marriage – and the other to Maleficent. Almost. But then she remembers Maleficent breaking her in, how the older dragon had made sure she felt immense waves of almost unbearable pleasure before being allowed to attempt reciprocation, and then how she was expertly guided in the particulars of bringing a woman to orgasm. Under Mal's diligent tutelage, Regina became an expert in her own right and was thus able to impart her wisdom to Red, who proved as eager a student as she once was.

The point, however, is that their fateful encounter on the mountain pass when Regina was hunting down Snow was the first time Red ever experienced attraction to a woman. The intensity of their connection, as she confessed to Regina during their initial and somewhat awkward dinner, had taken her completely by surprise. The fact of the matter is that when confronted by the right circumstance or person, attractions can spring up previously thought absurd if not downright impossible. And if it happened to Red, it could also happen to the baker's offspring. Even Alfred and Rina's preferences are as stated, they would not be unique in questioning them for Red's sake. More than one noble lady with a husband has let slip that they would be receptive to overtures from Misthaven's junior Queen. Hell, Regina herself has been propositioned by seemingly heterosexual women. As unlikely as such as turnabout is, it is not outside of the realm of possibility.

And so even if Regina knows she is being silly, knows that Red is being sincere when insisting she is a one woman gal, that she couldn't be happier in their marriage, and that there is no one else who could ever stir her heart or her passions the way she can, Regina cannot help but feel these irrational surges of jealousy. They aren't Red's fault by any means. No matter how much she has matured emotionally since meeting Red, she is still an inherently possessive woman who finds the concept of others wanting what is hers utterly infuriating.

And Red is mine, dammit. Mine!

"True," Red says, rubbing reassurance into Regina's back between the shoulder blades, like she can sensing Regina's troublesome thoughts. Which is not unusual. Damn werewolf senses. "And maybe they are attracted to me," Red goes on. "Just a teeny tiny bit. If so, they aren't the only ones, and that's not me being boastful. I've had to deal with roving hands and leering eyes since I first grew breasts and developed a figure that didn't more resemble a twig than a girl. That's partly why I made Gran teach me how to shoot a bow and Peter to swing a sword. But that also means I have a lot of experience ignoring that kind of unwanted or unrequited attention. At least the eyes, that is. Hands get slapped."

"Or cut off," Regina growls, remembering one time when a drunk stumbling through town groped Red's chest. On instinct, Regina drew her sword and relieved the man of the offending appendage. Red was not pleased.

"Let's not go there," Red says, nose wrinkling as if remembering the same thing. She then shakes her head, clearly finding the direction their discussion was heading odious. "In fact, let's just drop this topic altogether and meander over into safe waters."

Regina nods curtly. She had not liked the subject any better than Red. "Agreed." Silence then descends in the absence of a topic, not pleasant although not exactly unpleasant either.

"Have you heard anything else from Mulan?" Red asks a moment later.

Knowing this avenue of discussion is in many ways more stressful than the one they'd just been on, Regina indicates towards the plush sofa pushed against the far wall right next the bay window. "Let's sit first." Red's agreement comes by silently allowing Regina to grab her hand and pull her over to the sofa. Only once they are both seated, hips touching, Red leaning into Regina's shoulder, does Regina finally give a proper answer. "Yes, I have heard from Mulan," she says, as Red listens intently, Regina's tightly clutched hand sandwiched between her own in her lap, legs crossed, body angled inward toward Regina. "I received a letter yesterday. There have been no further attacks in Drakkenhall since the two last month. She seems to believe this lull in activity is indicative of an imminent strike. Called it the calm before the storm."

"And you agree with that assessment?" Red asks, looking every bit as worried for Regina's safety as she had the night after they buried Robin.

"I trust Mulan, so yes," Regina says, her tone betraying her own concern. "Also, I have heard reports from my spies of troubling rumors spreading through the lowlands between Snow's realm, Stefan's, and ours. Rumors of armed men being spotted in the dense forests, never long enough to identify numbers before disappearing into the shadows like ghosts. All attempts to scout out these interlopers have come back empty-handed. I'd ordinarily regard them as poppycock, but the locals have long claimed there are secret tunnels criss-crossing the region, remains of ancient works built during the Great Ogre Wars an age ago. Perhaps there is some truth to these rumors and some clandestine force is gathering right under our noses. Or this information can be dismissed as of no consequence because they are ludicrous. Frankly I'm not sure which is the case, though I am inclined to side with the latter over the former."

"Is there not anything we can do to find out for sure? Maybe send some troops to check it out?" Red asks, voice hitching with trepidation that has nothing to do with fear for her own safety or having to don the armor of war. Red is a fearless fighter, has proved so on many occasions. But the thought of sending her people out to battle, to fight and die on her behalf against an enemy whose strength is unknown, is to her an intolerable one. And, more than anything else, she is ever-aware of the witch's threat on Regina's life.

"Not with our forces already stretched thin since the corps stationed nearby was redeployed to Mulan's command on the border." That decision had come a week after Mulan's letter announcing two more villages on Stefan's side had been obliterated by their elusive magic-wielding enemy. It hadn't been an easy one to make, as those troops had standing orders to keep a close eye on Snow and Charming's realm. And if there was any chance those two self-righteous morons might be up to something nefarious, the time to instigate those plans was right now when Regina's eyes were elsewhere. "Best to address the foe we know for a fact is operating in Drakkenhall than to waste resources on what may or may not be a real threat. If you'll recall, we made that decision together," she points out, and not unkindly.

Regina is spared Red's response by a knock on the door that she answers by straightening in her seat before bellowing an affirmative command to enter. Iris strides in seconds later, a little behind schedule, looking slightly harried. In her hand is a silver tray holding two large bell-shaped wine glasses that each contain a generous portion of the castle's finest vintage.

"I'm sorry I'm late, Your Majesties," Iris says, sounding as atypically out of sorts as she looks. "I bumped into someone in the hallway, a redheaded woman I'd never seen before, and nearly lost the tray and it's contents." Her fair face darkens almost imperceptibly. "I stopped a while to question her. Turns out she's new, just got hired onto the custodial staff. Anyway, that's no excuse. I bet your pardon once more, my Queens."

"It's alright, Iris. No harm, no foul," Red says, demeanor warm and accommodating for the maid she would insist is not just that, but her friend.

Both Regina and Red accept their wine with smiles and thanks, though Regina's response is slightly strained by Iris' explanation as to her tardiness. She knows of no new hires amongst the staff, but that is not unusual since Red encourages her to trust more in those to whom she has delegated responsibility instead of micromanaging everything as she is apt to do. Iris, to her credit, says nothing about Regina's reaction except to inquire whether she can be of any further service other than the delivery of their nightly wine.

"No, thank you, Iris," Regina says, still sitting primly while in company other than family or friends as Red nervously worries the surface of her glass. As fond as Regina is of Iris, she cannot seem to lose the distinction between servant and friend ingrained into her from a child by Cora. "You may go." When Iris gives a curt curtsy then immediately begins to leave, Regina feels Red's eyes cut into the side of her head. She sighs. "Wait." And when Iris halts to turn back, adds, "Take the rest of the evening off and don't bother coming in until the afternoon tomorrow. I'd like a lazy morning for once. Both of us could use one, I think."

"Definitely," Red says, looking much more pleased than she did a moment ago. "Have a wonderful evening, Iris. And give John our love, won't you?"

"I will, my Queen," Iris says with effusive gratitude that makes Regina feel a bit better than it probably should. "Thank you both." Whereas Regina nods politely, Red offers Iris one of her big, toothy smiles that could light up the whole castle if she stood in the right place.

With Iris gone, Regina sinks into the cushions of the sofa and blows out a breath. "I'm sorry about before. If I sounded upset or harsh, that wasn't my intent."

Red softly squeezes Regina's hand that she has still yet to surrender. "I know. And I wasn't going to argue. I agreed with your suggestion just like you said and nothing since has changed that. I'm just concerned is all. A witch burning villages in Drakkenhall, rumors of strange men lurking in the lowland forests. I don't like the feel of this one bit."

"Me either," Regina agrees, then takes a sip of her wine. The full texture and smooth flavor go down easy, warming her from the inside out. "Believe me, I wish that underhanded she-devil would just come out swinging already. I'm sick of the games. The waiting is intolerable."

"I know what you mean. There's a tension in the air all the time now. I hate it. It's like waiting for the other shoe to drop. Only when it does, I can't help but feel I'll wish it hadn't."

"As much as I agree, we can't afford to think that way. Negativity breeds defeat, and I'm not about to let this uppity sorceress, whoever she may be, beat me on my own turf. When it comes to fighting fire with fire, I don't lose, darling. You know that."

"Ah, my heroic Midnight Queen!" Red sings, using the title she'd given to Regina long ago. "There is no foe in heaven above or Hades below with whom she will not stand toe-to-toe and prevail."

"Damn straight. And don't go forgetting that any time soon." Smirking, Regina tips her glass to Red, who clinks hers against it with an airy laugh.

"As if I could," Red says after they both take a luxurious drag of their wine. "You're not exactly timid or humble about your martial prowess. Never seen anyone best you with sword or spell, and we have a lot of good fighters and magicians in our arsenal."

Head swirling pleasantly from the alcohol, though it has hit her a little harder and faster than usual tonight, Regina grins darkly. "I just look forward to defending my undisputed title in both against the bitch who killed our friend."

"Hear, hear," Red says, then raises her glass. "To justice for Robin."

Approving of the gesture, Regina raises her glass as well, smile fading into an expression of iron resolve. "To justice for Robin. May it come swiftly and violently. And preferably at the business end of my sword or your furrier half's maw."

"I'll drink to that," Red says, and then they take another gulp of the delicious vintage Iris delivered.

The rest of the evening passes with amiable conversation and a few easy silences that see them leaning against each other while basking in their mutual adoration. They also sneak in more than a few kisses, most of them chaste, though a few get heated, one so much so that Red winds up in Regina's lap before they come to their senses. All too soon, however, the wine collides with Regina as if a sledgehammer descending upon a brittle clay pot, obliterating her senses. Vision blurring, hearing obfuscated, heart suddenly pounding in her ears, she rises unsteadily and nearly collapses straight into the floor.

"Wow," Red says, helping her to stay upright. "That wine sure hit you hard. Weird. Didn't do anything for me." Regina thinks, but is not sure, Red pulls a suspicious face. "Musta just been 'cause you're tired. Let's get you to bed so you can sleep it off."

Regina does not remember much else that comes next except for being wrangled onto the bed, her clothes stripped down to the underwear, and Red's wryly chuckled comment as she is tucked in, "Good thing you gave Iris the morning off. You'll be sleepin' late for sure." Then sheets are pulled up and tucked around her shoulders and all at once, before she can even manage to part her lips to speak, the lights go out.

Once the irresistible darkness claims Regina, she remembers no more.

[yukiwrites]

A Memory That’ll Last

For Chrobinweek2017, Day 3: Halloween and Day 5: Ylisse and Plegia

After Validar's demise as well as any trace of Grima's curse throughout the land, a new era for the grimleal was born: They had to reshape their entire religion now that the Fell Dragon's grip on their minds and bloodlines was no more -- they were finally free.

Plegia, however, was a theocracy, and relied heavily on the church to elect their rulers. Without a solid foundation for themselves, the still-crawling newly reformed church of the Free People had no infrastructure to rule a country.

It being the homeland of his other half, Chrom decided not to annex the land itself, but to temporarily rule over it until they could walk by themselves -- that remained until this day, four years later.

A young toddler cried in the middle of the day, missing his mother. "Ma-ma! Mama!" Morgan sobbed by his father's chest. After Robin came back and took over her queenly duties, she took it upon herself to oversee Plegia's reconstruction -- which meant that, more often than not, she would have to make lengthy expeditions to the sandy country so as to inspect in person.

That was one of those times. "Shhh, Morgan, Daddy's here." Chrom cooed the small boy, slowly bouncing him up and down on his arms, patting the tiny back.

"B-bud Baba...!" The boy cried, his nose so clogged the words leaving his mouth barely made sense.

Chrom took his handkerchief to dry his son's face, urging him to blow his nose after he was done. "I know, Morgan, I also miss her terribly." He whispered, once again hugging the boy and patting the small blue-haired head, his voice soothing with a hint of longing.

He still felt the cold hand of fear creeping through his heart whenever Robin wasn't beside him when he woke up during the night, even if he received news from her every two days.

"Buh..." Morgan cooed, drooling Chrom's shoulder as he gripped at the robe his father was leaning against. "Mama... here."

"Hm?" Chrom raised his neck so as to check what caught Morgan's interest so intently and-- "Ah, of course. Her tactician coat." The Exalt turned to the sofa he was leaning, onto which the robe was on, caressing it with a warm smile. "So many memories imbued onto it."

The day they first met; the first skirmish they fought together; the day he caught her bathing and saw her picking it up to cover herself... the day he proposed. Of course, not every memory they had together could be considered happy ones, but just the time they spent together meant so much more to him, to her... to their children.

Then, an idea dawned on him. "Oh! Morgan, what do you think of having one of those for yourself?" The Exalt beamed, his smile the brightest since Robin left to Plegia.

The toddler tilted his head to the side and had to look from his father to the coat. "Morgan... like Mama?" He pointed from cloth to man, then to himself.

"Yes!" Chrom got up and took a step back from the couch, allowing Morgan to see the coat in its entirety -- it was old and beaten up, but it was his mother’s and it also could be his? How? Feeling the boy bounce on his arm, Chrom nuzzled him, "Daddy will make one for you, my boy! Let's dress you up like your Mama!"

Morgan giggled, then laughed, the high-pitched baby laugh every parent loves to hear and kicked his legs in excitement. "Now? Where!" He asked, grappling his father.

Chrom laughed more, walking to the bed and sitting on it. "Ahaha, I'll try my best to deliver it soon, Morgan, but not now. Do you want to watch as Daddy sews it? I'll start tomorrow during every break I can."

The boy's eyes shone and he nodded vehemently. 'Tomorrow' couldn't come sooner, whenever that was!

Needless to say, Chrom was never good at any work that required patience and good hand-to-eye sync. He didn't want to ask for help since he was the one who came up with the idea (besides, he really did not want to show anyone the atrocity he was doing to the likeness of Robin's coat), but his close aides as well as his sister and daughters noticed the bandages around his fingers increasing with the passing of the days.

"Aha, I gotcha!" Lissa jumped out of a corner in front of her brother one day. "You won't run away this time, Brother! Tell me what're you doing that's hurting you so much! It's GOTTA be something serious." Or super funny, she giggled to herself, a sly smile over her lips.

Chrom felt the tip of his ears redden and raised his chin. "Lissa, for the last time, I am not doing anything. Now, please, I'm busy." He turned on his heel and left, almost running.

The princess clicked her tongue. "Sheesh, where IS he keeping whatever he's doing, anyway? I looked all over his room and nothing, nothing!"

Panting, the Exalt hid inside his sons' room (Morgan liked to share it with Young Morgs whenever he came back from his travels) and closed the door. "Ugh, Lissa's as sharp as ever." He locked the door and turned to the crib where Young Morgan was taking his afternoon nap. "You won't tell her, will you, Morgan?" The Exalt laughed, promptly taking his failure of a project out of one of drawers of the young prince's dresser and going back to work.

Robin was bound to return in three days -- he had to finish it in time to surprise her, be it by making her laugh or to make a new memory.

The first fitting was only a few hours before Robin's scouts reported back, and Morgan started crying of joy. "Mama here!" He sobbed, rubbing his face on Chrom's shoulder.

The Exalt felt his own eyes burn with tears. Look at how happy the boy is, despite his own utter failure in sewing -- it only looked like a crooked crow stitched over a deep purple cloth that was somehow shaped like a coat.

"I'll go fetch Mama, hm? Want to come with Daddy?" He whispered, adjusting the toddler on one of his arms, using his free hand to dry his eyes before he left the room, forgetting Morgan was still wearing the coat.

"Mhm!" The boy replied, lifting both arms. A small tearing sound came from it, but Chrom was too afraid to look, so he just pretended he didn't hear it as he ran towards the front gates. "Like Mama!" Morgan yelled. "Mama!" He bounced as he recognized his mother from the crowd, wearing a spare tactician coat she had.

That made the boy's eyes well up with tears once more. He had the best Papa and Mama in the whole wide world!

[dctcrmination-a-blog]

love. ut chara tag dump.

[keywestlou]

TRUMP.....CLAIMS HE WILL BE REINSTATED IN AUGUST

Trump said yesterday he would be “reinstated” in August.

No formality involved. He intimated he would walk into the Oval Office, sit down and go back to work. Not even an inauguration  ceremony.

I think he’s crazy. Jimmy Kimmel last night labeled him as “delusional.”

Does Trump really believe this stuff? It’s as good as his recommendation to drink Clorox to kill coronavirus.

I suspect his thinking on the subject arises from talks with his enclave of attorneys past and present. One is Sydney Powell. She agrees Trump will be reinstated in August.

Then there is Michael Flynn out there. Yesterday, he was calling for a military style coup. The overthrow of existing government by the U.S. military. He is as crazy as Trump.

It’s amazing. Flynn was a general in the U.S. Army and served as National Security Adviser. Beat the system in the court room. Then pardoned by Trump.

Note that while he is clamoring for the overthrow of government, he is drawing a pension of $100,000 a year from that same government.

Love what the Democratic House members of the Texas Legislature did in walking out and preventing a quorum. Prevented the proposed stringent voting laws to be voted on.

Now it is too late. The legislative session ended by law at midnight friday.

Governor Greg Abbott was upset. Said he was going to call a Special Session. The Democrats would probably walk out again.

The past 48 hours appear to have changed Abbott’s mind. He now claims he will veto a portion of the budget bill that will be coming before him. Specifically, Article 10. The Article provides for legislative expenses. Abbott’s goal is to force the Democrat to remain for a vote, unless they want their salaries cut off.

Abbott can veto Article 10. Has he thought the situation out to its bitter end, however? Such a veto as he suggests would stop Republican members from getting paid also. Forget not legislative staffs. They too will not be paid.

Reparations for the Blacks of Tulsa a questionable item. It does not make sense to me. I doubt it will meet with favor.

Britain’s present Queen Elizabeth was formerly crowned monarch on this day in 1953. She has been Queen for 68 years.

She became Queen at the moment of her father’s death. The first three months following his demise she remain in mourning. Little was seen of her. Though she was performing Queenly duties which could be performed in private.

The three months was followed by a year of performing her duties publicly before she was crowned. The crowning actually a formality.

This afternoon Terri White sings again! From 3-5 a Marylin’s.

Enjoy your day!

  TRUMP…..CLAIMS HE WILL BE REINSTATED IN AUGUST was originally published on Key West Lou

[simwoman2002]

Tipsy Freeze

  “Anna, I don’t know if I can do this,” Anna heard her older sister’s voice sound nearby her. Anna turned her head toward Elsa, taking in the elder’s uncomfortable appearance with her arms crossed protectively in front of her middle. Anna’s eyes softened a bit into the loving expression she always had for Elsa.

  “Of course you can. I know you can,” Anna reassured with a large grin and a thumbs-up. Anna didn’t miss the strange glance Elsa threw at her for that comment.

  Anna knew that particular remark brought back memories. But she didn’t truly think about the depth of the words until she bothered to think of which memories.

  “I don’t know, Anna. The last time we had one of these parties, it didn’t end well. For either of us,” Elsa nervously glanced back over to the redhead. Anna moved so that she was grasping the blonde’s hands in hers. She rested her forehead on Elsa’s.

  “Trust me. I’ll be with you every step of the way, okay? I won’t leave you at all tonight,” Anna promised with a heartfelt smile. In return, she received the warmest mix of emotion that could ever come from a snow queen.

  It was quite ironic, really. The fact that someone like Elsa could be stereotyped as so cold and unfeeling but was actually the polar opposite. In fact, Elsa was quite possibly the warmest and most feeling person Anna had ever had the pleasure of having in her life.

  “I trust you, Anna,” Elsa responded, and Anna could easily see that Elsa meant each word.

  “Good.” Anna then removed her hands from Elsa’s grasp and wrapped her sister in a tender embrace.

  But their moment of solitude and love could not last, for their duties as royals beckoned.

  “Presenting Queen Elsa of Arendelle,” Kai announced loudly to the entirety of the crowd gathered in the ballroom. Elsa took a deep breath and straightened herself, gracefully striding to her position in front of the throne.

  Anna couldn’t help but feel a little envy. Elsa always had such perfect mannerisms and she never was ungraceful. Unlike her sister.

  “Princess Anna of Arendelle,” Kai proclaimed. Anna folded her arms in front of her and tried to mimic Elsa’s leisurely but queenly gait.

  She was doing excellently so far. Anna had exited from the hall stretching beside the ballroom entrance and was gracefully making her way in front of the crowd. She proudly held her head high in her confidence.

  It was such a foreign feeling to Anna. To actually be revered during her bout of refinement. No matter how temporary it may have been.

  Naturally, all awe and respect were dispelled from the crowd around the time that Anna accidentally stepped on her dress and barely avoided falling on her face.

  As she straightened herself, her cheeks were filled with a rosy red coloring and she saw some people chuckling and smirking at her expense.

  Normally, it wouldn’t have bothered her so badly for people to be mirthful at her mishaps, but after feeling so valued and esteemed for once, Anna couldn’t help but feel a bit stripped of something.

  But what truly sent a dagger through her heart was a comment made by a dignitary from the Northern Isles.

  “Thank goodness she wasn’t crowned Queen. Arendelle likely would’ve already fallen to its demise as has so many other countries with fumbling female rulers.” Anna’s eyes filled with hurt, angry tears at the cruel observation. She continued her walk to Elsa’s side until she had finally arrived at her destination.

  “Anna, are you okay?” she heard Elsa tentatively question beside her. Anna swallowed hard, trying to convince her tears to disappear before she found the courage to face her older sister.

  When she though she finally had a good enough hold over it, she turned herself toward the platinum blonde.

  “Oh, I’m fine. Don’t worry. It happens all the time. Clumsy old me,” Anna attempted to dismiss Elsa’s worry with a shaky, self-deprecating laugh. Elsa eyed her strangely and Anna could see the concern in her older sibling’s eyes, but Anna quickly formulated a distraction so that Elsa couldn’t continue questioning her.

  “Hey, Els, look! Chocolate fondue! Let’s go get some,” Anna hastily said, linking her arm in Elsa’s. She knew that simply the touch would distract Elsa for a moment. It was something Elsa was so unused to and yet, after Anna openly showered her with it, she seemed to crave now.

  After a few short moments, the two were at the fondue table and Anna was searching through the various fruits that one could dip into the fountain of chocolate.

  “Ooh, strawberries! I love those,” Anna enthusiastically claimed, gingerly taking one from the bowl and dipping it into the fountain. She then popped it into her mouth, savoring the delectable taste of her favorite fruit mixed with the taste of her favorite food.

  “Aw, my gawsh. Dat ish good!” Anna enthused, her mouth full of food. Anna heard Elsa chuckle a bit.

  “I take it you’re enjoying it?” Elsa coolly questioned with her eyes half-lidded and an eyebrow raised, a casual smirk playing on her lips.

  “Why, yesh, of coursh. I shertainly am,” Anna replied around the delectable treat still stuffed in her cheeks.

  “You’d better stop stuffing your face, because you and a chipmunk have a frighteningly similar countenance at this point,” Elsa teased. Anna swallowed it all in one gulp, throwing a playful glare in Elsa’s direction.

  “The Princess of Arendelle as a chipmunk?! How dare you?” Anna faked being offended at Elsa’s comment.

  “Well, you are what you are,” Elsa factually responded.

  “Wow. That’s prophetic,” Anna shot back with a smirk.

  “My, my, Princess Anna. Ever the chocolate lover, eh?” the dignitary from the Northern Isles snidely observed with a cruel smile set thinly across his slightly aged face.

  Anna turned her gaze toward him, trepidation and hurt reflecting in her eyes. She knew that he wouldn’t succeed in saying that many offensive remarks since they were in Elsa’s presence, but she couldn’t help but doubt a bit.

  “My sister certainly enjoys her sweets. But don’t we all?” Elsa conversationally piped up. To anyone else, she would have sounded cordial, but Anna easily read the guarded undertone of her reply. Anna was torn between wanting to thank her sister and feeling a bit angry at the fact that Elsa was more important than her in that she could defend the younger with more ease than Anna could herself.

  “Indeed, your majesty,” the man responded with a small smile that was stretched across his visage in more of a grimace. As the man turned away, Anna barely picked up his last words.

  “Almost pig-like, wouldn’t you agree?” he murmured to the French ambassador alongside him. They both shared a loud laugh at that comment. Anna felt her stomach clench tightly at the statement, and she looked down at her hands forlornly.

  In just a few seconds, she felt Elsa’s hand on the side of her face, stroking Anna’s cheek gently with her thumb.

  “Anna, look at me,” Elsa gently commanded. Anna hesitantly raised her gaze to meet that of her older sister’s.

  She was met with the warm yet barely controlled angry stare of Elsa.

  “None of what that,” Elsa paused for a moment, seemingly collecting her emotions in an attempt to grasp better control of them, “man… said was true.”

  Anna nodded, looking back down at her feet quickly.

  “If you don’t mind, Els, I’m just going to go to the bathroom for a second. Y’know… To get cleaned up a bit,” Anna dejectedly murmured, her voice barely above a whisper.

  “Okay, Sunshine,” Elsa replied. She then smiled sadly yet lovingly and kissed Anna’s forehead.

  Anna allowed a ghost of a smile to grace her lips and then she turned to go to the restroom.

  She combed through a few groups of people and finally made it into the hall at the edge of the ballroom. Anna then sadly trudged to the room that happened to be right in front of her.

  Just as she was about to turn the doorknob, she looked down and saw something wet on the floor.

  She looked a bit closer and decided that someone must’ve spilled their water. Moving past this revelation, Anna then opened the door and quietly locked it behind her.  

  Just as she stepped in, Anna lost her footing and crashed to the floor, landing on her rear end hard.

  “Ow,” Anna stated as she tried to stand back up. Immediately, she started trying to slip.

  “Woah, woah, woah!” Anna cried, grabbing the sink with her hands while desperately attempting to keep her feet planted firmly.

  She watched out of the corner of her eye as her feet began to slowly slide backwards.

  “Oh, no,” she whispered, staring wide-eyed at her previously upright legs moved so that her body was straight. She held onto the sink with a death grip, absently noting the fact that her knuckles were turning white as Elsa’s snow.

  “Please, don’t!” she squeaked, shutting her eyes as tightly as she could and clung to the porcelain of the basin.

  When she opened her eyes finally after several moments, questioning why she didn’t feel like she was slipping anymore, she realized that her feet had hit the wall.

  “Oh, thank goodness,” she breathed. Anna looked up at her reflection, taking a quick assessment of what she looked like.

  She saw that, aside from her slightly bloodshot eyes, she looked just like she always did.

  Anna exhaled in relief, allowing her grip on the sink to loosen. Just as she realized her mistake, however, her hands slipped from the sink and she landed on the ground.

  “Ouch.”

  ………………………………………………………………………………………………………

     Anna finally emerged from the bathroom after many minutes of toiling and trying to pull herself out of the bathroom along with placing towels on the floor.

  She quietly crossed the hall and peeked into the ballroom.

  It hadn’t changed at all from when she had left it, and everyone seemed just as merry as they were before. She couldn’t help but wryly note that no one ever noticed her presence. If she wanted, she could just disappear upstairs and go to bed early without anybody noticing.

  But she had a job to do. She had to make sure that Elsa felt comfortable in the foreign presence of the large crowd and the overwhelming volume of conversation and music.

  Anna lifted herself up on the tips of her toes, attempting to see her sister’s telltale platinum blonde hair through the thickness of the crowd.

  Anna suddenly heard a hearty laugh that she immediately recognized. She turned her head quickly in the direction of the mirthful noise. Her eyes widened as she spotted Elsa laughing and enjoying herself among several complete strangers.

  Anna immediately knew something wasn’t right with her sister. Elsa never laughed like that unless it was just her and Anna.

  She treaded the edge of the crowd, making her way to Elsa and the foreign dignitaries. When she finally got there, she walked up right behind Elsa and extended her hand.

  “Uh… Elsa? Are you okay?” Anna asked albeit hesitantly, poking her sister’s shoulder. She was then faced with the grinning face of Elsa.

  “Anna!” Elsa almost shouted. Anna’s eyes widened as she peered into the eldest’s eyes. “Have I told you how much I love you today?” The blonde furrowed her brow. “Well, not just today, but every day!” The ridiculous smile returned to her countenance.

  “You’re acting strange…” Elsa threw an arm over Anna’s shoulder, giggling a bit, and Anna caught the scent of what she identified as grape juice mixed with something else that was strange and different. Anna glanced at the hand attached to the arm that wasn’t flung around her. In its grasp was a cup of purple-black liquid.

  “Well, as you know, I’m a funny uncle!” Elsa claimed, cackling loudly. Anna face-palmed in embarrassment, becoming increasingly confused at her sister’s strange behavior.

  “Elsa, do you even understand the implications of that?” Anna whispered, trying desperately to ensure that nobody had heard Elsa’s weirdness.

  “Woah, dude! You’re starting to sound like me!” Elsa suddenly stated incredulously, her eyes wide and the corners of her lips quirked a bit.

  “Yeah, now pay attention. What have you been doing and how did you end up like this?” Anna questioned as patiently as she could muster. Elsa then got a confused look on her face.

  “Like what?”

  “Like you are right now,” Anna clarified a bit. She watched as Elsa’s bottom lip began to quiver and her eyes were becoming glassy with tears.

  “Do you not like who I am?” Elsa’s voice wavered, and Anna realized she was on the verge of tears. Anna’s eyes went wide and she grabbed Elsa’s hands.

  “No, no, no, no, no! I absolutely love who you are, Elsa. It’s okay.” As quickly as Anna confessed those words, Elsa immediately returned to the happy, goofy persona she had just a few seconds ago.

  “I love you, too, knucklehead,” Elsa expressed with a lopsided smile.

  Anna returned the grin albeit skeptically. She then turned around and rushed off to find Kristoff.

  The redhead glanced all around the thick crowd of dignitaries and various royals. She had to find Kristoff. Elsa was acting really abnormal. Not that she wasn’t abnormal in some sense of the word, but Anna considered that sort of abnormal normal.

  Her head was beginning to spin at all of the abnormal normality.

  Suddenly, in a shift of the crowd, Anna spotted shaggy dirty blonde hair.

  Anna began to make her way through, squeezing between people.

  “Excuse me. Oh, pardon me!” Anna sheepishly grinned in an attempt to provide some sort of apology when she received some indignant, snooty looks.

  “Kristoff!” Anna furiously whispered, trying to get his attention. She rolled her eyes in exasperation when she failed to get any response.

  “Kristoff!” Anna whispered again, trying to get closer to him. Finally, he happened to turn his head in her direction. She waved her hands above her head in a crazed manner, trying to get him to come over and meet her halfway.

  His eyes widened a bit and he sat his drink down on the table and began trying to scoot past people to Anna’s location.

  Once he was finally there, Anna immediately began a long stream of speech.

  “Good gosh, it takes forever to get your attention. Anyways, I need to talk to you about this situation I’ve got!” Barely pausing to take a breath, Anna lurched into her worrisome tale.

  “Okay, so Elsa was really, really nervous when we were first getting announced. Y’know, the whole ‘Queen Elsa of Arendelle and Princess Anna of Arendelle’ and all that good stuff.

  “So after that, I was kind of insulted in a roundabout way and when I left her alone for just a second because I had to go to the bathroom to freshen up she, of course, said it was okay. I mean, you don’t come between a girl and her looking in the mirror, you know what I mean?

  “So it took longer than I anticipated, like twenty minutes give or take for things that I’d really prefer not to get into right now…” Anna paused for just a moment, allowing herself a shudder in horror of the remembrance of her fiasco with the slippery flooring and the impossibility to walk.

  “Anywho, when I got back, Elsa’s talking to some boring folks from somewhere like Denmark or Sweden or England or something which is no surprise, of course. I mean, they probably tracked her down. But the real kicker is that she was actually laughing. And I don’t mean her usual polite chuckle she uses with everybody but me.

  “So when I got to where she was at and I asked her if she was okay, she turns around and starts loudly voicing how much she loves me and even said something about a,” Anna leaned a little closer to Kristoff so that no one would hear her next words, “funny uncle.” Kristoff’s eyes were increasingly resembling saucers.

  “And then when I asked her why in the world she was acting so strange, she got all emotional! So after all this weirdness, I decided I’d ask you if you had a clue what in the world is going on with her?” Anna finally finished her long uninterrupted ramble. She watched as Kristoff furrowed his brow and stroked his chin.

  After a few moments, a look of recognition sprung onto his face and he locked gazes with Anna.

  “Anna, did you happen to see if she was drinking anything?” Kristoff questioned albeit hesitantly. Anna thought for a moment.

  “Actually… Yes, I noticed she had a glass of grape juice in her hand when I came back to the party…” Kristoff nodded his head, a grim look on his face. Anna raised an eyebrow. “Does that matter?” Anna asked curiously.

  “Anna, I don’t think that Elsa drank grape juice.”

  “Well, what do you think she drank then, beverage expert?” Anna requested, trying to keep her patience at Kristoff’s strange behavior and seeming dread of her question.

  “Elsa drank wine,” Kristoff finally said, telling Anna plainly. Anna’s eyes widened in shock.

  “Oh, no….”    Then all of Elsa’s weirdness made sense. The wine must have been the strange scent she smelled in the midst of the grape juice scent.

  Anna knew exactly what wine did. It was not something that anyone should drink. She had read plenty enough books to know that if someone drank it and didn’t have a very good tolerance for it, they would act completely opposite of themselves. Or rather, some parts of their personalities were magnified as well as any mood swing they had.

  “I’ve got to go back and make sure she doesn’t do anything stupid!” Anna exclaimed, turning around and pushing through the crowd as well as she could.

  At this point, she wasn’t even really thinking about the fact that she just left Kristoff in the middle of the crowd by himself. She was too worried about what might happen if Elsa continued to act like she was.

  She got on the tips of her toes, trying to see over all the people. She was suddenly cursing her decision to not wear heels.

  Anna tried to see if Elsa was in the same vicinity as where she left her. Unfortunately, her view was blocked when a tall man stepped back a bit. She huffed in aggravation. Anna pushed through the crowd more and started moving as fast as she could.

  Finally, she burst out of the crowd. She dusted her dress off a bit, trying to rid herself of the various foreign stinks from all of the strange people of the ball. Anna then immediately sprung into action, trying to find Elsa.

  “Have I ever told you boys about the time I caught my sister and her boyfriend-” Anna’s eyes widened in horror and she rushed over to Elsa. Anna grabbed her sister’s arm and yanked her so that Elsa was standing beside her.

  “Hello, gentleman, I need to borrow Queen Elsa. See you!” Anna smiled nervously, waving a bit before dragging Elsa away.

  “Hey, Anna! Oh, wait, I need to tell you something,” Anna’s eyes widened in dread. She had a feeling that what Elsa was going to say was not socially acceptable. And they weren’t that far from the gathering Elsa had been talking to.

  “That guy over there’s a drag queen!” Elsa proclaimed in a loud whisper. A very loud whisper, Anna couldn’t help but note. Anna slapped her face with a hand and groaned. She tried desperately to avoid glancing over at the group. Elsa then began pointing.

  “You see him, Anna? He’s the big, fat one over there with the elephant nose!” Elsa whispered at the same volume as before. “I think he’s a man dressed like a woman.”

  “Elsa, I know what a drag queen is. And that lady is not a drag queen.”

  “You mean it’s a really ugly woman?!” Elsa exclaimed, completely foregoing all semblances of quiet.

  “Shh!!!” Anna shushed, trying to get Elsa to quiet down. Elsa giggled and shushed back.

  “Come on, we need to get you out of here, Els,” Anna insisted, tightening her hold on Elsa’s arm.

  “But the party’s just begun! Besides, I found some tasty grape juice and I think I’m gonna go get me some more…” Elsa started to tug against her. Anna kept her feet firmly planted against the hardwood floor.

  “Elsa, you’ve been drinking wine.”

  “No!” Elsa adamantly disagreed. Then she suddenly got a strange look on her face. “Wait… Really?” she asked, seeming much more reasonable and Elsa-like. Anna exhaled in relief, seeing light at the end of the tunnel.

  “Yes, you have. And you really need to get out of here because we don’t need you saying inappropriate things to all these people in this party.”

  And just like that, Elsa’s lapse of sanity disappeared.

  “What?! Inappropriate? I’m the perfect picture of proprienty. Proprenty. Proprety. Propriety!” Elsa struggled with the words. Anna rolled her eyes.

  “Elsa, you called somebody a drag queen just a second ago,” Anna reminded her with a bit of a groan.

  “Oh, yeah. Hey, there it is over there!” Elsa started pointing again.

  “Elsa, stop doing that!” Anna hissed, grabbing Elsa’s hand. Elsa pulled her hand out of the younger’s grasp, threw her arm over Anna’s shoulder, and gave her a sloppy kiss on the cheek.

  “You’re so cute when you’re a little angry bird.”

  “Come on, you big goof, let’s go.”

   “Wait, wait, wait! I need a sip of the magic juice!” Elsa grabbed a cup off of a passing servant’s tray and immediately downed it. What followed was a thunderous belch that Anna didn’t believe she’d ever hear Elsa do. “Whew, that was good!” Anna looked around in embarrassment and saw that several people were watching the inebriated queen and whispering amongst themselves.

  “Elsa, act queenly!” Anna pleaded, grabbing Elsa’s hands in her own. Elsa’s eyes widened and she burst into a wide grin.

  “Why didn’t you say so?! Hey, and I got another idea.” Elsa beckoned Anna closer. “Let’s pretend you’re a princess, too!” Elsa whispered, acting like it was the best idea in the world.

  “That’s a great idea, Els,” Anna humored her sister, playing along with Elsa’s drunken inklings.

  “Cool beans.” Elsa then straightened up, linking her arm in Anna’s and stumbling forward a bit. She giggled at her obvious mishap in walking.

  “Let us go, Princess. We’re single and ready to mingle.” Elsa walked along clumsily and Anna held onto her arm tightly so that the older girl wouldn’t fall. Elsa dragged them over to a small group of royals from various countries.

  “What is vibrating, breakfast dish of pork?” Elsa said in an overly eccentric voice. The little hope that Anna had for Elsa’s queenly act was completely gone with that statement.

  “I thought you said that you were going to act queenly,” Anna whispered in Elsa’s ear.

  “I am.” Anna rolled her eyes, but decided to give Elsa another chance. After all, it wouldn’t be appropriate if the queen hosting the ball suddenly disappeared. And people certainly didn’t seem to appreciate a lowly princess hosting it, Anna couldn’t help but note albeit bitterly.

  “So how’s the party, gents?” Elsa’s eyes widened as a servant passed with a tray of wine. Elsa quickly snagged and guzzled one before Anna could stop her. Anna huffed in aggravation.

  “Everything is quite well with us, your majesty. Your party is beautifully well-organized,” a mustachioed man complimented. Anna’s face fell a bit. Elsa hadn’t fashioned the party. It had been Anna that organized the arrangements.

  “I ‘ppreciate the kudos, but the real mastermind was the ‘Princess’ here,” Elsa emphasized the title Princess and winked at Anna. Anna then remembered that Elsa thought they were pretending to be Queen and Princess. Anna winked back, trying to appear natural in a situation that was completely unnatural.

  “Well, you have fashioned an excellent party, your highness.” Anna recoiled in surprise, not really expecting the commendation.

  “Oh! Thank you. It really was nothing,” Anna grinned widely, allowing herself to revel in the praise. In the midst of her flattery, Anna was also given the satisfaction that possibly Elsa wasn’t as intoxicated as she had originally thought. After all, Elsa seemed to remember who planned the party.

  “Please excuse us, fellas, I gotta run real quick,” Elsa suddenly proclaimed, pulling Anna behind her as she reached for a glass of wine on a nearby table.

  “Elsa! Don’t drink that!” Anna hissed, trying to take the drink from her. Soon Elsa was going to be completely wasted and considering how badly she was behaving when barely drunk, Anna dreaded seeing her any worse.

  But, using her height to her advantage, Elsa leaned away from Anna and slurped the cup down her throat. She hiccupped a bit, giggling at herself shortly thereafter.

  Then, before Anna could think, Elsa had another glass of wine and guzzled it as well. Elsa grinned, and Anna could practically see the transformation from semi-herself to completely not herself.

  “Elsa, don’t you drink another glass,” Anna scolded, just as Elsa grabbed another. Anna’s eyes widened and before Elsa could down that cup as well, Anna snagged it and sucked out all the contents.

  The taste that hit her throat was indescribable. It was the nastiest beverage she’d ever had the displeasure of drinking. Anna hacked and coughed, trying to get the horrid taste out of her mouth.

  Once the burn had mostly dissipated, Anna exasperatedly turned to her pouting older sister.

  “You drank ma booze.”

  “Elsa, you can’t drink booze.”

  “But I like it ‘cause,” Elsa whined. Then she suddenly burst out into boisterous song.

  “I love booze! Booze loves me! Holy crap,” she leaned closer to Anna and whispered, “I think I gots to pee!” Anna face-palmed in exasperation. “I’m feelin’ kinda woozy, might pass out on the floor, alcoholic matador!” Elsa burst out laughing at the last line for what Anna assessed was absolutely no reason at all.

  “Elsa, be quiet!” Anna grabbed her sister’s wrists, pulling her a bit closer. Elsa giggled a bit, leaning close so that her nose was touching the redhead’s.

  “Wow, you got pretty eyes. I wish I had blue eyes,” Elsa breathed in Anna’s face and grinned dopily. Anna rolled her eyes.

  “Elsa, you do have blue eyes,” she reminded her. The look of shock that crossed Elsa’s face was almost comical.

  “For reals?” Elsa questioned, her eyes filled with childlike wonder.

  “For reals. Now we’ve got to get a game plan,” Anna said, partially to herself as she was looking around the room, trying to devise some way to smuggle Elsa out of the ballroom so that she’d just mysteriously disappear.

  “OH! I love games. I’ll be you and you be me,” Elsa replied. Anna shook her head and rolled her eyes.

  “Elsa, I’ve got a different thing to try. Let’s play the silent game,” Anna diverted, only halfway paying attention as a plan started to formulate inside of her mind.

  “You already sound like borin’ ol’ me,” Elsa said with a smile. Anna nodded her head, barely listening.

  “Y’know, I wish I could be like you,” Elsa suddenly sadly admitted. Anna’s head snapped in Elsa’s direction quickly, her eyes a bit wide. “You’re so fun and openly loving. I’m just not no good at that stuff. Especially touchy-feely stuff.” Anna eyed Elsa in shock.

  Anna couldn’t believe that Elsa truly wished she could be like her. Anna had always wished she were more like Elsa. But for Elsa to wish she was like Anna? That was quite possibly the greatest honor that could ever be bestowed upon Anna.

  “Hey, there’s the drag queen!” Elsa nearly shouted. Well…. That moment was completely ruined.

  Anna’s eyes widened at the sudden exclamation and she clamped a hand over Elsa’s mouth.

  She grinned guiltily at the sight of the poor lady that Elsa continued to insult. The woman was eyeing the pair quite infuriatedly.

  Anna dragged Elsa off in the direction of Kristoff in an attempt to not only avoid the wrath of the angry woman but to also begin executing her escape plan.

  “Anna? Hey, Anna?” Anna turned to look at the older woman that she was dragging along.

  “Ya wanna dance?” Elsa had one eyebrow raised, her signature smirk gracing her features, and one eyelid drooping lower than the other. Overall, it looked frighteningly ridiculous.

  “Ah, no,” Anna replied shortly, continuing to tug. Elsa cackled and grabbed Anna’s arm with her free hand.

  “C’mon, jus’ a tango. I heard the spicy salsa music playin’ over here. Or wassat polka?” Elsa slurred, contemplating the words. Anna finally saw Kristoff again and she waved, trying to get his attention as her sister’s weight became gradually harder to bear.

  “Anna, ya look like a chicken with th’ faceova monkey,” Elsa giggled, and Anna was suddenly really dreading trying to get her to sleep when she was finally able to escape the party.

  This time, he picked up on Anna’s insane hand gestures immediately and rushed over.

  When Anna looked at Elsa, the older one had the most mortified and freaked out look Anna had ever seen on any drunk’s face. Of course, Elsa was the only drunk she’d ever seen.

  “Anna, it’s a funky lookin’ donkey. Since I love ya, I suggest ya run. I’ll dissitract ‘em,” Elsa whispered loudly and stumbled into Kristoff’s arms. He caught her with a bewildered look on his face.

  “Hey, good lookin’, goin’ ma way?” Elsa flirted, clearly trying to follow through with some half-witted plan she had stewing in her addled brain.

  Anna would’ve laughed at Kristoff’s glowing beet-red face if it wouldn’t have been for the circumstances at hand.

  “You’s a fine young man with a hair fulla mop. A mop fulla hair,” Elsa continued to struggle with the proper sequencing of the words.

   Anna decided she couldn’t take it anymore and she covered her mouth with a hand, snorting. Kristoff was delicately trying to remove Elsa from his grasp and pass her back over to Anna.

  Once he finally succeeded, Anna settled on wrapping her arm around Elsa’s waist to prevent any more trouble.

  “Anna! Yer still here! I think my suave attempts at flirtating aren’t workin’. He’s kinda ugly an’ it’s killin’ ma vibe,” Elsa said to Anna, her voice slightly hushed. Anna rolled her eyes and hoped that Kristoff hadn’t gotten too offended.

  “Now that that’s over. Kristoff, I need you to help me with this problem I’ve got,” Anna gave Elsa a pointed stare. The tall ice harvester eyed her in slight horror.

  “I need you to let Sven into the party as a distraction. At this point, I think it’s best that the party’s ruined because I can’t let Elsa go on like this.

  “Anna, are you sure that’s a good idea?”

  “Kristoff, don’t you think that Elsa acting out while drunk is going to ruin her image more than a reindeer wrecking a party at the royal castle will?” Kristoff huffed in response. Anna glanced at her sister, who was turning her head and looking at all the people.

  “I gotta go,” Elsa suddenly stated. Anna eyed her strangely.

  “Where do you have to go to?”

  “I gotta visit John,” Elsa retorted as if it was the most blatantly obvious thing in the world.

  “And who is John?” Anna questioned, raising an eyebrow in complete confusion.

  “He’s a latrine,” Elsa said. Anna’s eyes widened in horror. Kristoff met her gaze, and Anna could see the disgust and worry in his as well.

  “Well, methinks we need to visit John. You got this?” Anna inquired. Kristoff nodded curtly once and turned quickly to slip out of the party. Anna exhaled in relief, and began to make her way to the nearest restroom.

  Just as she reached the doorway, Elsa decided that everything from the waist down was inoperable.

  “Elsa, come on, would you? Haul your rear end in here,” Anna grounded out at the sudden dead weight that she found herself pulling.

  “Can’t. Ma legs are larger than life an’ gravity’s pullin’ ‘em down,” Elsa mumbled, giggling a bit. Anna growled lowly, narrowing her eyes in irritation as she repositioned her grasp to Elsa’s arms.

  “I think it’s time to try defying gravity and stand up,” Anna claimed pulling upwards as hard as she could. Elsa simply stayed lying on the floor.

  “Fine,” Anna said, giving up and dropping Elsa’s arms. “If you want to lay there on the floor for the rest of the night, that’s your problem. I’m going to go do something better.” Anna began to walk off until something suddenly snagged her foot and she landed on her face.

  She whipped her head around from her grounded position and saw Elsa’s pale white hand holding onto her ankle.

  “Don’t leave me!!! I’ll behave like a good lil’ monkey. Just help me up,” Elsa promised, reaching out with both hands towards Anna. Anna blew a lock of hair out of her face exasperatedly.

  “Okay,” Anna consented, lifting herself up and hopping to her feet. She crouched beside Elsa and wrapped her arm around the eldest’s waist, lifting upward.

  Betwixt the both of them, Elsa staggered to her feet.

  “Victory!” Elsa whooped loudly shaking her closed fist in the air. Anna looked around nervously, hoping no one heard Elsa’s yelling.

  Anna then guided her to the bathroom, where she tried to instruct Elsa on what to do.

  “Okay, so you know the drill, right?” Anna questioned, feeling really awkward having to explain things to a twenty-one-year-old woman.

  “Yup,” Elsa replied, her eyes half-lidded. They stood there awkwardly staring at each other.

  “Uh, you need me to go?” Anna questioned, trying to escape the situation.

  “Nah, you can stay.” They stood there a bit longer.

  “Well, are you going to… you know?” Anna inquired concernedly, hoping that she really didn’t have to fully explain the functioning of things like that.

  “I am,” Elsa replied. Anna’s eyes widened in shock and horror. “I’m visitin’ him right now. I like ‘em a lot and I wanted to make sure he was okay while I was gone,” Elsa stated, and patted the water tank part of the toilet. Anna let out a breath she didn’t realize she’d been holding.

  “Oooooookaaaay, Elsa…. I think that the toilet-”

  “John.”

  “Er, John… Is okay now. Let’s go upstairs and visit Mr. Fluffykins the bedspread,” Anna redirected, grabbing Elsa’s shoulders and guiding her out.

  “Yay!”

  Anna paused for a moment when they were parallel to the ballroom doorway. She craned her neck so she could see what was going on in the room.

  People were flailing around and Sven was rushing all around the room, knocking over tables and happily grunting and braying loudly.

  “Now thassa party!” Elsa exclaimed, trying to run out of Anna’s grasp to go join.

  “Stop, stop, stop!” Anna maintained her grasp on Elsa’s shoulders and repositioned the blonde so that she was now looking in the direction of the stairs.

  “Aww…. Can’t I have a lil’ bit of fun?” Elsa whined, her bottom lip protruding in an adorable pout.

  “You’re going to bed before anything else happens,” Anna answered factually. Elsa gave the ballroom one last longing look before they continued.

  “Look, Els, I’ll tuck you in and everything, okay?” Elsa then visibly brightened.

  “Really?!”

  “Really, really.”

  Anna pushed her to the staircase and wrapped her arm tightly around Elsa’s waist while grasping the railing firmly with her free hand.

  “You ready?” Anna asked, glancing at Elsa.

  “I was born ready,” Elsa proclaimed with a wide toothy grin, flinging her arm around Anna’s neck.

  “Alright,” Anna agreed and began trying to haul her sister up the stairs.

   ………………………………………………………………………………………………………

     “Hold on just a sec. I gotta rest,” the redhead huffed, letting go of her sister and plopping down on the floor near the wall between her and Elsa’s room doors. She leaned her head back against the wall, shutting her eyes for a moment.

  “Ooh.” Anna suddenly heard Elsa sound off. Shortly thereafter was a loud crash.

  Anna’s eyes shot open and she looked at Elsa who was sprawled out on the ground with shards of an antique vase that their mother had loved laying beneath her.

  “Oww,” Elsa whined, lifting herself up and her eyes welling up with tears. Anna rushed over and knelt down beside her, grabbing her shoulders and inspecting her front for any glass shards poking out of her.

  While Anna was searching, she suddenly heard Elsa giggle.

  “Hee, hee. I gots a boo-boo on ma finger.” Anna raised her gaze to Elsa’s hand.

  A piece of glass was protruding disgustingly from Elsa’s thin finger. Anna reached for Elsa’s hand and gently plucked it from the appendage.

  “Ouch!” Elsa yelped. Anna stood up and took Elsa’s wrists, pulling her up.

  “Let’s get you to bed, Elsa,” Anna said, peering into Elsa’s face.

  To Anna’s surprise, Elsa’s face was more green than her normal pale skin tone.

  “I don’t feel well,” Elsa suddenly claimed, more clearly than Anna had heard all night. That meant that Elsa must be sobering.

  “Okay. Let’s go to bed and if you need to puke, let me know. I’ll get something for you,” Anna reassured her as she began to guide Elsa in the direction of the Queen’s room.

  “Do you think we could go to your room instead?” Elsa questioned tentatively.

  Anna noticed that Elsa still looked by all means as if she were drunk. Especially since she was staggering a bit and couldn’t seem to stay fully upright. Anna absently wondered if Elsa would remember anything about this night at all.

  “Sure,” Anna replied, and they turned to continue to Anna’s room.

  Before long, Anna had helped Elsa slip on a green nightgown and had her tucked in Anna’s bed.

  Anna kissed Elsa’s forehead.

  “I love you, Els,” Anna expressed, smiling warmly.

  “I think the roles have reversed,” Elsa mumbled, her words barely intelligible. Anna giggled a bit.

  “You get some rest,” Anna said, starting to rise from her seated position on the bed.

  “Wait, Anna,” Elsa suddenly pleaded. Anna resettled herself.

  “Aren’t ya gonna stay with me?” Elsa questioned, her eyes wide and her hands clutching the top of the comforter. Overall, Anna couldn’t help but acknowledge just how cutely innocent and childlike Elsa looked.

  Anna looked up at the doorway and sighed in resignation, discarding her previous idea of checking on Kristoff.

  She turned back to Elsa with a happy smile.

  “Of course,” Anna agreed, nodding her head subtly along with her affirmation.

  She quickly changed into her nightgown and slid into bed with Elsa.

  “G’night,” Elsa murmured as she snuggled close to Anna.

  “Goodnight, Elsa.”

  ………………………………………………………………………………………………………

     “Oh, gosh,” Elsa groaned as she opened her eyes. She hissed and quickly closed them back.

  Her head was absolutely throbbing with pain and at this point, the memories of the previous day were quite foggy.

  “Good morning. How are you feeling?” Elsa heard a chipper voice inquire amiably. Elsa barely opened one eye to see her sister.

  “I feel like death,” she groggily rumbled as she felt Anna lean closer to take her temperature.

  “Whew, your morning breath smells like death, too,” Anna suddenly claimed. Elsa chuckled lowly, but quickly became solemn in wake of her growing curiosity surrounding the events of yesterday night.

  “What happened last night, Anna? Why do I feel so terrible? My head’s killing me and the sun is baking my eyes alive when I open them.”

  “Oh! I should probably draw the curtains. Give me a second.” Elsa heard Anna shuffle across the floor and after a moment, she noticed the light grow dimmer from behind her eyelids.

  She carefully cracked open her eyes, adjusting to the light of her surroundings.

  She watched as Anna resettled herself on the edge of the bed.

  “And as for what happened, I was going to ask if you remember,” Anna questioned with a sly grin.

  Elsa was silent, attempting to piece back together the scattered memories from the previous night. After only a few seconds, everything reconnected.

  “Oh, no,” Elsa moaned, covering her face with both hands.

  Insulting Northern Isles man, drag queen, repeated cups of wine guzzled, John. Elsa remembered every last detail and found herself utterly mortified.

  “Yeah, last night was rough,” Anna agreed sympathetically. “Lots of interesting things happened last night that I’d really like to never have happen again.” Anna quieted and at least in Elsa’s perception, seemed to be contemplating something. Judging by her depressed countenance, Elsa assumed that it was most likely thoughts about the dignitary from the Northern Isles.

  Elsa quietly reflected on what she assumed Anna was considering.

  Elsa truly despised it when people underestimated Anna’s capabilities as a royal and as a princess. Contrary to most people’s beliefs, Anna was exceedingly intelligent. She had proved it to Elsa time and time again when Elsa attempted to teach her something new.

  What bothered Elsa most was the fact that people judged Anna by her clumsy, silly mannerisms and her sometimes strange quirks. While most people didn’t converse regularly with paintings or trip over the same rug three times in a row, it didn’t make Anna any less great than everyone else.

  However, Elsa knew that, despite Anna’s laughter at her own mistakes, the younger girl was sometimes truly embarrassed and hurt by other people laughing at her. She also knew that the Northern Isles’ ambassador had offended and upset Anna terribly. And Elsa didn’t intend to allow her sister to continue letting him wound her.

  “Anna, I want to tell you something,” Elsa finally murmured after several moments of silence.

  “Hmm?” Anna shifted her gaze so that she was staring into Elsa’s eyes.

  “You’re not… Inferior to me or anyone else in any way,” Elsa confessed. She watched as Anna’s eyes averted from her own for just a second before resuming eye contact. “You’re quite possibly one of the most heartfelt, caring, funny, talented people that I have ever had the pleasure of knowing and loving. Don’t let one idiot stop you from knowing that.”

  Elsa watched as Anna silently processed this, looking down at her hands for a moment. When she looked back up at Elsa, the eldest girl saw tears shining in the redhead’s eyes.

  The blonde sucked in a breath a bit and hesitantly opened her arms, pushing past her insecurities and worries to do something that both her sister and herself would enjoy greatly. After only a few seconds, Elsa quickly found the redhead pressed against her in a tight embrace. Elsa snaked her arms around her baby sister, drawing her closer.

  “Thank you, Elsa,” she heard Anna murmur. Elsa nodded her head in acknowledgement.

  “I’m simply stating the truth,” Elsa replied. She held her sister for a few more moments until Anna finally spoke up, a teasing tone to her voice and Elsa could practically hear the mischievous smile that went with it.

  “Hey, Els, would you like to go with me to visit John?”

  “Oh, gosh, no.”

[singing-water]

your-queenly-demise replied to your photo: Because this was my night. #pixiecut

You’re reminding me of Astro Boy hahah

ahahaha! omg, I can actually see it.

[time-lady-swag]

your-queenly-demise replied to your post: I’ve finally started watching something that I’ve...

Congratulations. Welcome to a world of new hurts.

[blodraina]

your-queenly-demise replied to your post: A rant about OUAT 2x07

I think its safe to say he has two mommies. Not to crap on your post or anything, cause I understand, and I cant stand Charming most of the time. But Im sure Henry considers both Regina and Emma his moms.

I bet he does. But that doesn't give Charming the right to say "He'll never see his mom again." HE considers only Emma as Henry's mom. And that's what's so terribly wrong here. I don't want to belittle Emma's position in Henry's life but for Charming Regina is obviously just some babysitter in his eyes. That he his actually her son he doesn't care about. And I love Emma but last season she only acted as a mother in 1x21 when she made the decision to leave Henry and accepted Regina as the mother and just wanted visitation rights and in 1x22 when both Regina and Emma tried to save Henry. She is his biological mother. Of course she is and she'll always be that. But she has acted more like his big sister or "cool aunt" than a mother towards him in S1. That doesn't mean that she doesn't love him or anything and there is no way someone can turn on a full-mommy button and no one would blame her for that but there is also no way that Regina who is his actual mother can just accept a stranger to walk into her son's life and basically take him away. Considering the circumstances she did handle the situation pretty well, even though she gets crap about it from all sides, but seriously how would anyone react in this situation. And she did allow Henry to see Emma (she knew about all of their meetings and even though she wasn't happy about it clearly she didn't do anything against it most of the time). Anyway, I'm just really pissed off about Charming this season. He's never been my favourite but he's working his way up to the top of my most disliked characters list pretty quickly and with a steady pace. I don't see how he would be a "good" guy at all. He wasn't as David Nolan and I think the closest he came to being one was in FTL. But even then he was never tested to actually prove his "goodness". And they can't want to make him a "hero" when there is only proof of the contrary. He is behaving terribly. He is being self-righteous, judgmental, unsympathetic and frankly he is being a huge ass. I don't even want to talk about his behaviour in 2x05.

[hartcondition]

your-queenly-demise replied to your post: your-queenly-demise replied to your post:...

No explanation needed.

Thank you, for I had none.

[b0bbynash]

your-queenly-demise replied to your post: i morphed matt smith and lisa edelstein together...

Somehow I was expecting something horrendous LOL

omg same xD

[stilinskidetectives]

your-queenly-demise replied to your post: your-queenly-demise replied to your post: Tomorrow...

Awww =( Why must people be so cheap sometimes!

I know right? And the worst thing is that it's basically instead of Halloween. So why do we have whiny kids with cheap paper lanterns when we could have had scary decorations and awesome costumes?!