This story is a sequel to my earlier massive fanfic, Winter of Discontent. Be sure to read that before you read this one – otherwise, you will be very confused!

Part 1: Winter

Let me not to the marriage of true minds
Admit impediments.

Shakespeare, Sonnet 116

Chapter 1: Saying Something Crazy

Kristoff took a deep breath and knocked on the door.

It wasn't the door to Elsa's study. When Elsa had hired a private secretary last spring, her study had been reconfigured, and now there was another room you had to go through before you actually got to her. That was where the secretary sat and guarded the entrance to her real study.

Knowing he would have to knock on two sets of doors was not making Kristoff any less nervous. It made him wish he was still wearing his mittens, just to hide his sweaty palms. But it had to be done. It had to be done, because he had to talk to Elsa, and he had to do it without Anna being around, because—

Because it was time, that was why. Because it had been a year and a half since they had met, and now he knew what he wanted, the one thing that he could maybe keep breathing without but that he couldn't live without. Because Anna's birthday was in a week and if he didn't ask now he'd never have time to get everything done.

He took another deep breath, wondering what was taking so long. That was when the voice came. "Come in."

Kristoff swallowed and opened the door.

Elsa's secretary – Moller, his name was, Master Moller – looked up when Kristoff came in. Master Moller always had a strange deer-in-the-lantern stare when he saw Kristoff. Kristoff always tried not to notice. Today it wasn't hard at all. "Um—hi. I was wondering—that is—is Elsa—I mean, can I speak with the Queen?"

The Queen. That's right. Today she's the Queen. Maybe tomorrow—maybe after Anna's birthday—she can be Elsa. But right now, she's the Queen, and don't you forget it, Kristoff Bjorgman.

"I shall see if she is free. Please wait," said Master Moller, gesturing to the rock-hard sofa just next to the door.

Kristoff sat. Master Moller got up, knocked on Elsa's study door, and slipped inside.

Kristoff waited about ten seconds before he started to tap his foot and fidget. He tugged at the cravat around his neck and somehow just made it tighter. He tried not to tug at the vest, because that might make it wrinkle. He couldn't let it wrinkle, not today. Today was important. Not as important as Anna's birthday would be, but if he screwed things up today, he'd never get to Anna's birthday, and then—

He didn't know what he would do then. He did know that he didn't want to find out.

"Master Bjorgman?"

Kristoff vaulted to his feet. "Um—um, yeah? Hi?"

Master Moller's eyes were very wide as he stared at Kristoff. "Er—the Queen will see you now. She has a few minutes."

"She will? I mean—I mean, great. Thank you. I'll, uh—I'll go in now, then?"

Master Moller slowly nodded, holding the door open. Kristoff hurried inside.

Elsa sat at her desk, as always. The fire was burning today, which was a good thing, seeing as they were already two weeks into December. She let it go out sometimes, and generally she was the last to notice.

But she wasn't working. There was a sheaf of papers by her elbow, and there were faint ink stains on the tips of her fingers, but she was just sitting and—smiling? Kristoff found himself hoping she'd still be smiling at the end of all this.

"Good morning, Kristoff. Have a seat." Elsa waved to one of the chairs opposite her desk (which always felt too small and rickety to Kristoff), and he sat. "What can I do for you?"

Kristoff had a whole speech planned. He'd gone over it with Sven half-a-dozen times; he'd practiced it in front of the mirror. He knew that damn speech line for line, and it was the best he would ever come up with.

He couldn't remember a word of it now.

"Um …" he started to say, or that was what he wanted to say. It was at that point he realized that he couldn't remember the last time he had breathed and had to gasp a bit for air.

Elsa's eyes went very wide. "Are you all right?"

No! he thought, but there was no turning back now. Why did this have to feel harder than running straight into a whiteout to find Anna? He took another deep breath and realized he'd have to start saying something.

He started at the most obvious place. "Your Majesty … I love Anna."

Elsa had looked puzzled at the honorific and more so at Kristoff's declaration. "Er … yes?"

"No—I mean—what I'm trying to say is—" Kristoff ran a hand through his hair, remembering too late the amount of time he'd spent styling it. So much for that. "I—I love her. More than anything. And I know—I know I'm not good enough for her," he said, figuring he might as well get that out of the way.

Elsa's eyes went wide in a way that Kristoff couldn't read. Not that he had much time to try right at the moment. "I know I'm not a prince or a nobleman. Or just, you know, a guy with money. Or even human parents. That I know about, that is, because I'm pretty sure I must have had some at some point, otherwise how would I be here? But—anyway. What I'm trying to say is—I love Anna. I want nothing more than for her to be happy. And I want—that is—I'd like—if I could do anything with my life, it would be to make her happy. Always. Every day, just … making her happy. And …"

Kristoff's flow of words dried up. All he could think of were the reasons why he shouldn't be asking this. Shouldn't be allowed to even think of this.

But I love her. It wasn't much—but it was all he had. And surely, in this kingdom ruled by a mistress of ice and snow, a woman whose powers could only be controlled by love, that had to mean something?

"Please, Your Majesty – just – let me try. For … for Anna."

Elsa had knit her brows together, and her head was slightly tilted. "Kristoff … what, exactly, are you asking?"

Oh, SHIT! I never asked!

Kristoff's throat went drier (was that possible?) and he tried to swallow with limited success. He took a deep breath.

It was at that point that a line from his speech actually came back to him. He grabbed it before it could wiggle out of his mind again. "I beseech—that is, I humbly beseech you, Your Majesty, for—for permission to marry Princess Anna."

Elsa's face went blank.

It was the bad blank, the one that not even Anna could read. It was like Elsa wiped all hint of expression from her face. Nobody could tell what she was thinking then.

But it could only mean one thing.

Kristoff took a deep, shaky breath. "You know, I'll just—I'll just go. Yeah. I'll go." Go where, though? Somewhere far away. Very far away. "Thank—thank you for—" He started to get up.

"Kristoff, wait!" Elsa had leaped to her feet in the interim, meaning that Kristoff had to get all the way up in a hurry. "Don't—don't go. I didn't—that is—of course you have my permission to marry Anna."

Kristoff's jaw fell. "Wait—what?"

Elsa smiled. "You have my permission to marry her. Or …" She raised an eyebrow at him. "Ask her to marry you?"

Even though he knew he shouldn't, Kristoff fell to the chair behind him. It creaked rather alarmingly, but Kristoff barely noticed. Elsa took her own seat at a more reasonable pace.

Without a word, she took the carafe of water on the desk, poured some into a glass, and held onto the glass for a moment. "Here," she said, holding the glass out to him. "Drink this."

Kristoff took the glass gratefully and drank. The water was icy cold. "Thanks," he said, putting it down.

Elsa just smiled.

"Not … not just for the water," he mumbled, rubbing the back of his neck. "I mean …"

"I know," Elsa replied, saving them both quite a bit of embarrassment.

They sat in companionable silence as Kristoff took another sip. It was amazing how much better he felt, with at least one of his big questions asked and answered favorably.

Of course … he still had to ask Anna. The thought made the nerves leap up and threaten to get the best of him. But Kristoff took a deep breath and forced them back.

"Um … so I … uh … I was wondering if maybe you might … help me?" Kristoff asked. "I—I haven't gotten Anna a ring yet."

"Oh?" Elsa asked. "Of course I'll help. Just—just tell me how much you need, and I'll see that it's taken care of."

Kristoff shook his head. "No, no—I have enough, it's just—well … you know what she likes, so I thought …"

"Oh. Oh!" Elsa smiled, and her eyes—lit up? "I'd love to!"

"Great! So, so I …" Kristoff fished a couple of papers out of his waistcoat pocket, which was supposed to hold a pocket watch, but he didn't actually have one. "The jeweler gave me some drawings."

Kristoff didn't mention that he'd had to flash his "Official Ice Master and Deliverer" medal before the jeweler would even part with that much.

He smoothed out the three colored drawings on Elsa's desk. Elsa leaned forward, brows knit, taking each in carefully.

But she made her decision without hesitation. "That one," she said, pointing to the drawing of the gold ring set with an emerald and two diamonds. Delicate crocuses had been etched into the band, and when Kristoff saw it, it seemed perfect.

"Really?" Kristoff grinned. "I mean—that was the one I liked best—but I wanted to be sure."

"She'll love it," Elsa said with a certainty that he couldn't argue with. "If you don't mind me asking … when were you planning on asking Anna?"

"Her birthday," he replied. "I thought—I mean—it seemed like the right time."

"It does," Elsa smiled. "Yes … it does seem like the perfect time."

There was something there, some other hidden meaning swimming below the surface. But it was like the fish he sometimes saw when he was out harvesting. Sure, he might be able to see it, but there was a foot or two of ice between him and it, and he wasn't going to get to it anytime soon. So Kristoff put it out of his mind.

"Yeah. So …"

Elsa smiled. "Good luck. And … er … Kristoff?"

"… Yeah?" he asked.

Elsa was twisting her hands together. "To—to make things easier—I think—it might be best if you had a title. A noble title," she clarified. "Just to … well … keep people from talking as much."

"A noble title? Me?" Kristoff asked.

"Just to make things easier," Elsa repeated. "Besides—saving the life of the heir, and by logical extension the monarch—there are many aristocrats whose ancestors gained their titles for less. Much less. I—perhaps I ought to have given one to you with the Great Thaw, really. But those are just details," she finished. "We—you and Anna and I—we can discuss what title would be best once—well, once you ask her."

The thought of a title still wasn't sitting well. He was pretty sure that adding "Lord of Such and Such" to his name wouldn't make a silk purse of this particular sow's ear. But … if Elsa said it would make things easier …

If it made it easier to marry Anna …

Kristoff could live with it.

"All right," he agreed. "If—I mean, thank you. And if you're sure."

"I'm sure," Elsa nodded. "Very sure. But—"

A knock from the door interrupted her. With an apologetic glance at Kristoff, Elsa called, "Yes?"

Master Moller looked in. "I don't mean to interrupt, Your Majesty, but Minister Falk will be here in five minutes to go over the news from Friezenburg."

"Of course," Elsa murmured. She sighed, and for a minute Kristoff thought he saw frustration and something like worry flash through her eyes. "I'll be done in a moment," she said to Master Moller.

"Yes, Your Majesty," replied Master Moller before he quietly left.

Elsa took a deep breath. "Kristoff, I am so sorry—"

"Hey—don't worry about it," Kristoff interrupted. "You already made my day—really. Thank you."

She smiled. "And you made mine. Kristoff—I can't imagine a man who would be better for Anna than you. I truly can't. Thank you for everything you've done for her."

"Don't thank me," Kristoff shrugged. "It's … it's been …" Describing what it had been was not something he could put into words. Everything?

He shook his head. "I should probably disappear before your meeting."

"Not disappear," Elsa chuckled. "But—yes, perhaps."

She got up, and he got up too. But before he could leave, Elsa had moved around the desk. She stood in front of him, tentatively, before lifting her arms just a bit. "… Kristoff?"

It took Kristoff a second to realize what she was asking for. Then, just as tentatively, he stepped forward and hugged her.

It wasn't much of a hug. If Olaf had been around, he probably would have been giving them both a lot of pointers. But for Elsa—hell, for Kristoff—the fact that there was a hug at all probably meant a lot.

"Welcome to the family," Elsa said. "Not that you weren't part of it already," she laughed a little, pulling away. "But … officially now. Welcome."

"Thanks," Kristoff said, and meant it.

He took his leave of her then, because there really wasn't much else to say. He didn't look back—his mind was already going to the jeweler's, to Anna's birthday a week from now.

If he had, he might have seen the way Elsa took a deep breath, and twisted her hands together, and then held herself as if she was cold.

He would have most certainly wondered why.

"This," Anna sighed, "this has to have been my best birthday."

She turned to Kristoff with a smile, her skirts flaring around her ankles as she twirled. They were standing in the gardens, the dark broken only by strategically placed lanterns, while snow fell gently around them.

Kristoff smiled a little, the smile that made goose bumps form on Anna's arms and down her spine. "You said the same thing last year."

"Sure, but let's consider what I was working off of," Anna answered. "For the past thirteen birthdays …"

She frowned, thinking back. It wasn't that she hadn't had good birthdays. Far from it, her parents spoiled her rotten that day – chocolate chip pancakes for breakfast, piles of presents, a day spent with Anna in charge, calling the shots and naming the activities. But it was hard not to be disappointed when the one thing she wanted more than everything else combined was the one thing she never got.

"She would be here if she could. Maybe next year," her mother used to say. By the time Anna was twelve, she'd stopped even saying that.

Anna shook her head and pushed the thoughts out of her mind. She wasn't going to dwell on the sad times today. Not on her birthday, for Freya's sake.

And it had been a great birthday. She'd started shortly before noon with chocolate chip pancakes, followed by building a snowman with Elsa and Olaf in the courtyard, followed by wandering through the town in the midst of the holiday shopping madness with Kristoff and Elsa (Elsa hadn't been nearly as traumatized this year as she had been when they tried it last year), followed by a late lunch at Jorgen's chocolate shop before they went back home. And from then on? Lazing, laughing, and enjoying themselves straight through dinner.

Elsa had excused herself afterward, claiming that she had paperwork to get through before she could get to bed. Anna had barely a minute to be disappointed before Kristoff suggested a walk in the gardens.

Which led them to where they were now, in the gardens, walking through the snow. Anna tilted her head up and breathed the clean, fresh winter air. "I love winter."

"I know, feistypants. You've mentioned." Kristoff put an arm around her shoulders and tugged one of her braids. Before Anna could do more than squawk in protest, he'd kissed the top of her head. "I'm glad you had a good day."

"And I did," Anna nodded. "You know …" She laughed. "You know, when Gerda brought the cake out and said, 'Make a wish!' I didn't even wish for anything."

She felt Kristoff go stiff before she saw anything. "You … didn't?"

"Well … no?" Anna looked up at him, frowning. "I mean, I've got Elsa back – and the gates are open – and I've got you … and we've gone nine months without anything bad happening …" She raised one mittened hand to his cheek. "What else is there for me to want?"

Kristoff just smiled and shook his head.

"Hey," Anna murmured, "what's wrong? You've been … you've been odd these past few days. Not that that's a bad thing, because hey, look at me! Odd central! But you—I don't know, it's hard to explain. You've seemed—preoccupied?"

"Anna—"

"And I mean, it's one thing when it's Elsa, because if I ask her what's bothering her, she'll tell me it's trade or tax policy, or whatever it is going on with Friezenburg, and she'll try to explain and my eyes want to glaze over and, um, yeah, but you—Kristoff—"

"Hey, Anna—"

"It's just, I'm here, you know? If something's bothering you. You can tell me anything, you know that, right?" Anna bit her lip. "Because I'm right here. For you. And if you need anything, if you want anything …"

She didn't know how to go on. This – all of this – was something she'd never learned how to talk about, because talking about this was something that just wasn't done.

Because it all started with money.

She'd noticed it building since the autumn, when Kristoff suddenly stopped spending any money. Well, he did buy carrots for Sven. And he did replace his ice pick when the handle broke. But other than that – nothing. He'd had to patch his sweater three times and he still wouldn't buy himself a new one. Anna was just waiting for it to go into the laundry, so she could steal it and swap it for one that wasn't coming apart at the seams.

And part of her felt horrible for even noticing, because that sort of thing wasn't supposed to matter. In a way it didn't, because Anna knew that between her allowance and her dowry lands she had enough for both of them and a small village besides, and Kristoff never had to go on another harvesting trip if he didn't want to. (The idea of Kristoff not wanting to was ludicrous, but the point remained.) But in a way it did matter, because something was up, and Anna had a horrible feeling that it was something bad, and he wasn't telling her what it was. He wasn't letting her help.

"Just don't—don't shut me out, ok?" Anna asked.

Kristoff's eyes went wide. "Wait, what? No! I'm not—I am not shutting you out! I would—"

He stopped. But Anna knew what he was going to say. I would never shut you out.

Hans had said that when he was trying to worm his way into her good graces. It was only natural – Hans had been playing the doting lover, and Kristoff, meanwhile, actually did love her. That they had once hit upon the same sentence only proved that Hans was a good actor. (It was the only thing he had ever been any good at.)

But the first time Kristoff had said that, Anna had frozen up, and it … hadn't been pretty. So now Kristoff didn't say that.

He did, however, pull her to him in a bone-crushing hug – the kind Anna liked best. She smiled into his shirt.

Then she took a deep breath and looked up at him. "But really Kri—"

In a year and a half (more or less) of courting, Kristoff and Anna had discovered there was only one reliable way to get her to stop talking: give her mouth something else to do.

Kristoff kissed her.

Anna moaned, reveling in the sudden warmth that extended from head to deep, deep down in her toes, putting her arms around his neck. The kiss was gentle and magical and fierce and hungry all at once—

And then it ended, not abruptly, but slowly, Kristoff's lips leaving hers so tentatively that Anna's heart skipped a beat. Kristoff rested his forehead on hers. "Anna … I love you."

"I know, and I lo—"

Kristoff kissed her again, just a peck this time, but it did the trick. "I love you more than anything, and—and—"

Without any warning, one of his legs – the one that had been broken earlier this year – seemed to give out, and he was on one knee.

"Kristoff!" Anna yelped, kneeling by him. "Oh my goodness! What happened? We need to get you inside!"

"What? No, Anna, you're supposed to stand up!"

"What are you talking about? Here, let me get you to a bench—"

"Anna—"

"Just put your arm over my shoulder, and—Freya, you're heavy—"

Kristoff cupped her face with his hands and kissed her breathless.

When they finally fell apart, Anna panting, Kristoff kept his hands on her face. "Marry me?"

"Whatever you want, big guy," Anna panted, "but let's get you to a—wait, what?"

Anna stared at Kristoff.

Kristoff stared back at Anna. She could see the gulp move down the throat. "Will—will you marry me, Anna?"

Anna's jaw fell. "Are … are you serious?"

"Yes."

Anna's hands slapped against her mouth. He was serious. He had to be serious. He hadn't even made a crack about being on one knee, in the snow, what did she think he was doing …

"Anna?" Kristoff asked, his eyes searching her face. She'd never seen him look so scared and so hopeful at once.

It was at that point Anna realized she hadn't given him an answer.

"YES!" she squealed, and she launched herself into his arms.

"And then he gave me the ring, and … oh, gods … Elsa, I don't think I've ever been so happy in my life."

"I'm glad," replied Elsa, and meant it.

They were where Anna had decided they would be ending the night: Elsa's bedroom, sprawled on the bed in nightclothes with a tray of chocolates between them. Anna had flopped back against the pillows, holding out her hand so that the candlelight flashed and shone through the emerald and diamonds. "It's a perfect ring, isn't it?"

"It is."

"And it's been a perfect birthday," she sighed.

Elsa didn't wince outwardly, but she did on the inside. She knew she'd be ruining that birthday in a minute.

"Anna …" Elsa scooted a little closer, trying to avoid upending the chocolate tray. "You … you know we can't go public with the engagement until the Council approves, right?"

"Huh?" Anna glanced up, still looking dazed. "But Kristoff said you already approved?"

"I did approve. But it's not just me who has to approve; the Council does as well. Because … well, you're my heir."

"Heiress presumptive," Anna muttered. "I thought the Council was just a formality, though."

"It is," Elsa hedged. "But all the same …" She shrugged. "It has to be done. You—you know that."

There was so much she was leaving unsaid, so much she was hoping that Anna would understand, all without truly understanding.

"Huh," Anna murmured. She looked at the ring and pouted. "But I don't want to take the ring off."

"You can still wear the ring. Here—hold out your hands."

Anna pulled her hands in, raising an eyebrow at Elsa.

"Anna, what do you think I'm going to do you? Or the ring?"

Slowly, Anna held her hands out. Elsa took the ring from her left hand and put it on her right. "Ta-da! Now it's not an engagement ring anymore."

"… Ok, you win this round," Anna conceded. "But no take-backsies on the permission!"

Laughing slightly, Elsa scooted closer and kissed the top of her sister's head. "No take-backsies, I promise. You'll be marrying your true love before you know it. Now, how many bridesmaids were you thinking?"

Late that night, after the chocolates had been eaten, the candles blown out, and Anna was fast asleep, Elsa lay awake.

I thought the Council was just a formality …

Elsa turned to her side, watching Anna's chest rise and fall, listening to her soft snoring. She wished it could be that simple. She wished that the Council would simply give their approval quickly and painlessly.

She wished that she didn't keep thinking, They would have approved of Hans in a heartbeat, before any of them had a chance to know him. But Kristoff?

How many looked at Kristoff and saw a capable young man with a heart of gold? How many of them saw the man to whom they owed the life of their princess and indirectly their queen? And how many just saw an ice harvester, with no manners, no social graces, and (this would be far too important in the minds of far too many) a large question mark where his (human) parents should be?

She knew what the Council would find if they looked in Kristoff's antecedents. After all, Elsa had done it herself after the Great Thaw, when Anna and Kristoff were still feeling each other out and Elsa was trying to keep her sister safe while giving her a chance at happiness. Kristoff had been dropped off at an orphanage as a month-old baby. He'd lived there for the first seven and a half years of his life before he'd been apprenticed out to a troop of ice harvesters. (Elsa thought seven was absurdly young for that kind of thing, but Kristoff had apparently been a sturdy, well-grown boy who was quite big for his age. That, and the orphanage was under no little pressure from its backers to apprentice the boys and girls to "useful trades" as quickly as they could manage.) Six months after that he disappeared from the ice harvesting troop, only to reappear approximately five years later, rejoining them and making his living among them. From then on, his life had been an open book.

The Council would want to know what had happened in that five-year gap. But explaining about the trolls was the least of Elsa's foreseeable problems.

Finding terms that they would understand to explain why she thought Kristoff would be a good husband to Anna? That was the difficulty.

Elsa reached for Anna, meaning to brush the bangs out of her eyes, or smooth the hair that was already puffing up like the head of a dandelion, but she let her hand fall limp and useless to the pillows.

He loves her. She loves him. And that's all she wants – all she ever wanted. Why can't it be enough?

Because that wasn't how the world worked. Because those who were born to privilege had certain responsibilities. Because to the minds of far too many, Anna was only the spare, the one whose duty it was to marry some foreign prince and bind another country's fate to Arendelle.

Anna deserved better than that. And for once in her life, Elsa would see to it that she got it.

Slowly she edged across the bed and lightly kissed Anna's forehead.

You will marry your true love, Anna. I don't care if I have to move heaven and earth to make it happen. I promise, you will marry the man you love even if it's the last thing I do.

Cue dramatic music.

Anyway, I hope you liked the first chapter! I have a five-chapter buffer, which I hope to keep, so don't look for an update for a couple of days. I promise that it will come soon, though.

Thanks for reading, and if you liked it, follow the story or leave me a review – and if you didn't like it, tell me why!

Until next time, folks!