A wild grin seized Elsa's face as she lightly stepped across the pond, each tap of her heels on its surface producing not the splattering into the water anyone else might have expected but instead the familiar and comforting rush of chilled, rising air from the newly-made ice beneath her feet. Snow – natural snow – fell around her in this early week of winter, and she thought she might relish these rare few days when the water was unfrozen yet it was still too cold for anyone else to trek about obscure places in the mountains.

Why was she even wearing these heavy winter furs and boots? With a careless wave of her hand, she summoned another block of ice to float the hundred or so feet toward the shore and quickly removed and tossed away her clothing. The sun, still bright and powerful for the next few weeks, shone down on her naked, pale skin, and for some moments so pleasant she lost count, she closed her eyes and spread her arms under its gaze, her only other company the unexpected but welcome chirping of the occasional bird.

Another gesture at the center of the water conjured a particularly large and thick piece of ice, on which she twisted around and fell backward to lay in the perfect and knowing embrace of cold. Some indefinable pleasure seized her legs through a will of its own, and for some idyllic minutes she did nothing but let it wash over the rest of her muscles and body, taking her as it wished.

The sky was orange and red when next Elsa opened her eyes, the sun still disappearing behind some faraway mountains. She looked over her own body: a light covering of white snow was now her only clothing – oh, if only she could wear this all the time. With a great effort, she moved her head to the side to check the ice bridge she'd made to reach the center: it was still there, but in the light snow that had covered it since last she'd walked, there existed the unmistakable presence of footprints.

Elsa shrieked as she realized something else was wrong: her head wasn't even on the ice, it was on something cloth and warm. Instinctive shaking dispersed the snow on her body, and, still screaming and breathing in quick gasps, she covered her now-naked chest with a panicking arm, following which was a sheet of white to protect from any other's sight something considerably lower.

A soft, comforting hand placed itself on her cheek, and the shaking of her muscles slowed, then stopped. Still keeping her arm over her chest, she moved her free hand up and felt until into her grasp fell the unkempt red hair of her sister. She pushed Anna's head down until it was only a few inches from her own.

"Hiya, Elsa!" Anna smiled as if this was the most natural situation in the world.

"How did you put my head in your lap without me waking up?"

"Must be because you find me so comfortable." She giggled – but Elsa could sense in her words something other than sarcasm.

In a flash, Anna moved her hands down Elsa's sides to just beneath her arms and pulled her into what was a position caught halfway between sitting and laying, leaning her older sister's head against her own chest. Elsa hoped desperately that Anna couldn't feel her heart beating faster.

"I knew you'd been sneaking out, soooooooo…" Anna didn't bother finishing the sentence, and instead looked up at the last, dying rays of sunlight. "It's so pretty."

Elsa said nothing, focusing instead on calming herself. The red light caught on Anna's face and cast it into the same color as her hair. Finally, the younger sister looked down.

"It's not as pretty as you, though, Elsa."

Now it was Elsa's face that turned red. Was Anna's hand still on her cheek? She hoped not, she wouldn't want her to have felt the rush of blood.

"I—That's…"

"You should let yourself go more often, Elsa." Anna sighed and ran a hand on the ice. A few scraps of it flaked off, and she rubbed them in Elsa's bare shoulder. "I wish I was a boy."

"Why?"

"Well, not just a boy, but, you know…" Elsa couldn't tell if Anna was blushing, damn the sun. "An *unrelated* boy."

Elsa turned away, a shortsighted gesture that only succeeded in burying her face in Anna's dress. After some seconds,

"No one can hear you talk like that."

"Not even you?" Elsa couldn't tell if Anna's voice sounded genuinely hurt or if she was just mocking her.

"… Maybe me, but no one else."

Anna ran her hands around Elsa's arm, still clasping her own body, and moved it to the ice. Elsa breathed heavily. Anna's hands settled on her hips with a grace and lightness Elsa would have thought impossible from her usually blunt and energetic sister.

After the sun had set, Anna shifted the not-quite-sleeping Elsa with a combination of her hands and knees until now she lay on her lap, her face buried in her chest. Elsa awoke with a start and blushed again.

"Anna, I—"

A soft finger placed itself on her still open lips, and Elsa did nothing to resist her sister drawing her up until now their faces were at the same height. Then, Anna let herself collapse onto the frozen pond, and Elsa fell upon her, her white hair intermixing with Anna's red until but for their disparate colors it would have been impossible to tell whose was whose.

As they fell, Elsa felt their lips accidentally brush. She was certain it was an accident. They said nothing for a long while. Finally, Anna's hands wrapped around her sister's waist, and both of them breathed heavily – it was not in only Anna's breast that excitement grew. Each stared into the other's blue eyes.

Elsa thought of her magic, how for years she'd tortured both herself and her little sister by forcing a wall between them. She thought of how long they'd been vainly separated and of how much pain it had caused them. She thought of how freeing that feeling, how absolutely beyond any words man had ever produced that emotion was when finally she let loose and dispensed with that self-inflicted barrier.

And for what purpose had she lived that lie? Surely not just to protect her sister, that had been only a comforting lie. It—It had to be that she knew this was wrong, societally, that she knew this was wrong.

The same society that she'd had to hide her magic from for a decade?

With more force than she meant, Elsa bore herself down upon her sister, who, surprised but unresisting, closed her eyes and accepted and welcomed the kiss. Anna could even feel a little bit of saliva dribble down her chin during it – whose, she could not tell.

Elsa knew that she'd never be able to explain to anyone else how the cold made her feel: to speak of its temperature or rigidity or texture were the same as if one would speak of fire by describing it as burning: not inaccurate, but so absolutely lacking. Yet here, in her hands was something easily its equal. Her magic tore apart the inconvenient furs her sister wore until, beneath her, was a fragile creature possessed of an energy she could never understand but could, she knew, love. How smooth and warm Anna's skin felt, how delicate her lips and soft her curves! Elsa trembled involuntarily as her hands maneuvered down Anna's body, afraid she might break what now wrapped its own hands around her hanging breasts.

As Elsa carefully moved her right hand down the frail breasts and skin of her sister, she traced with the tips of her fingers five separate, tiny lines of frost. Anna shivered and elated, her body twisting on its own. But for knowing what would come next, it would have been tragic when Elsa's fingers ran out of stomach and hips and three moved off her skin, the forefinger and middle finger combining as they entered her body. She would have screamed in pure euphoria – but her sister's lips too thoroughly and too perfectly covered her own, her sister's tongue too powerfully and too commandingly forced her own down, back into her throat. She wondered if this was how Elsa's ice felt, to be so absolutely owned.

Elsa pushed herself forward, both her fingers and her hips, driving and almost smashing Anna against the ice. Again and again and again she forced her way into the welcoming embrace of her sister's body, pausing their elongated caress of lips only to take a quick, necessary breath, until finally her wrist and fingers screamed in a mutual pain of overuse just as, in her mouth, she could feel a scream of an entirely different sort emerge out of her sister. She opened her eyes, and with absolute pleasure witnessed Anna's fluttering and helpless and satiated.

With a triumphant thump, Elsa rolled onto the ice next to her panting, oblivious sister. Leaning her head to watch over Anna's rising and falling breasts, she crossed a bare leg over Anna's and brought it between her own two.

After some minutes of heavy, then soft, breathing, Anna turned, a happy and almost stupid smile across her face.

"Elsa, I didn't… I didn't know you were…"

This time, it was Elsa who over her sister's lips laid a finger, mockingly sealing them with a tiny wrinkle of ice. She leaned closer until now their foreheads touched and, to their mutual surprise, grazed her lips with her own soft tongue. She kept the connection for so long that the bit of ice melted. She leaned up a little, rubbing her cheek against Anna's, and moved to whisper into her ear.

"Do you think we can come here more often, sister?"

Elsa didn't hear Anna's response, if she gave one. She was, in truth, interested only in the texture and finery of her skin.