A/N: I woke up on my day off two weeks ago and suddenly had to have this ship. Now look what you've done to me, Helsa. I regret nothing. Iceburns 4 lyfe.

The Bachelorette

Chapter One: The 13th Suitor

why drink the water from my hand
contagious as you think i am
just tilt my sun towards your domain
your cup runneth over again

december promise you gave unto me
december whispers of treachery

collective soul - 'december'

Elsa awoke slowly, her sleep-addled senses first making note of the bright sunlight that filled her room and second the sounds of the castle stirring to life. She stretched languidly and rolled amongst the sheets like a cat, savoring the warmth on her skin and the songs of the birds in the courtyard. Rather reluctantly, she sat up and began to put her thoughts in order for the day. Breakfast in the gardens with Anna - 'Mmn, coffee.' - followed by her daily briefing with her advisers, then they would open the gates, as they had every morning since the Great Thaw, and - Elsa's face fell dramatically. Today would be wholly different than any other relatively peaceful morning of the last year because today when they opened the gates, she would not only be welcoming her subjects. Today, she would be welcoming her suitors.

Elsa had hoped she would have more time before the pressure to marry was too great, but it was natural for her advisers and kingdom to be eager for her to find a suitable match. Her advisers were relatively easy to fend off, they had managed to wait a whole six months after the thaw before even suggesting she consider marriage, but it was her sister's well-being that hastened the queen's actions more than political pressure. Anna and Kristoff had also somehow contained themselves for six whole months before bringing up marriage, though in this case it was their own. Though Elsa was more than happy to bless their union, tradition dictated she take a husband before the princess. Sometimes, Elsa hated being the older sister.

The day seemed somehow less vibrant and the birdsong now grating to her high-strung nerves. Elsa hastened out of bed and with a flick of her wrist was dressed head to toe in a sleek many-layered ensemble that glimmered with frost and magic. Though she no longer wore gloves to conceal her powers, today she deftly pulled a pair out of her drawers and slipped them on without a second thought. She liked the formality and distance they provided her. 'No use letting them slobber all over my hand. One might get frozen there and then what would I do?' she almost laughed out loud at the image her mind conjured, 'I suppose I'd have to marry him by default.' Still smiling at the thought, she quickly brushed and braided her hair, letting it settle over her left shoulder as she was accustomed. With one last look in the mirror she steeled herself for the day ahead.

Anna stumbled into the gardens rather ungracefully and clearly half-asleep just as Elsa was finishing her first cup of coffee. The queen poured two more cups and handed one to her younger sister, waiting patiently for the brew's magic to take hold. "Sleep well, Anna?"

"Never enough sleep," Anna yawned and after a long sip sighed happily, "That's the ticket. So, what's on the agenda for today, sis?"

Elsa almost couldn't believe Anna had forgotten, but knowing her sister's absentmindedness she wasn't really that surprised. "Outside the usual, of course, today we open the gates to," Elsa couldn't help the small sigh that escaped her, "suitors."

"We? I already have a suitor, thank you very much," Anna teased, "but I know what you mean. Wow, suitors, huh? That's pretty exciting. What are you wearing? How many do you think will show up?"

"Exciting is one word for it. I'm wearing what I'm wearing right now. And none, if I'm lucky." Elsa raised a sardonic brow and tried rather unsuccessfully not to smile at the annoyed look on her sister's face.

Anna patted her hand sympathetically. "Now, Elsa, don't be like that. How are you ever going to meet The One if you don't meet anyone?"

"Anna, I don't really want to meet anyone," at her younger sister's baleful stare she quickly amended, "at least, not yet. I know I'll have to marry someday, if only for the good of the realm, I just . . ." she didn't really know how to articulate her feelings on the matter any better than that.

Far from mollified, Anna was even more perturbed. "This isn't about what's good for the realm!" She sighed and crossed her arms, making herself comfortable in her chair, settling in for an argument. "It's about finding someone who's good for you, Elsa."

"I fail to see how a husband in necessarily good for me, Anna," Elsa retorted, "and furthermore, you forget that, as queen, this is absolutely not about me. I must find a husband to be the king Arendelle so rightly deserves."

Anna threw her hands up in exasperation. "And what about what you deserve, Elsa? I'm not saying marriage is the end-all, be-all, fix-all, I'm not that naive, after everything that happened last year, but I have learned that everyone deserves to be loved."

"I am loved, Anna. I have you and Kristoff and Olaf. Despite freezing everything, I think, perhaps, I might even have the love of my subjects. But romantic love?" Elsa blushed at the mere thought, "I just don't know if that's in the cards for me."

When she finally met Anna's gaze she was surprised by how sad the princess looked at her words. 'Don't pity, me, Anna. What would an Ice Queen do with the warmth of a man's touch?' Anna opened her mouth to continue arguing, but suddenly seemed to change her mind, her features abruptly morphing from remorseful to mischievous. "Well, I for one hope a million princes show up! Each more handsome than the last."

Elsa laughed at her sister's shift in mood. "I doubt they'll all be princes. Regardless, what would I do with one million suitors?"

"Well, ogle them if they're each more handsome than the last, for a start," Anna rested her hand on her chin thoughtfully, "Make them compete for you hand! We'll hold tourneys and dances and it will be just marvelous!"

"Anna, I don't dance."

"I'm sure one of the million princes can teach you," Anna winked cheekily.

"Well, if one million suitors do show up you can ogle them all you want," Elsa gathered her skirts and politely excused herself from the breakfast table, "I would be surprised if more than a few present themselves as of today."

"And if it's more than a few?"

"Then you may hold your tourneys and dances to your heart's content, though I can't guarantee I will seek out a dancing instructor."

"Deal." Anna looked positively delighted at the mere idea.

"See you soon, Anna," the morning meeting with her advisers awaited her, though it was sure to be a particularly tedious this day.

"Have a good time! Let me know how many princes show up!" Anna's happy voice trailed after her, "And how handsome they are! I'll start planning the tourneys! You better start practicing your two-step, sis!"

Elsa tried to keep her sister's good humor with her throughout the meeting, but before the secretary had even finished the minutes from the previous morning her mood had cooled dramatically. "And, of course," the secretary concluded, "the first order of business on today's agenda is the arrival of suitors for Queen Elsa's hand."

"Thank you, William," Elsa acknowledged wearily, "Well, gentlemen, as he said: the suitors. Have any announced formal intentions I should be made aware of?"

"No less than nine, you majesty," her councilor of state affairs shuffled his papers, overflowing as ever, "I have their letters here if you wish to read them?"

'Anna may get her tourneys and dances, after all.' Elsa couldn't contain the sigh that escaped her in a cool cloud despite the warmth of summer that hung in heavy in the air. "Have copies made and deliver the originals to my study. I will read them after today's formalities. For now, just give me names and titles."

What followed was a whirlwind of full names and titles with enough suffixes and prefixes and "the thirds" to last her a lifetime in politics. Four dukes, three princes, a nomadic king from the east, and a lord-something-or-other. Some were familiar and rather surprising - 'Isn't he old enough to be my father?!' - while the others were completely foreign. "And doubtless, a few others will come without regard to formal procedure, your grace."

"This is . . . this is too many!" Elsa felt the freeze in her veins yearning for release, but ignored its ever-howling insistence, "I didn't realize opening myself up to suit would require hiring more staff!"

"Indeed your majesty," Kai smiled kindly, "I have already seen to airing out the rooms and am in the process of hiring temporary help."

She nodded in thanks to her most trusted steward and steepled her fingers. "How long do you suppose they will stay?" Her voice sounded petulant even to her own ears.

"At best," this was an admiral who spoke, a hard old man with the sea in his voice, "a month, your majesty. Weather being what it is, they'll have to get going while the going is good, if you understand my meaning."

"Indeed, I do," she raised a brow expectantly, "I don't suppose I could encourage their hastening with a bit of snow?"

"It might not do anyone a kindness, your majesty," the admiral smiled.

In spite herself, Elsa smiled back. At least one of her advisers understood her frustrations. "I suppose not. At any rate, if Anna is to have her happily-ever-after I must marry. And Arendelle must have a king to suit her needs." 'And what of your needs?' the voice in her mind sounded suspiciously like Anna. "Regardless, today we shall greet the suitors, both formal and informal, and move forward from there. I shall consult with my sister on this matter and discuss our ideas with you at tomorrow's meeting. Now, what is the next business on our agenda?"

By the time the meeting adjourned Elsa felt drained of what little energy she had for other people that day, but there would be no respite. She took a quick lunch in the kitchens, listening to the happy chatter of the cooks and pretending for a while she was simply a maid or a farmer's daughter or any other girl without the responsibilities of a kingdom resting upon her shoulders. Perhaps if she was not born into privilege she would be free to choose, free to fall in love - or not - at her own pace in her own way. She idly wondered if Anna had ever worried about the role Kristoff would play in her royal life or if she had simply let true love take its course and trusted her worlds to reconcile themselves. Knowing Anna, she had simply forged ahead without concerning herself with pesky little things like details. Was true love even possible for Elsa? She was still very uncomfortable with physical affection and had only learned to trust in the power of love recently. Was she selfish to want more than politically advantageous union? Her thoughts had her mind spinning around in circles and when she realized the wood beneath her fingers was slick with snow she felt ashamed. 'Stop it, Elsa,' she berated herself, 'you cannot freeze up now. There is too much to be done.'

She thanked the cooks and excused herself to the antechamber that had been arranged for greeting the men that had traveled far and wide to seek her hand in marriage. There were several chairs that she doubted anyone would be using as well as a long table filled with refreshments including pre-poured wine from which she eagerly sampled. The wine was sweet and cloying on her tongue. Its scent filled her nose as she took a deep breath and settled herself near the dais set up for her use, but she didn't bother to sit down. The porters were already calling and opening the doors. The moment was upon her. The bright blinding light of mid-day filled the room and left her vision blurry as the herald's voice rang out, "Her royal majesty, Queen Elsa of Arendelle!"

At first, all she could see was the white of the summer sun through the open doors, but then, slowly, but still much too fast for her liking, what appeared to be a swarm of men descended upon the room. As each passed through the threshold, his details came into focus and Elsa was a little relieved to note that several wore the uniforms of attendants to the would-be suitors. Even so, it seemed there were many more than nine-and-a-few in her foyer. When the hoard seemed to finally cease Elsa took a deep breath and addressed the assembled mass. "Gentlemen, welcome to Arendelle. We are most honored for the opportunity to host you and yours as well as make your acquaintances. Please, help yourselves to refreshments and I will be available for introductions as it pleases you."

A few suitors were quite eager, assaulting her without even putting up a pretense of grabbing a glass of wine or acknowledging the other guests. Two were very young, the first a duke with less years than even Anna, who stuttered over his every word, and the second a arrogant princeling whose overwhelming ego immediately grated on her nerves. The third was also a prince, older than Elsa by a few years, more confident than the poor duke and less aggravating than the younger prince. Dark and lean, Elsa was off-put by his oily charm and they way he looked at her as though he knew some secret she herself was blind to.

The fourth man who approached her made her laugh and grin fondly. This man had not announced his intentions via letter, but he was none-the-less familiar to her. He was a stable-hand of her own age named Stefan who often helped her with her tack and kept her company while she groomed her horse, making her smile with witty quips about lords and staff with whom they were both familiar. A handsome man, with tanned skin and rough hands from long days of work, his nature was as gentle as a mare and his strength that of a stallion. Elsa blushed prettily, never having imagined he might harbor some desire toward her and finding herself strangely flattered. "Pardon, your majesty," he bowed rather inelegantly and grinned, "I realize I'm not as fancy as these other men here, but I never heard no one say your suitors necessarily had to be royal."

One of the nearby dukes, whom Elsa had yet to acknowledge, snorted rudely at Stefan's unrefined manner, but the stable-hand's easy confidence and honest ways made her smile. "Well met, Stefan," his grin widened unabashedly at that, "I don't suppose staying here in the castle for a while will keep your from you duties or inconvenience you in any way?"

"You could never inconvenience me, your grace," he bowed shortly and Elsa wondered if perhaps this whole courting business wouldn't be so bad, after all, "I'll leave you to your other guests, but I hope to see you again soon."

"You can count on it."

Next, Elsa met the snorting duke, though she was already ill-disposed to his attitude regarding Stefan, and then lord-something-or-other, brother of some-king-somewhere. She was surprised by the introduction of identical twins, self-made merchants from the mainland with caramel skin and matching mischievous smirks. "Don't you find it odd to compete with your brother for the same prize?" Elsa certainly didn't see herself as such, but couldn't help but tease the two. They stared at her as though they were confused by the question before sharing a long look and smiling enigmatically.

"Your majesty," the brother on the left politely informed her, "we share in all conquests."

Elsa wanted to be offended, but found herself rather amused. "Unfortunately for you both, I don't."

The brothers shrugged in unison and bid her they would see her soon, still smiling and she found she couldn't help but look forward to their next meeting, if only because she found their serene ambivalence refreshing.

Yet another duke and a prince introduced themselves and Elsa found her suspicions about the prince's age confirmed - 'Nope. Just . . . nope.' - while the duke was well into his thirties. His age was unsurprising, as he was clearly a career military man and as such had likely waited until now to pursue marriage. Elsa bid him a pleasant day and promised him more conversation after the formalities and proceedings, but considering her own lack social grace and his stern taciturn ways, she doubted a later conversation would lead to much more than awkward silence. The last duke was younger than the first and Elsa almost felt sorry for him, so obviously embarrassed by his presence there that she was sure he had been pressured, most likely by family, to pursue her when he himself was barely entering adulthood. 'Best throw this one back.'

What she believed to be the last man in the entourage was different in every way to the men she was accustomed to. Tall and broad shouldered, he had dusty cinnamon skin and straight white teeth that smiled bright beneath a well-kept beard. His hair was as dark as hers was fair and when he took her hand could feel the warmth of his touch through the thin fabric of her glove. Else felt the same heat in her cheeks when he kissed her hand and bowed deeply. "I am King Farhajii, of the Desert Nations," his voice was deep and heavy with a pleasant accent that tickled her ears, "I have traveled far and wide, hearing only stories of your beauty and power. None have done you justice, my queen."

"Well met, sir," her manner was reserved, but keenly interested. She had heard strange and exciting tales of the eastern reaches and the deserts that lay beyond, populated by nomadic peoples, merchants, and horse-lords, with more sand than Arendelle had snow. At the very least, establishing a rapport with this powerful man and his nation would go a long way toward strengthening her own kingdom. "It is my sincere honor to host your grace. I hope you find Arendelle to your liking."

"The honor is all mine, Queen Elsa," he bowed once more, "I look forward to making your acquaintance and exploring this splendid kingdom you call home."

When the Desert King had took his leave of her Elsa was at last free to clap her hands to gather the assembly's attention. "As I have said, it such a privilege to meet you all and I hope I may spend more time with each of you in the coming days," her teeth hurt with the obvious lie, "Dinner will be served in the Great Hall in three hours time. Meanwhile, my staff will show you to your - " She trailed off abruptly as she noticed a single silhouette appear in the still open doorway. 'Another one?!' She was almost exasperated at this point, but tried her best to put on a welcoming facade. The man was tall and slender-built. He walked through the door and into the parlor as though he owned the place and Elsa felt there was something strangely familiar about his over-confident gate. It wasn't until he was almost upon her that recognition and disgust contorted her pretty features into a mask of pure hatred. The air around her snapped bitterly cold and the men standing closest to her shuffled nervously, one actually scampering back in fear. "You."

Now only a few feet from her, looking utterly handsome and totally unrepentant, Prince Hans of the Southern Isles smirked. "Me." He seemed much unchanged, though perhaps a bit worn around the edges. Elsa couldn't stand to look upon him long enough to discern any significant changes that had affected the figure who still occasionally haunted her nightmares.

"What are you doing here?" The Snow Queen hissed as flakes began to dance about her. Several suitors gave her a wary distance while the temperature turned frigid. 'Cowards.' However, the man in front of her, the only one who had actually witnessed the extent of her awesome and terrifying powers first-hand, dared step closer.

"This is where the suitors are supposed to be, right?" He was all easy grace and relaxed continence despite the frost that now clung to his bright red hair, making him look older than his four-and-twenty years.

He couldn't possibly be saying - "Yes," Elsa responded slowly, "and what is that to you?"

He raised his brows as though he couldn't believe he had to spell it out for her. "Well, that's what I'm doing," he boldly reached for her hand and in her effort to still the ice in her veins she made no move to stop him. "I, Admiral Prince Hans Westerguard of the Southern Isles," he deftly removed her glove, bringing her fingertips to his mouth and leaving a lingering kiss along them while never breaking eye contact. Elsa burned with fury and embarrassment, but idly noted how soft and strange the sensation was. No one had ever kissed her bare hands before. 'How dare he presume to be the first.' She almost didn't hear him continue with the noise of blood pounding through her head, "would like to announce my intention to court Her Royal Majesty, Queen Elsa the Snow Queen of Arendelle."

Her nostrils flared from the force of her angry exhale and she snatched first her hand and then her glove from his cloying grasp. "You must be insane if you think I would even consider accepting your suit!"

Hans shrugged. "Well, why not?"

"Why not what?" Elsa was suddenly aware of all of the intensely interested eyes observing this strange and surreal scene. The other suitors looked ready to murder Hans - 'Ugh, men and their violence.' - while her guards were poised between action and uncertainty. They clearly recognized the threat the Southern Prince presented, but the queen had not given them their orders. 'They are well disciplined, to be sure, but I have to wonder how Hans slipped passed them in the first place?' Hans either didn't notice they were the center of attention or just didn't care. 'He probably loves it, the egomaniac.'

"Why not accept my suit?" For the first time, he acknowledged the rest of the room with a gesture of his hand, "Better a familiar cad than a foreign one. At least you know what I'm capable of." He winked boldly and Elsa wanted to pinch the bridge of her nose in frustration, but was worried it would not look very regal.

"You certainly are a cad," the older suitors and even the youngest prince looked a bit put-off by her use of such coarse language, but wisely did not comment, "as for what you are capable of, there is little I would put passed you, Prince Hans." She spit the title at him venomously as though it were a curse. Awkward silence reigned supreme while she gathered her thoughts and feelings into something she could actually deal with, as opposed to the roiling storm that the arrival of the Southern Prince had sent her into. "As I was saying, gentlemen," she announced to the room proper, "follow my staff and they will lead you to your rooms. Unfortunately, family matters will keep me from dinner this evening, but rest assured I will see you all at breakfast tomorrow morning in the Great Hall. May you have a pleasant afternoon."

"So," Hans seemed to be mocking her, "should I go see about those rooms, then?"

"You're lucky you're not seeing the dungeons," she growled, "yet." She had to compose herself quickly as the Desert King approached and gave a short formal bow.

"If I may be so bold, your majesty," he shot Hans a dirty look from under his heavy brow, "if this man is upsetting to you I shall personally escort him from the premises, should it please your grace."

"Oh, see, Elsa," Hans was definitely mocking her, "this one shows his jealous streak already."

"That's Queen Elsa to you, boy," the Desert King stood to his full height and it was suddenly and almost amusingly clear he outweighed the sleight prince by almost 50 pounds of pure muscle.

"Hans," Elsa said sweetly, sick to death of the entire encounter, "if you don't shut your mouth, right now, I'm going to freeze it shut for you." Even the king looked surprised and fearful at the threat, but he smiled and bowed once more.

"Well," his tone was pleased, "it seems you are more than capable, your grace. I shall see you on the morrow."

"I look forward to it, your majesty," she smiled politely and waited until the King followed the last of the staff assigned to the visiting suitors before rounding on Hans. "You."

He grinned like the cat that got the cream, all teeth and dark humor. "Me."

Elsa let loose a little sigh of frustration before gesturing to her ungrateful guest and a few guards, who looked relieved to finally be of some use. "Follow me."

The gardens were in full summer bloom and the air was heavy with their scent. This time of day, the flowers and trees were relatively unattended as servants and masters alike laid down and took their tea to avoid the sweltering heat of the afternoon. Seasons in Arendelle knew only extremes, much like its royalty. As the entourage approached the long line of shade trees Elsa gestured to the guards to hang back, confident she could defend herself need be and desiring privacy from prying eyes and ears. Hans strolled alongside her, for all intents and purposes, looking like a man without a care in the world. Elsa was more than frustrated with herself for even giving him the time of day, but she couldn't help but be overwhelmingly curious about his presumption to pursue her hand. "Well?" Her tone was more or less commanding.

"Well what, your majesty?" Hans feigned ignorance, likely to annoy her.

"Well," she hadn't realized her voice could sound so harsh, "what makes you think you can just come back here and try to court me?!"

He stopped beneath the low-hanging leaves of a willow and was quiet for a long time, staring off into the space just over her right shoulder as though it held the answers he was seeking. A gentle breeze caused the branches of the tree to sway and the sunlight that dappled his head and shoulders danced about merrily, almost glittering against the bright white of his uniform and bringing out gleaming brass highlights in his hair. He looked the perfect picture of a discontent prince. She bet he did it on purpose. Just as she was about to lose her patience with him he finally responded, "A dare."

"Excuse me?" She couldn't imagine what sort of dare would bring this man back into her life.

"Or a punishment, depending on how things turn out."

"How what things turn out?" she wanted to gnash her teeth at his enigmatic responses.

"My suit, of course." His smirk finally set her over the edge. Ice blistered forth from the ground at her feet.

"Hans. Explain. Now." She was practically growling, "And don't think I've ruled out the dungeons."

He sighed as though he were exercising very great patience with her. "It's like this, Elsa - "

"Queen Elsa," she would not abide such an intimate use of her name from this man.

"Queen Elsa," he sounded petulant, mocking her once again, "as you know, for the last eleven months I have been at the tender mercies of my older brothers, as your justice demanded."

"Obviously, they were far too lenient with you or you wouldn't be here darkening my doorstep."

His gaze was hard and haunted and she suddenly felt a little bad for the barb, warranted though in may have been. "Obviously," he was droll before continuing, "as I was saying, each had a month to punish me as he saw fit. Some of my brothers were certainly, shall we say, creative in their dealings with me, but it is the second to last, Martis, who has perhaps given me the greatest challenge yet."

"And that challenge is . . ." she drawled, wondering what variety of punishments his brothers had inflicted upon him, but unwilling to ask.

"I must be married by the end of the month." Elsa wanted to be surprised, but really, given the circumstances and his sudden insistence to court her, she had suspected something along those lines. She felt it was unnecessarily cruel of this Martis to inflict his younger brother on some poor innocent woman or, in this case, herself.

"I don't really see how that's a punishment," she tried to argue, but he own words to Anna at breakfast floated through her mind, 'I fail to see how a husband is necessarily good for me.'

"If I'm not married by the end of the month, I have to renounce my titles and join a monastery," he paused for dramatic effect, "a celibate monastery."

Elsa blinked slowly, trying to imagine it and failing. "You would make a very bad monk."

Hans snorted inelegantly. "To say the least," he moved closer to her and the ice beneath their feet cracked loudly with his approach, "I'd like to believe I'd make a better husband than a monk and, perhaps, an even better king."

Anger coursed white-hot through her. "Ah, so there it is," she turned away from him in disgust, finding a nearby bench resting her fingertips along its back to still her clenching hands, "your brother seeks to humble and better you through his 'punishment' and you see it as an opportunity to make a play for power, yet again."

"Well," she could hear the smirk in his voice without seeing it, "every cloud must have a silver lining."

"You are incorrigible."

"I find it's one of my best qualities." She was surprised by the nearness of his voice and even more so when she felt his warmth at her back, though he refrained from touching her, for which she was eternally grateful. Arendelle did not need another deep freeze.

"Surely there is royalty out there you'd have better chances of seducing than the woman you tried to kill?" She felt breathless at his proximity and her voice lacked the bite she intended.

"Ah," his breath tickled the fine hairs on her neck, "but where's the fun in that? Better a familiar ice queen than some foreign simpering princess." He traced his fingers along the bench before coming to rest next to her hand, "After all, you were always my first choice."

She snorted in a very unladylike fashion. Finally finding herself free of his spell she rounded on him angrily. "Now I know you're lying! You were engaged to my sister, for goodness sake!" Facing him had perhaps been a mistake because she was now caged between the heat of his body and the bench at her back while his citreen eyes bore into her. Elsa had thought she hated being touched, but the way he braced himself just inside her personal space without actually touching her was a new exquisite form of torture. Her body thrummed with the threat of physical contact so close, but no release was forthcoming.

He seemed a little surprised. "Anna never told you?"

"Told me what?"

His smile was cruel and proud. "I originally planned to woo you, your grace, but you were so inaccessible I changed tactics," he gestured with his free hand as though to caress her cheek, but stopped himself at the last moment, "After you froze the kingdom, I understood why you had kept yourself so distant. I shouldn't have been so quick to dismiss you."

"You understand nothing about me."

"Now who's lying, your majesty?"

He held her gaze a moment longer before shrugging his shoulders carelessly and righting himself so suddenly she could almost feel the vacuum of his presence. "I suppose," his voice was teasing again and she was briefly reminded of Anna's ever-shifting moods, "if you're unwilling to accept my suit, there are always maids and village girls willing to throw everything away for happily-ever-after, even if it's spent with a dastardly prince like me."

She studied him for what seemed like hours, but was probably less than a minute. Finally, slowly, she came a decision. "I would hate to leave the maids to your gentle mercies."

Elsa wanted to wipe the look of triumph right off his face. "Does this mean you accept my suit?"

"Insanity must be catching."

"Luckily for you, I love crazy."

end chapter one.