AN: Written for Elsanna Week, Day 1: Wedding Day. Title from Bruno Mars' "Marry You."
"Can you believe they dumped the punch on him? Oh, and wow, the flowers? Her dress? Did you see it? Elsa, tell me you saw her dress!"
Anna danced out of the reception hall, swinging in circles while she pulled on her coat. Snow was fluttering down on her dress, but she found it hard to care. She was high on chocolate and love, and nothing was going to bring her down.
A hand caught hers, spinning her back around to fall into a waiting pair of warm arms that slipped her coat on the rest of the way.
Behind her, Elsa was chuckling, which was one more thing to be happy about. "Yes, Anna, I saw the bride's dress. It was hard to miss."
Anna swooned back into Elsa, guiding the two of them down the sidewalk. "It was gorgeous. Can you imagine wearing something like that?"
Elsa hummed noncommittally. "It would look better on you."
"What? No way."
They walked along the path jovially, matching each other step for step and trading stories about the other guests. And the flowers and the dresses and just everything about the beauty of the day and it was all wonderful. Anna added perfect synchronization to the list of things to enjoy about the evening.
They came to a halt by a small park surrounded by conifers, the conversation dying down as they watched the falling snow collect on the play structure and the fresh green needles.
The silence was a comfortable one, but Anna thought that might be a little one-sided. She could feel Elsa staring at her, and not in the heart-fluttering way.
"You've always loved weddings."
Even expecting it, Anna stiffened in the snug home of Elsa's arms. The tender reminiscence sounded way too much like an apology. The night was too beautiful and warm to go anywhere near all of that. She burrowed her head back into the crook of Elsa's neck, leaning up and nipping at her jaw.
"Not all of them," she declared, tossing her head—and accidentally bashing her sister in the mouth. She winced, murmuring her apologies and a conciliatory kiss against the bruising lips. Elsa's overborne look of melancholy melted, and Anna pulled away quickly to clear her throat, determined not to get off topic. It was much easier when she couldn't see Elsa's eyes, so she stared determinedly into the park. "There was that one with the Cloud Prince."
Elsa's arms squeezed her around the middle, fingers digging into her sides and making Anna's knees buckle in protested childish glee. "You were the one who glued cotton balls to my face."
Anna stuck out her tongue, squirming to avoid her sister's treacherous hands. "You should have said you couldn't see anything!"
"I could see perfectly fine," Elsa said haughtily, "but Mr. Snuggles tried to raise objections to the union. His underhanded attempts at sabotage nearly cost the Cloud Prince everything."
Anna tried to let out a blustery sigh, but it was hard to do when a certain someone's tickling was making her choke back giggles against the saboteur's neck. "I was a young princess. I didn't know how important it was to choose a suitor who wouldn't trip over a stuffed bear and break their head open."
She could see Elsa blushing at that, and her hands went suspiciously still.
"I didn't break my head open."
Anna snorted, grinning as she took one of her arms out of the comfort of Elsa's embrace to trail her fingers through criminally silky hair. She brushed the very tips of them gently across the scar underneath. "You needed stitches." This time, she managed her sigh properly. "The gallant Cloud Prince, felled by a young cub."
Elsa leaned down, her warm breath sending delightful shivers down Anna's spine. "You married me anyway." She pressed an adoring kiss to her cheek. "The beautiful princess had mercy on the foolish Cloud Prince."
Anna's heart clenched. There was that apology again. They stood still in the quiet grove, holding each other and staring out at the fresh snow resting between the trees.
"I love you more," she said. "Than all… that."
"I know," Elsa said softly. Anna bumped her chin petulantly. It was exasperating how her sister could make that sound like a bad thing. She pulled her arms on top of Elsa's, leaning fully against her. Elsa's cheek nuzzled her hair; another apology, but this one was okay. Anna let the comfort lull her back to the post-wedding glow she'd had going.
It wasn't hard. The stars were crystal clear above them, the barest shadow of moon hanging in the sky, and the air smelled of pine and new fallen snow. The brisk cold even did the impossible and somehow made snuggling up to Elsa more enjoyable than it usually was. They could have fallen out of a Christmas card.
The contented stupor lasted several minutes before a shot of purple a meter away caught Anna's attention. Inspiration struck, and she disentangled herself from her sister and jumped forward, notably not slipping in her heels.
"Anna, what—"
"Wait, wait," she said, "hold on a sec, I've got this." She knelt down and plucked out the spark of vegetation and started twisting around the stem. When she stood up, she spun around, cupping the plant carefully.
"So, I mean, alright. How about this."
This, which had to be way too ridiculous and she was probably going to ruin everything even worse than they usually managed whenever this came up, but the dull moonlight brought out the sparkle in Elsa's dress and hair and everywhere, and Anna was already feeling withdrawal from the few seconds without cuddling, and, well.
Her tongue fumbled in her mouth, the words spilling out.
"Elsa," she said, presenting the impromptu flower ring with an exaggerated flourish that hid her trembling fingers (it was cold), "do you take me as your unlawfully wedded wife, to have and to hold, to cherish and love, for better and—forever?"
And it wasn't ridiculous.
It wasn't ridiculous, because beyond all comprehension, Elsa looked at her the way she always did—like she was the lucky one. Like Anna wasn't the one who got the better deal. Sometimes she thought that look should break her heart, but more than anything it filled it with such impossible love that it overflowed and left her drowning and flailing about for something solid to remind her that a world beyond Elsa's eyes existed.
This time, she found Elsa's hand, one particular finger curling through the looped flower in Anna's palm.
"I do," she said softly.
"…Oh." Anna gulped. Her mouth twitched upward, uncontrollably, and she had a sudden need to blink. A lot. "Good."
Elsa laughed, a small sob slipping out as her lips mirrored Anna's inspired response. "And will you—" Her fingers entwined with Anna's, the touch of the one with the stem slipped around it doing funny things to Anna's pulse.
"Will you have me?"
"Always," Anna said, her cheeks aching.
They were staring at each other now, matching goofy smiles and shimmery eyes. Anna thought she'd be jumping up and down, but she was in heels, and there was ice, and she wasn't looking away from Elsa until someone forced her.
Anna bit her lip, trying to cut back on the beaming and failing horribly. "This is the part where you kiss the bride."
A rosy flush covered Elsa's cheeks, and she surged forward, dropping their joined hands to cup Anna's face. Their foreheads nearly banged together, but of course they wouldn't because even if Anna could handle it, Elsa could never help being gentle; never stop treating her like the most precious thing in the world, and Anna's heart might really burst now and her lips were right there—
"You'd better get on that, then," Elsa breathed hoarsely, nudging her nose against Anna's.
Anna choked on her laughter, rushing forward and humming a tune of pure jubilation against Elsa's lips.
She really did love weddings.