Epilogue

Two years later

Two years. Had it really been two years already?

Hand halfway to the doorknob, Anna paused and reflected.

Indeed, it was just under two years prior that she had stood outside Elsa's door, no longer locked out, but on the verge of being let in like never before. So much had changed since then.

For one thing, it wasn't Elsa's door anymore. It was theirs.

Of course, it wouldn't make any sense for a married couple to sleep in separate beds, let alone separate rooms. The move-in had happened unceremoniously, with servants bringing over her things while the two were still on their honeymoon. It was all very logical, yet it meant so much more to her than that, for entirely illogical reasons.

Carefully, Anna slowly eased open their door and tiptoed over to their bed. A part of her felt rather amused that she still found that much meaning in this fact, even after nearly two years. A small part.

Elsa lay under the sheets, breathing slowly. A single pale arm rested atop them, just as unclothed as the woman it was attached to.

Initially, Elsa had been reluctant to sleep in the nude. Not out of modesty – a concept that Anna had associated with Elsa for years, but now found wholly inaccurate – but practicality. She had argued that, by sleeping nude, she would be implying that, when it came to being in bed, sleeping was secondary – which, of course, could lead to a drastic lack of sleep and seriously hinder their daytime productivity.

As it turned out, she had been correct. Evidently, the tradeoff was worth it.

Tonight, however, it seemed this would not be the case. Elsa had retired early, exhausted from the day's events, which happened far more often than Ann would have liked – which is to say, at all. But, as a queen herself, Anna had had to learn the virtue of temperance, and to recognize when Elsa just wasn't in the mood.

She tiptoed forward another step, and her dress evaporated.

Anna smiled. Now, for example, she is in the mood.

Another idea hilarious in hindsight was that Anna wearing dresses exclusively created by Elsa would provide restraint. Per Elsa's initial pitch, she would have full control over the clothing, which would allow her to prod Anna awake if she was nodding off or remind her to pay attention without having to reach over and touch her.

Instead, it meant that Elsa could fully dissolve any part of Anna's clothes at any time, and for every modicum of restraint this provided Anna, it eliminated a mountain of Elsa's. And, of course, she touched Anna more than ever.

Elsa rolled over, casting aside the bedsheets as she did so. "I thought you'd never show up."

Anna planted her hands on her hips, trying to appear indignant, which wasn't easy, considering she was both completely naked and not the least bit indignant. "You said you were tired and needed to go to bed early."

"But it was the truth," Elsa responded. "I did need to go to bed early – so I could save what energy I had left for you."

Anna shook her head. "Elsa," she said, clambering into bed, "I think I've been a bad influence on you."

"I know," Elsa said, wrapping her arms around Anna. "Isn't it wonderful?"

"Yea-" was the last sound to escape Anna's mouth before Elsa's mouth sealed it off.

xxxxxxx

Anna's sleeping form was the most beautiful thing in the world. Well, tied with her waking form.

Elsa lay there, propped up on one elbow, staring lovingly at her sister's body. Two years later, and she still hadn't decided which part she liked more – the passion while awake, or the beautiful tranquility of watching her asleep after.

It's okay, she reminded herself. I've got the rest of our lives to figure it out.

It was amazing how much had changed in such short time. For more than a decade, her whole life had been solitude and self-loathing. Now, Anna was her whole life.

A breeze blew through the open window, its crispness making Elsa shiver. She started to pull up her covers, then rejected this action in favor of scooting closer to Anna and throwing her arms around her again. Her contented sigh confirmed that she had made the right choice.

It wasn't always perfect, of course. They still had fights every now and then. Sometimes it was her fault, sometimes it was Anna's – sometimes it was impossible to tell. Anna had made her cry, and she'd done the same. But she never broke her promise, and even when Anna was furious at her, or she at Anna, they both knew that eventually they would forgive each other. And when they did finally make up, their happiness was all the more precious for the turmoil they had been through.

Very carefully, she brushed a strand of hair away from Anna's face and tucked it behind her ear, knowing fully well it would be all for nothing by the morning. That, too, was okay. Some might say it would be impossible to find beauty in bedhead Anna, but there was something about it that Elsa found utterly divine.

Probably the "Anna" part.

The breeze died down, but Elsa made no move to separate herself from Anna. Nor did she have any plan to. She wished, more than anything else in the world, that this moment, with Anna in her arms, could last forever.

Oh, well. I'll just settle for the two of us living happily ever after together.

And they certainly did.

The end