#cat!olaf

“Yes I have,” Elsa tossed over her arm, searching for her next handhold. “I climbed all fifty stories of the North Mountain Hotel for that charity fund.”

“This is not the same thing!”

“I’ll be fine Anna,” Elsa hiked herself up another couple of inches, feathering the ground with dead pine needles. “Besides, who else is going to make the gelato? Me? It always tastes better when you make it.”

So here Anna was, in the kitchen of their shared home, prepping a frozen treat for a wonderful sunny day, watching a blonde head rise up, up, up in a canopy of green and brown. Occasionally there’d be another deluge of needles or the clatter of pinecones bouncing between branches, but shockingly, Elsa was making good progress. Little Olaf had stopped crying and was curled up into a quivering white ball.

“Poor little guy,” Anna said, putting the last of the ingredients into the gelato maker and flicking the switch. “I’ll have to let him have a little spoonful when this is ready.” She knew Elsa would chide her and say Olaf shouldn’t get any because he ran out of the house, but Anna also knew that underneath Elsa’s stern exterior was a massive softie. A softie who would almost certainly sneak Olaf a bite even after a lecture.

A buzz had Anna patting her back pocket for her phone, but she had no new messages. Another buzz came, this time Anna found Elsa’s phone abandoned on the counter. Just an email, but something else did catch Anna’s eye. The phone was playing music.

Curious.

It wasn’t coming out of the speakers, that much was obvious. Maybe it was connected to one of the various bluetooth devices in the house. Elsa liked to listen to music in her office and a few months ago they’d installed speakers in the living room for karaoke nights.

Anna grabbed the phone off the counter, walking out the screen door to ask Elsa about it.

Her question died in her throat.

Elsa had reached Olaf and was in the middle of extending her hand out to him. She was leaning precariously away from the tree, trying to coax him closer, but that’s not what made Anna’s mouth dry out in heart palpitating fear.

Elsa was high, so high that the branches had started to thin out and thin down. The one she’d chosen to plant her feet on was bending way too far, and Anna did not like the sounds it was making.

Anna cupped her hands over her mouth. “Elsa!” No response. “Elsa, move your feet!” Olaf looked down at the sound of her voice, but Anna could read Elsa’s lips as she reached out even further to regain Olaf’s attention.

‘Almost... there.’

Panic rose in Anna’s chest. Why wasn’t Elsa listening to her? She watched Elsa retract her hand just long enough to move a piece of hair out of her eyes and behind her ear. Anna squinted. Then she looked at the phone in her hand, the one still playing music without sound.

“Oh my god,” Anna whispered. “She’s wearing airpods.”

CRACK.

It all happened in a few seconds. The branch snapped, Elsa fell, eyes wide with surprise as the sudden onslaught of gravity made her weightless. Anna’s feet pounded the earth, bringing her to the base of the tree just in time to catch her sister.

But physics is a fickle mistress and both women had plenty of momentum.

Anna’s knees buckled at the sudden weight in her arms and she and Elsa rolled forward, coming to a decisive and loud stop when they crashed against their neighbor’s fence. Anna was upside down, feet above her head, Elsa splayed across her middle, limbs everywhere, both of them breathing heavily and staring up at the sky.

“Wow,” Anna managed after a few minutes. “Those memes are not as funny in real life.” She looked down at Elsa, who was staring at her oddly, but that’s not what made Anna bust out laughing.

Elsa’s hair was a mess. Pine needles stuck out this way and that, knotted in her bangs and making her braid look like a porcupine. Patches of hair were absolutely slathered in sap and dotted with chips of bark. She had scratches everywhere: her face, her arms, her legs, there was hardly a single inch spared.

She was completely undignified and it was sending Anna into mild hysterics.

“Oh my god my ribs,” Anna wheezed, slapping the ground as she howled with laughter.

“Your ribs,” Elsa griped, picking needles out of her hair and flicking them at Anna’s face. “I’m the one who fell out of a tree. My back is going to be so sore tomorrow.”

“Well I practically got my arms ripped off catching you, so I think we’re even,” Anna winced, slowly regaining control of herself. “Jeez you’re heavy, get off me.”

There was a small sound behind Anna’s head that stopped both of them. Anna craned her head back and Elsa propped herself up on an elbow, digging into Anna’s hip.

Olaf mewed again, tottering on baby kitten legs up to Anna’s forehead and giving it a quick tap with his paw. Anna beamed.

“Hey little guy!” She curled a finger under his chin, feeling his little purrs. Then she frowned. “Wait, does that mean he--”

“Climbed down by himself,” Elsa groaned, leaning back and putting all of her weight on Anna again, whose protests were ignored. “I feel so stupid.”

“Stupid for climbing a tree with no experience, or stupid for doing that while wearing airpods?”

Elsa dug the heels of her hands into her eye sockets. Anna patted her shoulder. “It was a noble gesture. I’m sure Olaf felt much braver seeing you come to get him.”

As if to confirm her words, Olaf jumped up on Elsa’s chest and buried his head into her shirt. Elsa scratched him behind his ear.

Anna went to do the same but her hand came away sticky from Elsa’s shoulder. “Uh oh, the sap is starting to harden.”

“Well, I think this outfit is ruined anyway,” Elsa sighed. “At least there’s gelato to look forward to.”

“Yeah, that’s great and all,” Anna grunted, “but I’m starting to not be able to feel my legs, so if you could get off so that I could enjoy some of that sweet, delicious, frozen goodness, I would appreciate it.”

---

A detangling of appendages, two generous portions of gelato (and a little for Olaf), and an hour of hair brushing later, Elsa was finally back to normal and Anna was ready for the day to be over. They’d checked all the doors and windows of the house to make sure Olaf couldn’t get out again and had met back in their bedroom. No point in changing into a new pair of clothes if they weren’t going out, Elsa had said, so might as well make it pajamas.

Anna watched Elsa examine her shirt, frown pulling at her brows as her fingers wormed their way through yet another hole.

“I really liked this shirt,” Elsa pouted.

“I can get you another one.” Anna walked forward, putting her hand over Elsa’s to stop her picking.

“But I’ve worn this one to perfect softness.” Anna acquiesced with a shrug of her shoulders and a nod. That was harder to replace, but she was confident they could find another. Right now though she was a little distracted.

“We got this visiting that forest preserve up north, remember?” Elsa stretched the shirt down, extending the printed design. It was a snowflake of sorts, four sharp diamonds arranged around a spiked star center. It had come with a passionate tale from the tour guide about an ancient wrong being righted by an act of good faith, spiced up with tales of spirits and natural disasters. “The forest was so beautiful in the fall, all orange and red. And the air was so crisp and clean, every lungful was refreshing.” Elsa bounced her eyebrows. “It was pretty romantic, don’t you think?”

“Uh huh,” Anna replied unhelpfully. She’d been unable to put her finger on what was different when Elsa had walked into the room, but now that Elsa had mentioned the forest, it clicked.

Anna sniffed appreciatively. “Mmmmm, you smell good.”

Elsa scoffed, pulling her shirt over her head. “I smell like a tree.”

“No,” Anna pressed herself close, burying her face into the side of Elsa’s neck, breathing deep. She walked her fingertips over Elsa’s now bare abdomen. “I mean you smell good.”

“Oh.” Anna smiled against Elsa’s skin -- at how her throat bobbed when she swallowed, at how her sister’s skin flushed red hot.

Elsa coughed to recover. “Maybe I should fall out of trees more often. Or light a candle if this is all it takes.”

“You shouldn’t say that to your rescuer,” Anna admonished, pulling back.

“You’re right,” Elsa huffed, but the way she looked at Anna was gentle. “What would I do without you?”

“You’ll always have me.”

Elsa smiled and pressed her forehead against Anna’s, bringing that smell of pine back, filling Anna’s lungs. Anna's eyes darted down to Elsa’s lips.

“And if you don’t mind,” she said, hooking her fingers through the belt loops in Elsa’s shorts. “I’d like to have you, please.”

“Now?”