#elsaxmerida

All or Nothing

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Note: I have a lot of weddings to attend and a lot of jobs to do this season so my updates may go back to being sporadic for a bit. Hopefully I'll be back to normal by the end of July.

Also, a reader noticed that the timeframe of this story has taken a leap forward, and I'd like to take a moment to explain that this is very deliberate. While Elsa and Merida were in close proximity time was slowed down to appreciate their relationship, but as they are separated now it's a bigger picture and history is being made in broad strokes. I'm in this ship for the long haul.

…..

…..

Late autumn brought the beginnings of the winter chill to the borders of Arendelle, and the country's farmers were finishing up their harvesting and filling their granaries when Arendelle's high council decided it was high time they hosted a harvest ball.

Any and all parties had been tiptoed around since the notorious coronation incident. They had a yule celebration the year after, and they had celebrated Anna's birthdays and her official engagement to Kristoff. Visiting traders were allowed to celebrate their national holidays in the open market and the local townspeople held spring festivals and summer fetes without any input from the royal family or the council. Elsa was perfectly happy with this.

“Anna can host it,” she told Holm, who had been sent to speak to her. “She'd be delighted to.”

Holm grunted under his breath (as she knew he would) and shook his head.

“You have not been seen properly in public for far too long, your highness,” he told her sternly. “There are rumours amongst the townspeople that you are on your deathbed.”

Elsa groaned into her hands, mostly to get on Holm's nerves. Of all of her advisors, she found him the most irritating.

“I dispelled the early snows on the balcony just last week. I looked healthy enough then, right? No reason to throw a ball....”

“It's not just for the benefit of the townspeople,” he continued. “Our foreign trade officials would like to speak to you outside of office, and some royal visitors would do wonders for your public image...”

“Is my public image suffering then?” she asked snidely.

He didn't answer, just stared her down.

“Fine, fine,” she grumbled. “Throw the damn ball. I'll sign whatever you need me to.”

…..

“I know it doesn't make any sense,” she explained to Merida later. “Don't focus on the name. It's just a big party.”

“Why don't you people just make new words when you need them?” Merida grumbled, idly tracing circles on the sheets.

“Take it up with the linguists,” Elsa told her. “It's a large gathering of people and we have to attend, that's all you need to know.”

“I know why you have to attend,” Merida shot back. “Why do I have to?”

“By royal decree?” Elsa offered.

“You're not my queen.”

“True,” Elsa nodded, flopping back against the pillows. “But it's going to be an ordeal for me as it is. If you were there it would be at least a little more bearable.”

“That's black-....black-something....”

“Blackmail,” Elsa corrected. “Yes, it is. Is it working?”

“Fine,” Merida shrugged. “I'll go.”

“Marvelous. You'll be seeing the dressmaker in the morning.”

“Awfully sure of yourself, aren't you?”

Elsa didn't reply, just kissed her, and that was that.

…..

The doors were opening to the main ballroom, and she'd been wearing her heavy cloak for less than an hour and already she felt the strain in her shoulders.  From under her window she could hear Anna's chirpy voice greeting the visitors. Elsa sighed; it was going to be a long night.

There was a gentle knock on the chamber door.

“Come in,” she groaned, and the person obliged. Elsa turned to greet them, and instantly felt like the wind had been knocked out of her.

She'd long suspected the royal seamstress, who spoke about ten words a year and had a permanent frown etched on her face, had a soft spot for Merida. She didn't complain as much as Elsa or fidget as much as Anna, and was perfectly fine standing on a chair in her underwear stoically being stabbed with pins.

The woman had clearly gone out of her way to make Merida look as stunning as possible, tossing out the customary velvet bodice and painted silk for sapphire-blue silk chiffon with gold embroidery. The back of the gown was high enough to cover her scars and dipped teasingly low in the front, and a gold brocade sash nipped in her waist. The skirt wasn't overly full, but floated with every step. To top it off, the royal dresser had pulled her hair to one side, wrapped it in gold cord and set small gold flowers into the curls.

“What?” Merida shrugged awkwardly, and Elsa realized she'd been staring in silence for who knew how long.

“Sorry,” she said breathlessly. “You...you look beautiful...”

Merida chuckled and went pink in the cheeks, fiddling with the end of her hair.

“It's a bit fancy for my liking...” she mumbled. “But it's not too tight, at least.”

“Which is more than I can say for this,” Elsa laughed, tugging at the closure on her cloak. “I feel like a cart horse lugging this thing along behind me.”

“I thought you were going to make a dress?” Merida asked, dropping lightly into a chair in front of the fire to warm her feet. “Like your ice gowns?”

“It's not proper,” Elsa answered. “I have to wear the royal emblem at public functions, and it never lasts when I try to make it in ice. It splinters too quickly.”

Merida laughed softly and rolled her eyes, but didn't comment. Adjusting her collar one last time and smoothing a stray hair back into her rolled braid, Elsa reached out a hand to pull her to her feet.

“Follow me downstairs in ten minutes,” Elsa told her. “I have to be formally announced.”

Merida took her chin in her hand and kissed her on the cheek softly.

“Good luck,” she said, and then she was gone.

…..

Two hours into the ball, and the ache in Elsa's shoulders was matched by a climbing ache in her jaw from holding her smile in place. She'd been greeting dignitaries and visiting royals at a rate of one every five minutes and trying desperately to remember who they all were, and it was exhausting.

Anna had finished her royal duty some time ago, and was freely sweeping across the ballroom with a stumbling Kristoff, rather too close for comfort. Elsa raised a reproachful eyebrow at her, but was met with a rebellious clenched jaw and hand gesture.

I know what you've been up to, you don't get to talk about my love life anymore! She could almost hear her say from across the room.

She hadn't seen Merida at all, and it concerned her. There were objectively more beautiful women in the ballroom (though to Elsa's eyes Merida outshone them all) but she looked different to everyone else, and looking so polished as she did this night was bound to attract unwanted male attention. That little uneasy sickness at the pit of her stomach grew as she watched handsome young men mill about the room, sneaking glances at any unaccompanied young woman.

“Cousin Elsa!” a soft, musical voice trilled. “It's wonderful to see you again.”

She started as a small hand landed on her shoulder, and was pulled away apologetically. She stared into the enormous doll-like green eyes of the woman in front of her, who was nervously biting her lip.

“Cousin Rapunzel,” she said, smiling genuinely this time. “I'm sorry, I was distracted. I almost didn't recognize you.”

Princess Rapunzel of Corona wasn't truly a cousin; their royal lines had been connected by marriage over three hundred years before but the two women hadn't a single drop of blood in common. Still, they and other royal families with close alliances used the term 'cousin' interchangeably to denote how close they were.

And indeed, Rapunzel looked quite different. Elsa had seen her briefly at the coronation, and she and her husband had been whisked out of the country over the land bridge when Elsa went on her rampage, she had not seen either of them since. Rapunzel's short, spiky brown hair was now past her shoulders and a silky-smooth golden, only brown at the tips.

She touched her hair, a nervous gesture.

“It's been a long time, I know,” she said. “The blonde coming back was unexpected, there's no real magic left in it but still...”

All of the royal families had been told and retold about how the infant princess had been stolen from her crib because of the strong magic she possessed. Elsa had been warned to keep the nursery windows locked at night, to never sneak out of her bed, to always stay within sight of the palace staff, with this tale on everyone's lips. Some of the maids had gone further in their tales, said that the baby had been devoured by the witch, that she'd had her entrails carved out to make potions, that she was taken to be raised in the swamps by toads and eels, more creature than human.

Still, there were nights that Elsa wondered if she herself would be better off in the clutches of a woods witch, raised to revel in her magic, casting snow and ice far from the reach of human eyes. Who was to say Rapunzel's abductor had only the worst in mind for her? But then, Rapunzel had returned as a young woman, unharmed as far as anyone could see, and settled into her role as a princess as though she had never been taken.

The same could not be said for her husband, a commoner named Eugene something-or-other, who had to publicly sign away any claim to the throne before he could even propose to her. The rumour mill had pegged him as a petty thief and charlatan who had taken advantage of the young princess's naivete to get himself a kingdom. Elsa couldn't say for sure what the truth was; the few times she had seen him, he looked uncomfortable and strained in royal company. However, Rapunzel marrying a man from a humble background had paved the way for Anna's engagement to Kristoff, and for better or worse he made Anna happy.

“Where is Eugene tonight?” Elsa asked casually. Normally, he was glued to Rapunzel's side at these functions.

“He went out to the balcony for some air,” Rapunzel told her. “He got through about thirty meet-and-greets before he gave up.”

“If only we could call it quits so soon,” Elsa quipped, and they shared a quiet, conspiratorial laugh.

“When is Anna going to set a date for her wedding?” Rapunzel asked. “Eugene shouldn't be the only royal spouse to suffer.”

“It's complicated,” Elsa told her. “The advisor's council are dragging their heels on the paperwork, and Anna keeps skipping the meetings...”

“It's such a lot of fuss to be with the one you love,” Rapunzel sighed. “I almost envy you, Elsa. Things might have been much simpler if my country told me to stay unwed.”

“Well, that has its own problems,” Elsa told her, feeling a sharp pain in her heart. Marrying a commoner was messy, marrying another woman was unheard of. Although....

“You were the first, weren't you?” Elsa said, linking Rapunzel's arm with her own and tugging her towards a quiet alcove. “To marry someone with Eugene's background?”

“Sort of,” Rapunzel said with a slow blink. This was the longest time they had ever spent talking to each other. “The first princess. There were kings before me who married widows and kept their crowns...and those that married mistresses, but they had to abdicate. We had to read up on them before we could get engaged.”

“Who objected the most?” Elsa prodded. “Did it cause a lot of problems?”

“Well, my parents were fine with it,” she said. “They were just happy to have me back alive, whatever the circumstances....most of Corona's people took a public vote and were fine with it too....the noble families made a big fuss because they had a lot of sons they wanted to push as marriage prospects....but in the end the one who objected most was Eugene.”

“What?” Elsa spluttered. “Why?”

“He always said he felt I was too good for him,” Rapunzel said quietly, stroking the ends of her hair. “When they said he had no claim to the throne, he was relieved. He wanted me to be happy....but to be really happy I needed him to stay by my side, and so here we are.”

“That makes sense,” Elsa hummed. It could be done....somehow, she could find a way. Whatever objections her council and people could have to her marrying another woman, the marriage would have no children to pass her powers to, and Merida was a royal in her own right...what was the difference, really?

Just then, Rapunzel was tugged away by Anna to tackle the buffet together. All of the attending guests were spread out, eating and mingling and dancing. Finally, she could escape to the balcony for some fresh air herself.

As she approached the thick velvet curtains separating the balcony from the hall, she heard familiar laughter mixed with a man's low drone. Pulling back the drape, her stomach dropped the same way it had when she caught Meena talking to Merida.

Rapunzel's roguishly handsome husband was perched on the balustrade, telling some grand story to Merida, all expressive limbs and cheeky half-smile. Merida was enthralled, leaning in and nodding along and laughing at his dramatic flourishes.

It was irrational to feel this sudden, heated jealousy. Eugene was a married man, and Merida wasn't interested in men as far as Elsa knew. But to see them both together like this, comfortable and relaxed in each other's company.....Elsa had never seen the man relaxed full stop....it put her on edge. She breathed deep, trying to keep her ice under control. She sent it upwards, towards the roof. At least up there it could be blamed on the approaching winter.

“What's going on here then?” Elsa said, plastering her friendly smile on her face.

“Oh, your highness,” Eugene straightened up, visibly tense once again. “I was just talking to this young lady....”

“Princess Merida,” Elsa corrected, enjoying how he suddenly went pale.

“Princess?” he sputtered, looking over at Merida (and probably realizing he had been massively inappropriate.)

Merida just shrugged.

“Yes, well, I was just telling her some stories of things I did before I was married...”

“Have you been in here long? I think your wife might be looking for you,” Elsa told him smoothly.

“Yeah, okay,” he laughed nervously. “See you around....your highness. Highnesses.”

He scurried out as fast as he could. Elsa took his place on the balustrade beside Merida, who was sitting up against the marble gargoyle and didn't seem annoyed that her companion had left so suddenly.

“Why are you hiding out here?” Elsa asked.

“People keep asking me to dance,” Merida told her. “I can't dance. Especially in these shoes.”

“Nobody asks me to dance anymore,” Elsa sighed. “It's quite a relief, actually. I used to just send them off to Anna instead, now they go straight to her without asking me at all.”

“What if I asked you?” Merida teased. “Would you send me off to Anna?”

“No,” Elsa said, smiling sadly. “If I could, you'd be my one exception.”

Maybe they could dance at their wedding, she thought but did not dare say. Maybe they could have a wedding. Maybe they could be together, with no problems keeping them apart.

Once upon a time, a princess marrying a commoner was unheard of. Rapunzel had been the first. Elsa could also be a first. If they accepted her choice, why not Elsa's?

…..

As the ball was winding down, Elsa ended up on the flat platform roof, lying face down in the snow that had gathered up there. It was late enough that her absence wasn't that notable, but the dancing music was still playing and there were still a crowd on the ballroom floor. If she looked up, she could see their shadows whirling against the snow.

The trapdoor to the platform roof creaked open and Elsa heard someone pulling themselves out into the night air, shivering with the cold. The person tiptoed over beside her and sank down into the snow. Elsa turned over onto her back, looking up into Merida's face peering down at her.

“Were you asleep up here?” she asked.

“No, just resting,” Elsa mumbled. “You're going to ruin your dress, sitting in the snow like that.”

“I probably won't be wearing it again, right?” she said. “The dressmaker makes a new one for everything...”

She was holding the shoes that had been tripping her up all evening, and she tossed them off of the roof as hard as she could. They both watched them drop down in a copse of trees.

“Was that necessary?” Elsa drawled.

“I'll get them in the morning,” Merida replied. “Anyway, now that they're gone, I can dance with you.”

“What?” Elsa said, sitting up. “Here?”

“Why not? No-one can see us from here. And the music's still playing...”

“I thought you said you can't dance....”

“That's what I told them. I can, I just wouldn't,” Merida explained. “Unless it's with you.”

There were times when Elsa woke up at night, spent evenings staring into the fire, tuned out of meetings because she was sick with worry that Merida simply did not care about Elsa the way Elsa cared about her. There was always the lingering fear that this was just a nice way to pass the time for her, a bit of fun. But then there were times like now, when she just knew it wasn't all as one-sided as she feared it was. Nobody could ever make Merida do something she didn't want to do without a fight.

As she clambered to her feet, dropping her heavy cloak out of the way, the snow that had built on the roof was quickly thawing into water and trickling down from the eaves like summer rain. She curtseyed, stiff and suddenly awkward, and Merida copied her more lazily though she'd never quite mastered curtsying.

Elsa took her hand and pulled her close, winding an arm around her waist the way men usually held the women. But the first few steps were clumsy, she'd only ever been taught to dance with men and didn't know how to lead, and Merida didn't know how to follow. After having her feet stepped on for a third time, Merida yanked her forward until they each had a hip pressed against each other, an arm around her shoulder and hands entwined.

The music faded underneath them, and the shadows of the people in the ballroom grew smaller and smaller. They spun in circles together, half-dizzy and giggling. Merida's skirt caught droplets of water from the ground and tossed them into the air to shimmer in the moonlight.

It was all Elsa had ever wanted. It was perfect.

…..

If you'd given Elsa a choice, she could have spent the rest of her life buried between Merida's legs, inhaling her scent, surrounded by her soft skin. As it was she only got to spend most nights there, and it was nowhere near enough to satiate her. Sex tended to drive every problem she ever had, big or small, from her mind.

So naturally she didn't hear Merida's question and responded with a muffled groan.

Merida's hands pushed her head away and she re-emerged from under her skirt, red-faced and irritable, aching with lust.

“What?”

“You never told me what Anna said,” Merida prodded. “I haven't seen her since, what did she say?”

“Oh, that,” Elsa muttered. “I haven't talked to her yet.”

She tried to get back under the skirt, but Merida sharply pushed her away, sitting up. She looked furious (though it was hard to take her anger seriously with her bodice around her waist like that.)

“You haven't talked to her? It's been a week!”

“I know,” Elsa huffed. “I've been busy...”

“You haven't been that busy,” Merida snapped.

She began pulling her undergarments back on, to Elsa's dismay.

“Oh, don't,” she pleaded. “I'm sorry, I didn't mean to let it go on this long....I just don't know how to even bring it up with her....”

Merida paused in her buttoning (thank goodness) and softened a little.

“I know it's hard,” she said. “But it'll just get harder the longer you let it go on. You have to talk to her some time.”

“I know,” Elsa groaned, as the full reality of the hole she'd dug herself into hit her.

She'd actively been avoiding Anna since she'd caught them in the office, taking on more and more work she didn't even need to do, taking her meals in the office, emerging late only to make love with Merida and sleep. Even the thought of bringing up the subject with Anna made her cringe in horror, desperate to fill her mind with something else, anything else.

“I went years without talking to her,” she said hopelessly to the ceiling, flopping down across the bed. “And even when we did start talking again, we never talked about anything like this.”

“How did she tell you about Kristoff, then?” Merida asked.

“She didn't,” Elsa replied. “He just turned up the day after we unfroze everything and declared that he was in love with Anna...and it's nothing like what we have, he's not even allowed hold her hand in public before they get married.”

Merida snorted, and Elsa looked up. To her distress, she found that Merida was fully dressed and getting up to leave. She attempted to pull her back down to the bed, but her hands were gently slapped away.

“Why are you leaving? We were having fun...” Elsa moaned.

“I'm just distracting you,” Merida told her. “No more fun until you get this sorted.”

“That's not necessary,” Elsa grumbled. “I'll do it tomorrow, I promise.”

“Good,” Merida trilled pleasantly, opening the door of the sally port. “Then we can have more fun tomorrow night.”

With that, she was gone, leaving Elsa unbearably frustrated. Huffing, she grabbed the decanter of wine off of the nightstand; it was the only way she'd get some sleep.

…..

Elsa was tempted to call for Anna at the break of dawn. She'd tossed and turned all night, dreading this conversation but also desperate to get it over with. She held off until close to noon, pacing the floor, unable to settle her mind enough to do any actual work.

When the door of her office was knocked, she jumped.

“Come in,” she ordered, trying and failing to keep the quiver out of her voice.

At least when Anna did enter the room, she didn't look angry, or upset. Her face was strangely blank for someone who was normally so expressive. Elsa tried to smile reassuringly but it dropped when Anna didn't respond.

Elsa poured them both some tea, to give her nervous fingers something to do.

“Thank you for coming,” she began, passing the teacup to her sister. “I'm sorry, I've been putting this off for a while...”

Anna's face didn't change, she sipped her tea and waited for Elsa to keep talking. It was unnerving, not at all like her cheerful little sister.

“We need to discuss what you saw in the office the other day...” Elsa began.

“Yes. Exactly what did I see in the office the other day, Elsa?” Anna cut in.

Elsa's mouth opened and closed at Anna's sharp tone, but no words came out.

“I can tell you what I thought I saw,” Anna continued. “I thought I saw my older sister, the queen of my country, kissing a woman. And not just any woman, a refugee who happens to be a teenager...”

“She's eighteen,” Elsa cut in, more than a little shocked.

“Just turned eighteen,” Anna retorted. “What are you playing at? From where I was standing, it didn't look like the first time you'd been doing that....how long has this been going on?”

“Shortly after the Dunbroch natives left,” Elsa told her. “We've been lovers since then.”

“Oh my God,” Anna groaned. “Do you realize how much trouble you'd be in if someone else had walked in instead of me?”

“Most people know how to knock,” Elsa bit back.

“Yes, it's my fault for not knocking...how rude I was to interrupt you committing abomination!”

Elsa started, for these words sounded bizarre coming out of her little sister's mouth. She had never been particularly devout...in fact, she'd been scolded so many times for fidgeting in church that she used to make herself sick to avoid Sunday mass.

“Stop,” she said, holding her temple to keep her temper in. “I know that's not you speaking...tell me what you think.”

“Fine,” Anna said, softening. “You know that's what they'd say if they found out...nobody's ever come back from that kind of disgrace....I'm scared for you!”

Elsa chuckled, a little grimly. There was the sister she knew...

“You know, in Merida's culture this kind of thing isn't even considered strange?” she said.

“Merida's culture is backwards,” Anna retorted.

“Don't say that,” Elsa snapped. “And don't ever let her hear you say that!”

“As if I would,” Anna scoffed. “But while we're on the subject...how long do you think this is even going to last? She's going to go home eventually, and you'll have risked everything for nothing!”

That's not true. It's not safe there. This is her home.

“What do you want from me?” Elsa asked, shrugging helplessly. “That I should put everything I feel on hold because she might leave some day? The edict I signed said I could never marry a man, should I be happy to stay untouched by anyone forever?”

“There's no might, Elsa...she's going to go back to Dunbroch as soon as it's safe. You know that.”

“For all we know, Dunbroch will never be safe,” Elsa replied.

“So what, you're just going to keep her here as your dirty little secret? And she's happy with that?”

“Anna, I don't know what's going to happen in the future,” Elsa sighed. “All I know is that I've never been happier.”

“I'd like to be happy for you, I really would,” Anna sighed with her. “But I can see it all going horribly wrong...I just don't want you to get hurt.”

“If it does, I'll deal with it,” Elsa promised. “You don't have to worry.”

“I'm going to worry anyway,” Anna replied quietly.

…..

Elsa still felt emotionally drained by the talk with Anna by the time she made it to bed. She thought she'd be too tired to want to do anything sexual, but as soon as Merida made an appearance she had a sudden burst of energy.

Once they had finished and were lying half-on and off the sheets, Merida asked how it had gone.

“I don't like being scolded by my younger sister,” Elsa grumbled into the skin of Merida's stomach. “But she accepted it in the end.”

“Not like she had much of a choice,” Merida laughed. Elsa enjoyed the tremor rocking her aching head gently.

“How would your family have taken it?” Elsa asked.

“They'd probably have been delighted,” Merida told her. “You're a proper lady....my mother would have loved you. And an alliance with Arendelle would have been better than anything the other suitors could offer.”

That cheered her considerably. The people of Arendelle had accepted her powers...how hard would it really be to convince them that two women betrothed to each other was a good thing, especially if it brought a strong alliance with it? Dunbroch was unstable, but it could be strong again...

...and if it never became stable, it just meant that Merida would have to stay in Arendelle, with Elsa. Maybe eventually they could bring her brothers over, if that's what she needed to be happy...but she was happy, with Elsa.

Merida fell asleep as Elsa's mind mulled over and over. She had to consider her future some time, she couldn't keep putting it off. As the clock in the tower chimed for midnight, Merida rolled over in her sleep, away from Elsa, and Elsa's eyes followed her.

Her hair fell to the side, exposing her naked back to Elsa's sight. The last time Elsa had seen it, she'd been catching a stolen glance through a keyhole. Merida wasn't bashful when it came to her body, in fact Elsa envied how natural she was in a state of undress, but she was cagey about her back. Her voluminous hair acted as a veil most of the time, but even when they were having sex she tended to keep her back out of Elsa's hands.

It was strange to have such a full, clear view of the damage that had been done. The room was lit up by moonlight, dragging the scarring and the unmarked flesh into high contrast. Before she knew it, Elsa was brushing her fingers against the scars, feeling how deep they went, running her thumb against the healthy skin to feel the difference.

She had been touching the scars for some time, not even really knowing why, when Merida's breathing started coming out ragged. She mumbled something in her sleep, could have been Gaelic or gibberish. Elsa pulled back a little but did not stop.

She was sure the scars didn't hurt anymore; the whip had dug valleys into her skin but the nerves were dead and the flesh long healed. Merida's body was a map of scars, little and big, and it was fascinating for Elsa who didn't have so much as a childhood scrape. No scars bothered her so much as the ones on her back.

Elsa pressed a little more firmly at the base of Merida's spine, at the lowest scar. Merida flinched, and cried out. Shaking, Elsa pulled away and covered her with a sheet. She turned on her side, away from Merida.

Dunbroch was full of nothing but bad memories. Who was to say that Merida wouldn't choose to stay in Arendelle, where she was so happy? She had three brothers to take the throne, she could do as she wanted.

A Hijack Crossover AU with Avatar, The Last Airbender Reverse Hijack Bigbang

Team 1: Avatar the Last Airbender AU

tumblr @ function not working for me, will come back and edit when it is

Writer: http://whitepinkdandelions.tumblr.com/ | whitedandelions on ao3 Artist: http://spacerabbitdrawing.tumblr.com Beta: attemptingtotumble and http://citrusmewtwist.tumblr.com/ Link to Fic: http://archiveofourown.org/works/7168688 Link to Art: http://spacerabbitdrawing.tumblr.com/post/145749804555/team-5-avatar-the-last-airbender-au-artist Word Count: 17,431 Rating: Teen Genre: Romance/Adventure Characters: Hiccup, Jack, Elsa (Frozen), Merida (Brave), Rapunzel (Tangled), Eugene | Flynn Rider (Tangled) Other Pairings: Elsa/Merida, Rapunzel/Eugene Summary:

All or Nothing

She'd thought about it, of course, agonized over it. A few times she'd gotten up from where she'd been trying and failing to bury herself in work to find Merida, throw herself at her feet and beg for forgiveness, but every time she'd made it as far as the door and stopped dead, unable to go any further.

Just because it was the right thing to do didn't make it easy.

There was a sullen pall hanging over the castle. The servants were sulky and bored now that their interesting visitors had left. Elsa had been hiding away in her office since the...incident... at the table, taking all her meals there and inventing paperwork when there was none left to occupy herself with.

And Merida...

Elsa hadn't seen her at the tower, although she knew Lua was being fed and exercised. She had managed not to run into her at the dining table because mostly Merida hadn't been leaving her room to eat, and if she was haunting the halls again like she had at the start of her stay she chose to do it in the hours Elsa was asleep or working.

A full week had passed before anything happened.

That anything was Anna, who flung open Elsa's office door with such fury the doorknob took a chunk out of the wall. Elsa, startled, almost flung a sheet of ice at her but managed to stop herself.

“Anna,” she sputtered. “What....?”

“You need to talk to her. Now.”

Elsa thought to feign ignorance for a moment, but Anna's expression was murderous. She's never seen her cheerful little sister so angry.

“I don't think it would do much good,” she mumbled instead, and winced at how mulish it sounded when spoken aloud.

“You have to,” Anna hissed, stomping over to the table. “She won't listen to me. She's packing up her stuff, she says she's leaving tonight!”

The word leaving hit Elsa like a fist. She blanched, searched for composure and couldn't find it through her growing panic.

“She can't leave,” she blurted out. “That's insane, she has nowhere to go!”

“That's what I said,” Anna told her, throwing up her arms. “I told you, she won't listen to me! She said she's 'clearly outstayed her welcome.'

Elsa groaned, rubbed her temples to keep her shame at bay.

“I didn't mean it, I don't know what came over me.”

Yes, you do. You know exactly what came over you.

“Don't tell me, tell her! And do it quick!” Anna yelled, grabbing Elsa by the wrists and hauling her out of her chair.

Elsa fought against her sister's efforts to shove her out of the door, as much as she didn't want Merida to leave the idea of even talking to her again made her feel panicky. Anna half-pushed, half-dragged her across the office floor as Elsa dug in her heels and tried to pull herself loose.

“Anna, no, I can't...”

“You can and you will...”

“Just...ow! Let me go...!”

“You get up there and you make this better!”

Anna proved too strong in the end, Elsa took a moment to wonder how that had happened as Anna shoved her bodily into the hall, slammed the door and locked it.

“Don't come back 'til you've fixed it!” she called from inside.

Well. What choice did she have?

Her heartbeat thrummed sluggishly as she dragged herself through the corridors to Merida's room. Thankfully there were no servants around (probably all downing brandy in the kitchens) to ask her if she was okay. She might have turned around had she encountered one.

She stood outside Merida's door for a solid three minutes before she knocked. When there was no answer, she opened it softly and entered.

Merida's back was to her; she didn't hear her come inside. A small burlap sack, half-full, was squatting on the bed like a toad. She was holding up two dresses and threw one down with an annoyed huff, stuffed the other one into the sack as if it had insulted her somehow.

“What are you doing?” Elsa asked, quietly but sharply.

Truthfully, she would have liked Merida to be angry with her when she turned around, to spit at her that it was none of her damned business. Or cold silence, a refusal to acknowledge that she was there at all.

Instead, she looked right at Elsa, tense and nervous.

“I'm leaving,” she answered after a moment.

“Why?” Elsa blurted out, far more harshly than she meant to. “Where could you possibly go?”

“I'll figure something out,” Merida mumbled, stuffing a pair of flat shoes into the sack. “I've stayed here for far too long. I've taken advantage of your hospitality, and I'm sorry for that. I won't trouble you much longer.”

A flare of anger bubbled up inside of Elsa, directed more at herself than at Merida.

“You can't. I won't allow it,” she growled.

“You can't stop me,” Merida shot back.

Yes I can. I have to. Somehow.

“Everything you own is property of the crown,” she sputtered. “You're not permitted to remove it from Arendelle.”

It looked like Merida might lash out for a moment, her face crumpled with sudden fury, and just as suddenly it was gone.

“Saves me the trouble of packing then,” she muttered, tossing the sack off the bed. She stalked past Elsa and went for the door....

….only for Elsa to shoot a spout of ice across the handles, fusing them shut. It had happened instinctually, she barely felt herself do it, just knew she had to do something, anything to stop her. She stood with her hand outstretched, wanting to say something but unable to form words.

“What? Do you need the clothes I'm wearing, too?” Merida turned on her in a rage.

Elsa stared at her, speech stuck in her throat and refused to move.

“You don't want me here,” Merida continued. “I asked you to make me a servant and you wouldn't. You could have sent me to the refugee town and you didn't. What do you want from me?”

Elsa couldn't stop it.

It fell out of her mouth, she couldn't catch it.

“I want you.”

The words hung in the air, and now Merida's anger was obscured by confusion. If she could, Elsa would have clawed the words back, buried them inside of her so they would never surface again.

“What's that supposed to mean?” Merida asked her, shrugging helplessly.

“I don't want you to leave me,” Elsa whispered, because now that the words were out they wouldn't stop falling. “I want you to stay with me. I'm sorry, I'm so sorry....”

The first sob burst out of her and it brought her to her knees, it burned and ached but at the same time it was blessed relief. She couldn't even see Merida anymore, the tears were coming so fast and every time she tried to wipe them away there were more.

“You took my heart,” she sputtered between heaving breathes. “The first time I saw you, you took my heart and you've had it ever since. If you leave me, you'll take my heart with you.”

Distantly, she felt herself being gently pulled forward, her hands tugged away from her face and her tears wiped away. Merida's face swam back into focus through her bleary vision. Astonishingly, she didn't look angry anymore.

“That's what all this has been about?” she asked. “You've got....a thing for me? Is that right?”

A year and a half of feverish longing reduced to a thing. Even through her tears, Elsa had to laugh. She nodded, tremulously.

Merida made an odd sound under her breath, awkwardly pushed back her hair.

“Are...are you sure about that?” she asked. “I mean....have you seen you?”

“All I see is you,” Elsa mumbled.

Merida made the sound again. Then, she took a deep breath and seemed to decide on something. Elsa steeled herself. Rejection would be hard, but it couldn't be worse than....

“All right then,” Merida shrugged.

….what?

“What?” Elsa blurted out.

“We'll give it a go,” Merida told her, as if it was just that easy.

Elsa gaped, her mouth once again opened and shut with no sound. This was better than she could have hoped for.

“I don't think I feel as strongly as you do,” Merida continued, and now a rosy blush suffused her cheeks and swallowed up her freckles. “But I like you, I'm willing to try it out.”

“Yes,” Elsa said at last. “Yes, please.”

She smiled, though a few stray tears trickled through, and she could honestly say she had never been so happy in her life. Merida laughed.

“If it makes you smile like that, it has to be a good thing,” she said.

It was risky, and could shatter this thing that had been decided between them, but when Elsa took Merida's face in her hands and pulled her forward to bring their mouths together, she didn't pull away. They kissed, and it was tear-stained and salty but it was mutual and so sweet Elsa never wanted it to end.

Suddenly exhausted, Elsa slumped forward, and Merida caught her to cradle her against her chest.

“I'd best unpack then,” Merida grumbled, and despite herself Elsa laughed.

…..

The first weeks of their relationship (oh, what a thing to have! Even the word made Elsa grin like a halfwit) were comprised of stolen kisses, fleeting touches and crippling shyness. They had hurried moments in Elsa's office where Elsa would pull Merida onto her lap and press her mouth to hers, and trace along her throat to her collarbone. Merida didn't reciprocate quite, but let Elsa do as she pleased.

They had moments at the dining table where one would gently tap the other's foot with hers discreetly, to show she was thinking of her. When they passed each other in the hall they would risk a quick stroke of the other's hand.

Merida accepted it all with good humour, though now with her feelings out in the open Elsa's mind was plagued with a new worry; that her own feelings were so much stronger, and she could never quite know what Merida was thinking. She seemed to enjoy the affection, and it was quite enough to keep Elsa satisfied, but she was always wary of pushing her too far too fast.

And the thought of being discovered weighed on her too, she's had to warn Merida that it was technically against the law in Arendelle for two women to be together in this manner.

“So?” Merida had shrugged, playing casually with the end of Elsa's braid as she sat on her lap. “I'm not from Arendelle, and you're the queen.”

“It's not that simple,” Elsa groaned, running her fingers along Merida's spine.

“It should be. Whose business is it what we do with each other?”

“There are those in the castle that would make it their business,” Elsa mused. “We should figure something out, if you spend too much time in here the servants will gossip.”

Then it occurred to her; the sally port. Nobody had taken any notice of Meena while she used it.

“There's a passage in the castle almost nobody knows about,” she told Merida. “It leads right to my chambers.”

“Why would they build something like that in the castle?” Merida asked, astonishingly innocent.

“I think it was built to smuggle in the old king's mistresses,” Elsa answered. “That's why it's called a sally port, some of the kings were very fond of prostitutes.”

“Is that what I am then? A 'sally'?” Merida laughed, and Elsa gave her an affectionate little squeeze.

“No, of course not,” Elsa said. “But it is very discreet, Meena used it for months and nobody...”

She stopped, but of course she had said far too much. Merida frowned down at her, crossed her arms.

“Meena? The women with half a dress?”

Elsa gulped and nodded.

“What was she doing in the sally port, then? If it leads right to your chambers.”

“She was providing me with a ...service,” Elsa mumbled. Her cheeks flamed and she knew it served to make her look guilty.

“What service?” Merida asked sharply.

“You tell me, you were the one talking to her for three months,” Elsa shot back.

“She was talking to me, I was just being polite,” Merida growled. “But she came here to see you, didn't she?”

“We didn't do anything,” Elsa finally bit out. “ I couldn't. Not for lack of trying on her part....”

“Stop, I don't want to hear any more,” said Merida, getting up and making for the office door.

Elsa trotted after her, caught her just before she reached the door. She couldn't let her leave angry.

“Meena was a mistake,” she admitted. “Please don't hold it against me.”

Merida pouted for a moment, then nodded. She gave Elsa a quick, fleeting kiss, and then was gone.

Elsa stayed in her office and mused on it for a little while, and a pleased satisfaction filled her. She could not tell what Merida was thinking, truly, if she was just going along with all of this to make Elsa happy and because perhaps she found the kissing and touching pleasant.