shall we dance? // thesummertoherwinter & icesolate
The best part of a gala was the dancing.
Ever since implementing the open door policy, ballroom parties became more and more frequent, the previously secluded citizens of Arendelle taking every opportunity to mingle within the castle walls.  Commoners and dignitaries alike spoke at social gatherings, social class statuses forgotten in the heat of the spritely waltzes. It was difficult containing her happiness at seeing her people get along so well.
As Arendelle’s monarch, the obligatory doctrines of queenly elegance compelled her to wear an amiable smile at all times – which meant she could never be too enthusiastic. More than once, while watching Anna stumble gracelessly with her dancing partners, limbs floundering into faces and solar plexuses alike (the poor gentleman had to be sent to an infirmary that day), Elsa had to contain a burst of laughter by transforming it into a dainty cough hidden behind a fist. Other times, though, Elsa found it hard to keep her jaw from dropping as Anna’s dancing partners dropped her into a precarious dip, her little sister swooning back and laughing, her dress dangerously close to exposing the pale skin beneath her cleavage. Â
Elsa gulped.
There was a reason she enjoyed dancing simply as an admirer and not a participant. She was sure that if she’d been the one dancing with Anna, having their bodies brush against each other, seeing her flushed face, smelling the lingerings of chocolate fondue on her scent, feeling her hot, ragged breaths graze her own cold skin, she’d just lose it. Staying on the sidelines shut down any chance of her being traded off to Anna as a dancing partner. It was safer this way.
The lights dimmed ever so slightly as a waltz ended, dancers on the floor wiping off sweat with napkins before reuniting with their partners. Papers rustled as the musicians flipped their sheet music. Dancers looking on expectantly for their new rhythm, and a solo violinist stood up, dragging his bow across the strings with a flourish, introducing a swingy tango tune. As the solo wound down, the rest of the musicians accompanied the violinist with their backbeats.
Elsa scanned the area, blinking in surprise when she saw that her younger sister still hadn’t joined the rest of the party. Was something wrong? Walking over to her, she leaned over to playfully whisper in her ear, “Looks like I need to find a way to teach people that it’s not at all courteous to leave the Princess of Arendelle without company, because surely you’d be dancing by now.”
