🕑 Added 2014-10-31 17:51:18 +0000 UTC
Quick Learner Part 2 “I told you once!” Anna raised her voice. “Return me to Elsa! Right now!” “Can’t, m’lady.” Rumpelstiltskin shrugged in mocking apology. “There’s some form of magic criss-crossing your whole lovely island. I could no more transport you there than you could push your hand through a wall.” Anna guffawed. “Some Dark One! Not even as good as a decent boat—“ “Careful, dearie!” he chided, skin glistening as he lowered his head like a bull about to charge. “It’s one thing to be outwitted—such things happen now and then whilst you live thousands of years—but being insulted? That compels one to hold a grudge. And while you may be safe, I’d be just as happy to pay back your offense on your children, your children’s children, your children’s children’s children…” “No need for that,” Anna said hurriedly. “Maybe you could just put me nearby. I’m sure that wouldn’t be difficult for a sorcerer of your power…” “Don’t flatter me now, the moment’s past! But, as it so happens, I can feel the magic weakening. In short order, I should be able to get you there, if you still want to go.” “Why wouldn’t I want to go?” Anna asked. Rumpelstiltskin rolled his eyes. “If you come home to an intruder in your home, the door locked to keep you out, and they say they’ll open it in a moment and let you in, would you want to find out what they’re working on?” “Elsa,” Anna breathed. “You have to get me to her. I don’t care how dangerous it is!” “Very well, very well, little princess. No need to agitate yourself. I’ll have you there momentarily—how about a nice cup of tea while we wait?” *** Elsa wasn’t sure quite what to do. Ingrid had told her to get comfortable with her body, but it was her body. How could she be uncomfortable with it? It was only her powers she was uncomfortable with, and even them she was growing familiar with. She tried to make herself more comfortable than comfortable. Took a hot bath—which even she could enjoy—washed herself, combed the tangles from her hair. Then she tried touching herself how Ingrid had. In the place Ingrid had. Nothing happened. It wasn’t unpleasant; there was a kind of tickle that resonated warmly up her stomach. She tried to rub harder and increase the sensation, but it only led to a painful cringe between her legs. She took her hand away, not sure what she was doing wrong. Not even sure what doing it right would entail. Anna was counting on her to know these things and once more Elsa was failing her. In desperation, Elsa tried to do what she only half-thought she had seen Ingrid do. She extended a single slender finger and brought it inside her. It was tight, awkward—then a sharp jolt of pain had her whipping her arm away. With a curse, Elsa froze the bathwater into brittle ice, breaking free of it as she rose. It came off her in sheets of snow. She looked at her body, pale and sharp, and thought of how useless it was. Even if she were beautiful as Ingrid, what good would it be? Her power was around her neck like a millstone—even if Arendelle needed a sorceress, they had Ingrid. “Is it cold in here or is it just me?” Ingrid asked, looking the picture of royalty in the doorway, hands clasped in front of her just so, eyes concerned ever so slightly, mouth upturned in a just right smile of reassurance. “Aunt Ingrid…” Elsa’s arms moved, not hugging herself, but slightly adjusting themselves to cover herself as much as she could without implying that Ingrid would care to look at her. They were both women, after all. Related. There could be no more lust between them than there could be between her and Anna. “I thought I’d return your visit.” Ingrid stepped inside, shutting the door behind her. “And under similar circumstances, as well. I realize you’re not as liberal about such things as I am, but I thought compelled to step in before your frustration placed the castle right in the middle of a glacier.” Elsa flushed with embarrassment as much as her icy skin was able. “I… I tried and nothing happened. How can I tell Anna anything about her body when I don’t even know a thing about my own!?” “Calm yourself.” Ingrid waved a hand in the air. “The important thing is that you’ve tried. Now you know that you need help. Will you accept mine?” “How can you help me? What do you know about my body?” “Nothing,” Ingrid confessed. “But a husband knows little of a wife’s body on their wedding night. He learns. He deduces. She tells him, in her words and her gestures, her looks and her touch. Once you’ve learned how to read the signs, you’ll see them upon your own body as well as those of others. Like Anna.” Elsa forced her hands to move, exposing herself as she brushed some ice crystals from her body. “All I want is for her to be happy.” “She will be,” Ingrid promised her. “But first, let us attend to you. Your needs. Your sister isn’t here, and you can’t help her unless you first help yourself. Let’s make ourselves comfortable, shall we?” She sat back, an icy chair springing up underneath her as she fell, catching her perfectly. A wave of her hand and the tub was filled with downy snow. Another gesture, and Elsa felt compelled to lay down in it. It was soft and soothing to the touch, like lying upon a million feathers. She marveled at Ingrid’s control over her power. “Now, what did you think of on your last attempt?” “Think of?” Elsa replied. “The object of your desire? The person whose caress you felt in place of your own hands? Surely, there must be someone…” Elsa steepled her hands awkwardly on her belly. “There’s been no one. Kings aren’t exactly quick to send their heirs courting me—not when they might get back ice cubes.” Ingrid smiled knowingly; Elsa could imagine her having similar troubles and felt a brief flicker of kinship within herself. As frustrated as she was, at least she wasn’t alone. “Their loss,” Ingrid said consolingly, reaching over to place her hand on Elsa’s bare shoulder. “But surely there must be someone you find attractive? A charming serving boy? A strapping young guard?” “I’ve never thought of anyone that way,” Elsa confessed. “Maybe there’s something wrong with me. Like my powers. Like I was born—“ “There’s no more wrong with you than there is with me,” Ingrid assured her. “And I’ve taken many lovers.” “M-many?” Ingrid grinned at Elsa’s peaked eyebrows. “Well, perhaps not many. Suffice to say I’ve enjoyed myself. And very few of them ended up as ice cubes. Now, tell me who the most beautiful person in the kingdom is. Don’t think, just answer.” “Anna,” Elsa said confidently. She could still see her in her mind, as vividly as the day she left. Her simple clothes only drawing attention to the ornate beauty of her face and hands. Her mischievous face, so open and yet with secrets tucked into every facet of her bright eyes. Her smile. Her smile that could shine through anything. “Then think of her as you touch yourself.” “No!” Elsa was shocked at the very idea, hugging herself tightly. “She’s my sister! My family! I couldn’t possibly—think of her in that way. Not when I’m doing something like this.” “It’s not real, Elsa,” her aunt assured her. “Just a harmless fantasy. You wouldn’t be hurting her any more than you could kill her in a dream. And it will help you. Wouldn’t Anna want to help you, if she were here?” “Yes, I suppose,” Elsa conceded. “But not in that way. That wouldn’t… yield results.” “Let’s just try it and see. For my sake?” Ingrid took Elsa’s silence as agreement. She picked up Elsa’s hand and moved it to her thigh. “Here. Rub this place. Think of Anna. Think of her naked body… so vulnerable, so frail.” “I…” Elsa could see it. The freckles continuing down ruddy skin the color of a ripe harvest, The curves that Elsa had barely noticed developing in her long years of isolation, but now irresistibly drawing the eye. Her tender breasts. Her warm eyes. Her smile. “She doesn’t know what to do. She doesn’t know what she wants,” Ingrid continued. “But you do. You know how to make her feel good. Run your hand over her body. Gently—lovingly. She’s so warm, isn’t she?” Elsa bit her lip, feeling a need invade her body. As dire as she would need air or food or water, but this was between her legs, long-dormant, awakening hungry, demanding to be fed. She continued massaging her inner thighs, but the ache wasn’t coming from them. She moved her hands in between. Rubbed at the ache-that-wasn’t-sore, relieving it. Making it worse, somehow, too. No, more intense. She shied away from the new sensation, gliding her fingers up her smooth body, trying to go back to the pleasant feeling that she’d rubbed into her thighs, but the stirrings died too quickly. She needed them back. She thought of Anna’s warm pink skin—how good it felt to hug her, to hold her hand, to kiss her cheek—touched herself where she was wet and just as warm. “She’s so grateful to you, Elsa.” Ingrid had Elsa’s long hair in her hands now, stroking it with her hands as she stroked Elsa’s mind with her soft voice. Like a woman soothing a nervous cat. Or like Elsa remembered her mother touching her, in gossamer-fragile dreams that stayed with her for lovely moments before crumbling with the dawn. Ingrid kept touching and talking, talking and touching—Elsa would’ve felt she’d been lulled to sleep if that place inside her didn’t feel so incredibly, so wonderfully present. “She sees how much you care for her. Finally, she sees the truth of your love for her. Can you see the tears in her eyes, Elsa, as she realizes you would do anything for her?” “I would,” Elsa moaned, trying once more to reach into herself, this time finding her opening graciously accepting the intrusion. It felt like she was made of ice and now warm water was covering her, making her crack. “I’d do anything…” “Show her,” Ingrid said, her voice so insinuating, but her words so commanding. “Show her how much you love you. You’re the only one worthy of her. The only one who can protect her. You. No one else. Not Kristoff. Not Hans. You.” “Me,” Elsa breathed. “I, I want to make her feel like this!” “Why? When you can make her feel better? Open your eyes, dear niece. Look at me.” Elsa did. In Ingrid’s right hand, ice had formed into a long, cylindrical shape. Almost a foot long. Shaped suggestively. Like the illustrations Elsa had seen, but harder, thicker, seeming powerful instead of inert. Threatening. Or promising. It even had veins running through its glossy surface. And Ingrid brought it to her lips, kissing its head, taking it into her mouth. Sucking. Tonguing. The sight doing things to Elsa—making her picture doing the same to Anna. That was how it worked, right? The mouth and tongue, in Anna’s private place. Ingrid took the icicle from her mouth and Elsa just knew it was warm. As hot as ice could get. “Take it,” Ingrid said, and when Elsa did, it was like holding a torch in her hand. The end burning. Dangerous. She brought it down her breasts. Down her belly. Into the sparse white hair of her groin, holding its handle tightly, then using its warm head to open herself. Touch herself. She had no idea she could be so sensitive there. More cracks ran through her ice. She felt like she was melting—about to break apart. “Show me what you’ll do to Anna,” Ingrid cooed. Elsa obeyed. She stretched and parted and wrapped herself around the shape. It didn’t hurt at all. And it wouldn’t hurt Anna either. It would make her feel good. So good… “Show me what Anna means to you,” Ingrid continued, eyes burning in her cold face. Elsa’s breath rushed out of her in a whoosh, curling into white vapor like a snuffed flame. God, she could do this to Anna. Her head swam, imagining hovering over Anna the way Ingrid was hovering over her. Her body felt so prepared, like it’d been waiting to do this. Her sex held the icicle so snugly, so right. Ingrid put a finger on her wrist, prodding the hand that held the icicle so it drew out of her. Elsa whimpered in protest, but was powerless to stop the dwindling of her pleasure. Ingrid had brought her too much joy for her to disobey her. But then Ingrid curled her fingernail across Elsa’s skin, drawing it back with a pull of her crooked nail, and Elsa gasped as the icicle went back inside her. All the warm places inside her getting even hotter. Yes. In and out, in and out. Elsa pumped faster and faster, as fast as her body would allow, her sex trying to hold to the ice as it was pulled away, fight it as it returned. “And, once you’ve taught Anna…” Ingrid applied the killing stroke. “Imagine her doing this to you.” Elsa gurgled, her lips twisting to form words but only her throat able to make a sound. She couldn’t hold her head up any longer. She fell back to stare at the ceiling, the icicles forming, pushing down toward her like they wanted to be inside her too. Her mouth was wide open. Her eyelids dropped. She imagined Anna’s inner lips grabbing at an icy shaft, swallowing its cold length. She’d be even more heated than Elsa was. It’d be like fire and ice. Her voice rose in a powerful moan—“Anna!”—her body twitched and convulsed like a snowflake fluttering down from a cloud—“Anna!” –she kept up the hasty motion as long as she could, even as her sex seemed far too sensitive for the self-inflicted onslaught—“Anna!” But even the pain was exquisite. “Anna!” she screamed at the top of her lungs, as potent as the song she’d sung to herald her freedom and magic, and her body was truly out of control and her magic was reversed and pure warmth was flowing out of her and the icicle had melted inside her and become a stream that gushed out of her in gulps of pleasure and it was like drinking mouthful after mouthful of spiced wine and she opened her eyes and Anna was there in a swirl of smoke and she saw Anna looking at her and she was still coming and Anna was still looking and it felt wonderful and it felt horrible and she looked down at her body’s like it was a stranger’s and Anna looked at her like she was a stranger. “What—what were you doing?” Anna asked. “Why were you saying my name?” “I was… I had…” “She was thinking of you,” Ingrid said, leaning back in her chair like she’d received as much pleasure from the interlude as Elsa. “But I’m her…” Anna looked at Ingrid as if momentarily curious who she was, but then turned to a far more important matter—Elsa. “We’re sisters.” She looked down at the water that had flown from Elsa’s body. It was melting into the snow beneath her. “We’re sisters!” “It was just.” Elsa looked desperately to Ingrid, who was no help. “A harmless fantasy. Like a dream. I needed your… help.” “I aroused you?” Anna demanded. “You thought of—you imagined me—and it aroused you?” The words spilled out of Elsa like blood from a deep wound, catching Anna in their spray. Maybe that’s why her face was turning so red. “It’s because I love you, Anna! You’re the only one I care about—the only one I want to care about! I want us to be together! I thought of us being together and it felt so good… it felt right! I know it’s strange—” “No. No, it’s not strange.” Anna gathered her hands in front of her like a ward. “It’s sick. And wrong. And I never would’ve thought you were capable of something like this, of asking me something like this. Don’t you… do you even see me as your sister?” “Of course, I just see you as—more.” “No, you don’t see me at all!” Anna yelled. “Otherwise, you never would’ve hurt me like this! I thought you were my sister, but you’re some kind of… pervert! And you actually thought—you actually thought—that I would want this? Just throw away my life with Kristoff and be with you? Be your…” Her voice burned its way out of her. “Lover?” “Anna…” Elsa said helplessly. “It was the happiest I’ve ever been… imagining you feeling the same way.” “Well, that will never happen. And if you still want to be my sister, I suggest you find a way to forget that you ever thought something so terrible. Because otherwise, I can’t even be around you. Not knowing this is how you feel.” She left, her boots cracking ice every step of the way, and Elsa couldn’t breathe. When Ingrid reached for her, the barest touch had her flung against Ingrid’s body, clinging to her, being held by her. Sobbing with her. “I’m sorry,” Ingrid said, not ice but diamond, a strength that held Elsa upright as she broke apart. “If I had known… you still have me, Elsa. You’ll always have me.”
