frozenfractals | [early October]

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jessica drew

[early October]

Truthfully, Elsa feels incredibly stupid. The ice slide was, in theory, a good idea, yes, but in practice, much more solid than anticipated. Dropping down the way she had, toppling like that — well, she should have seen it coming. She's not eight years old anymore. She can't just plop down on solid ice and expect it not to hurt.

Or, apparently, end in a broken leg.

Explaining it to the doctor wasn't easy, but it's all over now, her leg in a cast as she makes it back to her apartment. She rests on her crutches, fumbling in her purse for the keys to let them in. "Thanks for coming with me," she sighs to Jessica. She wouldn't have expected anything else, but it's still nice to have the company.

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"Well, of course," Elsa says with a laugh. It's delightful every time she's reminded how much they still have to learn about each other, even after years of knowing each other. There are still stories to be told, even as there are stories to be written. In any case, it all seems very natural to her that there should have been bells. "It's not like we could call them. We didn't have phones. And just shouting their names would have been rude. Ringing the bells let them know where they were needed."

"Are we talking little independent bells, or did you have levers with strings that went down into the bowels of the castle," Jessica said, now fully engaged in trying to picture this. Bells did make sense, as Elsa pointed out. She couldn't imagine Elsa just yelling for someone. Fully ensconced in a chair, totally engaged with a book and ringing a little bell, she could see it. "Both?"

"Levers," Elsa affirms. She's not quite sure why Jessica is so delighted by this, but she clearly is, and it's more than enough to distract her from her leg, which is currently more annoying than painful anyway. She likes that look, the lit up way her girlfriend gets at times when she's fascinated by something. "Well, we had the — they were less levers than ropes on a pulley system, in case we needed someone from the kitchen or in the night. It went straight to the servants' quarters and they could see which part of the castle was calling."

"I mean, of course, they have to know where to go, big castle," Jessica said. She had, naturally, already established the size of her girlfriend's castle. "Fixing those must have been interesting. I wonder if they ran them along those- the servants had their own corridors, right? I don't know if that's every castle or just some castles."

"Oh, no, we used the same halls," Elsa says. "I think that's just some castles. We used to nearly run into them when we were little, careening down the hallways. Or not so nearly, once or twice." She smiles and shakes her head. They've been holy terrors before everything went wrong. She supposes some of the servants must have been happy when all that ceased.

"Oh my god, that's so cute," Jessica said, almost in protest, tipping her head back to lay against the back of the couch. "You were scamps! You were little terrors! I don't feel bad about your leg at all, now, it's just the bill come due for your hooliganism."

This was a lie, she absolutely still did. But there also a weird sort of temperance in the idea that a broken leg was the sort of experience she should have been allowed as a child.

Elsa laughs, nose crinkling up in pretended indignation. "I was no such thing," she says, but it lasts mere moments before she leans back against the couch, grinning. "Alright, I was. But in my defense, it made Anna so happy. We used to sneak into the kitchen to try and get dessert early." She has to wonder what they thought, all the servants, when she stopped running wild. It must have been such a change of pace for everyone.

"Scamp," Jessica declared, leaning in to teasingly rub her nose against Elsa's. "A rapscallion. Well, you're an injured hooligan, so if you're good, maybe you can have dessert early."

Injured as Elsa was, this might involve Jessica cooking. She was better at it, now, or at least less terrible. Sometimes the food even got cooked.

Elsa laughs. "And what does being good entail?" she teases. "Because I'm injured, so I expect an early dessert." She deserves that much, she thinks. What good is there in being hurt if one can't get special treatment? Leaning her head against Jessica's shoulder, she reaches to hold her hand.

"Well, no hooliganism, obviously," Jessica said, threading her fingers though Elsa's and tapping their linked hands very gently against the cast, then raising them to her lips. There was, obviously, less potential for hooliganism with her leg the way it was. Also, she couldn't say it was eating all your dinner before dessert, because obviously that was not at all part of it. "No careening down the hallways, no knocking over the servants. Which I suppose is me. Um, what else. Manners! You have to ask nicely for the things that you want."

Admittedly, she didn't mind -- sort of the opposite of minded -- the odd bit of being ordered around by Elsa, in certain circumstances, but they were doing a bit. They could mix it up.

"What if I like ordering you around?" Elsa teases. She doesn't really consider herself bossy, just, occasionally, authoritative, but there's fun in it sometimes. All joking aside, she doesn't expect to knock anyone over for several weeks; at least in Darrow, there's an abundance of superheroes and she doesn't have to worry that her absence will prove to be too much of an issue. Gently squeezing Jessica's hand, she leans over to kiss her. "I will try to be good."

"Well, if you're good maybe you can order me around a little," Jessica conceded, because how could she not, even as it threatened the purity of her bit. She didn't really have a consistent, structured system for what constituted good, here. She couldn't, because the trick was she was incapable of declaring Elsa not good.

The kissing was an especially good start, of course, in any assessment. She snuggled into her side, mindful of her leg, stroking the hand linked in hers with her thumb. "Now, manners. What would you like?"

There isn't much of anything Elsa can think of to ask for, but there must be something. That's part of the game. Really, though, her leg is annoying and something to be mindful of, but it doesn't really hurt right now, which is about as much as she could ask for.

"Another kiss," she suggests, pleased with herself for it.

"Please," Jessica reminded her, and then immediately demolished her own point by kissing Elsa. She did manage to salvage her attempt at teasing by angling it more to Elsa's cheek, but it was a near thing. It was hard not to just always kiss her when the opportunity came up.

Elsa smiles, eyes rolling briefly. "Another kiss please," she says, with exaggerated politeness, her hands crossed at her knees. It would be easy enough just to turn and kiss her, but there's a game to be played, and she enjoys it immensely. She might grow to like this. Well, the playing at being good thing, at least. The injury she could do without.

"As my queen... requests?" Jessica said, although the upward lilt was very mild. She hadn't prepped this, she was having to adjust on the fly. That was sort of the fun of it, though. She shuffled slightly on the couch so she was sitting up, more, had more reach without bumping Elsa's leg.

"Another kiss... here?" she asked, pecking Elsa on the tip of a nose that, while very cute, she was pretty sure was not in fact where she had meant. Also part of the fun of it.

Elsa laughs, wrinkling up her nose after. Any kiss from Jessica is a good kiss, but that's not what she meant and she knows it. She only wishes her leg weren't just lying there so uselessly. She'd rather tuck it under her, inch closer, lose herself in the simple pleasure that's just kissing her girlfriend.

"For a start," she says lightly. She taps a finger against her lips. "And here please."

The nose had been an excellent choice, she decided. Of course, she might have done that wonderful nose wrinkle no matter where, but in the moment it seemed connected, it seemed like she'd generated it.

"Well, you are being good," she allowed, dipping her head to press her lips where indicated. Closed, for a fleeting moment, a quick peck. "Like that?" she said.

Hoping for not like that, obviously.

Elsa shakes her head, pouting playfully. "No," she says. "More. Please." It only occurs to her to add that after a moment, but at least she remembered. That, she figures, ought to be good enough. "And thank you."

Anna would do that when they were little, ask and thank in the same breath, anticipating getting her way. It seems appropriate for this game to do the same.

The pout, also, very good, the little purse of lips she was very fond of. She couldn't be expected to deny such a very good request. She was already showing tremendous restraint, she thought. Had to be, still mindful of Elsa's leg, but there was a certain thrill at the restraint, at holding back, at building up.

"Very well," she said, leaning in. "Like..." She kissed her, mouth opening, tongue brushing Elsa's lip, and thought very hard about whether a broken leg meant no straddling someone.

"Yes," Elsa says. She wants to shift closer, but her leg is stupidly heavy right now and clumsy, and she realizes suddenly that the next few weeks are going to be even more annoying than she'd already anticipated. She leans into the kiss, lips parting, focusing on that instead. They'll figure everything else out somehow. Right now, the kissing is what matters.

She forgot, momentarily, that there was an underlying game going on. Or, actually, maybe that was backwards, probably it was. This was the heart of it, kissing her girlfriend, slowly, thoroughly, reaching up to take her face in her hands. They were definitely going to have to figure out the straddling thing. And a lot of things.

She pulled away slowly, sucking on Elsa's bottom lip for a lingering moment. "Will that be all?" she said, from not very far away, catching her own tongue between her teeth with an impish smile.

"Mm-mm," Elsa says, head shaking minutely. There's something so irresistibly tender about being held like this, and for a little bit, the leg doesn't matter. Sitting here, so close, so wanted, she feels so utterly loved, and nothing else in the world could matter as much as that. Even injured, she feels, she's impossibly lucky. Has anyone ever been so lucky as her? Has anyone ever had such a beautiful, clever, wonderful girlfriend or loved so much? She turns her head slightly, enough to press a soft kiss to Jessica's palm. "More please."

"More, then," Jessica said, in a happy sort of purr. Satisfied both was and wasn't the word for it. She was entirely satisfied that she got to be here, in this moment; she was entirely unsatisfied in that she could never get enough of it.

She tilted Elsa's head slightly to the side with her hands, pressed her mouth just below her ear. "More here?" she said, then moved a little lower, to her neck. "Or, here?"

That, she's not expecting, and Elsa lets out a soft gasp at the press of lips against her skin. "There," she agrees, tipping her head to the side to give her room. She's so sensitive there, though there's nowhere, admittedly, she wouldn't enjoy the feel of Jessica's mouth. "There is good."

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