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Sunlight filtered through the trees, kissing Honeymaren’s face with golden light. It brought out her freckles and her smile.
“Do I have something in my teeth?” Honeymaren asked.
Elsa blinked her eyes, and realized she’d been staring. “Oh, no. I guess I was a little lost in thought.”
Honeymaren tilted her head, “Anything you want to talk about?”
“Maybe later,” Elsa said, biting her lip before she started to walk. “You wanted to show me something?”
“Yes!” Whenever Honeymaren got excited about something, her face would light up and there’d be just the slightest tremble in her voice, “This way, there’s a great view of the river…”
Elsa wanted to take every chance to make her feel that excited, just to hear it in her voice.
🔥
Honeymaren stepped inside the goahti that she was sharing with Elsa, smiling softly at her. “Thank you for helping my brother today.”
“It was nothing,” She reached up to take her hair out of a braid before remembering she hadn’t put it in a braid in months.
“You keep doing that.”
“Doing what?”
“This.” Honeymaren lifted her hands, taking her braid out and then shaking her head. Her hair gleamed in the dim candlelight as it fell in waves across her shoulders and down her back.
Elsa’s mouth dropped open, and she closed it before Honeymaren could notice, turning her face down just enough to hide it in her hair. “It was in a braid for years. Old habits. Did you like it in the braid better?”
“Mm.” Honeymaren sat down on Elsa’s bed, hands touching her hair reverently. The feeling of Honeymaren’s fingers in her hair was pure bliss and Elsa almost missed her response, “I like it like this, but what’s important is what you want.”
That was the right answer to a question that Elsa hadn’t even known she’d been asking, “Then lucky for us both that I really like it down.”
Honeymaren pushed the curtain of hair out of Elsa’s face, and Elsa wondered if her eyes had always had that golden sheen to them or if it was just the candles.
🔥
It wasn’t just the candles that made Honeymaren’s eyes look gold, but it wasn’t just her eyes that the firelight made glow. Elsa stared at her across the campfire, watching the shadow and light interplay on Honeymaren’s skin. Her eyes, golden brown, burned into Elsa’s. She studied closely the way her lips parted slightly and the flick of her tongue to wet them.
“Tu as de beaux yeux.” Elsa whispered.
“Hmm?” Honeymaren seemed to snap out of her own thoughts, though the intensity of her gaze made Elsa feel dizzy.
“It’s French,” she replied, looking down into the fire. “It means you have beautiful eyes.”
Elsa wondered if you could look into someone’s eyes and see their soul. With one glance know that you could love them. Not love at first sight, no. But know that you could, given time and a chance, fall in love with them. She remembered vividly the first time she’d really looked at Honeymaren, really looked into her eyes.
That had also been across a campfire.
Oh.
“Thank you,” Honeymaren said, but Elsa didn’t dare look into her eyes just then.
🔥
Like a snowball rolling down a hill, Elsa’s feelings started to grow rapidly. She’d already been paying close attention to Honeymaren, but now she began to pick up on certain cues. There were times Honeymaren would disappear into the woods to be alone, which was a feeling Elsa understood all too well. The need to be alone, to recharge without people. And the way her mood could sometimes swing low.
On those days, she let Honeymaren have her space, but made sure that when she returned, it would be to a warm meal or an organized home; and the occasional reindeer ice sculpture that she made sure Honeymaren would find when she wasn’t around to be embarrassed.
Except sometimes Honeymaren came home before Elsa could make her escape.
“Ryder and I had an older sister,” Honeymaren said, running her fingers over the antlers and startling Elsa.
She ran her fingers through her hair and waited for Honeymaren to continue, staring into eyes a little duller than normal.
“There was an accident, when we were younger, and she drowned.” Honeymaren’s hand stilled, “It was my fault. She was trying to help me after I swam too far into the river.”
Elsa walked over, taking Maren’s hands and squeezing them, “You were just a child, Mare. Accidents happen. Sometimes they’re tragic. But that doesn’t make it your fault. I’m sure she wouldn’t want you blaming yourself.”
She knew how guilt could eat away at a person, and last for years and years. In fact, it would probably never go away, not entirely.
Honeymaren squeezed her hands back, lifting them to her lips and kissing her fingertips. Her lips were feathersoft. “I guess. Sometimes I feel bad and I need to be alone.”
“You’re allowed to,” Elsa said. “And I’ll be here when you return.”
“You know the same goes for you, right?” Honeymaren asked, an intense look in her eyes.
It took all of Elsa’s willpower not to kiss her then and there.
🔥
Anna,
I hope this letter finds you well. How are Olaf and Kristoff doing? I know I can probably just ride down on the Nokk for this, or talk to you at game night. But I need the time to collect my thoughts and write them down. It’s easier this way since I can take my time. I love you, but you’d be peppering me with a thousand questions that I don’t yet have the answer to.
I need some advice. And you need to brace yourself, I need romantic advice. I’ll give you time to squeal because I know that you won’t read the next few sentences and this is the perfect time to confess I was the one that ate your chocolates, not Sven.
Now that you’re paying attention again, her name is Honeymaren. You remember her, right? Ryder’s sister. She visits Arendelle with me a lot.
How do I approach her, how do I let her know I’m interested? What do I do if she’s not? What do I do if she is?
I think I might love her. I don’t know when, exactly. It snuck up on me and I realized it one day while I was looking at the firelight reflected in her eyes.
Help?
With Love, Elsa
With her letter sent off via Gale, Elsa puttered about nervously. She didn’t think Anna would object to the idea; she liked Honeymaren well enough. And she’d certainly love the idea of giving Elsa advice; they had an open agreement to offer and listen to advice with each other in general, even if they didn’t have to follow it. And all Elsa really wanted was an idea of what to do.
Too soon, far too soon, Gale returned with an answer from her sister. She ducked into her goahti, relieved that Honeymaren was not there, and opened it.
Elsa,
I’m fine, thanks for asking. Olaf has been up to some new shenanigans after I gave him a book of poetry and he fancies himself a bit of a poet. It’s driving Kristoff up the wall. He’s fine as well, if a little frazzled between Olaf and all the wedding preparations.
From the sound of it you might already have yourself a date but don’t think you don’t owe me chocolate.
I don’t know if I’m the best person to give you advice, I mean I was as isolated as you were and my first boyfriend tried to kill us both. But I did all right with the second.
Elsa rubbed her face, but smiled; Kristoff was more than all right, in her book. And in Anna’s too, but she got the joke.
I’ve noticed how close you are with her. You’re in sync at game night, you talk about her when you visit. Like that right there is the big clue in. How much you talk about her. And how much you touch her! You’re always holding hands, or when you’re sitting together you’re touching her. I’ve even seen you playing footsie! If she wasn’t interested I doubt she’d be doing that much.
Frankly sis, I wouldn’t be surprised if she already thinks you’re together. Lucky for you she’s neither a man nor someone you’ve just met.
“Wait, what?” Elsa stared at the letter, the words suddenly blending together into a visual cacophony.
Anna wasn’t wrong. She and Honeymaren were close, she just hadn’t realized how that had looked from the outside. Elsa looked at her own hand, flexing her fingers, the memory of Honeymaren’s hand etched into her skin.
She knew the lines of Honeymaren’s palm almost as well as she knew her own.
Folding the letter neatly and tucking it between the pages of one of her sketchbooks, Elsa darted out of the goahti.
🔥
There was always something special about the way Honeymaren looked while she was doing chores. Elsa found her with some of the reindeer by the river, watching them as they drank. Her feet felt frozen to the ground as she watched Honeymaren brush down one of the reindeer and then quickly catch a baby before it could fall in.
And then Elsa saw a picture so perfectly captured in her mind that she would be able to paint it later, where Honeymaren was standing after she set the reindeer down. Sunbeams illuminated her, the water glowing behind her in golds and reds and a light breeze ruffling her hair.
Honeymaren’s eyes met hers and they sparked with happiness. Elsa started to move towards her, trying to be casual but dimly aware she was probably failing in that effort; her usual grace seemed to be far away right now. But she reached Honeymaren without tripping over herself, and took her hands without thinking about it.
“Uhm. Hi.” Honeymaren’s face was suddenly flushed.
“May I ask you something.”
“Of course.”
“Are we friends, or are we … something more?”
Honeymaren’s eyes widened slightly as she realized what Elsa was asking. “Oh. I. Do you want to be?” Please tell me you want to be her eyes pleaded, “I kind of thought, that maybe…”
“We already were?”
She nodded. “I wasn’t sure, and I didn’t want to risk asking.”
Elsa laughed, letting go of Honeymaren’s hands so she could hug her. “I think it might be possible we were together and we were also the last to know.”
She pulled back, smiling at her, enjoying the way her eyes were glistening. “I love you, Mare.”
“I love you too, Elsa.” That intensity that Elsa so loved returned to Honeymaren’s gaze and she at last understood why it was always there.
This time, Elsa let herself kiss Honeymaren.