1286: Joyous Yule – Oneshot, Part 2

Title: Joyous Yule
Author: mlle imandeus
Media: Movie
Topic: Frozen
Genre:  Romance/Drama
URL: Chapter 1
Critiqued by Ghostcat (with annoyance special guest Syl)







Welcome back, dear Patrons!

It’s a new year, and I have returned with the rest of … this. The first half of the chapter had some perfunctory back story regarding Nordic paganism that Anna uses to justify having sex with her sister while supposedly giving her a swimming lesson.

I don’t recommend reading this fic; instead, enjoy this video of tiny puppies.

“Awww! They’re so fluffy!”

Syl?!? What the hell are you doing here?

“Why wouldn’t I be here? And while we’re on the subject – I can’t believe you’re riffing porn and didn’t invite me to sit in.”

Partially it’s I don’t really like you, and partially because I thought you only liked Yaoi.

“When it comes to smut, I’m equal opportunity.”

:sighs: I can’t make you leave, can I?

:smiles eerily: “You could try.”

… So it looks like Syl’s joining me for the second half of the chapter. Isn’t that great? :eye-twitch: I’m just … thrilled.

“Would it kill you to show a little enthusiasm?”

:grinds teeth: Possibly. Let’s just get to the fic.

I put one hand on her hip and one on her belly. “The first thing you need to do is get used to getting your face wet. You can’t be afraid of the water. Now let’s both go under the water and count to ten and then come up.” We both did so with no problem. As I knew there wouldn’t be, easy as could be.

“Wait, they’ve already been swimming once. Why are they going through this ‘getting used to the water’ bit now?”

:shrugs: I don’t know. Logically, Anna would have done this before the first lesson.

“Must have been in a hurry to get to the sex. That never ends well.”

Or got distracted while waxing poetic about gods fucking each other and generally squeeing over primitive cultures like a fangirl.

“Now float on the water, Elsa.” I said, “Chin up, body submerged. And your legs: half open, then out, and together.
Your arms: half open, then out, and together.

Did you fast-forward the fic to the sex?

“No! I would never do that!”

:Ghostie glares at Syl:

“Okay, I would; but I didn’t this time.”

Your head should be coming out of the water, just a bit and then back down; but never deeper than with your chin just above the waterline.

:Syl  produces a lace fan and uses it to fan herself:


 Think of a frog swimming. Come on my love, swim like a frog for me. Just like on your back, but on your belly now. I’ve got you. Just relax and swim like a wee froggie. Just be Anna’s wee froggie just for me.”

Does this count as roleplaying?

“Only if Elsa wears a frog suit.”

I don’t think those have been invented yet.

 I supported her as she swam. “And your legs now. And your arms. Don’t forget to breathe. You’re doing perfect my love. Perfect.”

“Does she really need to remind Elsa to breathe?”

I find it completely plausible that these characters would forget how to breathe.

When I moved my hand, her mouth went under, but her nose never did and she made the adjustment that brought her mouth up in a single movement.

Well, whoop-de-do. Elsa managed to lift her head above water, which is a reflex action that prevents someone from drowning. Even people who can’t swim can do that much.

“It’s comforting to know that if I’m ever tossed in the shark tank I won’t drown before Bart eats me.”

Wait … you don’t know how to swim?

“Why would I?”

You’re a sailor!

“Yeah, on a sky-ship. Swimming isn’t a needful skill to possess in my particular line of work. Flying would be helpful, but that’s not something you can just pick up by practicing.”

According to a Guide I once read, the trick to flying is learning how to throw yourself at the ground and miss.

“That’s not very helpful. That Guide must be terrible.”

It’s not the most reliable source of information, but it is a very interesting read.

I swam beside her doing the breaststroke as well for a moment, then said, “Elsa, now what I would like to do is swim up underneath you doing the backstroke. So we can swim in tandem and kiss. Brushing against each other so sweetly, doesn’t that sound lovely.”

No, that sounds like an excellent way for Anna to drown, or for them to give each other concussions that would result in both of them drowning, or for some other flavor of disaster to befall them.

“Wouldn’t they just kind of … hover near each other?”

You really don’t know how to swim, do you?

“The kraken offered to teach me watersports, but I don’t think he had swimming in mind.”

Okay, I really didn’t need to know that.

As long as the amount of water an object displaces weighs more than the object, it will float. This means most humans, thanks in part to our voluminous lungs full of lightweight gases, will be buoyant. Elsa has the easy part, since she’s at the surface. In order for Anna to swim beneath Elsa and maintain her depth, Anna would need to pick up a few pounds of rocks or increase her horizontal speed, which would be difficult to do considering it is a small, shallow pool, and they would only have a very brief window for this aquatic snuggling.

“So instead of prolonged foreplay, it would be a high-speed drive-by groping?”

… Sure, why not?

Just for fun, let’s assume that they’ve broken physics so badly that Anna can remain submerged without zooming around like a dolphin – which is a pretty fair analogy given how rapey Anna acts.

:Ghostie wheels out a chalkboard:

:Syl raises her hand:

Yes, Syl?

“What was that growly noise?”

Probably Taco. He gets a bit twitchy when we muck about with physics.

:Ghostie draws a line horizontally across the blackboard:

This is the surface of the water in the pool. It wouldn’t be straight like this since they would be moving around and swimming, but this is just for illustrative purposes.

“Heh. Porpoises.”

Focus, Syl.

:draws rough outline of a woman face-down, mostly submerged, with head barely raised above the water line:

This is Elsa. Humans float, but we are like icebergs – most of our bulk will be under the water. According to the narration, Anna wants to swim just below Elsa, close enough that they brush up against each other but not so close that Anna becomes Elsa’s meat-raft. Oh, and they should be kissing.

:Ghostie attempts to draw a second figure meeting these requirements:

:Syl raises her hand:

Yes, Syl?

“I think you broke Anna’s back. And her neck.”

This would work out so much better if Anna didn’t have bones. Gills would help, too. And that’s without taking into account that both sets of arms and legs, Anna’s and Elsa’s, would be moving and making it even harder for them to line up like this.

“The meat-raft sounds like it would be a lot easier, they should just do that.”

Don’t give the fic ideas, Syl. It is a bit of a misnomer, anyway; Anna’s smaller than Elsa and wouldn’t be enough to support her sister, so Elsa’s body is nothing but an anchor being used to hold Anna under the water.

:Syl raises her hand:

What now?

“Did you steal that chalkboard from Lyle?”

No, I borrowed it from her.

“Does she know you have it?”

Technically no, but that doesn’t matter. I’m going to give it back.

“So you did steal it.”

I guess you could say that, but … :rubs forehead: Look, I’m not having this argument with you again.

“Because you know I’m right.”

Can we just get back to the poorly written porn? :blinks: Wow, there’s something I never thought I’d say.

“Oh Anna, it does. But do you think we can? I’ve only been swimming today. You know, I’m not very good.” I started to speak. “Don’t flatter me, dear one, you needn’t.”

Needn’t what?

“Turn herself into an abomination in the eyes of God and man just so she can make out with her sister underwater?”

I don’t think she would be that oddly specific.

“You swim fine, my sister. And I swim very well. I would like to do this, as would you as you said, and I am certain it will work.

The chalkboard says otherwise.

“The stolen chalkboard.”

Drop it, Syl.

 I dived under and did a half roll and stopped, allowing the natural buoyancy of my naked body to lift me up into her. As our bodies pressed together I slowly and naturally joined my swimming speed to hers. There was no denying that my buoyancy was now supporting her to a degree, as we began to kiss.

“Hey, she’s doing the meat-raft! We should add that to the Library’s List of Euphemisms.”

:Ghostie repeatedly bangs her head against the chalkboard:

However there was also no denying I was not swimming with my arms at all anymore. Only my legs were pumping.

You’re not swimming anymore, period; you’re just floating around and making out – which would be hard to do, due to Elsa’s larger size pressing down on Anna and keeping her submerged.

“So she’s going to drown?”

Realistically they’d probably just get dunked and then break apart as Anna struggled for air; the only real problem is Anna’s insistence that they both be in the horizontal position. This would be a lot easier to pull off if they were both vertical.

“But then they couldn’t pretend to be otters!”

What? They weren’t doing that!

“Really? That’s what I would have done.”

Regardless of where they got their inspiration, I think the author fixated a bit too much on this masturbatory fantasy and didn’t stop to think about the practical limitations a scenario like this would have.

“Only you would insist on a practical masturbation fantasy.”

My arms were wrapped around her and my hands were exploring her bottom in a way that was decidedly impertinent. “Is that really where you want to put your fingers?” Elsa eventually asked.

“Are you sure they are still in the water?”

I thought they were, the fic doesn’t mention them getting out.

“Then why is Anna acting like she has Elsa in a bed? Is this one of those water-bed things?”

No, it’s supposed to be a pool of water. Given their height differences, Anna’s head would have to be around Elsa’s shoulders in order for her to reach Elsa’s butt.

“So she’s definitely drowning?”

She should be. They definitely shouldn’t be able to carry on a conversation. Frankly, I’m surprised they haven’t swam into the edge of the pool already. It can’t be that big.

:points: “You have an elbow on your forehead.”

“If it’s alright.” I don’t know why I wanted to. I think just because it was there, within reach and it was warm and moist and intimate. I wanted to know all her most intimate of places.

Dude, you had your tongue inside her. How much more intimate do you want to get?

“You really want to know the answer to that question?”

No, not really. But I’m afraid we’re going to find out any way.

“Of course it’s alright. I just wasn’t expecting it. It’s nice.”

“Good. Shhh, kiss me more.”

“They have both abandoned anything regarding swimming, haven’t they?”

Pretty much.

We swam around kissing more for a few minutes. I found my sister’s tongue to be the perfect level of moisture as well as the perfect levels of both intrusive and inviting then she said. “Noble instructor, would you say I’ve mastered this stroke?”

I smiled and said, “I would indeed, Royal student.”

Perfect level of moisture? You’re in a fucking pool of water! Everything’s moist!

“They’re fucking in a fucking pool of water.”

Very alliterative.

“At least I didn’t say something was both intrusive and inviting. Those are two different things!”

“Would you say I have also demonstrated an exemplary knowledge of the stroke which allowed me to perform it while kissing you and enjoying your playful but possessively thorough exploration of my bottomhole; that shows a Queenly mastery of the stroke such would make my Noble instructor proud?”

“Who the fuck talks like that? Especially while fucking?”

I have no idea. It’s been getting increasingly worse as the chapter progresses, too. I think the author is trying to make the characters sound like they are in “Ye Olden Tymes”, but it just comes across as being very strange and clunky. The poor thesaurus is getting screwed more than Elsa.

“Everyone’s getting screwed more than Elsa.”

I kissed the bridge of her nose quickly then lingeringly on her lips, “I most certainly would, Your Majesty.”

She kissed me back. “Then you, my love, have won yourself a reward.”

Oh, hell. Another sex scene.

“When did this stop being a sex scene?”

Good point.

I walked her to our stone love table and asked if I might request at least in the beginning if she were willing to be on her hands and knees.

Stone love table? Is that the bench they were using before? Poor Elsa’s going to wind up with scraped knees.

“She doesn’t move around much during Anna’s attempts at sex, so she might be okay.”

I don’t know which is worse; getting scraped knees from sex or not getting scraped knees because the sex was so bad.

“I’d say the second one.”

“Of course,” She said, already assuming the position I’d requested of her, but continuing to speak to me as she did so. “Is there more business you have with my bottom?” She asked

Sweet mercy, I hope not.

“Don’t knock it until you try it.”

Sorry, I just don’t see the allure when there’s more interesting areas to attend to.

“To be honest, since I’ll always be completely honest with you.

I think we’re missing some sentence.

“I didn’t take it, I swear!”

Since I have you here in that position I will spread you open and look as deeply inside you as I can just out of curiosity,

That sounds like something a serial killer would tell you.

“Anna’s gonna crawl inside Elsa like she’s a fuzzy-mound-adorned taun-taun.”

Now I have to add Star Wars to the list of things I will never be able to enjoy again.

but the reason I am putting you in that position in the first place is I want to lick you as deeply and thoroughly a I can and I can get much better access this way, if that is alright.”

“Let me see if I have this right; Elsa is on all fours?”

Looks like.

“And this is supposed to be the optimum position for all this exposing and deep-licking that Anna wants to do? That’s ridiculous.”

It sounds weird to me, too. Having her go back to the position she was in before, where she was laying on her back, would be much better. It’s almost like Anna is following the script of a porn film and constantly changing positions to shift from scene to scene.

“Yes, yes it is more than alright. knowing I am pleasing you, pleases me beyond measure and the touch of your agile tongue and nimble fingers pleases me still more.”

Thank you for ruining The Beatles for me.

“I thought for sure that would bring those agents in the sexy body armor running.”

… You have issues. I’ve reached an agreement with the DRD; they gave me a free pass on this fic because they really don’t want to have anything to do with it.

“Wow. Impressive.”

Kind of sad, really.


That’s not a real word.

I knew I pleased her, but she pleased me still more simply by allowing it and I had to show her that. she was my sister, My Queen. My goddess, my world. And now my lover.

:Ghostie snorts:

“Hay fever?”

Not unless I’m allergic to self-serving bullshit. This isn’t a healthy relationship, even without the super-creepy incest angle.

“Which is really disturbing.”

Really, really disturbing. But even without that, this isn’t a relationship between two people; Anna treats Elsa the way lonely men treat a Fleshlight – simply an interactive method of sexual self-gratification.

I was the single luckiest girl in the world. More than that on all the worlds of Yggdrassil the world tree.

It’s Yggdrasil, dumbass. It’s a central component of the Nordic pagan traditions; as a practitioner you should be able to get that much right.

The gods themselves had no luck that was better than my life.

“Are the gods in your dimension different? Because in all the old tales I’ve heard, a lot of the gods had really shitty luck.”

Depends on the pantheon and if there were any mortals around to bear the brunt of things.

I knew that and if I could I would try to find some way to show Elsa that I knew it.

I guess communicating verbally with your flesh-toy is something other people do.

“I’ve noticed that a lot of problems in the Library could be solved if the characters just communicated better with each other.”

Like you and sensei?

“I’m not talking to that asshole.”

That I didn’t take my luck for granted. That if I were blessed to lick at the opening of her mother box for the rest of my life I would consider it a life well lived. And lick I would and stroke and suck and caress. I was half mad with the joy of being allowed to do it the first time and I feared I did not make a good showing for myself.

“Hey, isn’t a Mother Box that transportation thing?”

Yes, it is. Elsa has a wormhole generator in the middle of her lady garden.

“Anna better be careful or she’ll lose that tongue.”

But this time. This time I would show her that her sister could pleasure her better than any man or any woman as well.

“She better be able to back up that boast.”

Like Elsa, you should prepare to be disappointed.

I would show her that our lives were destined in the stars to twine and our legs and our souls and I would plait every part of us that could plait by the gods.


“I have traveled the vastness between worlds, stared into an infinite darkness steeped in madness and survived, and I have no idea what the hell she is talking about.”

I think the jury’s still out on that madness thing.

My stars but her sweet nether lips looked pretty after I’d sucked on them and made them puffy. Thinking of caring for my dear sister I thought of caretaking I might do right now and said, “Elsa, roll on over my love, I’ve had my fun in this position. I’m sure your knees are tired.”

“Tired?!? How can they be tired? SHE HASN’T DONE ANYTHING YET!”

:Ghostie silently holds out a large terracotta pot:

“This isn’t fucking!”

:Syl seizes the pot and flings it against the wall with a loud CRASH! as Ghostie holds out another one:

“This is barely a prelude to fucking!”


“Where is the God-braiding sex?”


“I was promised porn!”


“And pancakes!”


I never promised you pancakes.


“The pancakes were implied.”


How can someone imply pancakes?


“You have to learn how to read the subtle nuances, Ghostie.”


How are pancakes a subtle nuance?


“It’s all about subtext.”


“By the by, where are you getting all these pots from?”

Crunchy got Gumdrop a wheel and kiln for Sithmas; it’s fueled by the suffering of others, but it has a really even burn so I guess it’s an acceptable trade-off.

“Do I even want to know why?”

Crunchy said something about recreating levels from Majora’s Mask down in the basements; I wasn’t really paying attention because my coat was trying to eat my face.

“I hate it when that happens.” :pauses: “Sometimes I feel sorry for people who don’t have conversations like this.”

Yeah, it would suck to be them.

My Queen stood with a smile. “You should naught have done that, Your Highness. I was considering drawing to a close soon anyway.

Yeah, because if you’re having awesome sex you immediately want to stop.

“You know full well she’s not having awesome sex. Poor girl probably wants to get rid of Anna so she can rub one out in peace.”

I can’t really argue with that.

But you have led me to completion three glorious times.

“The hell she has!”

Must be one of those subtle nuances you were talking about.

:Syl makes a rude gesture:

And the agreement was you get but one reward per stroke you teach me. Now that there is no possible way anyone could say you are not yet done,

“Or have even begun.”

I am afraid, we must call this reward over. I think you would agree two strokes are enough for today.

“Because that’s all she bloody gave her.”

Please try to behave.

But I think we might still steal some small time for ourselves before we must get ready for the Yule feast. I was hoping my sweet beloved sister might deign to sit on my lap in the smaller of the soaking pools. So I might cover her ruddy cheeks with kisses and tell her how she has my eternal love.”

“I’ve visited more worlds than I can count who talks like this?”

I have no idea, if you go back to the beginning of the chapter even Elsa didn’t talk like this.

“But Elsa, I’m too big to sit on your lap.” I said.

:double facepalm:

“I think it’s a little late to pretend to be innocent, darling.”

“Anna, my prize. what I told you ten years ago; when you were too big to sit on my lap as a child, does not apply when you are the perfect size to sit on my lap as a sweetheart.

Ummm … What?

“Is Anna bigger on the inside?”

Don’t be silly; she’d have to have dimension first.

We are different people then we were then.”

“Now it’s not considered statutory rape.”

I don’t know; Anna’s still pretty young. She might still be considered jailbait. Going by the fic, Elsa was eight when her father secluded her and if that was ten years ago then Elsa is eighteen now. That would make Anna fifteen.

“I hope that doesn’t make this child pornography. You don’t need your name on another federal watchlist.”

Wait, what? Why is my name on a federal watchlist?

“Well, I wasn’t going to give them my name, was I?”

I didn’t need to tell her that was the right thing to say. I didn’t even need to think it in words. She was already leading me. And my little bits of disgust for our fool of a king were melting out my eyes and as I sat down on my Lady’s lap he was allowed to be my father who I loved and he’d made a few mistakes but he had been taken too soon and too senselessly. I had my sister’s arms around me and her taste on my lips and on my tongue and that was what mattered. And what anyone might think about it was as irrelevant as anything could possibly be because she was kissing me now. And she was suddenly my world.


“That went to a very weird place halfway through.”

Yeah, I don’t think anyone should start thinking about their father while in the middle of an intimate moment.

“Anna has spent a lot of time thinking about how to have sex with her sister. Maybe she liked to change things up, add in a little variety.”

:Ghostie wordlessly dumps a full bucket of boiling Brain Bleach over her head:

I had dreamed of this. Literally, exactly this, sitting naked on her lap in a soaking pool kissing her.

That does kind of explain why Anna dragged Elsa down into this cavern; she was trying to fulfill a fantasy. But this, this … this is the “positive and adorable” relationship the author promised back in the beginning of the chapter?

I had dreamed of dancing with her while wearing a fine gown. I had dreamed of sailing with her on a trading mission on the Southern Sea.

Elsa is a ruling monarch and Anna is the next in line for the crown! They wouldn’t be allowed on the same ship! They sure as hell wouldn’t go on trading missions together.

“What is it about Elsa that makes these authors want to put her on a ship?”

At least she’s not a pirate this time.

But wherever we were I have wanted her ice pale lips on mine.


Elsa is NOT an albino!

I have wanted to kiss these lips since I knew what kissing was. When Father kissed Mother, I wished to kiss Elsa. When the milk maid kissed the stable boy, I wished to kiss Elsa. When I saw the priestess of Freya drunkenly groping the mead master’s daughter it was Elsa I thought about. Now here she was, I was in her arms, and I had every reason to believe my dreams might come true. Several had already come true today.

“Damn, she’s self-centered. It’s all about her desires! Does it ever occur to Anna to ask what Elsa would like?”

Flesh-toys don’t have feelings or opinions.

Then the time for thought was past and it was the time for being in the moment. It felt so good to touch and taste and lick. Her mouth was so warm and her slit rubbing against mine was fuzzy heaven.

On top of her weird sister complex, Anna also has an obsession with fuzzy things.

“Should we warn Swenia to keep an eye on her kitten?”

Considering how protective everyone in the Library is regarding Jiwe, I don’t think it would be necessary. With the hordes of merciless assassins and occasional apex predator he has wrapped around his paw, not to mention his own lethal levels of cuteness, he’s probably the safest person in the Library.

I might have liked if there was some way they could have rubbed more directly against each other but nature does not allow for that and that is fine, it was lovely.

:double facepalm:

You’re sitting in her lap; of course your naughty areas aren’t going to be in optimal alignment!

“It’s called ‘scissoring’ for a reason, woman! PUT SOME EFFORT INTO IT!”

And her strong slim fingers found my bottom, I assume because mine had found hers earlier and they made short work of me, I assure you. It made me feel quite possessed and owned and submissive I must say. Open and exposed. Like she could do what she liked with me. Which of course she could, so I liked it very much.

Other than that, which as I said, I took to be turnabout. More than anything, it absolutely was more sensual than about anything further down, and consisted almost exclusively of kissing and stroking. Which I enjoyed very much.

Great, Anna’s daybooking her way through more sex in two paragraphs that Elsa has had in the entire fic.

“This is so unfair. Elsa barely gets any action and then has to spend all this time fondling Anna.”

It’s weird; considering this fic began with the premise of Anna seducing Elsa, most of the narration focuses on what’s happening to Anna and Elsa gets pushed into the background. She’s little more than set dressing.

I wanted to be a passionate lover to my sister, and if it were her interest that I plow her like a mare,

I’m sorry, what?

“Honey, you don’t have the right equipment for that.”

That’s not even the right metaphor; you can plow with a horse, but you don’t actually plow a horse!

“You could, but it would end messy.”

even if that be every moment we were alone together I would do it and glory in the opportunity. She would find me eager to do so, truly. However, there are years of loneliness inside me I am making up as well, so any cuddles she offers; she will find me eagerly gathering them up.

Could you please stop talking about yourself for two frickin’ seconds?

“I don’t think it’s physically possible.”

I parted my lips exploring her mouth with my tongue, then pulling back and just kissing her dryly. Kissing her face, her cheeks, her eyelids, the bridge of her nose.

“I don’t think she’s doing that right.”

Would you rather she lick Elsa’s face?

“No! No more licking!”

Speaking to her softly. Speaking to her of my love, not just my passion but my love of her companionship. My love of building snowmen with her.

Not the frickin’ snowmen!

“Could be worse.”

I don’t see how.

“She could be fucking the snowman.”

Ewww. And Owww.

My desire to take a walk with her in the forest. My appreciation for her art.

“Elsa does art?”

I suppose her ice creations could count, many are very beautiful. But again, everything turns back to Anna. It’s not about Elsa’s art, only about Anna’s appreciation of it.

How I thought she was quite funny and I didn’t think people noticed how funny she was. I spoke to her about how I wanted to braid her hair. I spoke to her about how sometimes I wanted to be her bath girl, How I knew it was someone’s job and I would never take away someone’s job but it was also fun for me and we needed to give the girl time off sometimes.

That’s a weird hobby to have; giving her sister a bath.

“Anna should try collecting trolls.”

People still collect those?

“The tricky part is keeping them from eating each other. Trolls are notoriously cannibalistic.”

…I think we’re having one of those conversations where we’re talking about two different things.

I cuddled up next to her in silence and listened to her heart. And then a moment later I began to make the lub dup noise that her heart made and then I laughed and hugged her tight.


Not literally!

“I know, I’ve just always wanted to say that.”

“Come Anna,” She said, “It’s time we go upstairs and get ready for the feast. After all we’ve sweat we’ll want baths. I for one will need at least an hour rest, with you by my side of course. Then there are our gowns and dressing. I’m sure we have time. But little extra. Wouldn’t you agree.”

“I would, My Queen. I certainly would. I shan’t say I’m sorry I kept you though.” I answered climbing off of her lap and out of the pool. Extending my hand behind me to help Elsa rise.

They are going to go take baths after spending inordinate amounts of time in pools of hot water. That makes no sense.

“Like you’re not going to spend the next few hours dousing yourself in boiling Brain Bleach and trying to scrub away the shame of this fic?”

You make a compelling argument.

“Never would I ask you, my little love. Never. This is the finest Yuletide I have ever had. And the finest Yule present.

“It’s lazy present, is what it is; sex is what you give someone when you forgot to buy them something or you’re cheap and don’t want to shell out any money for a real gift. Sex is great fun, but a gift should be something substantial; gold, jewels, negotiable securities, that kind of thing.”

Avarice, thy name is Syl.

“Fine, you go to the bank and see if they’ll let you deposit a blowjob. See how much interest you earn on that.”

I’m sure it would attract a lot of interest, but it would be all the wrong kind.

This morning is finer than the finest dream. It’s better than I have the imagination to wish for and that my sweet is a promise. Now stand here in this warm wind a moment more and dry off.

Where the hell is all this warm air coming from? THEY ARE UNDERGROUND!


I like it, let’s go with that.

Then we must put our nightgowns and robes back on as we have nothing else. I don’t even want to guess what the servants will be thinking with us walking the entire length of the castle in our nightclothes but they won’t dare question it. It’s the Queen’s will and that’s all they need know.”

They’re probably used to it, since you walked around in your nightclothes to get to this place and no one thought it was odd. There was even that one guard who cautioned you about going outside without mentioning your nightgowns, so apparently it’s no big deal.

“Going out in public in your undergarments? That’s scandalous!”

:Ghostie stares at Syl:


:Ghostie continues staring at Syl:

“Why are you doing that? It’s creepy.”

You think that’s scandalous. You.

“I do have standards, you know.”

You were chasing Booky-dono around the other day wearing nothing but cranberry sauce!

“But I wasn’t in my undergarments.”

Huh. Can’t argue with you there.

It wasn’t long before we were once again dry and clothed. As we stood before the ice sheet that blocked the entranceway Elsa froze it again with a wave making it brittle enough to crumble to dust on the ground.

Wait, what?

“Elsa froze the frozen thing and made it go away.”

But that’s … What?!?

:looks around: “Are you positive the cuties in the body armor aren’t coming? I’m feeling festive and I have some leftover cranberry sauce.”

Sorry, no.

Again we walked through the empty dungeons, the busy kitchens, the back passageways full of bustling servants, we passed the royal bath chamber where I suggested we tarry.

There’s a separate bath chamber?

“So? You have a dozen different bath rooms in this place.”

Yeah, but those are a fairly recent invention; bathrooms as we know them only became a thing when hot and cold running water became readily available. Before then you had to heat water on a stove and carry it to wherever the bathtub was, so there wasn’t a need for a separate purpose-built room to bathe in. Most wealthy people would bathe in their room so they could dress afterwards without having to go anywhere.

But Elsa said that her bedchamber was our first stop. “My present for you is tiny. A trinket really. I have half a mind to toss it away and get you something bigger like a sleigh, after all the time and effort you spent on me. But I do want to give it to you. Now when it’s just us. Not later at the feast with everyone.”

Anna’s reward for her sexual services would be a sleigh?

“Damn. I knew she was bad, but I didn’t know she was that bad.”

In this time period, it would be similar to giving someone a brand new car.

“What could she possibly have done to earn that?”

“Oh Elsa,” I said. “Don’t tease me. What did you get me? Is it a bracelet, a necklace? Earrings? Are you going to let me get my ears pierced?”

“You may not get your ears pierced. Perhaps I will get you clip on earrings.” Elsa said.

“But obviously that’s not what my Yule present is.” I said.


Because clip on earrings aren’t a thing yet. They weren’t invented until the 1930s. There were non-pierced earrings before that, the Victorians invented them when they decided that only savages pierced their ears, but they were screw-backs.

“They’ve already done that.”


“Screwed their backsides.”


I paused then speechless because we had reached the landing of her apartments and I could see the hillock of snow in the corner and I could see the ice sculpture of the kissing sisters, that seemed like it was so long ago and I was frozen to the floor instantly. Although only for a moment.

Why hasn’t that melted yet? IT’S RIGHT IN FRONT OF THE FIREPLACE!

“Magical ice powers.”

Elsa’s ice still melts! And she couldn’t have maintained it with her powers since she wasn’t anywhere near the room.

“Magical. ICE. Powers.”

Saying the same thing in a slightly different way doesn’t change anything.

“Then why do all these authors keep doing it?”

Elsa kept walking because she was walking looking at me and trusting her body to know it’s way through the castle, as of course it did.

:Syl looks at the Riffing Chamber door and sighs:

Trust me, they aren’t coming.

“Well, now they aren’t going to.”

She took a few steps. Then stopped and turned to see what I was staring at. Then she turned back to me with such love and joy in her eyes. And she was tearing up a bit, as suddenly, was I. For the briefest of moments I was going to ask her if she thought the servants had seen it, but I realized many things at once. Most of them facets of the idea that if my dreams were going to become reality, as it was beginning to seem they very possibly would, the servants were going to see a great many things. I also was reminded of something Elsa had said not that very long ago on the subject of nightclothes in the afternoon. “It’s the Queen’s will and that’s all they need to know.”

More like “It’s the SI Sue’s will, so to hell with what anyone else thinks”.

“For a self-insert, Anna didn’t do much inserting.”

That’s not what that means and you know it.

“Come Anna, the sculpture is lovely and I really am proud of it, thank you for modeling and inspiration, but we have things to do.” She took the few steps back to take my hand and then walked me back to her bedroom. “Oh Pooh!” She said when she saw her bed perfectly made.

“What’s wrong Elsa?” I asked.

She’s suddenly warped reality to create another room?

“Have you been drinking from the unlabeled bottles again? Because apparently you’re not supposed to do that.”

Not enough. But in the beginning of the chapter Anna jumps on Elsa while she’s asleep in bed and Elsa then creates the pile of snow – there shouldn’t be another room.

“I sleep with your Yule present under my pillow. Especially last night because I knew you were going to bounce in here and wake me. But then you did and I was going to give it to you right after the snowman. But the snowman wasn’t a snowman was he?

I guess technically they would still be snowmen, just weird incestuous versions of snowmen.

“That doesn’t make it better.”

Nothing makes this better.

“Even fire?”

This stupid snow laughs at fire.

Then my mind wasn’t in my head anymore and I was so curious about my present and I expected to be right back.” She was ransacking the royal bed.”

“I thought that was Anna’s job?”

:Ghostie facepalms:

“Oh, there’s another one for the List!” :makes note:

“Calm down, we’ll find it.” I said. “Didn’t you say it was in a small box? Maybe you are binding it up with other things trying to look for it?

“You’re right pet. I think I put it in my pillowcase proper so it’d be in my dreams.” She separated the small white goosedown puff from the ornate gold braid cushions the bed was decorated with and found a small square box in the center. She sat on the bed and motioned me onto her knee. “Joyous Yule, sister.”

Oh, so the frickin’ pillows deserve descriptive narration? Nothing else in this fic has gotten anything other than the barest description, even the sex is couched in euphemisms and vagueness, but the pillows are important enough to rate it?

“I’d much rather read about the pillows than have to sit through another sex scene.”

I’m with you there. We’re getting close to the end, so I really hope there’s not another one.

“Thank you, Elsa.” I sat on her lap with one arm around her waist so I could hug her to me while I opened my present.

That’s going to be an awkward position; in order for Anna to wrap her arm around Elsa’s waist, she would have to be laying down with her shoulders in Elsa’s lap.

“She just can’t keep her head away from Elsa’s nether regions.”

According to the first part of the chapter, Elsa has some kind of organic magnet in her vagina.


It was a small golden box. Obviously jewelry, as I suspected. What I saw when I opened it left me speechless and crying.

“I feel the same way when someone gives me jewelry.”

:Ghostie glares at Syl:

“When I have new jewelry.”

:Ghostie continues glaring:

“Okay, when I’ve stolen jewelry.”

:Ghostie continues glaring:

:crosses arms over chest: “I don’t like what you’re implying.”

I didn’t say anything!

“There were subtle nuances.”

It was the signet ring worn by the last Prince Consort, the last time there had been a ruling Queen of Arendelle. It had been reworked and sized to be worn by a woman. “It would have taken weeks for this to be done.” I said.

“Weeks?!? What the hell kind of half-assed jeweler did Elsa employ?”

I don’t know; the last time I had a ring resized it took a couple of weeks to get it back.

“But you aren’t a queen, are you? A minor alteration to the band shouldn’t take so long to complete.”

It does say it was reworked, so it is possible that the signet itself was remade to reflect that Anna is a princess and not a prince.

“Then why use the Prince Consort’s ring at all, if the band and the signet are both new?”

… That’s a good question. I have no idea.

“And you let me try to educate you about how there were Gods who had married siblings and there were no laws about marrying your sister and no laws about two women marrying.” I smiled as I cried happy tears. “I feel like a foolish little goosegirl.”

You sounded like a dumbass who didn’t know what they were talking about.

“And Elsa never really reacted to anything she said. I think Anna was just talking to hear herself speak.”

“You oughtn’t.” Elsa said eyes damp, but chin out, proud. “You were logical, you quoted precedent. You did it like an educated stateswoman and the Queen’s Chief advisor.

“She was logical?”

First I’ve heard about it. The only “precedents” she quoted were the fact that a couple of male gods married their sisters…

“Which isn’t really applicable to their situation since they are both women.”

And  that there are no laws specifically stating two women can’t marry…

“Which doesn’t mean it would be considered acceptable or appropriate, as evidenced by the legal shenanigans in the US regarding same-sex unions.”

And that in prehistoric times women didn’t know where babies came from.

“Has anatomy changed that much?”

Don’t be a smartass; she was referring to conception, not the actual location babies are born from. :pauses: At least, I hope she was.

“I don’t think the author knows how sex works, so it is possible they are a bit unclear on the baby-making situation.”

I was going to do it like Father.

:Ghostie wordless dumps another bucket of boiling Brain Bleach over her head:

“Can I get some of that?”

Sure. :hands Syl the bucket: I didn’t think this kind of thing bothered you.

“It doesn’t.” :places bucket on the floor and sticks her feet in it: “I just wanted to soak my tootsies.”

What?!? :attempts to grab bucket: Give me that!

“No! :holds on to bucket: My tootsies!”

—a brief scuffle ensues—

:Ghostie crouches behind the remains of the console, clutching a slightly dented bucket like a teddy bear and nursing a black eye. Syl  sits on the floor a short distance away, applying Mickey Mouse Band-Aids to her arms and legs. Both women are soaked in Brain Bleach:

:muttering: Stupid pirate, sticking her nasty feet in my good bucket.

“What was that?”

:louder: Nothing!

“You know, for someone who’s supposedly an intellectual you really enjoy biting people.”

I don’t have the combat skills that some of the other members of the Library staff have, so I stick with what I know.

“Well, you really should start flossing more regularly.”

Just do whatever I liked, and if they didn’t like it we’d lock the country’s gates for thirteen years.”

Wait, thirteen years? I thought it was ten years?

“That doesn’t sound like the movie I watched. Of course, I had a few dozen of Glasses’ nearly lethal Tequila Sunrises so my memory is a bit fuzzy in places.”

The king didn’t lock the country’s gates; he locked the palace’s gates, which is a completely different thing. He was isolating Elsa, to protect her and his people. And did Elsa just admit that she was willing to become a ruthless dictator just so she could marry Anna?

“Anything to make the rapey dolphin’s dreams come true, I guess.”

I am so glad this fic is over.

“Amen. Let me buy you a drink, dimples.”

Buy? You?

“Well … There will be drinking.”

Good enough for me.

:Ghostie and Syl wave:

Until next time, Patrons!


60 Comments on “1286: Joyous Yule – Oneshot, Part 2”

  1. The Crowbar says:

    Welcome back, dear Patrons!

    WHY THIS?!


  2. The Crowbar says:

    So we can swim in tandem and kiss. Brushing against each other so sweetly, doesn’t that sound lovely.”

    Please no.

    Just… I saw enough of this from the last one!

  3. The Crowbar says:

    “Hey, she’s doing the meat-raft! We should add that to the Library’s List of Euphemisms.”


    Whoever this Syl is, I like her.

  4. The Crowbar says:

    We swam around kissing more for a few minutes.

    And then Elsa finds out that she’s been kissing a corpse for the last minute or so.

  5. The Crowbar says:

    Elsa has a wormhole generator in the middle of her lady garden.

    That sounds like one big fucking lady garden, Ghostie…

  6. The Crowbar says:

    I would show her that our lives were destined in the stars to twine and our legs and our souls and I would plait every part of us that could plait by the gods.

    You… Erh’…


  7. The Crowbar says:

    I wanted to be a passionate lover to my sister, and if it were her interest that I plow her like a mare,



  8. The Crowbar says:

    “She could be fucking the snowman.”

    Fucks sake, can this get ANY worse?!

    How would she even… Does she just take the carrot from the snowman and…

    I wish I had not thought of that.

  9. The Crowbar says:

    Well, this was an incestuous train wreck of the ages!

    Can I jump in a volcano now?

  10. AdmiralSakai says:

    Think of a frog swimming. Come on my love, swim like a frog for me. Just like on your back, but on your belly now. I’ve got you. Just relax and swim like a wee froggie. Just be Anna’s wee froggie just for me.”

    *unpleasant flashback to the Deep One negotiations in that one Call of Cthulhu campaign*

  11. AdmiralSakai says:

    “At least I didn’t say something was both intrusive and inviting. Those are two different things!”

    Not to Google they ain’t…

  12. AdmiralSakai says:

    That’s not even the right metaphor; you can plow with a horse, but you don’t actually plow a horse!

    “You could, but it would end messy.”

    So, basically, this with a horse instead of a car?

    Not that I don’t wish explosive gibby death on these characters, but…

  13. AdmiralSakai says:

    Where the hell is all this warm air coming from? THEY ARE UNDERGROUND!


    I like it, let’s go with that.

    I was going to go with the farting dragon from Samurai Jack, but yours works too.

  14. AdmiralSakai says:

    According to the first part of the chapter, Elsa has some kind of organic magnet in her vagina.



  15. “That’s not very helpful. That Guide must be terrible.”

    Agent [REDACTED]: Most guides are.

  16. DasCheesenBorgir says:

    ‘Where the hell is all this warm air coming from?’


  17. DasCheesenBorgir says:

    ‘When I saw the priestess of Freya **drunkenly groping** the mead master’s daughter **it was Elsa I thought about**’

    …does… anyone else see anything kinda off about this statement?

    • GhostCat says:

      Anna fantasizes about Elsa while her parents kiss, so the fact that she equates the fumblings of a drunk as a positive thing to emulate aren’t quite that bad.

      It would probably be a touch less creepy if there was any mention of how old the mead master’s daughter was, though.

  18. Harlow says:

    Sterling Bengtzing: “. . .”
    “…Y’all are fucked up. Did ya forget your meds or what?”

  19. Tragedy says:

    None of that was anywhere near kinky. Writing romance is harder than I thought.

  20. Delta XIII says:


    That’s not a real word.

    Well, it should be!

  21. I read this… I don’t know why. Now whenever my girlfriend decides to watch Frozen, I’m gonna end up thinking about this and want to hurl.

  22. Swenia says:

    “Would you say I have also demonstrated an exemplary knowledge of the stroke which allowed me to perform it while kissing you and enjoying your playful but possessively thorough exploration of my bottomhole; that shows a Queenly mastery of the stroke such would make my Noble instructor proud?”

    *Puts her popcorn back in the tub and pushes it aside*

    Seriously, what the fuck is this? How did the author manage to make this less sensual than Crunchy making forced overtures?

    • GhostCat says:

      I think I’d rather hear Crunchy rambling about cloaca than read this.

      • Crunchyraptor says:

        Well! Now that you mention it, I happen to have a twenty-four part poem dedicated to the beauty and efficiency of the universe’s most perfect organ.


        Part one: An Ode to the Vent

        Dearest ve-

        *Mauled by lion*

  23. Swenia says:

    I don’t know which is worse; getting scraped knees from sex or not getting scraped knees because the sex was so bad.

    Eventually you get callouses, so the scraping stops being an issue.

  24. Swenia says:

    My stars but her sweet nether lips looked pretty after I’d sucked on them and made them puffy.

    Uh, ew. There are many things about the female body which are pretty. That is not among them, especially not when swollen.

  25. TacoMagic says:

    Crunchy said something about recreating levels from Majora’s Mask down in the basements; I wasn’t really paying attention because my coat was trying to eat my face.

    Crunchy once told me that he was a creative consultant for Castlevania 2. After five years with him around, I’m starting to believe him.

  26. "Lyle" says:

    “If it’s alright.” I don’t know why I wanted to. I think just because it was there, within reach and it was warm and moist and intimate. I wanted to know all her most intimate of places.

    Warm, I’ll give you. Intimate, sure. But if Elsa’s asshole is moist there’s a serious problem. Butts don’t produce lubricant on their own and water is a horrible lubricant for any sort of sexy-times. If she’s got a moist butt, she’s got some anal leakage going on and you’d best get your fingers out of there, and yourself out of that water, before you catch whatever is causing it.

  27. "Lyle" says:

    :Ghostie repeatedly bangs her head against the chalkboard:

    Well, that explains the mysterious smudges I had to clean off it the other day…

  28. "Lyle" says:

    :Ghostie continues glaring:

    :crosses arms over chest: “I don’t like what you’re implying.”

    I didn’t say anything!

    “There were subtle nuances.”

    I believe the answer is “When you’re stealing pancakes” then.

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