"Do you like that, Chandy? You're flying!"
The little prince squealed and giggled gibberishly before his mother's actions in sheer thrill at being held up in mid air, and he wasn't the only one who's smiling because of this adorable sight. Elsa lightly bounced his small figure between her hands, earning a giddy laugh from the elated baby boy.
"Let's go to the stars!" Elsa cheered to excite her son more. Chandler laughed and waved out his slightly ample arms in the air as the queen continued her actions.
"Is my little snowflake laughing? Huh?" She finally lowered him down on top of her rising and falling chest, burying her nose on the smooth skin of his neck, "Oh no! Your wings are gone!" She dramatically tapped his tiny nose in faux dismay, "Whatever shall we do, now?"
Chandler smiled and placed his chubby hand on his mother's cheek, not exactly replying to her question. Elsa chuckled before pressing her lips against the two month old's crown as she watched him gently lay his head on her breast tiredly.
"Hey, Chandler... do.. Do you love mama?"
She felt pathetic for asking such a question, to a child, no less, who does not yet have the ability to speak. But she couldn't help it. Could infants even feel affection, somehow?
She asked the question for a valid reason... or it's only herself who considers it necessary.
Was she a good mother so far?
Chandler looked up at her in curiosity, round eyed and innocent. He just stared at her, memorizing every bit of his mother's pretty features.
And in that moment, he babbled incoherently before wrapping his arms around her neck, and even though one could barely call it a proper embrace, the ice queen felt that familiar warmth swarming her chest again.
Aiden... Your son.. Our son... He's just like you.
Elsa sniffled and flashed him a watery smile, "D-did you... Did you understand that, Chandler?"
Chandler gently pulled away and returned his head of platinum blonde tresses to sag back on his mother's breast, yawning quietly as his eyes grew more sluggish. Elsa simply stared at him in silent awe, marveling at how time swiftly passes by so fast.
If she had consistently refused to return back home with Anna during the Great Freeze, would she still have the opportunity to be a sister? A mother? A wife?
Would she still be loved?
"Sleep tight, little love," She murmured.
You are my snowflake,
my only snowflake.
Aiden peeped behind the door implicitly, a gloved hand readily upon the cool surface of the knob. He was just thankful he hadn't twisted it yet.
You make me happy,
when skies are gray.
Gods was she amazing. Chandler's conciousness sinked further as his mother sang without restraint; this was not the graceful and reserved queen Aiden is seeing.
All Aiden saw was a mother.
You'll never know, dear,
how much I love you...
His heart defenselessly melted between agitated breaths as the door creaked by his muscled back, but he managed to keep it in place to ensure he remains hidden.
Please don't take, my snowflake away.
Chandler heavily slept contentedly in his bed of warmth; releasing soft little noises near to an audible snore. Elsa tenderly patted his head and grabbed a clean cloth to wipe that trail of drool from the corner of the infant's lips.
"Aiden," She rolled her eyes, "I know you're in there, behind the door."
Her husband emerged quietly from his hiding spot, mocking a denial, "I only arrived just now, darling."
"Yeah, sure," She smirked, "Anyway, what do you need, lover?"
Aiden lets a mischievous grin play across before he sat right next to his wife in peace, "You and your pretty lips. Glad you asked."
Elsa's face hastily reddened, "N-no, what I mean is what made you pass by here..."
He smiled, "Nothing, actually. I just wanted to see you both," He tenderly caressed her jaw before his warm hand moved down to his son's, "Where's my little princess, by the way?"
"She's with Anna in the library," She lowered her head to her husband's shoulder, "Kiss me?"
"My pleasure, my lady," He granted her request in a heartbeat, locking his eyes on hers as he closed the gap between them.
After pulling away, the little prince who snoozed like a rock finally got to curl up against the soft fluff of his pillow, nuzzling it with the tip of his nose.
Aiden rapidly wrapped an arm around his beloved's waist before pulling her closer, a gloved hand moving up from her hips to her flawless, bare back.
"So, alone at last. You thinking what I'm thinking, pretty eyes?" He skittishly queried against the lobe of her ear.
Elsa coyly smirked, wrapping her arms around his neck, "Let's get out of here, minn elskede."
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
𝐆𝐀𝐑𝐃𝐄𝐍𝐒
"This is impressive work, Helena."
The amber eyed former queen looked away shyly, "U-uh, thank you. I apologize if there are a lot of erasures, I didn't have time to finalize the draft."
"No, no," The redhead assured with a look of astonishment, "This just brings out more of the concept and nothing else could be more perfect. Let me just," He pulled out a new sheet of paper, "... Rewrite it right here- oh my, my bad."
Another piece of drawing paper which looked a bit aged and old came out of the author's brown satchel, unfolding momentarily once it touched the ground.
Helena, desperate to help, picked it up before examining the well detailed sketch of a woman who seems to be at least in her mid-thirties, the dark hue of her hair resembling a darker shade of brown.
"This is a nice sketch, Noah," Helena politely commented, "Who is she?"
The impressed smile faltered completely from the redhead's lips.
"Oh... That's um... That's my... Wife."
A guilty bite of envy tore through Helena's heart, her mind pondering of how sweet of a gesture it is for this man to draw out his wife with visible effort. "She looks very beautiful. How come I never see her with you?"
Noah bit his lip a little more harder.
"She's... She's dead."
Her heart sank.
"I'm... I'm sorry."
The redhead shook his head and forced on a smile, "Don't be, it's my fault, my hand slipped. Erm, shall we continue with our project, then?"
The former queen nodded simply, taking a mental note that the redhead is uncomfortable with the current subject. She couldn't help but keep her thoughts to herself, she didn't want to ramble and sound nosy.
"So.. Uh... What inspired you to form these characters' personality?" She broke the silence.
Noah smiled as he continued to rewrite, "Ah, you mean Douglas and Charlotte."
Noah had always been so astounded and moved by his own self. Not the arrogant way, no.
Everything that revolves around him can't even get a single clue of the true person he hid beneath a body of a man who received countless awards and sentiments resembling applauding admiration.
Every word he wrote in each passage made every one of his readers feel what his characters do. Periodically, pain, love, happiness, excitement, thrill, the like. In short, what his very hands create is simply to be described as "Magical."
Life for him used to be so colorful. One would think it's because of the fruits of his raw talent, but it wasn't that. It used to be that. But not anymore.
None had a clue what he truly felt as he writes, in his cozy study where everything began.
None of them had a clue that everything he brought to life used to be so genuine.
They didn't know that every sentence held a distant memory.
"I don't intend to be arrogant," Amazing, Noah, you're finally being honest, "But I only transferred a hidden trait of mine to my protagonist, Douglas."
"I see," Helena nodded, "Fascinating. I actually discovered your work through my son," She chuckled, "Books are the only things that kept him preoccupied in his much younger years. He always got his nose on smooth pages."
"I presume the books he read is about something connected to politics?"
"Not really. He's got better tastes," Helena smiled, "Liking your work, for example. Your craft is simply commendable."
Noah blushed.
"Yours, too."
To be continued
on the next chapter...