White Boots and Moonlight

SFW Hansanna oneshot. Anna steals Hans away for a late night swim.

They were going to get caught.

He'd known it from the very instant Anna had shown up outside his bedchamber dressed in only her nightshift and boots. One of these days, they were going to get caught.

It was the full moon. The moon's fault making him act so inappropriate, so crazy, and not in fact, the way his heart and imagination sped up seeing her—hair down, slip of thin fabric covering her body, those boots. Those damn white leather boots. Sparkle in her eye, mischievous grin on her lips. Her hand outstretched, beckoning him to get dressed and follow her. Certainly the moon's fault and not his desire for her, or the way she held sway over him.

And he was shoving his own boots on then. Hastily fastening his trousers, his linen shirt barely tucked in. 'Don't bother with the waistcoat,' she'd said to him, and he'd obeyed. Her hand grasping his hand the very moment his boots were on. She had tugged him onwards and out the door, her footsteps barely a click on the marble floors, a giggle stifled, as she led him down, down, down through the palace and out the servant's doors into the night.

"Where are we going?" he asked once outside, knowing she wouldn't answer, wouldn't tell him a thing until they were there. She was like that, always so quiet with her plans, but that sparkle in her eye and that grin on her face made him crazy, drove him wild. He didn't mind not knowing. Didn't mind the surprise. Where ever she would lead him, it would be worth it. Worth getting caught. Anna was always worth the trouble. He'd learned that quick enough.

When she came for him, he always obliged. How could he not? She was a tempest, she was a dream, she was the moon.

And on this balmy summer night, barely dressed, running with her through the night, the sound of their boots hitting the ground in unison as they ran, he wanted her the way he'd only heard about in stories. The kind of tales his mom used to tell him by candlelight, romantic tales of forbidden love, of gentlemen and ladies destined to be together while the world did its best to keep them apart. 'Love matters most, Hans,' she had told him.

He'd forgotten that advice until Anna made him remember it. Made him want it. Made him into the sort of dashing, roguish hero all young men secretly want to be. And he loved it. Just as he loved the night air on his skin, and her hand so hot in his. Her grip on him tight and firm, a sensation leading his mind to wonder where else on him that grip of hers would feel good.

His ears burned red at the thought. They hadn't gone that far yet. They couldn't. But with each soft knock on his door at night, they were getting closer and closer to that moment. When he'd finally get to touch the moon. But for now, he could wait. It was maddening, but he could wait. Anna would be worth it.

"Almost there!" she said, the giggle on her lips as she broke from his grasp and ran ahead of him, the pale moonlight illuminating her skin. She was the most beautiful creature he'd ever seen—would ever see. He slowed his run to take in the true vision of her; prancing and laughing towards a thicket of trees under that bright full moon, like some little pagan wood nymph tempting him to his fate. To his heart's true desire.

He drew in a sharp breath, nearly tripping. His legs just as surprised as his eyes when she pulled that nightgown up and over her head, throwing it off her body as she ran. That slim, naked figure in those damn white boots disappearing into the trees.

"Come on!" she urged. Her voice merry and high.

And he ran after her. Heart pounding, legs pumping, tugging his own shirt off and throwing it aside as he raced to catch up with her, bursting through the thicket of trees to find her. And there she was, back to him, kicking off her boots, standing before a glistening pool of water reflecting the moon on its surface. The sound of rushing water giving away where they were. The bottom of their waterfall.

Boots off, she tilted her head to look at him for just a moment, silent and coy and every bit the seductress. Then she turned away from him and dove straight into the pool. Straight into the moon. The water rippled, breaking up the moon's reflection and she emerged, droplets raining around her, glinting moonlight as they fell. He lost his breath. His mind. And he'd die if he didn't have her in his arms like that, wet and untamed, pure. The moon. If he wasn't a part of her.

He couldn't get the rest of his clothes off fast enough, tugging madly at his boots as she laughed from the water. He was boorish and clumsy, struggling with his boots. His hands barely able to unbutton his trousers efficiently as though he'd been struck stupid in her presence. His trousers tangled around his ankles as he kicked and pulled, desperately trying to be rid of the fabric as quickly as humanly possible so he could join her.

When at last he was free, he dove right in, the shock of cold doing nothing to quell the heat in his loins. He swam up to meet her while she waited. His nymph. His goddess. His moon. Her fingers intertwined with his when he reached her, her lips planted firmly on his in a kiss he was certain couldn't exist anywhere but here, in this exact moment.

She'd sealed his fate with that kiss, whether that was her plan or not, he'd never know. He'd follow this woman to the end of the earth and back if she knocked on his door and held out her hand to him.

When their mouths broke away, heated and breathless, she slipped out of his reach. Sparkling eyes, mischievous grin. Leading him to catch her again in the moonlight, in the water. Their boots left side by side on the rocks.