Greir was the angriest captive the Snow Queen has ever seen. And she’s captured rage pixies before.
She doesn’t know how her lover happened to be captured; only that Greir had been traveling in the frozen tundras to the extreme bordering east of her kingdom. Frigga, the queen of those lands, was likely to try to keep any who dared trespass on her lands; she’s not surprised she tried to hold Greir captive for a pittance that the Queen was willing to pay but Frigga was willing to fight for.
Making haste, she freezes the lock on her bonds before breaking it and freeing her girlfriend. Greir immediately leaps up from the chair that had held her; the look of frantic anger that colors her features tells a tale of blatant fear she felt for the Queen's well-being.
“I meant for her to capture me!” she said, rubbing her chilled red cheek.
“Of course,” the queen smiles.
When they’re alone, riding apace and toward Frigga’s palace for redress, there is a thank-you; mumbled softly but heartily meant.
The queen pats her lover’s hand. “I’m always happy to save you from yourself. You’ve done it for me often enough.”
Her dark blue blush, well-noticed by Greir, was a sign of deep affection that neither of them had the time to pursue at the moment. But between them it laid, a beautiful example of what might be if they had the courage to be caught…and rescued.