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Thank you so much for your kind words! And for letting me know about Tumblr being a clown website, as usual. Seems the tags are even more borked than usual in the new year. Hopefully that will be fixed soon.

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Rated T // Angst with a happy ending, Canon Divergence AU, For want of a nail AU

After bringing the queen back to Arendelle, Hans sits with her in the dungeon and considers his next move.

Sequel to To Follow the Sun.

Happy holidays Helsa fandom!

Looking back, there were several times Hans should have realized he was in trouble. In the ice palace, he had been dazzled by both the ice magic and the queen herself. Shock and awe would have been permissible reactions, perhaps even the obvious ones. But his awe had stumbled a little too close towards reverence. He should have been more careful when he brought her back to Arendelle. How natural it had seemed at the time that he should carry her home personally. How comfortably she had seemed to fit in his arms. Remembering her look of terror as she faced the Duke’s men, it had been too easy to pity her. Poor Queen Elsa, he had found himself thinking, if only things could have been different. And slowly, without his conscious approval, that pity had morphed into a kind of sympathy. As they spoke of monsters in the dungeon, he had the feeling that he understood her.

Now, as he sat looking down at the sleeping queen, sympathy and reverence and understanding swirled about in his head. They threatened to combine into something unnamable, dangerous, and far too tender for a man like him to contemplate. If he had seen the warning signs, he would have known better than to hum her softly to sleep. If he had been paying attention, maybe he could have resisted the urge to stroke her hair. But he had never seen her so soft or so peaceful. Her hair seemed to glow even in the dim light of the dungeon. So he had slipped off his gloves and gently brushed the tendrils back from her forehead.

What if Anna never returns? whispered a traitorous voice in the back of his mind. It is better to be prepared for any possibility. But this was at best a flimsy justification and at worst a treacherous path to tread. He shoved the thought down with all the other foolish dreams he dared not articulate, even to himself.

He knew he should be out searching for the princess, or endearing himself to the people, or any number of other things that might be productive or useful. But when she had asked him to stay, he had found her impossible to refuse. There was something about her that entranced him. Perhaps it was the throne or the wonderous power she wielded. He did not wish to contemplate the alternative. He had even, for a moment, considered letting her go when she begged him to. But then where would he be? No queen, no princess, no thaw. No chance for his own kingdom. No chance to mean anything. Although it was not as though he was making any progress toward that goal presently.

In her sleep, she had stretched out so her head was lying in his lap. This was not the most comfortable position for Hans, but he could not bring himself to disturb her. All he could do was watch. Her expression held a serenity that was so different from her former rigid fear. It was almost beatific. Part of him wanted to remain there forever, soaking up that gentle radiance until it was a part of him. If he remained frozen in that moment, he could almost become part of the world that might have been. A world where he really was who he pretended to be, and where she had found it easy to love him. It would have been so much easier that way. So much less bloody.

He was sure he had convinced her at last of his wholesome persona. Or perhaps the people of Arendelle had done his work for him. He had been surprised by the strength of their response when he brought the queen back to the city, and he knew she could not have failed to notice. In a way, he felt more natural walking among the citizenry. There he could at least be honest. He would never have to betray them by the sword. The transition between Prince Hans, indispensable foreigner, and King Hans the Good, benevolent ruler of Arendelle, would be simple and bloodless on their end.

He knew he should have felt more satisfaction at the success of his lie. She truly thought that he was kind and brave and good and all those other things that princes were in fairy stories. She saw in him all those traits that came so easily to her. Despite all she knew and feared about the harsh cold of the world, she trusted him. He should have been glad. The queen’s trust would put him one step closer to achieving his goal. Finally, he would matter. But the rosy dawn of his approaching victory was marred by regret. Once upon a time, he too had thought he might be one of those heroic princes. Part of him still wished he could believe his own lies. But it was much too late for that now.

How funny it was that the queen had thought herself a monster. She was a force of nature unto herself, no more a monster than a lightning strike or a wave upon the sea. There was nothing monstrous about acting out of instinct, acting out of terror. She had spent her whole life learning to be afraid of herself. And despite her fear, she cared so much for her sister and for her people. There was nothing monstrous about that. No, Hans knew better. To be a monster was to coldly devise a plan and then act on it, no matter the cost. To be a monster was not to care at all. Although he may have been damned either way. Here in the dungeon, he was coming dangerously close to something like caring.

His reverie was rudely interrupted by the opening of the cell door. A guard rushed in before Hans even had time to react, his eyes widening as he took in the queen’s sleeping form. But clearly his message outweighed any shock he may have felt.

“Princess Anna has returned! She’s asking to see you. Something’s happened.” Hans was not sure whether he should cheer or curse. The princess’s return marked his impending victory. It meant he could proceed with his plan to reach the throne. But it also spelled the end of this paradoxical moment, where he felt he could suspend his choice and be at once hero and schemer. The die had been cast. His mind leapt into action even as he sluggishly moved to wake the queen. If the princess had made it back to the castle alive, what could possibly have happened? He needed more information to plan his next move. If he could just speak to her alone… One thing was certain. He could not let her see him like this.

“Take her to the library. I will meet her—” But any plans he could have made rushed right out the window, for Princess Anna came barreling through the door. She hardly seemed to notice his position with the queen, which had become less compromising only in that he had removed his hand from her hair. He noticed the princess seemed covered in snow and ice, as if she had been out in the elements for too long. Even her hair was white with it.

“Hans, you have to kiss me!”

“What?” said Hans and Queen Elsa in unison. She sat up like a shot, her chains rattling at the motion. Anna seemed to regard her sister for the first time.

“Elsa, how did you get here? What have they done to you? Oh, you can tell me later. We don’t have time!”

“What happened?” Hans stood and reached out toward Anna. She clung to him desperately. He could feel how cold her hands were even through the layers of his clothes. She seemed hardly able to support her own weight.

“Elsa struck me with her powers.”

“No!” Queen Elsa’s anguished cry cut off any response he could have made. Wind and snow began to whip around the tiny cell, although her hands remained encased in iron. She strained at the limits of her bindings, trying to reach Anna.

“It froze my heart, and only an act of true love can save me.” She staggered, and Hans lifted her up and carried her to the cot in the corner. Queen Elsa was instantly at her side, standing with her arms wrapped tightly around herself.

“I’m so sorry, Anna. I never meant for any of this to happen. I never meant to hurt you. Please, I’ll do anything I can to fix this,” said the queen. Hans could hear that she was on the verge of tears.

“You didn’t? I mean, I know you didn’t. But don’t worry, all I need is an act of true love, and everything will be all right.” Despite her weakness, Anna’s voice was tinged with her characteristic optimism. The snow hung suspended in the air.

“A true love’s kiss,” said Hans slowly. This was troublesome. He knew his kiss could not cure her. How could he continue his ruse after that failure? He doubted she would want to marry him if it wasn’t true love. But then a plan flashed into his mind, greater and more devious than any he had made before. He could be rid of both of them in one fell swoop. Let the princess die and blame the queen, clearing his path to the throne. This was the chance he had waiting for and better luck than he could have possibly dreamed. The risks were high, but so were the rewards.

“Don’t you think we should get some privacy?” he asked. All he needed to do was get the princess alone. He could have no witnesses, not even the captive queen. But things were never that easy.

“There’s no time for that! Please, it has to be now!” Queen Elsa stood aside so he could be closer to Anna. He could see no other way out. So this was how it would end. As he knelt beside her, he felt of sudden wave of anger. Of course she had run off impulsively and gotten herself into this mess. Of course her cure would have to be the one thing that would expose his deceit. He wanted to say something cruel, to twist the knife in the best way he knew how. Resentment threatened to overwhelm him.

Making a final attempt to stall, he said, “I really don’t think—” But his protestations were cut off when the princess abruptly slammed her face against his own. Her lips landed half on his mouth and half on his cheek, dry and cold as ice. It took him a fraction of a second too long to school his shocked face into a more neutral expression. Then, just as quickly, she pulled away.

“Oh,” she said softly. He did not have to look at her to know it had not worked. “I guess it has to go the other way. Maybe you have to kiss me.” His heart sank.

He could feel the queen’s eyes on him. How much had she seen? If only he had not stayed with her for so long, he could have been home free. He could have seen the princess privately and broken her heart without consequence. He could have been as ruthless as he needed to be to wear the crown. His moment of weakness had cost him everything. Had the brief illusion of goodness been worth it?

The realization hit him with the pain and immediacy of a lightning strike: it might have been. Everything else seemed to crumble away. For those few minutes, he had not been the unwanted thirteenth prince. He had not been the romantic stand-in in someone else’s fairytale. He had not even been the archetypal hero destined to save the frozen city. He had just been a good man who cared.

Perhaps this was not the ruin he had feared. Perhaps this was fate giving him a second chance, an opportunity to be the man Queen Elsa thought he was. The idea filled him with a strange feeling that could have been either euphoria or madness. He had been wrong. The die had not been cast yet, after all. The choice was his to make.

But his newfound resolution toward goodness was not enough to extricate him from his current predicament. The princess was still expecting him to kiss her. He could talk himself into being kind, but he could not talk himself into true love. There were not too many other options. Perhaps he could go through with it and pretend to be surprised when it produced no result. No, he would not prolong her suffering by lying to her. If he could not save her, at least he would not give her false hope. That left him with only one solution. He would come clean and hope for a small chance at forgiveness.

“Anna,” he began. Christ, he was really doing this. He took a deep breath and continued, “What if this isn’t true love?” The temperature dropped sharply, and he heard Queen Elsa give a muffled gasp.

“You… don’t love me?” Anna looked so hurt that he wished he had said something cruel to her, if only to put her out of her misery a little faster. Before his very eyes, another chunk of her hair turned white.

“It’s not that,” he said, even though it very much was, “It’s just, well, we’ve only just met. We only spent a few hours together. What if we both got caught up in the atmosphere? I saw in you the chance for love, recognition, power. Everything I ever wanted. It all seemed too good to be true; maybe I deluded myself into thinking it was. But it’s not a question of loving you so much as knowing you.”

There was more truth in this than Hans would previously have admitted to himself. His chance meeting with her at the docks had seemed like something out of a fairytale, and the glamorous coronation ball had only served to heighten the illusion. He may not have believed in true love, but he had briefly entertained the childish notion that they could have been happy together. How lucky he would have been if his ambitions and his heart were so compatible. But he had come back down to earth quickly. The princess was clumsy and naïve, impulsive to a fault. Quirks which he had found charming at first descended into irritations. But, for all her silliness, she did not deserve this.

“I’m sorry, Anna,” he added, making his best attempt at sincerity. He could tell from her face that his words were cold comfort. Suddenly, she pitched forward, throwing her arms around him. It took him several seconds to realize that she was not in the throes of some frozen death seizure but was merely sobbing onto his shoulder. He awkwardly wrapped his arm around her in return, patting her gently on the back.

When Anna at last looked up at him, she said tearfully, “I’m sorry too, Hans. I should have known better.” He was not going to tell her that yes, she really should have.

“It’s not your fault, Anna,” said Queen Elsa. She hovered anxiously on the periphery. Hans saw the way she hesitated to get too near to Anna.

“Yes, it is. Kristoff knew right away that it couldn’t be true love. If he could tell, why couldn’t I?”

“Who’s Kristoff?” The queen and Hans spoke at the same time, sounding equally suspicious.

“Didn’t I say? He’s an ice harvester. He has a reindeer. He’s the one who took me to the ice palace, and he brought me here safely. I should have listened to him, but I was foolish. I’ve been foolish this whole time. I’m the one who got us into this mess.”

“You mustn’t blame yourself,” said the queen, “If anyone is at fault here, it’s me.”

“Don’t say that!” Anna reached out for her sister, but she shied away. Anna’s face fell.

Perhaps trying to deflect, Queen Elsa said, “What do we do now? There has to be some other way.”

“I don’t know,” said Anna dejectedly, “I don’t know how to find my true love, or if I even have one. Unless… Kristoff!” Hans caught the queen’s eye. He could tell they were thinking the same thing: hadn’t they only just met? Why should this time be any different?

“Do you think he can help you?” asked the queen gently. Her voice was neutral, camouflaging her doubt.

“He must be my true love! Or at least he’s the closest I’ve got. It’s my only hope.” Queen Elsa still seemed dubious. But then her expression hardened, and a determined glint shone in her eye.

“All right, then. Kristoff it is. Let’s go,” she commanded. This was a side of her he had not seen before. Something within her had shifted from passive to active, from fleeing to fighting. Hans was suddenly reminded that she was descended from the warrior kings of old, who had charged into battle at the head of their troops. She had been groomed to lead since birth. Maybe this was not such a drastic change. Through everything, she had not forgotten her first duty as queen: protecting her people and her sister with them. Even her flight had been to keep them safe.

“How are we going to explain this to the officials when we try to leave?” asked Hans. He doubted they would let him just waltz out of there with his captive and the princess. How could he tell them that Anna was dying from her sister’s ice, but it had all been an accident? And that they were going to find a magic cure from an iceman?

“We’re not,” said Queen Elsa. She closed her eyes in intense effort. The metal of her cuffs groaned, and Hans could see ice was beginning to cover them. Even under these circumstances, her power astonished him. With a final push, they popped open completely.

“I would have unlocked those for you, you know.” She gave him a look.

“No need.” She then turned her attention to the window. One icy blast was enough to obliterate the bars. They would easily be able to climb out onto the frozen fjord. Hans turned and picked up Anna. She was shivering, although no more of her hair had changed color. He tried to pick up the blanket as well, but the queen beat him to it. She wrapped it around her sister, tucking in the folds so no air could get in. Hans saw how careful she was to never touch bare skin. As they left, he had a last thought that he was going mad. Why was he abandoning all the plans he had made? Why was he still so eager to play the hero? But the queen beckoned him from outside, and he banished all doubt from his head.

When they were on the ice, Queen Elsa began to conjure a sleigh. Although its creation was almost instantaneous, it was still beautifully detailed. Hans marveled at the filigree trim and intricate rosemaling. Its runners were made of sharpened ice, and it was pulled by two white horses. The latter were what awed him the most. Although they had snowy bodies and ice for hooves, they appeared to be fully alive. He had not realized her powers could reach so far. But there was no time to stand around gaping. The queen was already in the driver’s seat.

“Keep her warm,” she ordered. Hans nodded and climbed in behind her, laying Anna down in as comfortable a position as he could given they were in a sleigh made of ice. At least the seat cushions were of a softer powder snow. The back of the sleigh was covered, and he soon saw why. Wind whipped around them as they started on their way. It was so cold he thought he might freeze solid. He ducked his head back inside the compartment, grateful for its meager warmth.

The sleigh raced across the ice. They were going faster than any steam train Hans had ridden back in the Southern Isles. The snow horses were supernaturally strong, exponentially more powerful than any real horse and incapable of fatigue. Queen Elsa directed them with ease and unwavering focus. The rest of her attention was diverted to creating an ice path beneath them, smoother than natural ice could ever be. The lack of friction allowed them to glide through the streets as if they were flying. Even the wind seemed to be pushing them further and faster. But as they scanned the city, there was no sign of Kristoff.

“He isn’t here!” called Queen Elsa. She continued on, but her voice was lost among the howling winds. Hans leaned toward the front of the sleigh, braving the cold in the hopes of hearing her better.

“What?” he yelled.

“Where does he live? Ask Anna!” Hans retreated to their snowy compartment. Anna was still conscious, but she seemed even weaker. He thought her hair was whiter than before. He grabbed her frigid hands, rubbing them in his own to warm them as he spoke.

“He’s not in the city. Your sister wants to know where he lives.”

“In the Valley of the Living Rock.” At his blank look, she added, “She’ll know. It was on the maps we used to study as children.” Her hands remained covered in frost. He thought of his gloves, lying forgotten on the dungeon cot, and wished he could give them to her now.

“Okay. We’ll get there.” He did his best to sound reassuring, but he had the distinct impression he had failed to hit the mark. Why must these things be so much harder when he was attempting to be genuine? He could be suave when playing a role, but he lacked the same polish when trying to be himself.

Leaning out the window, he shouted, “The Valley of the Living Rock!” The winds seemed even fiercer and louder as their speed increased.

“What?” He repeated himself and got the same response twice more. Finally, he climbed from the back of the sleigh to the driver’s seat. The wind threatened to push him back, but he persisted. He could see no other way to make himself heard.

The front of the sleigh was frigid. Clearly Queen Elsa had no need for any shelter from the cold and wind. She reached up and created a dome of ice surrounding them as he plopped into the seat next to her and slid forward onto the floor. Hans instantly felt warmer without the wind biting his exposed skin. He stood up and tucked his hands into his armpits.

“He lives in the Valley of the Living Rock.”

“Ah. It’s funny how things come back around. I know the way.” She spurred the horses to go even faster. Hans steeled himself for the journey back to the back compartment. He was not looking forward to facing the wind again. As he moved to go, she made a small noise.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you. Look down.” Hans stared out the window in wonder. They were practically flying, suspended over the treetops on a thin track of ice. Arendelle grew smaller below them. He stood entranced, barely noticing the chill of the dome as he leaned forward to get a better view. The queen alone could save him from inadvertently sticking his cheek to the ice. She hummed delicately.

“Come, sit with me.” And she patted the bench beside her. As he settled into his seat, she slid over to give him more room. The motion exposed her leg through the slit of her dress, but the touch of ice against her thigh did not seem to faze her. None of her skin showed any sign of frostbite, smooth and creamy despite the intense cold. A pale pink tint was the only hint that she was not carved from the surrounding snow and ice. Hans shook his head, realizing he had lapsed into staring at her leg. That was really not what he should be thinking about now of all times.

To distract himself, he asked, “Why is it called the Valley of the Living Rock?”

“I don’t know if you’d believe me if I told you.” He gave a dry laugh.

“Your Majesty, I’m flying through the sky in a sleigh made of ice next to a woman with snow powers so we can save the princess from freezing the death from the inside out with the power of love. I don’t think there are too many things that would stretch my belief at this point. Try me.”

“All right. It’s called that because it’s the home of the rock trolls. I’ve only been there once, a long time ago now. I was only a child.”

“Rock trolls, eh? There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio, than are dreamt of in your philosophy. We have a similar legend in the Southern Isles, although ours are distinctly malicious.” But the queen had grown serious beside him. She seemed lost in thought.

Finally, she said, “I struck Anna with my powers once before, when we were children. It was an accident when we were playing. I was too slow: I couldn’t catch her in time. The trolls were able to heal her, but they had to take her memories of my magic. So you see, I’ve never been any good to Anna. All I’ve ever done is hurt her.”

“You’re helping her now,” he pointed out.

“Am I? I don’t have much experience with love, but I think we both know it cannot flourish over just one day. Anna is the most loving person I’ve ever known, but sometimes that isn’t enough. I’m taking her to Kristoff because that’s the last hope we have. But it’s a very faint one. I have made my bed, and now I must lie in it.”

“Surely…” But his protests trailed off. He did not want to admit to himself that she was right. If there was no hope for people like Anna, whose only crime was naïveté, and Elsa, who cared so much, what hope was there for people like him? They were innocent victims of circumstance. What would become of real monsters like himself?

“Promise me, Prince Hans, that you will take care of Arendelle and my sister. Promise me that you will save them from their fate. Promise me that no matter what happens, you will do whatever is necessary to protect them.” No, no, no. He did not want to hear, did not want to understand.

“You know that I cannot save your sister. And I cannot end this winter.” But after all that had passed between them, he knew what she was going to say.

“You can, and you must. You alone have that power now.”

“Your Majesty, you cannot ask that of me.” How ironic it was that he had been fully prepared to kill her when he had thought she feared death, but when she asked for the same, he faltered.

“I ask because I know you’re a good man, Prince Hans. Perhaps the best I have ever known. I know you can be the hero to save Arendelle and Anna. I know I can trust you to do the right thing.” She looked up at him, and although her eyes were pleading, they were resolute. Then she reached out and placed one of her bare hands upon his. This was the first hand he had held without gloves in a long time, and he suspected the same was true for her. He was struck by the enormity of the gesture.

“Promise me,” she repeated, and Hans realized he was done for. He could not refuse her anything.

Curling his fingers up to clasp her hand, he said, “I promise.” Their eyes met, and Hans was overwhelmed by emotion.

“Queen Elsa, I—” But whatever unplanned sentiment he had been about to express was cut short when he heard hoofbeats in the snow. Looking down, he saw a large man and a reindeer heading down the mountain. This must be Kristoff.

He looked shocked when Queen Elsa set the sleigh down directly in front of him. Hans immediately climbed down from the front seat and went around to retrieve Anna from the back. Her breathing was labored, but she gave him a weak smile when he lifted her up. He turned to find Kristoff approaching the sleigh.

“Princess Anna! Queen Elsa! Is that you?” He stared at the sleigh in wonder.

“It is,” called Queen Elsa as she climbed down from her seat.

“Why are you here? Is this Prince Hans? What happened?”

“We need your help,” said the queen, “It’s Anna…”

“Please, Kristoff,” said Anna, “You have to kiss me.”

“I thought Prince Hans…?”

“That didn’t work out,” said Hans quickly, stepping closer to Kristoff so he could get to Anna. He could feel Kristoff sizing him up.

“It wasn’t true love after all. That’s why you have to kiss me. You’re my last hope!” Kristoff accepted Anna’s weight easily, cradling her against his chest. Hans was surprised at how gentle he was for such a massive man.

“Of course, I’ll do anything I can to help you. But are you sure I’m your true love?”

“You have to be,” Anna nearly whispered. Hans stepped back, torn between feeling like a voyeur and needing to know what was happening. Beside him, Queen Elsa wrung her hands together anxiously. He reached out toward her, and she took his hand with some hesitation. For a moment, everything was still.

Kristoff bent his head to meet Anna’s and she twined her frozen fingers through his hair. Hans felt Queen Elsa’s grip tighten in anticipation. The kiss seemed to play out in slow motion, sweet and gentle and unlike anything he had ever known. Was this how it felt to gaze upon true love? It almost hurt him to look at it. He could not tell if the scene was too tender for his eyes or if envy had clouded his vision.

Then it was over. Kristoff pulled back, and they all waited with bated breath. A second passed, and then another. Nothing seemed to be happening. Anna looked as frozen as ever. She alone could voice what they were all too afraid to say.

“It didn’t work.” As she spoke, the final strands of her hair turned white. Frost began creeping across her face. The queen’s hand grew colder in Hans’ palm, but he hardly felt it.

“I’m sorry, Anna,” said Kristoff, “Maybe if we tried again…?” But the princess shook her head.

“You have nothing to be sorry for, Kristoff. I guess some things aren’t meant to be.” She slumped against his shoulder.

“Don’t give up, Anna. It’s going to be all right. Everything is going to be all right.” The queen stepped forward.

“Elsa, it’s okay. You don’t have to lie to me. I don’t blame you for any of this. Please, just let me be near you when I go.” She reached out as if to touch her sister, but Elsa did not look at her.

“Kristoff, take her to the sleigh. Do your best to keep her warm.” He moved to protest, but one look from the queen silenced him. He turned and trudged toward the sleigh as if he carried an impossible weight. Hans could hear the princess’s muffled sobs, and he would not have been surprised if Kristoff’s were intermingled with them.

“We must act quickly,” said the queen. She knelt before him.

“There’s still time for you to run away,” he said desperately, “You could leave and take the winter with you.”

“It’s too late for that now. She’ll freeze before I can make it off the mountain. Hans, this is the only way. The ultimate sacrifice.” She stared up at him as though he were her last hope of salvation.

“Are you sure this will save her?”

“It has to.” Slowly he drew his sword. She turned her back to him and swept up her hair by magic, leaving her neck exposed. Her hands were clasped in front of her as though she were praying.

“Elsa, I— I’m sorry.”

“Remember your promise, Hans.”

Steeling himself, he raised his sword. This was the end. His arm felt heavy with crushing irony. What good had his reformation been if it were all to end up like this? The end result would still be the same: the princess frozen, the queen dead by his hand, and himself likely on the throne of Arendelle. He could do nothing to save them. He had been deluding himself that the die had not yet been cast. It had been cast long before he had sat in that frigid dungeon. Very possibly he had never held it at all. His choice did not matter. He was never meant to be the hero. As he swung down, he tried to look anywhere but at the white flesh of her throat. He knew with a fatal certainty that his aim would be true.

“No!” There was a cry and a flash in the corner of his vision. He pulled himself up short, his sword stopping within inches of Princess Anna. Only it was no longer Princess Anna, but a figure of crystalline ice, perfect in every detail. She had thrown herself in front of his sword, arm outstretched in a gesture of protection. It had been her dying act.

“Anna! Oh, Anna,” cried the queen. She stood to cradle her sister’s frozen face, pleading, “No, no! Please, no.” She threw her arms around Anna’s frozen body, sobbing openly. Hans realized that this was the closest contact he had ever seen her make with her sister. His promise weighed heavily on his mind. No, he would let Queen Elsa have these last few moments. It was the least he could do for her.

Everything was still. The only sound was Queen Elsa crying. Hans and Kristoff kept a solemn vigil. Time stretched on, none of them wanting to move on from the moment and confront the aftermath. But then something strange began to happen. Color began to return to Princess Anna, radiating out from her heart to her fingertips. She dropped her arm and sighed.

“Anna?” said Queen Elsa, looking happier than Hans had ever seen her. She stood and enveloped Anna in a tight embrace.

“Oh, Elsa,” replied her sister, returning the hug.

“You sacrificed yourself for me?” They clasped hands.

“I love you,” said Anna, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

“I love you, too.”

“This must be what the trolls meant,” said Kristoff, “An act of true love will thaw a frozen heart.”

“Love will thaw,” echoed Queen Elsa, and Hans could practically see the gears turning in her mind.

“Love,” she repeated and turned to Anna. As she spoke, snow began drifting upwards. She raised her arms, and the landscape was thawing. Green trees and grass emerged as if they had never been frozen. The sky turned blue as all the snow and ice coalesced into one snowflake. With a mighty push, the queen banished it into thin air.

“I knew you could do it,” said Anna. Hans noticed there was no longer a white streak in her hair.

After that, everything passed by in a blur. Their ride back to Arendelle was much faster without the detours of the search. Hans and Kristoff were relegated to driving while the sisters sat in the back. Hans assumed they wanted to catch up or hug or do whatever it was normal siblings who didn’t hate each other did. He and Kristoff made awkward small talk, mostly about the reindeer, who for some reason was sitting with them in the front seat. (His name was Sven, Hans found out. Kristoff liked to talk for him. But considering his own close relationship with Sitron, he was not one to judge.) When they reached the city, they were greeted by a cheering crowd. Evidently the people were more than willing to forgive Queen Elsa for the cold snap. Even the castle’s dour diplomats seemed happy at their return.

The next day, everything seemed right with the world. A happy crowd had gathered in the courtyard of the castle. Anna had presented Kristoff with a new sled and the title of Official Arendelle Ice Master. Hans thought they looked happy together. It may not have been true love, but it was certainly something. Queen Elsa had transformed overnight. She was joyful and confident, showing off her powers to her people’s great delight. When she created a giant ice rink in the courtyard, there was not an unhappy face among them.

Everything seemed perfect. Even Hans was happy. But he supposed he would never be able to escape the specter of what might have been. Among this joyous throng he felt out of place. A small voice in his head whispered that he had failed in his quest for power. He had sacrificed his only chance to matter to anyone, and for what? But then he looked up at the smiling queen and princess, happy together at last. And when he saw the queen’s eyes when she grabbed his hand and spun him across the ice, he knew he had his answer. For this.

***

Hello everyone! Surprisingly enough, I'm still alive. I thought I would post this as a bit of a Christmas treat. I've been sitting on it for the better part of a year.

There is also an epilogue, which will hopefully be posted one week from now, on New Year's Day. If I can get myself together, that is. My sincerest thanks for reading. I have been absent, but I've never stopped thinking about the kindness you've shown me and my work.

#apparently nothing new is showing in the tags at all as of jan 1st

[stupidsexyfandom]

Sinking 🌊

Some old drawing

It was 9 frames but I haven’t finished it and I think I won’t finish it, so it’s just 2 of it.

#yes #YES #YESSSS #this is what i like to see #hans

[stupidsexyfandom]

hidden truths.

Rated T • Read on AO3 | Fanfiction.net

Written for @helsaweenfun 2021, Week 3: Haunted & Week 4: The Other Side

Gifted with an ability to see and communicate with ghosts, Elsa unveiled some hidden truths about her husband’s family.

—

I'm super late, but I'm happy that I at least got 3/4 prompts done! Hope you enjoy it! ^^

#helsa #this fandom needs more fic about ghosts

[stupidsexyfandom]

Hans of the Southern Isles for dubstepsherlock <3

I was 99% sure i wouldn’t get his face right and woah, this is not exactly my favorite style of drawing buuuut i think he looks quite alright!

you can still send me requests. 

don’t steal, don’t repost, don’t claim as your own and don’t remove my watermark.

#hans

[stupidsexyfandom]

Just feel it, let em go.

#helsa #bro the raw emotion here #also unpopular opinion but i like elsa best with her hair up

[stupidsexyfandom]

deception

devotion

#helsa #i love this #the pacing #the way you drew the frost creeping over his face

[stupidsexyfandom]

Sure, elsa.

#helsa #hark! a vagrant #fandom hav edits will never stop being funny to me

[stupidsexyfandom]

I'm not as strong as I seem to be

Deep inside I feel so weak

I feel so weak when you're not here with me.

Fire and Ice, Blutengel

#helsa

[stupidsexyfandom]

Rubicon

Rated T // Angst with a happy ending, Canon Divergence AU, For want of a nail AU

After bringing the queen back to Arendelle, Hans sits with her in the dungeon and considers his next move.

Sequel to To Follow the Sun.

Happy holidays Helsa fandom!

Looking back, there were several times Hans should have realized he was in trouble. In the ice palace, he had been dazzled by both the ice magic and the queen herself. Shock and awe would have been permissible reactions, perhaps even the obvious ones. But his awe had stumbled a little too close towards reverence. He should have been more careful when he brought her back to Arendelle. How natural it had seemed at the time that he should carry her home personally. How comfortably she had seemed to fit in his arms. Remembering her look of terror as she faced the Duke’s men, it had been too easy to pity her. Poor Queen Elsa, he had found himself thinking, if only things could have been different. And slowly, without his conscious approval, that pity had morphed into a kind of sympathy. As they spoke of monsters in the dungeon, he had the feeling that he understood her.

Now, as he sat looking down at the sleeping queen, sympathy and reverence and understanding swirled about in his head. They threatened to combine into something unnamable, dangerous, and far too tender for a man like him to contemplate. If he had seen the warning signs, he would have known better than to hum her softly to sleep. If he had been paying attention, maybe he could have resisted the urge to stroke her hair. But he had never seen her so soft or so peaceful. Her hair seemed to glow even in the dim light of the dungeon. So he had slipped off his gloves and gently brushed the tendrils back from her forehead.

What if Anna never returns? whispered a traitorous voice in the back of his mind. It is better to be prepared for any possibility. But this was at best a flimsy justification and at worst a treacherous path to tread. He shoved the thought down with all the other foolish dreams he dared not articulate, even to himself.

He knew he should be out searching for the princess, or endearing himself to the people, or any number of other things that might be productive or useful. But when she had asked him to stay, he had found her impossible to refuse. There was something about her that entranced him. Perhaps it was the throne or the wonderous power she wielded. He did not wish to contemplate the alternative. He had even, for a moment, considered letting her go when she begged him to. But then where would he be? No queen, no princess, no thaw. No chance for his own kingdom. No chance to mean anything. Although it was not as though he was making any progress toward that goal presently.

In her sleep, she had stretched out so her head was lying in his lap. This was not the most comfortable position for Hans, but he could not bring himself to disturb her. All he could do was watch. Her expression held a serenity that was so different from her former rigid fear. It was almost beatific. Part of him wanted to remain there forever, soaking up that gentle radiance until it was a part of him. If he remained frozen in that moment, he could almost become part of the world that might have been. A world where he really was who he pretended to be, and where she had found it easy to love him. It would have been so much easier that way. So much less bloody.

He was sure he had convinced her at last of his wholesome persona. Or perhaps the people of Arendelle had done his work for him. He had been surprised by the strength of their response when he brought the queen back to the city, and he knew she could not have failed to notice. In a way, he felt more natural walking among the citizenry. There he could at least be honest. He would never have to betray them by the sword. The transition between Prince Hans, indispensable foreigner, and King Hans the Good, benevolent ruler of Arendelle, would be simple and bloodless on their end.

He knew he should have felt more satisfaction at the success of his lie. She truly thought that he was kind and brave and good and all those other things that princes were in fairy stories. She saw in him all those traits that came so easily to her. Despite all she knew and feared about the harsh cold of the world, she trusted him. He should have been glad. The queen’s trust would put him one step closer to achieving his goal. Finally, he would matter. But the rosy dawn of his approaching victory was marred by regret. Once upon a time, he too had thought he might be one of those heroic princes. Part of him still wished he could believe his own lies. But it was much too late for that now.

How funny it was that the queen had thought herself a monster. She was a force of nature unto herself, no more a monster than a lightning strike or a wave upon the sea. There was nothing monstrous about acting out of instinct, acting out of terror. She had spent her whole life learning to be afraid of herself. And despite her fear, she cared so much for her sister and for her people. There was nothing monstrous about that. No, Hans knew better. To be a monster was to coldly devise a plan and then act on it, no matter the cost. To be a monster was not to care at all. Although he may have been damned either way. Here in the dungeon, he was coming dangerously close to something like caring.

His reverie was rudely interrupted by the opening of the cell door. A guard rushed in before Hans even had time to react, his eyes widening as he took in the queen’s sleeping form. But clearly his message outweighed any shock he may have felt.

“Princess Anna has returned! She’s asking to see you. Something’s happened.” Hans was not sure whether he should cheer or curse. The princess’s return marked his impending victory. It meant he could proceed with his plan to reach the throne. But it also spelled the end of this paradoxical moment, where he felt he could suspend his choice and be at once hero and schemer. The die had been cast. His mind leapt into action even as he sluggishly moved to wake the queen. If the princess had made it back to the castle alive, what could possibly have happened? He needed more information to plan his next move. If he could just speak to her alone… One thing was certain. He could not let her see him like this.

“Take her to the library. I will meet her—” But any plans he could have made rushed right out the window, for Princess Anna came barreling through the door. She hardly seemed to notice his position with the queen, which had become less compromising only in that he had removed his hand from her hair. He noticed the princess seemed covered in snow and ice, as if she had been out in the elements for too long. Even her hair was white with it.

“Hans, you have to kiss me!”

“What?” said Hans and Queen Elsa in unison. She sat up like a shot, her chains rattling at the motion. Anna seemed to regard her sister for the first time.

“Elsa, how did you get here? What have they done to you? Oh, you can tell me later. We don’t have time!”

“What happened?” Hans stood and reached out toward Anna. She clung to him desperately. He could feel how cold her hands were even through the layers of his clothes. She seemed hardly able to support her own weight.

“Elsa struck me with her powers.”

“No!” Queen Elsa’s anguished cry cut off any response he could have made. Wind and snow began to whip around the tiny cell, although her hands remained encased in iron. She strained at the limits of her bindings, trying to reach Anna.

“It froze my heart, and only an act of true love can save me.” She staggered, and Hans lifted her up and carried her to the cot in the corner. Queen Elsa was instantly at her side, standing with her arms wrapped tightly around herself.

“I’m so sorry, Anna. I never meant for any of this to happen. I never meant to hurt you. Please, I’ll do anything I can to fix this,” said the queen. Hans could hear that she was on the verge of tears.

“You didn’t? I mean, I know you didn’t. But don’t worry, all I need is an act of true love, and everything will be all right.” Despite her weakness, Anna’s voice was tinged with her characteristic optimism. The snow hung suspended in the air.

“A true love’s kiss,” said Hans slowly. This was troublesome. He knew his kiss could not cure her. How could he continue his ruse after that failure? He doubted she would want to marry him if it wasn’t true love. But then a plan flashed into his mind, greater and more devious than any he had made before. He could be rid of both of them in one fell swoop. Let the princess die and blame the queen, clearing his path to the throne. This was the chance he had waiting for and better luck than he could have possibly dreamed. The risks were high, but so were the rewards.

“Don’t you think we should get some privacy?” he asked. All he needed to do was get the princess alone. He could have no witnesses, not even the captive queen. But things were never that easy.

“There’s no time for that! Please, it has to be now!” Queen Elsa stood aside so he could be closer to Anna. He could see no other way out. So this was how it would end. As he knelt beside her, he felt of sudden wave of anger. Of course she had run off impulsively and gotten herself into this mess. Of course her cure would have to be the one thing that would expose his deceit. He wanted to say something cruel, to twist the knife in the best way he knew how. Resentment threatened to overwhelm him.

Making a final attempt to stall, he said, “I really don’t think—” But his protestations were cut off when the princess abruptly slammed her face against his own. Her lips landed half on his mouth and half on his cheek, dry and cold as ice. It took him a fraction of a second too long to school his shocked face into a more neutral expression. Then, just as quickly, she pulled away.

“Oh,” she said softly. He did not have to look at her to know it had not worked. “I guess it has to go the other way. Maybe you have to kiss me.” His heart sank.

He could feel the queen’s eyes on him. How much had she seen? If only he had not stayed with her for so long, he could have been home free. He could have seen the princess privately and broken her heart without consequence. He could have been as ruthless as he needed to be to wear the crown. His moment of weakness had cost him everything. Had the brief illusion of goodness been worth it?

The realization hit him with the pain and immediacy of a lightning strike: it might have been. Everything else seemed to crumble away. For those few minutes, he had not been the unwanted thirteenth prince. He had not been the romantic stand-in in someone else’s fairytale. He had not even been the archetypal hero destined to save the frozen city. He had just been a good man who cared.

Perhaps this was not the ruin he had feared. Perhaps this was fate giving him a second chance, an opportunity to be the man Queen Elsa thought he was. The idea filled him with a strange feeling that could have been either euphoria or madness. He had been wrong. The die had not been cast yet, after all. The choice was his to make.

But his newfound resolution toward goodness was not enough to extricate him from his current predicament. The princess was still expecting him to kiss her. He could talk himself into being kind, but he could not talk himself into true love. There were not too many other options. Perhaps he could go through with it and pretend to be surprised when it produced no result. No, he would not prolong her suffering by lying to her. If he could not save her, at least he would not give her false hope. That left him with only one solution. He would come clean and hope for a small chance at forgiveness.

“Anna,” he began. Christ, he was really doing this. He took a deep breath and continued, “What if this isn’t true love?” The temperature dropped sharply, and he heard Queen Elsa give a muffled gasp.

“You… don’t love me?” Anna looked so hurt that he wished he had said something cruel to her, if only to put her out of her misery a little faster. Before his very eyes, another chunk of her hair turned white.

“It’s not that,” he said, even though it very much was, “It’s just, well, we’ve only just met. We only spent a few hours together. What if we both got caught up in the atmosphere? I saw in you the chance for love, recognition, power. Everything I ever wanted. It all seemed too good to be true; maybe I deluded myself into thinking it was. But it’s not a question of loving you so much as knowing you.”

There was more truth in this than Hans would previously have admitted to himself. His chance meeting with her at the docks had seemed like something out of a fairytale, and the glamorous coronation ball had only served to heighten the illusion. He may not have believed in true love, but he had briefly entertained the childish notion that they could have been happy together. How lucky he would have been if his ambitions and his heart were so compatible. But he had come back down to earth quickly. The princess was clumsy and naïve, impulsive to a fault. Quirks which he had found charming at first descended into irritations. But, for all her silliness, she did not deserve this.

“I’m sorry, Anna,” he added, making his best attempt at sincerity. He could tell from her face that his words were cold comfort. Suddenly, she pitched forward, throwing her arms around him. It took him several seconds to realize that she was not in the throes of some frozen death seizure but was merely sobbing onto his shoulder. He awkwardly wrapped his arm around her in return, patting her gently on the back.

When Anna at last looked up at him, she said tearfully, “I’m sorry too, Hans. I should have known better.” He was not going to tell her that yes, she really should have.

“It’s not your fault, Anna,” said Queen Elsa. She hovered anxiously on the periphery. Hans saw the way she hesitated to get too near to Anna.

“Yes, it is. Kristoff knew right away that it couldn’t be true love. If he could tell, why couldn’t I?”

“Who’s Kristoff?” The queen and Hans spoke at the same time, sounding equally suspicious.

“Didn’t I say? He’s an ice harvester. He has a reindeer. He’s the one who took me to the ice palace, and he brought me here safely. I should have listened to him, but I was foolish. I’ve been foolish this whole time. I’m the one who got us into this mess.”

“You mustn’t blame yourself,” said the queen, “If anyone is at fault here, it’s me.”

“Don’t say that!” Anna reached out for her sister, but she shied away. Anna’s face fell.

Perhaps trying to deflect, Queen Elsa said, “What do we do now? There has to be some other way.”

“I don’t know,” said Anna dejectedly, “I don’t know how to find my true love, or if I even have one. Unless… Kristoff!” Hans caught the queen’s eye. He could tell they were thinking the same thing: hadn’t they only just met? Why should this time be any different?

“Do you think he can help you?” asked the queen gently. Her voice was neutral, camouflaging her doubt.

“He must be my true love! Or at least he’s the closest I’ve got. It’s my only hope.” Queen Elsa still seemed dubious. But then her expression hardened, and a determined glint shone in her eye.

“All right, then. Kristoff it is. Let’s go,” she commanded. This was a side of her he had not seen before. Something within her had shifted from passive to active, from fleeing to fighting. Hans was suddenly reminded that she was descended from the warrior kings of old, who had charged into battle at the head of their troops. She had been groomed to lead since birth. Maybe this was not such a drastic change. Through everything, she had not forgotten her first duty as queen: protecting her people and her sister with them. Even her flight had been to keep them safe.

“How are we going to explain this to the officials when we try to leave?” asked Hans. He doubted they would let him just waltz out of there with his captive and the princess. How could he tell them that Anna was dying from her sister’s ice, but it had all been an accident? And that they were going to find a magic cure from an iceman?

“We’re not,” said Queen Elsa. She closed her eyes in intense effort. The metal of her cuffs groaned, and Hans could see ice was beginning to cover them. Even under these circumstances, her power astonished him. With a final push, they popped open completely.

“I would have unlocked those for you, you know.” She gave him a look.

“No need.” She then turned her attention to the window. One icy blast was enough to obliterate the bars. They would easily be able to climb out onto the frozen fjord. Hans turned and picked up Anna. She was shivering, although no more of her hair had changed color. He tried to pick up the blanket as well, but the queen beat him to it. She wrapped it around her sister, tucking in the folds so no air could get in. Hans saw how careful she was to never touch bare skin. As they left, he had a last thought that he was going mad. Why was he abandoning all the plans he had made? Why was he still so eager to play the hero? But the queen beckoned him from outside, and he banished all doubt from his head.

When they were on the ice, Queen Elsa began to conjure a sleigh. Although its creation was almost instantaneous, it was still beautifully detailed. Hans marveled at the filigree trim and intricate rosemaling. Its runners were made of sharpened ice, and it was pulled by two white horses. The latter were what awed him the most. Although they had snowy bodies and ice for hooves, they appeared to be fully alive. He had not realized her powers could reach so far. But there was no time to stand around gaping. The queen was already in the driver’s seat.

“Keep her warm,” she ordered. Hans nodded and climbed in behind her, laying Anna down in as comfortable a position as he could given they were in a sleigh made of ice. At least the seat cushions were of a softer powder snow. The back of the sleigh was covered, and he soon saw why. Wind whipped around them as they started on their way. It was so cold he thought he might freeze solid. He ducked his head back inside the compartment, grateful for its meager warmth.

The sleigh raced across the ice. They were going faster than any steam train Hans had ridden back in the Southern Isles. The snow horses were supernaturally strong, exponentially more powerful than any real horse and incapable of fatigue. Queen Elsa directed them with ease and unwavering focus. The rest of her attention was diverted to creating an ice path beneath them, smoother than natural ice could ever be. The lack of friction allowed them to glide through the streets as if they were flying. Even the wind seemed to be pushing them further and faster. But as they scanned the city, there was no sign of Kristoff.

“He isn’t here!” called Queen Elsa. She continued on, but her voice was lost among the howling winds. Hans leaned toward the front of the sleigh, braving the cold in the hopes of hearing her better.

“What?” he yelled.

“Where does he live? Ask Anna!” Hans retreated to their snowy compartment. Anna was still conscious, but she seemed even weaker. He thought her hair was whiter than before. He grabbed her frigid hands, rubbing them in his own to warm them as he spoke.

“He’s not in the city. Your sister wants to know where he lives.”

“In the Valley of the Living Rock.” At his blank look, she added, “She’ll know. It was on the maps we used to study as children.” Her hands remained covered in frost. He thought of his gloves, lying forgotten on the dungeon cot, and wished he could give them to her now.

“Okay. We’ll get there.” He did his best to sound reassuring, but he had the distinct impression he had failed to hit the mark. Why must these things be so much harder when he was attempting to be genuine? He could be suave when playing a role, but he lacked the same polish when trying to be himself.

Leaning out the window, he shouted, “The Valley of the Living Rock!” The winds seemed even fiercer and louder as their speed increased.

“What?” He repeated himself and got the same response twice more. Finally, he climbed from the back of the sleigh to the driver’s seat. The wind threatened to push him back, but he persisted. He could see no other way to make himself heard.

The front of the sleigh was frigid. Clearly Queen Elsa had no need for any shelter from the cold and wind. She reached up and created a dome of ice surrounding them as he plopped into the seat next to her and slid forward onto the floor. Hans instantly felt warmer without the wind biting his exposed skin. He stood up and tucked his hands into his armpits.

“He lives in the Valley of the Living Rock.”

“Ah. It’s funny how things come back around. I know the way.” She spurred the horses to go even faster. Hans steeled himself for the journey back to the back compartment. He was not looking forward to facing the wind again. As he moved to go, she made a small noise.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you. Look down.” Hans stared out the window in wonder. They were practically flying, suspended over the treetops on a thin track of ice. Arendelle grew smaller below them. He stood entranced, barely noticing the chill of the dome as he leaned forward to get a better view. The queen alone could save him from inadvertently sticking his cheek to the ice. She hummed delicately.

“Come, sit with me.” And she patted the bench beside her. As he settled into his seat, she slid over to give him more room. The motion exposed her leg through the slit of her dress, but the touch of ice against her thigh did not seem to faze her. None of her skin showed any sign of frostbite, smooth and creamy despite the intense cold. A pale pink tint was the only hint that she was not carved from the surrounding snow and ice. Hans shook his head, realizing he had lapsed into staring at her leg. That was really not what he should be thinking about now of all times.

To distract himself, he asked, “Why is it called the Valley of the Living Rock?”

“I don’t know if you’d believe me if I told you.” He gave a dry laugh.

“Your Majesty, I’m flying through the sky in a sleigh made of ice next to a woman with snow powers so we can save the princess from freezing the death from the inside out with the power of love. I don’t think there are too many things that would stretch my belief at this point. Try me.”

“All right. It’s called that because it’s the home of the rock trolls. I’ve only been there once, a long time ago now. I was only a child.”

“Rock trolls, eh? There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio, than are dreamt of in your philosophy. We have a similar legend in the Southern Isles, although ours are distinctly malicious.” But the queen had grown serious beside him. She seemed lost in thought.

Finally, she said, “I struck Anna with my powers once before, when we were children. It was an accident when we were playing. I was too slow: I couldn’t catch her in time. The trolls were able to heal her, but they had to take her memories of my magic. So you see, I’ve never been any good to Anna. All I’ve ever done is hurt her.”

“You’re helping her now,” he pointed out.

“Am I? I don’t have much experience with love, but I think we both know it cannot flourish over just one day. Anna is the most loving person I’ve ever known, but sometimes that isn’t enough. I’m taking her to Kristoff because that’s the last hope we have. But it’s a very faint one. I have made my bed, and now I must lie in it.”

“Surely…” But his protests trailed off. He did not want to admit to himself that she was right. If there was no hope for people like Anna, whose only crime was naïveté, and Elsa, who cared so much, what hope was there for people like him? They were innocent victims of circumstance. What would become of real monsters like himself?

“Promise me, Prince Hans, that you will take care of Arendelle and my sister. Promise me that you will save them from their fate. Promise me that no matter what happens, you will do whatever is necessary to protect them.” No, no, no. He did not want to hear, did not want to understand.

“You know that I cannot save your sister. And I cannot end this winter.” But after all that had passed between them, he knew what she was going to say.

“You can, and you must. You alone have that power now.”

“Your Majesty, you cannot ask that of me.” How ironic it was that he had been fully prepared to kill her when he had thought she feared death, but when she asked for the same, he faltered.

“I ask because I know you’re a good man, Prince Hans. Perhaps the best I have ever known. I know you can be the hero to save Arendelle and Anna. I know I can trust you to do the right thing.” She looked up at him, and although her eyes were pleading, they were resolute. Then she reached out and placed one of her bare hands upon his. This was the first hand he had held without gloves in a long time, and he suspected the same was true for her. He was struck by the enormity of the gesture.

“Promise me,” she repeated, and Hans realized he was done for. He could not refuse her anything.

Curling his fingers up to clasp her hand, he said, “I promise.” Their eyes met, and Hans was overwhelmed by emotion.

“Queen Elsa, I—” But whatever unplanned sentiment he had been about to express was cut short when he heard hoofbeats in the snow. Looking down, he saw a large man and a reindeer heading down the mountain. This must be Kristoff.

He looked shocked when Queen Elsa set the sleigh down directly in front of him. Hans immediately climbed down from the front seat and went around to retrieve Anna from the back. Her breathing was labored, but she gave him a weak smile when he lifted her up. He turned to find Kristoff approaching the sleigh.

“Princess Anna! Queen Elsa! Is that you?” He stared at the sleigh in wonder.

“It is,” called Queen Elsa as she climbed down from her seat.

“Why are you here? Is this Prince Hans? What happened?”

“We need your help,” said the queen, “It’s Anna…”

“Please, Kristoff,” said Anna, “You have to kiss me.”

“I thought Prince Hans…?”

“That didn’t work out,” said Hans quickly, stepping closer to Kristoff so he could get to Anna. He could feel Kristoff sizing him up.

“It wasn’t true love after all. That’s why you have to kiss me. You’re my last hope!” Kristoff accepted Anna’s weight easily, cradling her against his chest. Hans was surprised at how gentle he was for such a massive man.

“Of course, I’ll do anything I can to help you. But are you sure I’m your true love?”

“You have to be,” Anna nearly whispered. Hans stepped back, torn between feeling like a voyeur and needing to know what was happening. Beside him, Queen Elsa wrung her hands together anxiously. He reached out toward her, and she took his hand with some hesitation. For a moment, everything was still.

Kristoff bent his head to meet Anna’s and she twined her frozen fingers through his hair. Hans felt Queen Elsa’s grip tighten in anticipation. The kiss seemed to play out in slow motion, sweet and gentle and unlike anything he had ever known. Was this how it felt to gaze upon true love? It almost hurt him to look at it. He could not tell if the scene was too tender for his eyes or if envy had clouded his vision.

Then it was over. Kristoff pulled back, and they all waited with bated breath. A second passed, and then another. Nothing seemed to be happening. Anna looked as frozen as ever. She alone could voice what they were all too afraid to say.

“It didn’t work.” As she spoke, the final strands of her hair turned white. Frost began creeping across her face. The queen’s hand grew colder in Hans’ palm, but he hardly felt it.

“I’m sorry, Anna,” said Kristoff, “Maybe if we tried again…?” But the princess shook her head.

“You have nothing to be sorry for, Kristoff. I guess some things aren’t meant to be.” She slumped against his shoulder.

“Don’t give up, Anna. It’s going to be all right. Everything is going to be all right.” The queen stepped forward.

“Elsa, it’s okay. You don’t have to lie to me. I don’t blame you for any of this. Please, just let me be near you when I go.” She reached out as if to touch her sister, but Elsa did not look at her.

“Kristoff, take her to the sleigh. Do your best to keep her warm.” He moved to protest, but one look from the queen silenced him. He turned and trudged toward the sleigh as if he carried an impossible weight. Hans could hear the princess’s muffled sobs, and he would not have been surprised if Kristoff’s were intermingled with them.

“We must act quickly,” said the queen. She knelt before him.

“There’s still time for you to run away,” he said desperately, “You could leave and take the winter with you.”

“It’s too late for that now. She’ll freeze before I can make it off the mountain. Hans, this is the only way. The ultimate sacrifice.” She stared up at him as though he were her last hope of salvation.

“Are you sure this will save her?”

“It has to.” Slowly he drew his sword. She turned her back to him and swept up her hair by magic, leaving her neck exposed. Her hands were clasped in front of her as though she were praying.

“Elsa, I— I’m sorry.”

“Remember your promise, Hans.”

Steeling himself, he raised his sword. This was the end. His arm felt heavy with crushing irony. What good had his reformation been if it were all to end up like this? The end result would still be the same: the princess frozen, the queen dead by his hand, and himself likely on the throne of Arendelle. He could do nothing to save them. He had been deluding himself that the die had not yet been cast. It had been cast long before he had sat in that frigid dungeon. Very possibly he had never held it at all. His choice did not matter. He was never meant to be the hero. As he swung down, he tried to look anywhere but at the white flesh of her throat. He knew with a fatal certainty that his aim would be true.

“No!” There was a cry and a flash in the corner of his vision. He pulled himself up short, his sword stopping within inches of Princess Anna. Only it was no longer Princess Anna, but a figure of crystalline ice, perfect in every detail. She had thrown herself in front of his sword, arm outstretched in a gesture of protection. It had been her dying act.

“Anna! Oh, Anna,” cried the queen. She stood to cradle her sister’s frozen face, pleading, “No, no! Please, no.” She threw her arms around Anna’s frozen body, sobbing openly. Hans realized that this was the closest contact he had ever seen her make with her sister. His promise weighed heavily on his mind. No, he would let Queen Elsa have these last few moments. It was the least he could do for her.

Everything was still. The only sound was Queen Elsa crying. Hans and Kristoff kept a solemn vigil. Time stretched on, none of them wanting to move on from the moment and confront the aftermath. But then something strange began to happen. Color began to return to Princess Anna, radiating out from her heart to her fingertips. She dropped her arm and sighed.

“Anna?” said Queen Elsa, looking happier than Hans had ever seen her. She stood and enveloped Anna in a tight embrace.

“Oh, Elsa,” replied her sister, returning the hug.

“You sacrificed yourself for me?” They clasped hands.

“I love you,” said Anna, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

“I love you, too.”

“This must be what the trolls meant,” said Kristoff, “An act of true love will thaw a frozen heart.”

“Love will thaw,” echoed Queen Elsa, and Hans could practically see the gears turning in her mind.

“Love,” she repeated and turned to Anna. As she spoke, snow began drifting upwards. She raised her arms, and the landscape was thawing. Green trees and grass emerged as if they had never been frozen. The sky turned blue as all the snow and ice coalesced into one snowflake. With a mighty push, the queen banished it into thin air.

“I knew you could do it,” said Anna. Hans noticed there was no longer a white streak in her hair.

After that, everything passed by in a blur. Their ride back to Arendelle was much faster without the detours of the search. Hans and Kristoff were relegated to driving while the sisters sat in the back. Hans assumed they wanted to catch up or hug or do whatever it was normal siblings who didn’t hate each other did. He and Kristoff made awkward small talk, mostly about the reindeer, who for some reason was sitting with them in the front seat. (His name was Sven, Hans found out. Kristoff liked to talk for him. But considering his own close relationship with Sitron, he was not one to judge.) When they reached the city, they were greeted by a cheering crowd. Evidently the people were more than willing to forgive Queen Elsa for the cold snap. Even the castle’s dour diplomats seemed happy at their return.

The next day, everything seemed right with the world. A happy crowd had gathered in the courtyard of the castle. Anna had presented Kristoff with a new sled and the title of Official Arendelle Ice Master. Hans thought they looked happy together. It may not have been true love, but it was certainly something. Queen Elsa had transformed overnight. She was joyful and confident, showing off her powers to her people’s great delight. When she created a giant ice rink in the courtyard, there was not an unhappy face among them.

Everything seemed perfect. Even Hans was happy. But he supposed he would never be able to escape the specter of what might have been. Among this joyous throng he felt out of place. A small voice in his head whispered that he had failed in his quest for power. He had sacrificed his only chance to matter to anyone, and for what? But then he looked up at the smiling queen and princess, happy together at last. And when he saw the queen’s eyes when she grabbed his hand and spun him across the ice, he knew he had his answer. For this.

***

Hello everyone! Surprisingly enough, I'm still alive. I thought I would post this as a bit of a Christmas treat. I've been sitting on it for the better part of a year.

There is also an epilogue, which will hopefully be posted one week from now, on New Year's Day. If I can get myself together, that is. My sincerest thanks for reading. I have been absent, but I've never stopped thinking about the kindness you've shown me and my work.

#helsa #frozen #hans #elsa #fanfic #mentions of hanna #mentions of kristanna

[stupidsexyfandom]

Now YouTube has a habit of recommending me the weirdest stuff recently, but today i got this on my recommendations

And about halfway through listening to this, I went and read the comments, literally I could not stop reading I was there for hours, here are some of my favorites

#helsa

[stupidsexyfandom]

Sed Libera Nos A Malo

@helsa-summer-event

Rated T // Drama, Medieval AU

Brother Hans finds something suspicious about the abbey’s newest novice. 

Written for Prompt #6 of Helsa Summer: Letting off steam.

They were in the midst of the coldest winter anyone could remember. There were whispers in the village that this was Queen Elsa’s doing. Perhaps, angry at being driven from her home, she had laid a curse on the land. This speculation was frowned upon inside the abbey. There they condemned talk of magic as heresy. If there was anything unnatural about this winter, they said, it was a sign from God. A sign of what, they did not say.

Hans did not hold these murmurings in high regard. Magic was the stuff of myths and fairy stories, and he very much doubted that one girl held the power to plunge the country into a deep freeze. At this point, he doubted whether Queen Elsa was even still alive. He knew her parents had been slaughtered early in this conflict when his father, King Harald of the Southern Isles, had decided that Arendelle rightfully belonged to him. She had been hastily crowned, but she and her sister had disappeared soon afterward. Her supporters claimed the queen and princess had fled to Corona to gather an army, but Hans was not so sure. The Southern Isles’ attempted invasion was not popular among the Arendellian nobles, and he suspected their cause needed a figurehead.

He held the Church’s explanation in equally low esteem, despite being destined to take holy orders himself. The Church had thrown their weight behind King Harald’s claim to the throne, likely persuaded by the Southern Isles’ ample coffers. If this frigid weather were a sign of anything (although he was sure it was not), it might be God indicating that they had backed the wrong side.

But Hans had not come to the abbey because he felt called to God. His father had followed the cardinal rule of succession: an heir for the crown and a spare for the priesthood. But then there had been another spare and then another. Soon, the king had thirteen sons, each competing for wealth and influence. Several had climbed their way through the Church’s ranks, and several others had been promised lands throughout the Southern Isles and Arendelle. Hans was the last, and it was decided that he was not worthy of becoming a bishop or cardinal, or even a priest. He was relegated to being a simple monk.

Not even a full monk, at that, he thought with only a tinge of bitterness. He was still only a novice, and he thought it would be a long time before he took his final vows. For now, he was at the bottom of the pecking order, just as he had been at home. At least his position assisting the herbalist gave him a measure of freedom not accorded to the other novices. The work was varied and stimulating, and his superior, though a keen man, was not as strict as some of the other brothers. This left Hans able to move around the abbey with some degree of autonomy.

He knew the true reason his father had sent him to a monastery in Arendelle, aside from wanting to be rid of him. The king’s forces were moving through the country, laying siege to any towns which would not submit. But opposition was fierce, and the people had fought back with tooth and nail at every opportunity. The Southern Isles’ progress had been slower than King Harald would like to admit. Hans was not considered good enough for a place at court, but he could certainly feed the king information from behind enemy lines. He had not yet been called upon, but he knew the day would come. He did not relish the prospect. After all, what loyalty did he owe his father?

So he toiled away behind the monastery walls day after day. After so much time, he had become used to the routine of prayer and solitude. It was almost enough to make him a believer. Although it was not the life he would have chosen, he had accepted the path that was his to walk. Perhaps, if he were lucky, he would someday reach the rank of prior, or even abbot.

This morning was colder than most. Hans stood in the abbey stable, breaking the ice so the horses could have fresh water. He had always had a way with horses, and he was lucky that his tasks allowed him to work with them. Some of the other novices were being loudly berated in the courtyard. Not only had they spoken out of turn, but they had been gossiping about the Snow Queen, as she was called in the village. Hans was grateful to be hidden inside a stall. He was certain their odious superior would have found a way to include him in the punishment, despite his innocence in the matter. The loathing he harbored for that man was deeply un-Christian.

His musings on whether murder was really a sin if the victim was extremely annoying were interrupted by the sound of hoofbeats. The novices and their lecturer scattered as Hans peered into the courtyard. Two horses burst into the courtyard, a black stallion of nearly eighteen hands, and a smaller gray that looked to have Arabian blood. A man dismounted from the first and a smaller figure, either a youth or a woman, from the second. The prior came out to meet them. He did not look happy to see them, but then again, he always looked like that. Hans could not hear what they were saying. When he heard footsteps approaching the stable, he hastened to look busy. But only the prior appeared.

“Brother Hans, are you in there?” Hans stepped out of the stall. The prior beckoned, and Hans followed him out into the courtyard. He was eager to get a closer look at such fine animals, even if it meant stepping out into the cold. The man had already started toward the abbey doors, but the other rider stood holding the horses. Ah, so it was a youth.

“Elias, this is Brother Hans,” said the prior, “He is one of your fellow novices.” Hans nodded in acknowledgement, appraising his new brother. Elias was extremely slight, with fair hair and round blue eyes. His face had not yet lost any of the softness of childhood. He seemed on edge despite the safety of the abbey. There was something off about him that Hans could not place.

“Brother Hans, take these horses to the stable and see that they are fed and watered. Boy, come with me.”

“Right away, Brother Prior,” said Hans, taking the reins. His attention immediately shifted to his new task. The horses must be tired and in need of hay. He could tell that they must have galloped a great distance from the way the steam rose from their sweaty flanks. That was it! As he walked toward the stables, he exhaled softly to test his theory. Steam rose from his lips into the chilly air.

He turned back to look at the abbey doors where the prior, Elias, and the other man were preparing to enter. Sure enough, the man and the prior both breathed out condensation when they spoke. But the air in front of Elias was perfectly clear. His lips emitted no such steam.

-

Over the next several weeks, Hans began to forget his strange realization. Elias seemed to integrate into monastic life easily. There still seemed something odd about him, but spending so much time together had made his quirks part of the status quo. He was quiet and easily startled, but he was also a hard worker who never caused trouble. He did nothing else to call attention to himself.

Hans had been seeing a lot of him because he was also assigned to work under the monastery’s herbalist. The unusually cold winter had brought with it famine and disease. The infirmary was full to capacity, creating more work than two people could handle. They were grateful for the extra set of hands. Brother Elias applied himself to the work with zeal. He seemed to have a particular talent for soothing fevered patients. Hans began to think himself silly for having any doubts about his fellow novice.

But a chance incident brought all his doubts, and many new ones, roaring back with a vengeance. The herbalist was away for several days tending to a patient far from the abbey. Hans and Brother Elias were managing well enough to distribute balms and poultices to their regular patients. Although they lacked expertise, they were both quick studies and worked well together.

Hans had been working in the infirmary when he had realized they were running low on a few supplies. He decided to walk down to the herbalist’s shed to replenish them. He opened the door without knocking, assuming nobody to be inside. Then came the sound of shattering glass. Looking inside, he saw Brother Elias kneeling on the floor, attempting to pick up shards of a vial. In his characteristic jumpiness, he had smashed the bottle in his hand when the door had opened unexpectedly. The mess was awful, but Hans was more concerned about the blood streaming from his palm.

“Leave it,” he said, picking his way across the floor to avoid the broken glass, “Let me have a look at that hand.” Brother Elias ignored the directive, continuing his vain efforts to clear up the mess.

“Don’t worry, it’s not that bad. I can take care of it myself.” But Hans could see that the cut ran deep. He knew a wound like that could cause serious trouble if left unattended. Men had survived worse, but they had also died from much less.

“Not with one hand you can’t. It’s too deep.”

“Really, I’m fine.” Hans carefully crouched down. He could not understand why Brother Elias was so intent on refusing his help. But as he watched, he could see the boy was growing frustrated. Finally, he presented his hand for Hans to examine.

Hans gave no outward sign that anything was amiss when he took Brother Elias’s hand. He cleaned and treated the wound with as much care and attention as he would give any patient. But in the back of his mind, he felt something was very wrong. Brother Elias’s flesh was completely frozen. This went beyond the feeling of someone who had been out in the elements for hours. This was the chill of death.

That night at Compline, Hans prayed. This should not have been unusual, for all the monks spent several hours a day in prayer. But this night was unique for Hans in that he meant it. He knew not what he had stumbled upon, but he had to hope God would protect and guide him through it. In stories, demons were always red hot like the fire and brimstone whence they came. But what if that was wrong? What if, in order to withstand the licking flames of hellfire, demons were cold as ice?

Hans thought of reporting what he had seen, but the idea was unappealing. In truth, he found the monk who oversaw the novices so obnoxious that he would rather risk his immortal soul than talk to him unnecessarily. He wished desperately that his mentor were there. He knew the herbalist would have known what to do. But he was away from the abbey and would be for several days yet. Hans did not know if this would keep until then.

He could barely focus on his work in the infirmary the next day. His mind raced with thoughts of angels and demons, each twisting into the other until he could no longer tell them apart. He paid only the slightest attention when a fevered patient was brought in. There had been many cases like his in this hellish winter, and Hans set about mixing the preparation the herbalist had found was most effective. Brother Elias sat at the side of the fevered man, soothing him through his delirium.

As he watched, Brother Elias put one hand on the ill man’s forehead and the other at his neck. His fevered thrashing stilled, and he seemed almost at peace. Hans thought back to holding that hand in his own, cold and corpse-like and covered in blood. How unnatural the cold had felt then. But here, it had been a tool of salvation, bringing down the man’s body temperature. Would a demon use its unholy power to save lives? He very much doubted it. He found he could no longer stomach the idea of giving Brother Elias up to the authorities. Perhaps he would continue on as normal until the herbalist returned. He knew the older man would come up with a plan as kind as it was wise.

It turned out there was no need to wait for his mentor’s return. All would be revealed well before then.

Hans and Brother Elias were spending the night working in the shed, distilling herbs over a flame that must burn for countless hours. Exempt from Matins for the night because of their work, they had decided to sleep in shifts. Hans was surprised by how easy it was to go on working together as if nothing had happened. He had volunteered to take the first watch, tending to the fire while Brother Elias slept on the straw palette.

At first, all was well. Brother Elias retired, and Hans sat staring idly into the flames. Eventually he had trouble keeping his eyes open, slipping into a stupor. He only became alert when he felt something cold touch his face. Then for a moment he thought he must be dreaming. Snow seemed to be falling inside the herbalist’s shed.  He turned to see Brother Elias thrashing in his sleep, caught in the throes of some nightmare. Hans attempted to awaken him, but the dream’s grip was too powerful.

In his sleep he began to call, “Anna! Anna! No! I’m sorry! I’m so sorry!” in that clear, youthful voice. Hans wondered who Anna was. Brother Elias seemed too young to have such passion for a lover. In any case, the pain in his voice seemed to point to a more tragic tale. Hans had little time for contemplation, for the snow began to fall thicker and faster. An icy wind threatened to extinguish the flame necessary for their task.

“My fault! It’s all my fault! No! Please!” At his wit’s end, Hans reached out and shook Brother Elias violently. His eyes snapped open and frost crawled up his arms, coating his habit and Hans’ alike. Hans broke away, staring at the frozen fabric in terror. The first thought through his mind was ‘begone accursed demon’, followed by several swears. But he mastered himself quickly. He had already established that Brother Elias could not be a demon, so what else was left?

“You… wield power over ice and snow?” Brother Elias stared at him like a cornered animal, round blue eyes wide with terror.

Finally, he murmured, “I was born like this.”

“Born like this?” said Hans slowly, “I can think of only one other said to have been born with this power.” He could feel his mind turning like the machinery of a mill wheel. To his surprise, Brother Elias barked a laugh.

“You know one of my secrets. You may as well know all. Soon it will not matter. I was once Queen Elsa of Arendelle.” From the hood of her habit, she revealed a que of fair hair. Hans gaped in shock. It seemed at once so unlikely and so obvious. Looking at her face, he could see now the femininity that he had mistaken for youth. He was so entranced that he nearly missed her next sentence.

“I know your secret as well, Prince Hans of the Southern Isles. My advisors told me Harald’s men would be everywhere. I knew what to look for.”

“That title is no longer mine,” he said, his mouth suddenly dry, “I renounced it when I came to the abbey.”

“Ah. It is a shame, then, that I shall still have to kill you for it.” She produced a dagger from under her habit and advanced toward him. Although she had him in her power, he could see fear in her eyes.

“Wait!” he cried, “I have no intention of revealing your secret!” She stopped short, although her dagger was still raised.

“Oh? Why should I believe you?”

“I knew something was wrong from the very first day you came here, but still I said nothing.”

“How did you know?”

“Your breath was cold. No steam in the winter air.” She considered him for a moment. Then she lowered her dagger. Hans thought he glimpsed relief in her eyes.

“I must go tonight. I had hoped to lay low until the spring, but this place is no longer safe for me. It is a shame that I could not send word ahead of time, but it cannot be helped now.” She turned as if to walk out the door at that moment.

“Wait!” he said again, “What’s changed? I will not breath a word of your secret, and nobody else knows. Please, at least wait until the herbalist returns. He is a good and wise man, and I know he will advise you rightly.” He knew she saw the sense in his words. Silently, she sat down on the palette. Together they stared into the fire. Hans had a feeling neither of them would sleep tonight.

-

For the next few days, things returned to almost normal. The harsh cold showed no signs of abating as they continued their work in the infirmary. Elsa was as kind and patient as she had been when she was Brother Elias, calming their patients with her cooling touch. Hans continued to mix herbs as his mentor had taught him. In a way, they were more in sync in their work than they had ever been. Perhaps their newfound understanding had allowed them to communicate better.

Has would be lying if he said the tenor of their interactions had not changed slightly. How could he go on as he had, knowing that his companion was not a scrawny youth but a beautiful woman? He found himself thinking things that would make his confessor’s hair curl. Maybe I was wrong, he thought wryly, and she really is a demon sent to tempt me, specifically?

But he had other reasons for avoiding the confessional, not least of which was his dislike for the novices’ confessor. He could not risk anyone learning their secret, especially a busybody such as him. And he could not bring himself to lie before God. If he were to be struck down and be sent to Hell for dying without absolution, so be it. It would be worth it to protect her.

Their newfound peace was to be short-lived. Hans was at the riverbank fetching water when he spied a familiar horse. He would know that bay anywhere, and he knew its rider could not be far away. Before he could turn around, he felt a blade at his throat.

“Hello, dear brother,” came a voice.

“Sweyn.” His oldest brother and his father’s favorite. The King would send him on any business he could not attend to himself.

“Now, now, what kind of a greeting is that for your future king?” He removed the blade and spun Hans around to face him.

“What do you want?” he ground out, “I take it this is not a social call.”

“Good guess, little brother. Father’s troops are three days march from here. He’s heard rumors that the Snow Queen is in these parts. He wants to know if they are true.”

“How should I know? I’m cooped up in that monastery all the time. I haven’t seen a woman for weeks. And even if I had seen her, why should I help Father? He’s the one who sent me to this place to rot.” Sweyn smiled a toothy grin.

“Because if you don’t, I will kill you and dump your body through that hole in the ice. And if you do, Father will carve out some of Arendelle just for you. I’m sure we can find some land for little Hans.” The offer was tempting. All his life, he had dreamed of being somebody important, of having something that was just his. If he had lands of his own, he could realize that dream. But as he considered, he realized he could not trust anything Sweyn said. This was the man who had once claimed to see a comet and then tried to push him out of a third-floor window. Hans had been lucky to be able seize a shutter to prevent the fall. He hoped a similar lifeline would come to him now.

“I cannot help you. Like I said, I haven’t seen a woman in weeks.” If there was one thing Hans knew, it was how to lie.

“Surely you must have heard some talk?”

“Gossip is strictly forbidden for monks. We are punished harshly for breaking silence. I know nothing.”

“Some spy you turned out to be. Even here you cannot escape your penchant for failure.” Hans did not let the words rile him.

“If you want my opinion, the queen and the princess are both dead and have been for a long time.” His brother snorted.

“Wrong as usual. I know for a fact that the princess is in Corona. She waits there for her sister as she raises an army. That is why we must strike fast.” Hans was surprised his brother would admit to feeling any pressure from the princess of Arendelle.

“See, you know more than I do.” Sweyn was suspicious by nature, but Hans could tell that he believed him.

“It is a pity you speak the truth, brother. I would have so loved to leave your body under the ice. Perhaps I still shall. But no, father will want an inside man when he lays siege to the city. Such a pity, but there will always be another opportunity.” It spoke to their relationship that these death threats neither shocked nor upset Hans. He knew his brother would not hesitate to make good on them, but he also knew his father would never allow Sweyn off the leash like that. Not while he was still alive, at least.

“Goodbye, Sweyn.” And like that, his brother had vanished, melting back into the barren forest.

-

He met Elsa in the stables, where he was certain they would not be overheard.

“My father’s troops are only a few days march away from here. We must flee tonight.”

“We are not going to do anything. I will leave on my own.” Hans could not believe his ears.

“Are you insane? It’s much too dangerous for you to travel alone. The roads are a lawless place, and anything could happen.”

“You forget, Brother Hans, that I have a unique weapon in my arsenal. Any who tried to cross me would find himself much the worse for it. No, I will not let you leave behind your vows for my sake.”

“Forget my vows!” said Hans, wishing he could use stronger language, “I did not choose this life of my own free will. I would gladly abandon it to travel with you to Corona.” He would gladly travel with her for as long as she would let him. Elsa was silent for a long moment.

“Very well. It seems you have made up your mind already. I will send word ahead to ready a ship for us.”

“How?” As far as Hans knew, Elsa had no contact with anyone outside the abbey.

“I have my ways. You must only concern yourself with readying the horses.”

-

They sneaked out directly after Compline. With any luck, they would not be missed until Matins, and a search party would not be sent until the next morning. Hans led them to an abandoned barn near a field where they used to gather herbs. They could wait there until true nightfall when they could travel on the roads more covertly.

In the gathering darkness, he asked the question that had been on his mind for the last week: “Were you dreaming about your sister?”

“Hm?”

“That night in the herb shed. You called out for Anna. It must have been a pretty unpleasant dream.” He could hear her shifting her weight uncomfortably, and he thought maybe he shouldn’t have asked.

At last, she said, “I was dreaming about the night our parents died. The two of us managed to escape from the castle together, but we were separated in the commotion. We were being attacked from all sides. I tried to use my ice to protect us, but I’ve never had very good control over it. It was all I could do to hold them off while Anna fled. I don’t know what happened to her after that. If I could have just made a stable barrier, we could have fled together. I could have continued to protect her. As it stands, she’s probably dead because of me.” He could hear that she was trying not to cry and probably failing. He reached out to wrap an arm around her, surprised when she did not pull away.

“The princess is not dead. According to my brother, she’s waiting for you in Corona with an army.”

“What?” Elsa sniffed, “Do you believe him?”

“Not as a rule, no. But he would have no reason to lie about that particular fact, especially because it makes my father look bad.”

“That’s… wonderful!” said Elsa, still sounding slightly shocked, “I can’t believe—” But her elation was cut short when they heard the snap of a branch outside. Hans was immediately on his guard. He hoped it was not someone from the abbey, or worse, the sheriff. Would he be able to kill if that were what it came down to? Yes, he decided, he would. He hoped his swordsmanship had not suffered too much from lack of practice in the abbey.

“Brother Hans?” called a voice, and Hans immediately relaxed.

“Brother!” he shouted, “In here!” A silhouette appeared in the doorway and he felt Elsa tense next to him. But the light of the lantern he carried soon identified him as the herbalist.

“Is the queen with you?”

“How did he know?” hissed Elsa in his ear. Hans wanted to reply that he somehow knew everything, but the older man beat him to it.

“I knew from the first that you were not a young man. No one but a monk who had spent his whole life cloistered away from women would ever believe your disguise. As for the other, did you think I would not notice the way the oil bottles froze when you touched them? God has given you a rare gift, your Majesty. I hope you will someday grow to love it.”

“Thank you,” Elsa spluttered. The herbalist turned to Hans.

“And you will be her steward on the journey to Corona? I trust you will not take advantage of your role.”

“Of course not. But her Majesty has little need for a steward. She has power enough to foil any who might wish to harm her.”

“Very good, very good.”

“You’re not going to turn us in?” asked Elsa, sounding slightly incredulous.

“The Church may have chosen to support King Harald, but I myself prefer to remain neutral. They have not missed you yet at the abbey. In the morning, the sheriff may receive information that you are making a break for the North Sea. The road to the southern ports should be clear at least until then.”

“How can we ever thank you?” said Elsa. The monk smiled.

“The best thanks you can give me is to live safely and well.”

Night had truly fallen. They led the horses out of the barn and mounted near the fence. Hans relished the feeling of riding again. He had missed it after all this time. The herbalist turned to say goodbye. Suddenly Hans felt a wave of sorrow wash over him, for the loss of the abbey and his vows and all the other things he had thought he never cared about before.

“Brother,” he called, “I’m sorry to be leaving you. I know the oath is supposed to be for life.”

“The purpose of the novitiate period is to determine one’s suitability for monastic life. Clearly you are destined for other things. Go in peace, my children.”

They waved goodbye to the herbalist and set off on the southbound road. As they road through the wood, Hans felt freer than he ever had in his life. Within a day, they would be at the sea. After that, he knew not what lay in store.

When they reached a crossroad, Elsa called to him, “Which way, Brother Hans?”

Indicating the path, he said, “I don’t think you have to call me ‘Brother Hans’ anymore.”

“Oh, what should I call you, then? Have you decided to go back to your old title?”

“No, just ‘Hans.’ ‘Hans’ is fine.”

“All right then, Hans.” He felt a little thrill at the way she said it.

As they rode through the night, Hans found himself imagining his future. He could see Elsa once again on the throne of Arendelle, himself a fixture at her side. Maybe someday, she could even grow to love him. Or perhaps that was just a fantasy. But whatever the future held, he knew his father would rue the day he had sent his youngest son to an abbey in Arendelle. Hans, on the other hand, had never been more grateful for anything in his life.

***

Author’s Note: I heard the Helsa fandom has a thing about priests, so I... wrote something totally unsexy about monks instead? Truly the fanfiction equivalent of when you order a Coke and the waitress asks, “Is Pepsi okay?”

Any fans of Brother Cadfael will notice quite a few Easter eggs sprinkled throughout. (And by Easter eggs I mean blatant plagiarism.) I considered cutting out some of the world-building of how Frozen maps onto The Anarchy, but I left it in because I liked it. It’s my sleepover, and I get to choose the movie! And hey, it worked for Victor Hugo. 

I can’t express how much I appreciate my readers and the response you’ve given me! Enjoy! <3

#helsa #helsasummerevent #helsasummerevent2020 #frozen #hans #elsa #cadfael references #medieval au #fanfic

[stupidsexyfandom]

Armistice

@helsa-summer-event

Rated T // Drama, Modern AU

The gang engage in a classic beat-the-heat activity for people who don’t have central air: going to the movies.

Written for Prompt #5 of Helsa Summer: We’re cool in the summer. 

“Come to the movies with me and Kristoff.”

“I thought you said it was too hot to do anything?” Hans smiled against the phone. He had long ceased to be surprised by Anna calling him up out of the blue to hang out, despite their messy breakup a year before. What he was not expecting was to be invited on a movie date with her new boyfriend. Something else had to be going on.

“I meant that it was too hot to do anything else. The theaters are air-conditioned, and the matinee tickets are cheap. Plus, I hear they have those deluxe reclining seats.” Anna acted oblivious to his probing. It was more likely that she was deliberately avoiding his unasked question.

“Don’t you have any other friends?” He kept his tone light and teasing.

“Well, yeah, but they’re all couples, and I don’t want Elsa to be uncomfortable. I don’t want her thinking this is a date thing.” Ah, there it was. Translation: Kristoff and I want to participate in the storied summer tradition of making out like teenagers in the dark, and I don’t want Elsa to see. Other couples would surely tip her off.

Hans sighed overdramatically and said, with faux grandiosity, “Fine. I will chaperone the chaperone while you and Kristoff get up to whatever it is you kids get up to these days. All I ask in return is a simple cone of Carvel ice cream, given to me at a prearranged time after the showing.”

“Thanks, gramps. You know, it’s a real wonder that you’re my only single friend.” He could hear Anna giggling through her sarcasm.

“Wonder no longer, for the truth is that I am simply too cool for all of you.”

“Sure, whatever you have to tell yourself. We’re seeing the latest Star Wars. Meet us in the parking lot at 4.”

-

It really is too hot to do anything else, thought Hans as he walked across the parking lot. Heat radiated up from the asphalt, the air shimmering with humidity. He saw the others standing by Kristoff’s truck, looking ready to wilt. Anna and Kristoff were dressed casually, seemingly taking their not-a-date act seriously. Elsa looked overdressed in comparison, out of place in her sleeveless button-up.

“Hey, Hans,” Anna called to him. He raised a hand in greeting. Kristoff gave him a friendly nod, while Elsa made no acknowledgement that she had even seen him.

“Hey, guys. I hope I haven’t kept you waiting?”

“No, we just got here,” said Anna, “Let’s go inside, I can’t stand to be out here any longer.”

They purchased their tickets and made their way to the appointed theater. Kristoff filed into their row first, then Anna, then Hans. Elsa sat next to him at the end of the row. Almost as soon as they had sat down, the lights dimmed.

As the trailers played, Hans was keenly aware of Elsa next to him. She perched on the edge of her seat, ignoring the reclining function. Hans figured he had better do the same so she could not look past him to the end of the row. She seemed ill at ease. Even in the darkness, he could see her white hands fidgeting out of the corner of his eye. He wondered if she was ever able to relax. Beside him, Kristoff had already pulled Anna into his lap. Their attention was clearly not on the screen. It seemed to Hans this rather defeated the purpose of coming to the movie theater to cool down, but what did he know?

Just after the opening crawl, he heard Elsa hiss, “I’m getting popcorn.” She stood up abruptly. Hans did the same, attempting to shield Kristoff and Anna from view. The sudden movement filled his vision with white. Let it never be said that he did not take his role of chaperone seriously. He followed her out of the theater.

When they reached the lobby, Elsa did not join the concessions line. Instead she kept walking out onto the sidewalk. The sun beat down on them, and Hans was instantly too hot. She whirled to face him, looking irritated.

“Look, I don’t need a babysitter!”

“A babysitter?” Hans feigned innocence.

“I know Anna wasn’t expecting me to say yes when she asked me to come. She thinks that just because I’ve never has a boyfriend, I don’t know what she and Kristoff are up to. I know, and I don’t care. But I do care that you keep hanging around my sister. How dare you, after what you did to her?”

Ah, he should have figured. Anna had never been one to hold a grudge. She may have given him a whopper of a black eye, but they had managed to awkwardly patch up their differences. It might even be said that they were now friends. Elsa was a different story. She had always come off as restrained, but Hans had suspected that a quiet intensity lay beneath the surface. The thrill of being proven right paled in comparison to the discomfort of being the recipient of her ire.

“Anna invited me here. We’ve worked things out.”

“Unfortunately for both of us, Westergaard, Anna is a far better person than I will ever be. That’s why you need to stay away from her!” A few wisps of hair had escaped from Elsa’s updo. They glowed golden in the light of the late afternoon sun. It struck him that she was very beautiful when she was angry, but he pushed the thought away. For one thing, Elsa was always beautiful. For another, that information was really, really not helpful or relevant right then.

“I’m sorry about what I did to her— to both of you. I can’t tell you how sorry I am. But all I can do is try to be better and to leave the past in the past. I hope you can give me that chance.”

“This isn’t about me. I can leave behind your petty games. I can leave behind the way you tried to snipe that internship out from under me. I can even forget how you spread rumors that I was having a nervous breakdown and should be ejected from the program.” Hans wanted to retort that the rumors had mostly been spread by Duke Weselton, and anyway, wasn’t the nervous breakdown thing true? But the past year had taught him that sometimes the snappiest response was not the best one. Half the battle of becoming a nicer person was just keeping his mouth shut.

Instead he said, “But you did get that internship. All I got was academic probation, which I’ve only now been removed from. I’m sorry that I hurt you, but I don’t know what else I can do.”

“I told you, I’m over it. But I can’t leave behind the way you used my sister because you thought our name would further your career. I can’t forget how cruel you were when you dumped her. And I’ll never forget how you left her at that party afterwards, drunk and alone. She could have died! Thank God Kristoff was there. He had to take her to the ER!” Elsa’s voice had risen, the tension between them as palpable as the humid air. Hans felt his own temper coming to a boil. His flaw in arguments had always been escalating to match the other person.

“I didn’t realize it was her first college party, and I certainly didn’t realize she had drunk so much! Yes, I shouldn’t have said those things to her. But it’s not like I was her only reason to get wasted. You never did her any good. She was so lonely because you were never around! She was always telling me how you never answered her calls. She invited you that night, and for once she thought you were really going to come. But you weren’t there!” Hans regretted the words as soon as they were out of his mouth. If half of not being a jerk was shutting up, the other half was taking responsibility for his own actions, and he had just blown both in one shot. Elsa stared up at him with such anguish in her eyes that it almost hurt to look at her. She reacted like an injured wildcat.

“You say that like it makes you any better! Yeah, I may be barely holding it together, and I may be failing Anna in every way that matters! But at least I’m not an asshole like you!” She looked close to the breaking point both physically and emotionally, as if she might collapse at any moment. Hans fought the sudden urge to reach out and comfort her. She might seem helpless in the moment, but he knew she would sooner bite off his head than cry on his shoulder.

“Elsa, I didn’t mean—” But her pain had been replaced by cold fury.

“Save it, Westergaard. I need to cool down. Here’s what’s going to happen. I will leave Anna and Kristoff to their covert activities, and I suggest you do the same. But first, I’m going inside for fifteen seconds to splash some water on my face. When I come back out, you had better not be here.” Elsa’s voice was cool and sharp as ice.

“Don’t you at least want to see the rest of the movie?” said Hans, although he was certain this situation was beyond saving. Elsa gave a harsh laugh.

“Hardly. I read the spoilers online, and I have no desire to watch Kylo Ren get redeemed on the big screen.”

“So you don’t believe in redemption? Not even for love?”

“People don’t change, Westergaard. Not through love, and not through death. Some things can never be forgiven.” And then she was gone, the theater door slammed shut in his face.

Hans did not want to see what would happen if he ignored her directive, so he walked to the grocery store next door. Through the front window, he watched Elsa emerge from the theater and storm into the Carvel across the parking lot. She sat at the counter with only a water, her head in her hands. After watching her for a few minutes, he decided to kill time until the movie ended. He walked up and down every aisle, fantasizing about climbing into a freezer case. The air conditioning and the familiar surroundings eventually calmed him down.

When he felt enough time had passed, he made his way back to the cinema. He slipped into the back row of the theater to catch the tail end of the movie. As the credits rolled, he met up with Anna and Kristoff outside the door to the lobby.

“Did you guys like the movie?” he asked, “What did you think of the part where they revealed Palpatine was merely a puppet controlled by Obi-wan Kenobi?”

“It was great,” said Kristoff at the same time as Anna said, “Palpatine was in this movie?” They stared at him blankly until he started laughing.

“Oh, the looks on your faces! Speaking of which, Kristoff, you’ve got a little something…” He gestured vaguely at his face. Kristoff wiped away a smear of lip gloss as Anna giggled.

“Where’s Elsa?” she asked, “I thought you were together?”

“She’s at Carvel. I’m afraid we had a bit of a blowout. I’m not exactly her favorite person. I’d better take a raincheck on that ice cream; I don’t think she wants to see me right now.”

“Oh no! I’d better go make sure she’s all right. I’m sorry about the ice cream, Hans. Next time!” She raced out of the theater, Kristoff trailing behind her. Hans watched through the window as they comforted Elsa. Although he remained in the cinema, his mind drifted back to the earlier argument. Christ, he really had behaved like an ass. By the time the trio had finished their ice cream, he realized he had been standing there too long. He made his way towards the door.

“Excuse me, sir!” He turned. One of the cinema employees was approaching him, waving something in her hand.

“Your girlfriend left these in the rest room.”

“She’s not my…” But Hans shut his mouth when he saw the medicine bottle he had been handed. As he read the name of the drug, several things dropped into place. He thought he understood now why she seemed so anxious all the time, why she rarely went out, why she didn’t answer her sister’s calls.

-

They met the next day on neutral ground, in the movie theater parking lot. The weather was cool and gray after the rain the night before. Elsa was already there when Hans pulled in, standing next to her car. There was still something stiff and formal about her appearance, but today it was softened by the voluminous braid over her shoulder. She looked as if she hadn’t slept.

“Give it to me,” she said as soon as he stepped out of the car. He produced the bottle from his pocket and handed it over. She snatched it from his grasp as if she were afraid he was going to pull it away at any moment.

“What do you want? Money? I can’t give you much, Anna will be suspicious if I withdraw from our trust account. Academic help? I can’t write your papers; they’ll know my writing style. But I can proofread and do your literature review. Or is it pull you want? I can speak to the dean, get the probation taken off your transcript. I’ll say I made it all up. Or I can talk to the board of my father’s company, I’m sure they’ll have a job offer for you. I’ll do anything you want, so long as you don’t tell anybody. Well, almost anything.” She wrapped her arms around her chest, protecting herself from some imagined fate. Hans was baffled.

“What? I don’t want any of that.”

“So you’re just going to tell everybody? My boss, the dean, my advisor? You won’t even give me a chance to buy your silence?”

“No, I’m not going to tell anybody,” he insisted. Did she seriously think he was about to blackmail her?

“Right, because I’m willing to cooperate. But you have to tell me what it is you want.” Her eyes were pleading, and she fidgeted anxiously with her hands.

“Elsa, I promise I’m not trying to blackmail you.”

“You’re not?” Her fidgeting stopped abruptly.

“No! God, no. What made you think that?”

“Your text. It was a bit cryptic.” She seemed more relaxed now, almost bordering on exhausted.

“I wasn’t sure if Anna knew, so I didn’t want to be specific.” In all the times they had discussed her sister, Anna had never mentioned Elsa’s illness. Considering how much she talked about her, Hans found it unlikely that it just never came up.

“I’m sorry for jumping to conclusions. I know it sounds paranoid, but I just couldn’t stop thinking about the rumors last time. I couldn’t go through that again. And I was so certain that you hated me enough, especially after yesterday.”

“I don’t hate you. I never hated you” Hans leaned against his car, waiting for her answer. After a few moments, she leaned next to him.

“You were right yesterday,” she said, “I’ve never done Anna any good. I couldn’t even protect her from you. You know, when you started dating, I saw the red flags. I thought, ‘What’s this grad student doing with a freshman?’ But I ignored it. I thought that you might be a more stable presence in her life. I thought that even if there was something up with you, it couldn’t be worse than me.”

“Look how that turned out,” said Hans wryly. They stood silently for what could have been a split second or an eternity.

“Anna doesn’t know,” said Elsa suddenly.

“Hm?”

“You said you weren’t sure if she knew. She doesn’t.”

“Don’t you think you should tell her?”

“I don’t know how. That night in the ER, I was so scared. I thought I was going to lose her. And I realized something had to change. If something happened, I couldn’t live with myself knowing that I had spent my whole life pushing her away. She’s all I have, and I love her dearly. It’s been hard this past year. I’ve been trying to let her in, but I don’t know how to do it without hurting her. And I don’t know if she can ever forgive me for what’s already happened. I wasn’t there when she needed me most.”

“I think we can agree,” said Hans, “that I have turned out to cause Anna far more harm than you have. But you’ve seen how readily she has forgiven me. If she can do that, I’m sure you won’t have any trouble. After all, she loves you.”

“I hope you’re right.” Hans reached out tentatively and patted her shoulder. She stiffened momentarily, but then she relaxed into the touch.

“Anyway,” he said, “you are not an asshole like me.” Elsa seemed surprised to find herself laughing, and Hans found himself joining in.

When she had pulled away from the car, Elsa said, “You know this doesn’t make us friends.”

“I would never dare to suggest such a thing. All I ask is this: truce?”

“Truce,” she replied decisively.

“Well,” he said, straightening up, “in honor of our newly-signed armistice agreement, I propose we go see a movie.”

“All right,” she agreed, “but only if we get ice cream afterwards.”

-

“Well, Elsa, what did you think? Did it make a case for the redemptive power of love?”

“I will concede that love is powerful enough to motivate change for the better. But change isn’t instantaneous. Redemption is a long process. You have to work for it, and it has to be earned time and time again. Death is just a lazy shorthand, and it’s bad writing.”

“You want to talk bad writing, what about my man General Hux? The guy just switched sides in the third act with no warning. The foreshadowing was nonexistent because they were too intent on fooling the audience. It was just a plot twist for the sake of a plot twist, more for shock value than because it added anything to the story. That’s bad writing.”

“I don’t know, I kind of liked him.”

“Either you’re saying that to be contrary or you just have a thing for redheads.”

“I am not being contrary!”

“So you like redheads, then?”

“I don’t!”

“You answered too quickly.”

“I didn’t!”

“Yes, you did.”

“Look, are we getting ice cream or not?”

***

Author’s Note: Modern AU is something I thought I would never write. But I did say I was apologizing today. Unfortunately, this did not turn out as light and fluffy as I had hoped. Some apology, huh? At least you got some Star Wars references out of it. Thank you all so much for reading! <3

#helsa #helsasummerevent #helsasummerevent2020 #frozen #hans #elsa #mentions of hanna #mentions of kristanna #star wars references #modern au #fanfic

[stupidsexyfandom]

Atonement

@helsa-summer-event

Rated M: Mature themes, SFW // Angst

CONTENT WARNING: Major Character Death, Suicide

Twenty-five years later, a body washes up in Arendelle. 

Written for Prompt #4 of Helsa Summer: Gorgeously tan. 

The morning after the storm dawned cool and gray. Queen Elsa rose even earlier than usual after a night plagued by insomnia. She stood on her balcony, watching as the city began to stir. The sea lay still as glass, slate blue and impenetrable. She wished she could stand staring at it forever. Her mind had been greatly troubled, and today, she did not feel like speaking to anyone.

Unfortunately, she reminded herself, being queen left no room for fits of pique. She would have to go downstairs to tend to her duties eventually, as she had every day for the past twenty-five years. Casting a last longing look at the gray sea, she steeled herself to face the world.

Breakfast with Anna, Kristoff, and the children could always lift her spirits, even on such a dour day as this. Elsa supposed she should no longer think of them as children en masse. The oldest, Isolde, would be twenty-one in the spring. Watching her niece, Elsa could hardly believe she had become queen at that age. She seemed so young. Surely she herself had not been such a child when she had taken the throne? But perhaps she had been so young once. In any case, it was her prerogative as a doting aunt to remember all her nieces and nephews as babes in arms no matter how old they got.

After breakfast, she reviewed her itinerary for the day. The bulk of her time was occupied by a foray into the city to assess storm damage. The high winds and heavy rains of the previous night had wrought havoc on structures private and public alike. Beyond the usual cleanup, Elsa had to decide where to allocate funds for repairs and assistance.

She was accompanied on her inspection tour by the castle’s steward, Kai. He had worked in the castle since her father had been crowned. Although his hair was now white, he seemed to grow shrewder with each passing year. Elsa valued his opinion more than those of most of the diplomats and aristocrats on her advisory council.

Together they walked through the streets of the city. Elsa was pleasantly surprised. All told, Arendelle had weathered the storm much better than she had feared. She knew her people were strong, but the wind and rain had been particularly fierce. When the pair reached a damaged building, Kai would make note of it in his little book, and Elsa would do her best to help. Where shingles had blown off the baker’s roof, she created a patch of ice to keep the rain out. Where the upper story of a tenement sagged, she created an icy scaffolding to support it until repairs could be made. All throughout the city, she did what she could. It was times like these when she was thankful for her powers, and she could tell that her people were, too. Every snowflake was an atonement for what had happened so many years ago.

There was a small crowd gathering at the top of the cliffs overlooking the sea. They appeared to be looking at something caught on the rocks below. Elsa thought the wind must have blown something over something over the edge in the night, perhaps a signboard or even a cart. Perhaps she would be able to get it back for them with her powers. She and Kai joined the townsfolk in peering over the edge. At first, Elsa could see nothing. Then she caught sight of a flash of red and felt suddenly sick. There, where the waves were lapping at the rocks, lay a body.

She immediately conjured a staircase to the foot of the cliff, careful to give the treads an anti-slip texture. Kai was the first down it, moving nimbly despite his advanced age. Elsa followed. When they reached the bottom, they had to pick their steps carefully along the slippery rock. The body lay face down. Its hair had been the red that caught her eye from the clifftop. Kai knelt to check its pulse, although they both knew it was a vain gesture. Sighing, Elsa created a broad platform of ice beneath the three of them. She raised it into a pillar until they were even with the head of the cliff. Two fishermen rushed forward to carry the body onto solid ground.

They lay the dead man face up on a patch of grass. For the first time, Elsa could see his face. A chill of recognition ran through her, and she wrapped her arms around herself instinctively. When she looked down, she was shocked to see spirals of frost covering her cloak. She had not lost control of her powers like that in decades.

“Is something wrong?” She could feel Kai’s keen eyes upon her. With anyone else, she might have been able to pass it off as the shock of seeing a dead body so close. But Kai had known her for too long. He had seen the recognition in her eyes.

“I know this man,” she said haltingly.

“Oh?” Elsa had to think fast. She couldn’t let anyone know what she knew, not even Kai.

“I saw him yesterday. He told me the last time he was in Arendelle was for my coronation, and he wanted to pay his respects after twenty-five years.” This was not exactly a lie, although it was far from the whole truth.

“Did he tell you his name?”

“I believe he said it was Anderson. Hans Anderson.”

-

She had seen him in the town square. All around, the city of Arendelle was bustling with preparations for the oncoming storm. He was standing at a produce stall, examining the varieties of fruit. She might not have recognized him if not for his eyes. He wore the garb of a simple sailor, and his face was tanned and weather-beaten. But she would know those eyes anywhere.

She paused for a moment, uncertain of whether to approach him. Part of her wanted to ask why he had come here, or how he dared to show his face here at all. The other part of her wanted to turn away and forget she had even seen him. She had learned long ago the value of letting sleeping dogs lie. But soon enough the choice was made for her. He had seen her.

“You haven’t changed,” he said by way of greeting, and Elsa hated that he was right. Age had taken its toll on her, but its price had been lighter for her than for most. Her hair had always been white, and her time indoors had kept her skin smooth. He could not see the achy joints and stiff muscles that lay beneath the surface. Nor could he see how she had grown, no longer fearful and isolated. She had learned to be strong for her people, to make difficult decisions and navigate stormy seas.

“You have,” she told him, although she was not sure that it was true. He dressed coarsely and had clearly spent the last twenty years working under the sun, his red hair streaked with gray. He still carried with him a certain air of refinement, but his face held an open simplicity she had not seen before. Still, she was wary. He was an expert pretender, and it was likely the same frozen heart lay beneath this roughhewn exterior.

“I need to speak with you.”

“Then speak.” Her tone was chilly.

“Not here. Somewhere private.”

“I have nothing to say to you.”

“You only have to listen.” Elsa wanted to dismiss him out of hand, to tell him that she didn’t have to do anything. But there was something in his eyes that was both dangerous and desperate. She found herself assenting. He tried to give her his name and current ship, but she brushed them away. They would meet on her terms.

Sitting at her dressing table that evening, Elsa mulled over her choice. She was not going to allow herself to regret it. So much of her life had been stolen away by fear and regret. As she had grown older, she had learned not to let them dominate her thoughts and actions. But that evening, those emotions threw her back to the day she became queen. What’s done is done, she thought. And although she could not eliminate her regret, she could keep moving forward.

Lost in thought, she removed the pins from her updo and began brushing her hair. As she braided it for sleep, she realized the actions were pointless. She would be going out again anyway. But seeing the braid over her left shoulder gave her an idea. Standing, she replicated the first ice dress she had ever made. She had not worn one like it in many years, finding it too daring to be taken seriously at court. Now, she remembered the power she had felt when she first created it. Perfect, she thought. It was the same dress she had worn that day on the fjord. She wanted him to remember what he had done.

-

The wind whistled as she stole down to the side entrance. Elsa could see the backs of the leaves, but no rain yet fell. When she opened the garden door, she was surprised to find him already waiting.

“Did the guards see you?” The last thing Elsa needed was for anyone to know about their secret assignation.

“I climbed over the wall,” he said, gesturing behind him. Elsa could barely make out a patch of ivy growing over the stonework, and she made a mental note to have it cut back later. But tonight, it had been her ally.

She led him to the chapel. None of the lamps were lit, so the only illumination came from the moonlight streaming in through the windows. She set the lantern she carried on the dais. The flame cast weird shadows across the flagstones.

She whirled to face him and said, “Why did you come here?”

“You don’t know? I came to beg for your forgiveness.” A cold wind blew through the chapel, extinguishing the lantern. Elsa swore under her breath, any cutting response forgotten. She knelt to fumble with the wick, realizing she didn’t have any matches. That was the biggest problem with this ice dress: no pockets.

He was beside her in an instant, proffering a matchbook from his waistcoat pocket. As she reached out to take it, their hands brushed, and Elsa realized neither of them wore gloves. She wondered if it had been as long for him as it had for her. She struggled to light a match, finding the striking pad slick with ice. When a flame erupted at last, it fizzled just as quickly in her cold hands.

“Here, let me,” he said, gently taking back the book of matches. She watched silently as his tanned, agile hands lit the wick. They sat side by side on the edge of the dais, staring into the shadowy corners of the chapel.

Suddenly he said, “I hear the princess is married.”

“Yes,” said Elsa, “Happily married for more than twenty years now.”

“To the iceman?”

“Yes, to the iceman, Kristoff. They have several lovely children.” Elsa was stalling, not eager to return to the subject that had brought them there.

“Children? Will you tell me about them?” It occurred to Elsa that Anna probably would not want her to. Anna probably would be upset that she was speaking to him at all. She was ready to ask him what business the children were of his when he held up a hand.

“Please. Let me hear about the children that could have, in another life, been mine.” His words stung Elsa, especially because she often thought the same thing. She loved her nieces and nephews as though they were her sons and daughters. But sometimes, she imagined an alternate path, where she had loved and married and had children of her own. So she told him. She started with Isolde, who would be queen one day, and worked her way down. He listened with rapt attention, but his eyes held a sadness she knew too well.

When she had finished (with Wilhelm, age nine, avid collector of frogs and turtles), he asked, “And you? You have never married?”

“No. I discovered long ago that it was better to keep power for myself than to trust too easily and share it with anyone whose motives were uncertain. You taught me that. I suppose I never found anyone whom I could trust.” He barked a dry laugh and leaned back on his arms. Elsa studied his face among the harsh lamplight shadows, and she could see his expression soften.

“It is a shame, your Majesty, all that we have missed in life.” She wanted to tell him that he was wrong, that she had missed nothing. But instead she just sighed. They sat in silence for a while.

“You’ve never married either?” asked Elsa. She felt suddenly ridiculous. Here she was, making polite conversation with the man who had once tried to kill her. She wasn’t even sure what to call him. ‘Prince Hans’ seemed out of the question, for she was fairly sure he had been stripped of his title. Just ‘Hans’ seemed too familiar, implying a closer relationship. What else was left? The false name he had given her? But ‘Mr. Anderson’ seemed stiffly formal, like she was addressing a stranger. And whatever their relationship was, they were certainly not strangers. His voice interrupted her reverie.

“No. I’ve been at sea for many years, you know. No time for a wife.” Something in his tone told Elsa there was more to it.

“Many sailors marry.”

“Perhaps I was always too obsessed with what happened in Arendelle. I dreamed of it every night. Even in my waking hours, I could never be free of it. Each wave crashing against the hull seemed to call me to repent. Eventually, I could bear it no longer. I thought it might drive me mad. Perhaps there was a kind of madness in my coming here. But I knew that I could not rest until I saw you again. I could not go on without asking for your forgiveness.”

Elsa stood slowly, feeling stiff from sitting so low to the ground. She almost pitied him. Despite what she knew of him, he seemed genuinely repentant. Perhaps he had learned something in the past twenty-five years. That was what made this so hard.

“Do not ask for my forgiveness.”

“What?” He froze midway through standing up.

“Any wrongs you have committed against me pale in comparison to what you did to my sister. It is her forgiveness you must seek, not mine.”

“Then let me speak to her tomorrow. I won’t expect anything to come of it, so long as I have the opportunity.” His expression was tinged with eagerness verging on desperation. Elsa steeled herself. She had to protect her sister. She had been unable to do so twenty-five years ago when they had first met Prince Hans, and Anna had suffered for it. Now, Elsa finally had the chance to atone for that failure. She would not fail again.

“Princess Anna is happy now. She has a life and family of her own. The last thing she need is for you to dredge up the past.”

“But—”

“I sympathize. Do you think I don’t understand self-recrimination? She has finally managed to heal from what we’ve done to her. I won’t let you disrupt her life.”

Her words proved to be too much for him. He knelt before her, pleading desperately. She thought there was a touch of madness in his eyes.

“Please, I beg of you! If you will not let me see your sister, at least consider my plea for yourself. I don’t know how I can go on otherwise. I cannot live this haunted life.”

“I cannot help you. You must seek absolution elsewhere.” Elsa wished that things could be different. But she of all people did not have the right to grant forgiveness for what had happened at the coronation. Not when she herself had played such a large part in her sister’s suffering.

He threw himself at her feet like a child. She felt his hand on her leg, grasping at it like a lifeline. He buried his face in her skirts, and Elsa felt overwhelmed by his emotion. She noticed snowflakes drifting slowly downward and waved them away with her hand. Perhaps she was being selfish, letting her final act of atonement block his only chance at the same. But Anna’s happiness had to come first.

“Get up,” she said softly, pushing at his graying hair, “Hans. Get up.” He looked up at her, eyes moist but unwavering. Slowly he disentangled himself from her skirts.

“I can’t give you what was never mine to give. The most I can do is let you leave here in peace. I will not alert the Southern Isles, nor will I alert Arendelle’s guard. I have left you with your life. You must be content with that.” Her tone was kind, but she spoke with a sense of finality.

“A cursed life such as mine hardly qualifies. You have left me with nothing at all.” His eyes looked hollow, as if there were nothing behind them.

-

“Give us your best account of what happened last night, Captain,” said Kai. The body was laid out in the castle’s chapel. Because the dead man had no local family, Elsa had volunteered to take charge of the remains. Now a small group had formed there to try to figure out the cause of death. Elsa and Kai, her eternal shadow, stood on one side. The doctor and the bishop stood on the other. The captain of the St. Winifred, who had been found based on Elsa’s information, was the final member of their party. Elsa had worried that they might realize Hans’ true identity, but her secret seemed safe for the moment.

“The night watchman says Anderson returned around midnight, just about when the rain started. He didn’t go below decks right away, saying he wanted some fresh air. By the time of the one o’clock patrol, he was gone. The watchman say he thought Anderson went below deck, but the storm was getting intense by that point, so he wasn’t paying much attention.”

“Do you think he could have fallen overboard? Or could a wave have washed him away?” asked Kai. The captain considered for a moment.

“I would say either of those were possible, if not likely. Anderson was a competent sailor and very cautious. I doubt he slipped and fell. But in a storm like that one, anything may have happened.”

“Was he well liked among the crew?” Elsa could tell Kai was trying to be diplomatic.

“Yes, he got along with everybody. He was quiet and kept himself to himself. But he was always willing to pick up the slack, and that made him popular. I had offered him a promotion several times, but he always turned me down. I can’t imagine anyone wanting to harm him.”

Elsa was finding it difficult to keep her mind on the proceedings. She found herself staring at the corpse several times, fixated on how it compared to the Hans of her memory. Beneath its suntanned skin lay the pallor of death. Its eyes were closed, but she knew they must hold the same hollow look she had seen the night before. She longed to reach out and touch it. Would it be cold as ice? Would she even be able to tell? The bishop was speaking for the first time, and Elsa tried to give him her attention.

“What we must know is this: could he have done this to himself? We cannot move forward with the burial until we know whether he is worthy of consecrated ground.” The other three men looked distinctly uncomfortable. Elsa got the feeling this was a possibility they would all have gladly ignored.

The doctor spoke first: “All I can tell you is that he drowned. There were some abrasions from the rocks, but they were clearly postmortem. His body can give us no evidence aside from that.”

“I wouldn’t believe it for a moment,” said the captain with a bit of added bluster, “He just wasn’t the sort. Sure, he had his troubles, but so do we all. Doesn’t mean he’d do something so drastic.”

“Queen Elsa,” said Kai, “you spoke to him the most recently out of all of us. Can you shed any light on his state of mind?” Elsa had only a split second to decide what to say. She knew her evidence would be damning if she answered truthfully.

“It was only for a few minutes. He just told me how little I had changed since my coronation. He seemed in good spirits, but of course I didn’t know him.” She hoped her lie would be convincing. It was the least she could do for him.

-

The investigation was over. They had reached a consensus that it had been an accidental death. Elsa was glad to be finished with it. At least she had spared Hans the final indignity of an unconsecrated grave. Despite the bishop’s protestations, she had insisted that he be buried in the royal plot. She was not sure what lay beyond the grave, but she hoped his spirit would be able to find some peace.

Now, she walked along the beach, looking out over the slate-colored sea. She turned, hearing footsteps behind her. It was Kai.

“May I join you?”

“Of course.” They walked together in silence for a while.

“You went to a lot of trouble to arrange a burial for that man,” said Kai. He was dangling the bait in front of her. She wondered how much he knew.

“A queen’s duty is to take care of her people. Besides, I feel partially responsible for his death. He only came to Arendelle because of me.”

“Queen Elsa, listen to me,” Kai stopped walking and turned to face her, “this was not your fault. If it was not an accident, he made his own choice. I suspect he made his choice many years ago. You don’t need to hold yourself responsible.”

Elsa appreciated Kai’s kind words and common sense. She hoped that this time she would be able to follow his advice. After so many years, perhaps she did not need another reason to atone.

***

Author’s Note: This fic is brought to you by the letter C. C for Cadfael, an endless source of inspiration for me. C for Culturally Catholic, which bleeds through into my writing sometimes. C for Content warning, which is not something I usually need for my fics. Oh yeah, and C for Completely missing the spirit of the prompt, sorry guys. 

I had to rewrite the entire middle portion because I thought Hans was coming across as too mentally well-compensated. Tomorrow I begin my apology tour. Thanks so much for reading! <3

#helsa #helsasummerevent #helsasummerevent2020 #frozen #hans #elsa #mentions of kristanna #suicide cw #fanfic

[stupidsexyfandom]

To Follow the Sun

@helsa-summer-event

Rated T // Angst with a hopeful ending

Elsa awakens as Hans carries her back to Arendelle from the ice palace. 

Written for Prompt #3 of Helsa Summer: Relaxing in the intense sun. 

The first thing Elsa noticed as she drifted into consciousness was warmth. She could not remember the last time she had felt this warm. The second was a pleasant scent. Lemongrass and leather, saddle soap and wool. It reminded her of her father. The third was a gentle rocking motion, regular and calming. Could it all have been a dream?

But as the fog of sleep dissipated and her senses returned, Elsa knew that it was not so. Her father had been dead these three years, and he had not held her or rocked her for more than a decade before that. She became aware of a pounding in her head and a persistent ache throughout her body. Memories flashed through her mind, of the coronation and Anna and the ice palace. She struggled to open her eyes, even the muted sunlight making her head hurt.

She found herself looking up at a man. Prince Hans, she reminded herself, Anna’s fiancé. He was looking straight ahead and had not noticed her waking. She was surprised at how gently he held her, despite seeming to pay her no mind. They were on horseback, and she struggled to gauge their location. Mounted soldiers surrounded them.

We must be headed back to Arendelle. The thought filled her with panic, and she tensed. The prince looked down, and she immediately pretended to be unconscious. She had no desire to explain herself to him or to anyone else. She thought she could still feel him watching her, but if he had seen her wake, he kept it to himself. Perhaps he dreaded their inevitable confrontation as much as she did.

Although she could no longer look around, Elsa tried to plan her escape. She posed too much of a risk to the city if she returned. She could feel that her wrists were bound, but her palms were free. If she could only conjure a sharp shard of ice, she could cut the bindings and flee. An attempt to do so only produced a sharp pain in her head, and she barely managed to keep from wincing.

Elsa felt hopeless. She had struggled for so long to restrain her magic, and now, when she needed it most, it had deserted her. She could see no way out. The prince’s grip was firm, and her bindings were tight. She still felt slow and bleary from her injuries. Part of her wished she could just lie there forever. Still, she knew she had to try to get away. Staying away from her people was the only way she could keep them safe. She owed them that much, at least.

She summoned all the strength she had left, concentrating on forming an ice shard. Her fingers burned and her head ached mightily, but there was no result. A spasm passed through her at the intense pain. She felt certain that Prince Hans had noticed and would alert the guards, but still he said nothing. He merely adjusted his arm so that she lay closer to his chest, enveloping her further in his warmth.

When they reached the outskirts of the city, Elsa could no longer feign unconsciousness. The men were calling to each other, and she felt the prince’s touch on her bare shoulder.

“The cobblestones are slick with ice. It’s dangerous to ride through here,” he murmured, his face nearly buried in her hair. In an instant, he had dismounted and was leading the horse through the frozen streets. Their entourage of guards thinned somewhat as they passed through the city. But as their number dipped, they were replaced by the townspeople. Some merely watched from doorsteps and balconies, while others formed a motley parade as they followed their queen and her captor toward the castle.

Watching Prince Hans move through the streets was like being in the presence of the sun. Wherever he went, warmth and light seemed to follow. He spread them through the city with every step. Elsa thought that he and Anna were alike in that way. As he walked, every head turned to follow him. He was Apollo, and each member of the crowd was Clytie.

No, that wasn’t right. Whereas Apollo had spurned Clytie’s affections, the prince seemed to soak up the crowd’s. It fueled him to burn stronger and brighter, casting his light further with every awestruck face. Some of the people approached him, and he greeted every one with kindness. Elsa could hear mutterings rolling through the crowd. No, she was wrong two times over. Clytie had starved as she watched her love, wasting away until the gods took pity on her and transformed her into a sunflower. But Prince Hans had fed and clothed the people, protecting them from famine. The famine she had created, thought Elsa darkly.

She could bear to listen to the crowd no longer. She knew what they must think of her. A monster who had brought a curse upon the land. They were right, of course, but she didn’t want to hear them say it. As she looked upon the faces of her citizens, her royal office weighed on her more heavily than it ever had before. These were her subjects, and she moved through them as a stranger. Locked away for all those years, she had done nothing to earn their trust, and in their time of crisis, she had deserted them.

Prince Hans walked among the crowd naturally, as if he were born to do so. Elsa felt a spark of envy, but she pushed it down. She did not deserve the love of her people. Probably she never had. Perhaps it was better this way. If Arendelle’s citizens did not care for her, they would not stop her from leaving. The country would be left in more capable hands.

She regretted telling Anna she could not marry the prince. Well, really she regretted every abortive interaction she had had with Anna since she was eight years old. But that pronouncement in particular had proved to be her undoing. And to top it off, she had judged wrongly. She had suspected Prince Hans of some hidden motive, thinking he could not be as naïve as her sister. The perfect prince and whirlwind marriage proposal seemed too good to be true. In real life, things were never as easy as they were in fairy stories. And maybe that was the way for people like Elsa. She would never be the heroine. She could see no handsome prince or fairytale ending in store for herself. But for people like Anna and Prince Hans, who brought the sun with them wherever they went, maybe things could work that way. Maybe fairytales really could come true.

She found herself imagining their wedding day. Prince Hans in his white suit and Anna radiant in a white gown, her head wreathed with sunflowers. Envy stabbed again in Elsa’s chest, but she could not tell which of them she envied more. They were both so full of love to give and so eager to receive it. The summer sun would dust the city with gold, restored to its rightful place in the sky. The two of them combined could put it there themselves. In their sunny, happy kingdom, they would dance and laugh well into the night.

She could not imagine herself amid their revels. There was no place for snow and cold and darkness. Perhaps she would be somewhere far away, where she could no longer hurt anybody. Her people would at last be safe and her sister with them. She found it hard to imagine Anna as queen. It was a job of early mornings and stuffy meetings. But Anna could at least show her citizens the love that they deserved. Really, thought Elsa, she can’t botch the job any worse than I already have. And from what she had seen so far, she suspected that Anna would have a very able king to assist her.

Elsa’s train of thought was broken by their arrival at the castle. The guards at the gates saluted as they approached, and she found the gesture verging on parody due to her status as captive. Soon they had entered the courtyard. The prince halted the horse and reached toward her. Elsa recoiled. Even with her magic dulled, she worried what could happen. But he put both hands on her waist and lifted her down without incident. He gestured for her to follow, and she complied. Until the full strength of her magic returned to her, docility seemed like the easiest alternative.

As they passed through the foyer, Prince Hans asked the steward, “Has the princess returned?”

“No, your Highness. She hasn’t been seen since the night of the coronation. We’ve sent out a search party.” Elsa felt panic constricting her throat. Where was she? Why had she not come home? The temperature in the hall dropped, although it seemed a disproportionately small reaction to the terrifying news.

“A search party? I want every member of the guards out looking for her, and every member of the reserves. Use the hounds if you have to.” It calmed Elsa to know that someone else took this as seriously as she did. With any luck, her sister would be found and safely returned.

But her respite from fear was all too brief, as she soon realized where they were headed. Beneath the grand staircase lay the door to the dungeon. Despite living in the castle all her life, Elsa had never been down there. She knew it had not been used for generations.

The cell they had chosen for her was small and bleak. Prince Hans dismissed the guard at the door, muttering something that Elsa could not catch. When they were alone, he knelt to pick something up from the stone floor. When she saw what he held, she recoiled in horror. Snow flurries whipped through the air and frost crawled up her arms, but she could not generate enough force to break free.

“You… had these made for me?” she nearly whispered. In his hands were iron cuffs clearly made to restrain someone with her powers. To restrain her. The prince looked at her with such sadness in his eyes that he seemed like a different person.

“They were…” he stopped to clear his throat, “They were already here.”

Oh. The snow hung suspended in the air. The idea of her parents ordering this prison was nearly enough to break her. She had known that they feared her as much as they loved her, but she had never imagined this. She meekly held up her hands for encasement.

While the prince began unlocking the cuffs, she asked, “Why did you bring me back here?” Why not leave me to die in the ice palace?

“I couldn’t just let them kill you.”

“But I’m a danger to Arendelle!” He placed the first cuff on her hand and began securing it.

“I thought… if you could just stop the winter. Bring back summer. Please.” The first cuff was locked, and she dropped her arm as though it held the weight of the world. In a way, perhaps it did.

“Don’t you see? I can’t!” Understanding dawned on his face, and she continued, “You have to let me go! It’s not safe! I have to get as far away from here as possible. Only then can my people be free!” Even as the request left her lips, she could see its futility. It was almost ludicrous. She was begging him to release her while he was in the process of locking her up. His choice had clearly already been made.

“You know I can’t do that.” He finished locking the second cuff and gave a deep sigh, his breath visible in the chilly air. Then he produced a pocketknife, and Elsa wondered if this imprisonment was a farce designed to dispose of her quietly. But instead he cut the ropes binding her wrists. She stretched her arms, luxuriating in the feeling despite the heavy cuffs. This was the most she had moved them in hours, and she wondered if the restricted blood flow had been impacting her magic.

“You should try to sleep, your Majesty,” said the prince, indicating the cot in the corner, “You’ve had a long journey, and you’re injured. I’m sure you’ll have quite the bruise on your—” His face turned pink, and Elsa felt his gaze on her right thigh, bare nearly to the hip through the slit in her dress.

He pulled his eyes up to her face and continued, “Well, what I mean is you should get some rest.” Elsa stared at him numbly. How could he expect her to sleep after all that had happened? He turned and slipped out of the cell.

Left alone, Elsa sat on the edge of the cot. As she contemplated her iron cuffs, she realized she had been wrong about fairytales. One possible fairytale ending awaited her, but it was the fate of a villain. In the best case, she would disappear into a life of frigid solitude. If that were not enough to end the winter, she knew what lay in store for her. She knew what happened to monsters in the ends of fairy stories. Perhaps, if she were very lucky, she would return as a sunflower.

The door squeaked, and she looked up in surprised. Prince Hans had returned. He was holding a woolen blanket. She had not expected him to come back for her.

“Am I a monster?” she blurted out. He looked surprised to hear her speak, and for a moment she thought he would leave again. But instead he moved to sit next to her on the cot.

“No, I don’t think so. I think you’re scared, and I think you’ve lost your way. But that doesn’t make you a monster. It can’t have been easy growing up the way you did. I understand how crushing the loneliness can get.”

“I thought Anna said you had brothers?”

“Brothers like mine are not what I would call a cure for loneliness. In fact, I might go so far as to say they were the cause.”

“Oh. I’m sorry.” Elsa thought of all the times Anna had knocked on her door. No matter how many times Elsa ignored her, she had always knocked again.

“Don’t be. Growing up like that has made me a veritable expert on monsters. That’s how I can tell you aren’t one.”

“Really?”

“Would a monster care so deeply for her people that she would leave everything she had ever known to save them?”

“And what about my people? Do they think I’m a monster?” Elsa watched as the prince swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing in the pale flesh of his throat. His silence was enough of an answer for her.

“Then what’s the use? What good is it to not be a monster if everybody treats you like one?” Prince Hans sighed and leaned forward, resting his forearms on his knees. He seemed to be choosing his words carefully.

“I suppose it’s better than the alternative,” he finally said.

“The alternative?”

“To truly be a monster, but to have no one know it.” Elsa thought that the best solution would be to neither be a monster nor be thought one, but she knew that ship had sailed for her long ago.

They sat in silence for a while. Elsa studied the prince surreptitiously. She thought he looked tired. She wondered how much he really knew of monsters. A man as good as he was surely could not have much experience with them, whatever he may have said about his brothers. Finally, he stood up to go.

He had nearly reached the door when she called after him, “Wait!” He turned to face her.

“Don’t go!” He gave her a significant look. She nearly bubbled over with answers to his unasked question. Because Anna is isn’t here, and I’m scared about what will happen to her. Because I just can’t stand to be alone anymore. Because you make me feel like there’s hope for me. Because I think that maybe if I watch you long enough, I could learn how to melt. But none of those were things she could say to him.

All she said was, “Please.” And to her surprise, he gave a gentle nod.

“All right,” he said, “but only if you promise to try and get some sleep.”

It was a tight squeeze for him to sit on the cot with her stretched out, and her head only narrowly avoided his lap. But, despite the contortions, she felt more at ease than she had before. She tensed when he reached out his arm, but it was only to draw the blanket up over her. And although the cold did not bother her, she found herself appreciating the warmth.

The prince was humming softly to himself. As she listened to his sweet melody, she allowed herself to think of a happier future. Perhaps when Anna returned, they would be able to find a way to fix this. Perhaps she and Prince Hans would let Elsa inhabit some corner of their sunny, happy lives. Perhaps by being around them she could learn to be good. She would be the moon to their sun. Although she cast no light herself, she would reflect theirs back and illuminate the darkness for her people. She dared not hope for more than that.

These thoughts calmed Elsa greatly, and she drifted at the edges of sleep. As she slipped into unconsciousness, she thought she felt a light touch on her forehead. But it could merely have been the beginnings of a dream.

 ***

Author’s Note: There’s a lot of musical inspiration today. The title was adapted from and Beatles song, and I was also heavily influenced by “Love Like You” by Rebecca Sugar. The melody Hans hums is an old Irish tune best known as “Believe me if all those endearing young charms” with lyrics by Thomas Moore. It was where I first learned of the myth of Apollo and Clytie. (Also it was my parent’s wedding song and the tune of my alma mater, not that that’s relevant.) 

I had thought that this would be a short and light piece, but neither of those turned out to be true. Thank you so much for reading and for all the support you’ve given me! And buckle up, the next one gets intense. >:)

#helsa #helsasummerevent #helsasummerevent2020 #frozen #hans #elsa #mentions of hanna #fanfic

[stupidsexyfandom]

Lost in Sea Blue

@helsa-summer-event

Rated T // Angst

Hans loves the blue of the sky and sea. Too much, perhaps. It haunts him.  

Written for Prompt #2 of Helsa Summer: Blue skies & dandelion fuzz. 

When Hans was a child, he would sneak outside in summer to play in the fields around the castle. The castle faced the sea on one side, but its lands were extensive on all the others. He would run and jump and climb, taking pleasure in the fresh air and solitude. The joy of these activities was such that he could almost forget how he was not missed at home.

The forests seemed to hold countless untold mysteries. He would splash in the creek and pretend that bears and witches and ogres lurked behind every twisted branch. The meadow became a battlefield where he could wage campaigns against invisible opponents, or a pirate ship he captained across a stormy sea. When he grew tired of playing, he would lie back in the grass and make crowns of golden dandelion chains. He would pick the flowers that had gone to seed, blowing their fuzz through the air. As he watched the seeds float away into the pure blue sky, he would wish that he could grow up to be a heroic prince, just like the ones in his favorite fairy stories.

Perhaps his favorite pastime was to climb the old oak in the center of the meadow. The lack of competition from other trees had left it with many low-hanging branches that were perfect for a little boy to climb. He would climb as high as he could, until all that surrounded him were leaves and sky. Gazing up at that azure dome, he would pretend to be flying on a Pegasus, or a dragon, or even under his own power. That summer sky was his first taste of freedom. As time passed, he became increasingly hemmed in by his schoolwork and his brothers, and he no longer went to the meadow. But the memory of it remained his escape mechanism. When their torments became too much for him to bear, he would think of that wide expanse of blue and remember the absolute bliss of being free.

-

As a young man, Hans went to sea. The Southern Isles was a seafaring nation, and many of its princes served time in the navy. Hans found that he enjoyed it more than most. The sea offered him more autonomy than he had had in his whole life previously, even accounting for the chain of command. The work was difficult and often dangerous, but he relished the chance to prove himself and put his body to good use.

Every day was spent out under the sky. When the weather was clear, the sea and sky seemed to stretch on forever. Hans would stand on deck and crane his neck to see the full gradient. The deep blue water gave way to the pale horizon, the sky intensifying in color as it climbed toward its peak. The area directly overhead was so vibrant that it looked nearly periwinkle. No longer was he restricted to the blue dome of the sky. Now he felt as though he were in an orb, suspended weightless and surrounded by blue. The sea, the sky, and the wind were the only things that felt real. Although he had given up his fantasies of dragons long ago, he thought that this was the closest a man could get to flying.

His desire to see the sky did not lead him to shirk his duties. The callouses on his hands proved his contributions to the running of the ship. He climbed rigging as easily as he had the old oak tree, and he was willing to do any task set to him. His favorite chore was manning the helm. It was there that he got his first taste of power.

When the weather was stormy, Hans had learned time and again that the sea was a harsh mistress. Not malicious, but certainly not benign. An unstoppable force of nature with no regard for man. But standing at the wheel made him feel in control. He could harness the power of the sea and direct it to his will. It was intoxicating. Sailing through his blue orb with the wind at his back, he felt like the master of his own fate in a way he never had before.

-

It was the princess’s sea blue eyes that first drew Hans to her. They were wide and open like the sky, brimming with possibility. He could fall in love with eyes like that.

Running into her at the docks had been a stroke of good luck. When he learned she was the princess, he was thrown back to his childhood fantasies. He saw himself on the throne of Arendelle, finally a heroic prince worthy of the office. Freedom and power both lay within his reach.

He came back to reality soon enough. Nothing was ever as easy as it was in storybooks, and love never entered the equation. The princess was merely a pawn in his game. He would do whatever was necessary to take the throne. But those blue eyes reminded him of the only things he had ever loved.

He saw those same eyes in the queen’s face when she stood in the chapel to be crowned. They were the color of the sky, but they held none of the openness of the real thing. She beheld no infinite horizon. There was something hidden there that he could not understand.

By the time they met in the ice palace, he thought he understood. Her eyes had been the color of an iceberg underneath the water, lying in wait to bash the hull of an unwary ship. He locked eyes with her again as her ice spikes threatened to impale the duke’s men. Even though she was cornered, he could tell something had changed. Her eyes had seen the open sky, had tasted what it could bring her. She had known freedom, known power, and she was terrified.

He stood in awe of her magic. She reminded him of a great wave on the open ocean, threatening to sweep away all who stood on deck. An unstoppable force of nature with no regard for man. She acted not out of malice, but out of instinct. He didn’t know if he could save her, but he had to try.

“Queen Elsa! Don’t be the monster they fear you are!” And against all odds, she stopped. Something hung between them in the air. Her eyes were the color of the horizon in summer’s everlasting twilight. Hans had not felt this way since he was last at sea, when he had stood at the wheel and sailed toward infinity. Here was an unspeakable power, and he had mastered it with words alone. Visions of the future flooded his mind. The queen and her magic could be his. Together, they could be unstoppable. So when the guard raised his crossbow, he acted in an instant.

When he had carried the queen back to Arendelle, he made certain to put her in a cell with a window. He could not bear the thought of separating her from the azure sky.

-

In his prison cell, Hans was haunted by a dream. It started in Arendelle, on the ice in the midst of a blizzard. He walked through a mist of white, suspended weightless once again. But whereas the sea and sky had seemed infinite, the snow felt like a trap, closing him off from the outside world. No opportunity could exist in this icy void.

The queen was splotch of blue on an otherwise colorless landscape. He heard his own voice echoing across the fjord. You can’t run from this! Your sister is dead because of you! He knew what he had to do. Metal scraped on metal as he drew his sword.

He could see the blue of her eyes as he approached her. This was when he should have known he was dreaming. In reality, her back was to him the whole time. He never saw her face as she awaited the arc of his sword. But he never figured it out until after he awoke. Instead, her gaze burned into him, silently pleading. Whether for death or for salvation, he knew not.

Gone was any satisfaction he may have felt, any forced mania of coming so close to achieving his goal. He moved nearer, sword raised over his head. Her eyes seemed to draw him in, pulling him deeper until he felt he might drown in them. Like Charybdis, the whirlpool which no man could survive. He had thought himself a hero, a Hercules or an Odysseus, a knight from one of his fairy stories. He alone could slay the monster. But in this dream, he realized he had been wrong. He was the monster, Scylla seeking the head of another fearful traveler. He could not stop.

Time seemed to slow as he swung his sword down, down, down. But it met with a statue of blue marble, the frozen form of the Princess Anna. He felt himself flying backwards until he was looking up at the white sky. Here, again, he should have realized he was dreaming. But instead he continued to look up.

He could not tell how much time had passed. As he watched, the sky seemed to brighten. Snow floated upwards, disappearing into the rich blue. The flakes reminded him of dandelion fuzz drifting away. All his wishes turning into dust. He thought he could still see the queen’s eyes staring at him.

Love will thaw. He knew not whence the voice came. He could feel the ice beneath him melting. In the back of his mind, he felt he should be lying on a ship. But there was nothing beneath him but cold water. He knew how to swim, but he could not make his limbs move. He was sinking. Love had been his undoing. His love of power, his love of freedom, his love of the sea and sky. His twisted obsession with the queen. Love had thawed him into a watery grave. And now she would make him pay.

As he slipped down, down, down beneath the waves, he swore he could see the queen above him. Her icy cape covered her head like a veil. Oh Hans, she seemed to say. But her voice held no hint of anger or mockery, only a quiet kind of sadness. The next second, she was gone. He floated weightless beneath the surface of the water. The last thing he saw was the vast expanse of blue.

-

Hans’ life was now confined to this small and drab cell. The days bled into each other as he awaited execution or extradition or something else entirely. Possibly he would just be left there to rot. When he had first come, he had bemoaned the lack of a window. Gradually, he grew thankful that there was no sky to remind him of what he had lost, stoking the fire of his bitterness. Now that the dreams had started, he had never been so grateful to live in a world of grey and brown. If there had been a window, he was certain that the blue sky would drive him mad. It still might if he were to see it on the gallows.

He could not escape the sea so easily. Day after day, he heard the waves breaking against the stone pediment of the castle. He wondered how long it would take them to erode away the granite. The water would rush into his cell, filling it with the smell of the ocean. Perhaps the tides would take his body with them when they ebbed.

“She’s coming for me,” he told the guard who brought him his meal, “She needs to punish me for what I’ve done.”

“The queen? Don’t be stupid, she’s in Arendelle. Anyway, she wouldn’t bother with the likes of you.”

“Not the queen,” he said fervently, “the sea.” But the meal slot had already slammed shut. As he lay listening to the waves, he felt the distinction was immaterial. The queen and the sea were one and the same. She would have him in the end. And so he waited for her to come for him.

At night, he dreamt of drowning in the blue. Upon waking, he took cold comfort in the gray of the stone. He was certain that the next time he saw blue, in the sky, or the sea, or the queen’s eyes, it would be his dying day.

***

Author’s Note: Guys, I messed up. I wrote this entire one-shot themed around blue, and it’s so thematically different from “Blue” by Marina and the Diamonds that I can’t cop a line for a title. My bad. This story certainly owes something to Rebecca by Daphne Du Maurier. Many years ago, I had considered writing a Helsa AU of that story. Perhaps someday I shall. Thank you to you all for reading and for the love you’ve shown my previous piece! <3

#helsa #helsasummerevent #helsasummerevent2020 #frozen #hans #elsa #mentions of hanna #fanfic

[stupidsexyfandom]

In the Study

@helsa-summer-event

Rated T // Drama

Before her coronation gala, Elsa retires to her study, where she receives an unexpected visitor. (Unexpected for her, that is. I’m sure you all know who it’s going to be.)

Written for Prompt #1 of Helsa Summer: “Don’t you dare!” 

The coronation ceremony was over. The diplomats had been presented at court and shuffled off to their rooms to dress for the evening’s ball. The townspeople had dispersed back to their shops and other duties. Queen Elsa finally had a few moments to herself.

To be more accurate, this hour was devoted to the beginnings of her queenly duties. Elsa knew that a monarch’s work never truly stopped, and already her advisors had presented her with several documents that needed signing. Still, she was grateful for the brief respite from the crowds and noise and the feeling of countless eyes on her. Her already-tenuous control had been stretched nearly to the breaking point. This was an opportunity to recuperate and muster strength for the next stage of the festivities.

She sat at the large oak desk that had once been her father’s, perusing the first document that needed her attention. Satisfied with its contents, she removed her gloves and prepared her pen and ink. For the next quarter hour, she was fully engrossed in reading and signing documents. Her concentration was only interrupted when she thought she saw a flicker of movement in the top of her vision.

Looking up, she was surprised to see one of the visiting diplomats silhouetted against the large window across the room. His back was to her as he examined the woodwork, and all she could make out was the sun burnishing the copper tips of his hair. He moves like a fox, too, she thought. She had not heard him come in.

He turned almost instantaneously, and Elsa quickly tightened her slack jaw into a more regal expression. Recognition dawned on her. The Southern Isles. Population: 180,000. Chief exports: oxen and grain. Army adequate. Navy formidable. Prince… Hans, maybe? Number thirteen?

Prince Hans (or whoever he was) crossed the room. Elsa looked up at him, careful to give the impression that she was unbothered by his appearance. He stood over her like cliffs above the sea. It made her uneasy, but she could not bend. Conceal, don’t feel. After so many years, concealing her emotions felt almost like second nature. Unfortunately, not feeling was where the real trouble lay.

“May I help you?” she said, keeping her face impassive. Prince Hans sprung into action, like an automaton whose key had been released. His face lit up and he bowed with a flourish.

“Your Majesty, may I say what an honor it is to meet you at last. I am Prince Hans of the Southern Isles. My father, the king, sends his felicitations.” Elsa blinked a few times. She wanted to ask how he got in there or say that this was highly irregular, but she could not find the words. It would not have mattered if she had, for Prince Hans continued with the force of an avalanche.

“I have a petition to place before you, and I hope that you will give it due consideration. The historic bond between our two nations runs deep, and my father has every hope of its continuance through a new generation.”

Elsa found her voice and said, “If this is a diplomatic matter, please speak to my steward. He will let you know when the crown has decided to receive public petitions.” She inched her hand along the desktop toward her gloves, hoping to slip them on surreptitiously. Her discomfort had caused the temperature to drop slightly, but no snow was falling, for which she was endlessly grateful.

“If this were a diplomatic matter, I would do so. But this request is of a more personal nature.” Oh, such impudence! Prince Hans delicately perched himself on the edge of the desk, leaning slightly towards her. Elsa fought the simultaneous urges to push him back with an icy wind and to crawl under the desk.

Cursed, as always, by a tendency to inaction, Elsa merely said, “What personal matter could we possibly have?” Her voice did not shake, a small victory, and she was nearly able to reach her gloves. A few more seconds and any crisis might be averted. But she was not prepared for what the prince had to say.

“It’s simple, really. I would like to ask you to marry me.”

Elsa did not want to believe what she had just heard. She dropped her pen as a layer of frost radiated out from her hands, coating her gloves and half the papers on the desk. She immediately put her hands in her lap, but it was too late. The foreign prince had seen all. Her anxiety reached a fever pitch, but Prince Hans was unperturbed. He reached out and plucked a rigid envelope from its icy bed, turning it over to examine the patterns of hoarfrost.  

“Ah, so you are not a secret invalid after all. I had wondered. Well, this makes things both easier and more pleasant for me. What say you?” The prince’s tone remained affable, but there was a hard edge in his green eyes that Elsa did not like.

“I have no intention of entertaining marriage proposals at this time. And anyway, I hardly know you,” spluttered Elsa, still reeling.

“What a shame. But that needn’t stand in our way. Plenty of royals marry without ever meeting each other. Is your refusal because of me, personally? It is said that I’m quite handsome, and my kingdom has great wealth. Many diplomatic ties. A strong military, too. We could be quite the powerful allies to an inexperienced queen.” Or powerful enemies. Elsa could feel her magic crackling at the unspoken threat. She gripped the edge of the desk until her knuckles turned white.

Sensing her discomfort, the prince continued, “Arendelle looks to be a fine land. Its fields are rich, and its people are gentle. It seems so peaceful.” It would be a shame if that peace were broken.

“Yes, I could see myself growing quite fond of it. And of you, for that matter,” said Prince Hans, staring down at her. Elsa hated feeling so small and weak. Was not a queen’s duty to be strong for her people? The thought spurred her to action.

“I’ve heard enough,” she said, and stood to call the guards. But Prince Hans was too fast. He was on his feet in an instant and held her arm in an iron grip. He leaned across the desk and pulled her towards him, so their faces were only inches apart. Snow floated in the air around them. Elsa could let this go no further.

“I could skewer you,” she hissed, “I could run you through with ice before you even knew it was happening.” She brought her right hand up to rest upon his chest. Prince Hans only laughed.

“Hardly. How would you explain my body? A corpse full of icicles in a snow drift inside your study? In June? Unless you want your secret to be known…” But he loosened his hold, and Elsa pulled away.

“Anyway,” said the prince, straightening his jacket and adjusting his glove, “physical violence is much more my brothers’ style.”

The snow had slowed to a gentle flurry. Elsa considered her options. He was right that she could not simply alert the guards. Her guardsmen were trusted to the highest degree, but the visitors for the coronation introduced too many unknown variables. Too many opportunities for information to spread through benign gossip. And that was without considering what malice the prince might introduce.

Elsa said, “Even if I were amenable to marrying you, the council would never allow it. They want to see me get my footing as queen in my own right before I marry. How can I convince my people to trust a stranger as king when they do not yet know me as queen?” That was a blatant lie. The council had specifically briefed Elsa on all the eligible bachelors attending the coronation, including Prince Hans. But Elsa had been lying since she was eight years old, and she had honed her art like fired steel.

“I’m a patient man, your Majesty. I don’t mind the wait. I have waited many years for your coronation, why should I be troubled by a few more?”

“Even when the council deems it prudent for me to marry, I highly doubt they will consider your suit.” Another lie, but this one seemed to get Prince Hans’ attention. Elsa continued, “Arendelle is indeed a fine kingdom, and it deserves a fine king. One who embodies power, wealth, and status. Not a king thirteenth in line in his own court. A king who is strong in his right, not a mere leftover.” For a fraction of a second, Elsa thought the Prince Hans looked genuinely hurt. But the next moment he had returned to his faux affable manner.

“Oh, Queen Elsa, you wound me. So, your answer remains no?”

“You know that it does.” Prince Hans turned toward the door.

“Alas, you would have made a lovely bride. But no matter! There are other routes to Arendelle’s throne.” He placed a hand on the doorknob, turning his head back toward Elsa. “There are two heirs, are there not?” The temperature dropped sharply, and the snow fell fast and thick.

“You wouldn’t dare!” said Elsa, voice barely above a horrified whisper.

“Wouldn’t I? Princess Anna is so very pretty. Nearly as pretty as you. And I imagine she would be a much more willing companion.”

“Keep away from my sister!” Elsa spat amid a howling wind, “She’ll never marry you! I’ll make sure of it!”

“Not even if she thinks it’s true love? You know, I ran into her at the docks earlier. Such a sweet girl. So naïve, so trusting. A girl with so much love to give, and nobody around to receive it. It’s a pity.”

“You don’t know the first thing about either of us!” But Elsa knew that the gale she had created testified otherwise.

“I know that I could make her love me like that,” he snapped his gloved fingers, “because she is so eager to be loved. Desperate, even. I doubt that you could convince her otherwise. You, the ice queen of a sister she barely knows.”

“If she will not listen to me as her sister, she will respect me as her monarch! You forget, Prince Hans, that while Anna is next in line for the throne, I am still sitting on it.”

“Oh, you wouldn’t dare,” Prince Hans chuckled, “not when I hold your secret in the palm of my hand. Do you think your people will trust you as queen when they learn of your unholy power? You know, it is not so many years ago that there were witch hunts in this county. No, I think you will look favorably upon a match between me and your sister.”

“I will not!”

“I’m afraid you don’t have a choice in the matter. Unless, of course, you consent to marry me yourself. I’m sure the council would accept a little prodding from their sovereign ruler on the matter.”

“Never! I would die first!”

“Ah well. Suit yourself.” And with a devilish grin, he was gone.

Elsa sat down at the desk and slumped over her arms. It took her several minutes to realize that her teardrops were frozen to her face. Poor Anna. Elsa did not know how to protect her from this. Either she would fall prey to the devious prince, or she would learn the truth about what happened all those years ago. Either might break her completely.

Daring. That was the heart of it. She stood at a crossroads, paralyzed by fear, unable to take any action. Once again, she could do nothing to save her sister. She would hurt Anna again because Elsa was a coward and Prince Hans was not.

***

Author’s Note: I’ve never personally subscribed to the idea that Hans is a sociopath, but it’s a fun sandbox to play in. There’s something so juicy about writing a shameless schemer of a villain. Thanks to everyone who made it this far, and I hope you’ve enjoyed my fic. Be on the lookout for more Helsa Summer fics, provided I can keep my act together that long. :)

#helsa #helsasummerevent #helsasummerevent2020 #frozen #hans #elsa #fanfic

[stupidsexyfandom]

who cares i’ll do it anyway part 1