Authors note: Alright guys, settle in for the long haul if you want to stick with this story. I'm gonna say that I've actually already got about half of it done, so I should stay consistent with my updates, but you should know that there's a lot to this story. It's not super plot heavy, but there's still a lot that I want to fit into it. I've already hit almost 29,000 words and I have so much more that I want to happen... Anyway, this is going to be a mature story. There will probably be some language, and plenty of angst to go around. It's not a kids story, but I feel like most of the stories involving these two are not kids stories.

Moving on, the more you review, the more muse I'll have! Please enjoy~


Elsa stood at the prow of the great ship, watching a huge black snake come into view. In reality, she knew that it was no serpent. The castle that belonged to the Southern Isles was long and winding, made of a black obsidian rock. The appearance was intimidating, to say the least. But it was also her last hope. Arendelle's last hope.

After her coronation, being revealed as a powerful sorceress had not bode well for Arendelle. Her people became distrustful and she'd heard rumblings of a rebellion. Her allies pulled away, leaving Arendelle weak and running low on funds. Not to mention, without allies, they were only a blink away from war. Anyone could easily come in and take the kingdom as their own. Arendelle was small, but a crucial spot for trade and wealthy gem in the right hands. Which apparently, weren't hers.

Elsa was left with only one option to save her kingdom. She had to marry someone of power from another country to create a tie. That bond would give her a sure ally, and reassure her people to know that she alone did not make all the decisions. People might begin trading once more, believing that there was someone else at her side in Arendelle. Unfortunately, most other kingdoms preferred to simply wait her out until Arendelle was at it's weakest point, then swoop in and take it all for themselves.

The only positive response she'd received was from the King of the Southern Isles. It sickened her to even think of, being as it was the family of Hans. But surely he had only been the bad apple of the family. His father had send profuse apologies for the actions of his son, assuring her that Hans would be well-punished and they had known nothing of his scheme. In any case, it didn't matter if she did have to marry another like Hans. If it was the only way to keep Arendelle from war, she would do it. Besides, it wasn't like she would have to marry Hans himself. That could be too far, even for Arendelle.

Once the ship docked, it wasn't long before she received a royal escort. Given temporary chambers to freshen up, she was granted audience with the king during dinner. Under other circumstances, she would have chafed at such rudeness, but she simply held her head high and accepted the opportunity that she had as she entered the room.

King Westergaard didn't look much like Hans. Of course she could see the family resemblance, but it was obvious that Hans took after his mother, a meek and quiet woman at the king's side. Well, he took after her in looks, at least. His other twelve brothers were there, a good amount of them with wives at their sides. They sported a variety of different looks. Most of them held the elegant charm and stately looks Hans had, but a few were less than appealing.

Entering at the far end of the room, before a great table laden with food, Elsa gave a polite curtsey. They were already eating and no place was offered to her. "Your Majesty." She said, voice clear and strong, not giving away the shudder she felt inside. After a life of solitude in her room, the idea of speaking to a stranger still terrified her, even a year and a half later. The King lounged in his raised chair, casually eating and smacking his lips on his food. He waved her on with his hand, as though he could hardly spare the time.

Elsa bit back a tart comment, knowing that she needed to make an excellent impression. Briefly, her eyes roamed over the twelve men, wondering which might be her fate. Would they be kind, or as manipulative and greedy as Hans? She took a breath, refocusing her mind.

"I am here regarding your summons. A treaty, between our kingdoms through marriage." She spoke, praying to the gods there was no tremble in her voice to betray her nerves. The king looked up in surprise.

"Queen Elsa, of Arendelle?" He asked.

Elsa gritted her teeth and responded tersely, "Yes." She had been announced upon entering the room, but everything he did spoke that he was putting himself in a position of power above her. He was subtly reminding her that she needed him, not the other way around. And she had no choice but to let him. He appeared to think for a long moment, hand reaching up to stroke his beard. At the opposite end of the table, a squabble broke out between two of his sons, yet he paid them no mind. Elsa was beginning to wonder how someone as refined and regal as Hans had come out of the mess.

"You came for marriage?" King Westergaard finally asked.

Elsa once again bit back an angry storm of emotions. "Yes, M'Lord." She replied simply, humbly bowing her head. He wore a pleased expression at the show of submission, glancing over his table of twelve sons.

"I wish I could help, especially such a lovely lady as yourself. But it seems I just promised my last eligible son to another maiden."

Elsa's heart sank at the words, and she blinked back tears. She had failed. Arendelle would fall and the fault lay directly on her shoulders.

"Father, if I may." One of the men spoke up. He was older, and eyes were clear, lacking the dull meanness she saw in most of the others. Though he bore a striking resemblance to Hans, Elsa found that she instantly liked him.

"Yes, Lars?" The king asked, sounding altogether bored. The prince paused a moment, obviously carefully considering what he would say next. He cast a cautious glance to Elsa before turning back to his father.

"There is one other who is not promised nor wed to another woman."

A flash of ice spiked through her and Elsa shifted to cover the patch of ice that had formed beneath her. It was all she could do to keep from making it snow in the grand room. The King looked almost as surprised at the suggestion. But it was the sort of surprise as though he had forgotten. Oh, I have another son? That's right, the evil one.

"The throwaway?" He asked, and Elsa felt a streak of confusion at the name. It was unusual, even for one who had sullied the family name.

"I don't think-"

She was cut off by Lars, who simply began to speak over her. "He has been a disappointment, yes. And I know as well as the rest that we could easily take Arendelle once she is weak and have her for our own."

A white hot rage simmered down deep to hear her kingdom spoken about in such a manner, in her presence no less. The air took on a distinct chill. Lars continued on without paying her any notice.

"But Arendelle is far from us and is more work to conquer and run than she's worth. If we allow the Queen to marry Hans, it will establish a strong tie between the two kingdoms without us losing anything but a common slave here. Arendelle can pay us a hearty tribute and we shall reap the rewards without having to fight with other countries for the right." The Prince put up a compelling argument, even Elsa had to admit. The King appeared to mull the thought over, while she stood and stared dumbly, mind racing to process everything that was happening.

Marry Hans? And had his brother called him a common slave? Obviously the idea of marrying a man that had tried to kill both her and her sister entirely repulsed her. But what other choice did she have? Images flashed through her mind of Arendelle at war. Her people enslaved… Elsa steeled herself, drawing her shoulders high. If it was between her and her kingdom, the choice was obvious. She had to protect her people first, even if that meant marrying a man that sickened her.

"Bring him in." The King said suddenly. Elsa's resolve nearly failed. But she managed to stay still as the two that had argued earlier lept to their feet, muttering something about the stables and heading out the door. The minutes that followed were mercilessly slow. The room was filled with the sound of the King sucking on his food and his sons who followed in suit. Her nerves frayed with every passing second, dreading the sight of Hans' face again. Footsteps and the sound of cruel laughter finally signaled their return. Hans was practically thrown into the room, landing on his hands and knees.

Elsa nearly didn't recognize him. His hair had grown out so it fell into his eyes and a patchy beard had sprouted. His clothes were that of a slave and he was covered in filth. Yet he lacked the bent and defeated back of a true slave. His shoulders were straight and though his head was down in submission, every muscle was taut. No, he was beaten but not yet broken.

Quickly following him came his brothers, shouting insults. Just as Hans attempted to rise, the first planted a hearty kick to his stomach and he fell to the side, spitting blood. He started to rise again and the other kicked him in the head, laughing coldly. Bile rose up in Elsa's throat to see such cruelty, even towards a man she hated. She looked up at the King, expecting him to put a stop to it. He looked on with disinterest and mild amusement.

"You have a visitor, boy." The sneered words were spoken with such disgust, Elsa recoiled to hear them.

"Go on then, brother." One of the two that had gone to fetch him grabbed Hans by the arm and tossed him forward. He stumbled, but nearly gained his feet. Until a still seated brother suck out a leg and tripped him. Hans fell to the floor and apparently laid there a moment too long, for a glass goblet was thrown at him, shattering over his head and leaving a gash in his skull. The room erupted into laughter and various food items were tossed at him as well. He rose to his feet and she caught a glimpse in his eyes for the first time.

His perfect mask was gone and the first thing she saw was a flash of surprise which she assumed to be because of her presence. The second thing was unbridled anger, so intense that it rocked her to her core. Then the contact was broken as yet another brother stood and took Hans' momentary distraction as an opportunity to send him flying with a powerful hit. From there, he didn't regain his feet. Time after time, he was kicked down as he struggled forward.

Elsa could only stare on in repulsion at the sight before her, shocked at such a display of hate and anger. Surely even the death sentence was kinder than what he was forced to endure. Finally, he made it to her feet and was let to breathe for a moment. Elsa just stood, unsure of how to react, watching him pant for air.

"Stand." She finally spoke softly, realizing that he was waiting for a command. Slowly, he rose to one knee.

"Yes Hans, stand before the Queen." One of his brothers snarled, lurching forward and shoving him down, grinding his heel into the back of Hans' head. He stepped back with a laugh and Hans began to rise again. Another stepped forward, but Elsa held a hand out, signalling him to stop. The room fell quiet and Hans finally managed to stand, nearly toppling once more as he attempted a small bow.

"Your Majesty." His eyes were blank once more and he smiled at her. With blood dripping through his beard and dirt covering his face, heavens help her, it was a gruesome sight. Elsa did her best to keep her expression unreadable. She nodded to him.

"Hello, Hans."


He thought he had covered his surprise quite well. Still, he wasn't sure what reason there could possible be for the Queen of Arendelle to pay him a visit, of all people.

"Come to make sure I'm receiving sufficient punishment?" Hans questioned, somehow managing to smile wider. The action pulled his face tight and make pain spike from one of the cuts on his cheek. She was staring at him with a blank expression, her violet eyes unreadable. As always, she danced right on the border of terrifying and beautiful.

"Well," His father spoke, but Hans didn't bother to turn around. The King wouldn't speak to him if he didn't have to, he was most likely speaking to Elsa, who hadn't responded to Hans' question yet. Not that he expected her to. Her eyes flicked away from Hans, he assumed to look at the King.

"Will you marry him?"

You could have knocked Hans over with a feather. He struggled to keep his face blank, but feared surprise was plainly evident on it. How could it not be? Why would Elsa offer him the very thing he'd been after in the first place? Marriage into the royal line of Arendelle. He stifled a streak of hope at the thought of escaping from the Southern Isles. Away from the taunting and hatred of his brothers. He could care less about the throne anymore, he just wanted out. But he carefully guarded his expression, not wanting to show any hope at the thought.

Elsa's face was a mix of emotion. There was curiosity, disgust, pity. He was indignant at the thought of her pitying him. He did not want nor need her pity. He didn't want anyone's, but especially not hers.

"I wish to speak with Hans in private." Her voice rang clear and confident, but Hans held back a snort. His father took orders from none. Of course, Elsa's icy look alone was enough to freeze a heart and Hans heard his brothers shift uncomfortably. They all knew what she was, what she could do.

"Surely it is not too much to ask that a woman speak momentarily with a man before agreeing to a betrothal." Her voice held a soothing diplomacy now that surprised even him. Her face took on a softer look, a sweet smile that said she was nothing more than a nervous woman.

Well, He thought. I guess you learned a thing or two from me, Queen of Arendelle. He dared a look to his father, who appeared conflicted. On one side, Hans could see that he clearly wanted to state his power and demand an answer that moment. On the other, he was swayed by Elsa's soft look and apparent meekness that appealed to his more masculine side. A smile twitched at Hans' mouth, appreciating the way that she had twisted him so quickly.

"I can assure you, it will be just a moment, Your Grace." She curtsied before him, and the look on his face told Hans that she had clearly won. The King waved a hand to signal a servant that quickly scurried to his side.

"Escort the Queen and my useless heap of a son to a more private room. They wish to speak, before agreeing to a marriage. A female's emotions, you know." Hans met his father's eyes for a brief moment, just long enough to see the cold hate that resided there. He looked away, accustomed to the sight. His relation between him and his family hadn't suffered much after returning. They had always felt like so about him, now they simply had a reason to show it plainly. Quietly, with his head bowed, Hans allowed himself to be escorted to a separate room with the Queen.

He heard her quietly dismiss the servant and they were left in silence. "You've changed." Her soft voice surprised him and he glanced up.

"It would seem so, Your Eminence." His voice dripped with thick sarcasm, full of the bitterness that had festered for a year and a half. Longer than that, really.

Elsa stiffened immediately at his words, regaining her regal posture. "You know why I'm here now, I suppose." She sounded so stiff and formal it almost made him laugh. Though she was every bit the perfect queen as ever, not a hair nor movement out of place, everything about her bespoke of a deep discomfort. No doubt, the source of which was from his presence, which he took great pleasure in. In some ways, that was his revenge. He had little reason to be angry at her, to be fair. Besides the fact that she had surprised him at every turn and forced him to turn to measures he had never intended.

"Oh, I know the purpose. However, I am baffled to think of what would drive you to such extreme measures. You must have reached a point of desperation to turn to me." He looked on with amusement, glancing over her appearance for the first time. Her hair was once again refined to a tight bun, with a few elaborate braids woven through it. Her dress was a deep midnight blue, with occasional dashes of bright gems throughout it, sparkling like stars. He had to wonder if it was a gown of her own creation, or one sewn for her. Part of him was tempted to reach out and feel the material to see if it would melt between his fingers, but he withheld.

She rose her head, obviously trying to keep her dignity about her, though her gloved hands trembled at her side. "Arendelle is weak, since my powers were discovered. Many doubt my leadership and the kingdoms around us do not wish to trade with me solely at the throne. To regain my kingdom's faith in me as a ruler, I must marry and create a tie with another." She began to pace as she spoke, talking faster and faster.

"Obviously, you would be my last choice. However, your father was the only one to respond positively to the inquiries I sent out. I came in person, hoping to secure an alliance with the Southern Isles, despite my distaste for the idea of creating ties with your family. It was the only way to save my kingdom, you see. But your father has promised his last acceptable son to another, leaving me with you as my only option. The thought is repulsive, to say the least. You would be a mere consort, my husband and in name only. You will never have the throne, you will never hold the title of King. This is only for the good of Arendelle and to ally with the Southern Isles." She was stern and swift in her explanation.

Hans only heard one thing. He was her only option. He still remembered almost those exact same words when Anna had been in danger. The other nobles had told him that he couldn't go after her, that he was Arendelle's last hope if something happened to her. He felt the same surge of pleasure at the thought of being needed. The fate of an entire kingdom rested in his hands, it was almost too good to be true. He regarded her coldly, enjoying all too well the power that he had, if just for a moment. Of course he had to accept, anything to get away from the Southern Isles on a permanent basis. It wasn't how he wanted it, what he had always dreamed about, but he would take it.

"I have some conditions of my own, if I'm to agree to such a thing." He said, a smirk dancing across his lips at the opportunity that had been handed to him. Elsa's back, if it were even possible, became even more ramrod straight. Her glare alone was icy enough to freeze him solid.

"You're hardly in a position to be making demands." She stated coldly. Her eyes betrayed no emotion other than a distinct anger barely concealed underneath it all. Hans brushed the hair out of his eyes, noticing for the first time the sharp pain in the back of his head where the goblet had shattered. It would form a goose egg by morning, to be sure. It only served to make her point, he wasn't in the place to be making demands. That didn't mean he wouldn't.

"Be that as it may," He began, walking casually closer to her. "I still have a few things. First, I would like to hear you ask me with a please. Second, I may not live the life of a king and I have come to terms with that. But neither will I live as a servant and be put in the servants quarters and made to do heavy labor. I want a comfortable place to stay and respectable work." He thought those to be entirely reasonable demands. He had considered requesting that get down on her knees to ask him, but decided that would be pushing it too far. The first request was only for his own amusement and he didn't think it was so much, but she was staring at him like it was an impossible request.

Elsa began to pace again, wringing her hands together while the air took on a chill. Hans actually grew worried at that. He wanted a moment to feel smug, but that wasn't worth being buried in snow. He remained silent, a tense expression on his face as he waited for the result of Elsa's pacing. She finally came to a stop in front of him and the chill in the air grew stronger.

"Prince Hans…" The words were spoken in pain and her eyes were fixed on his chest. Hans took her by the chin, lifting it up so that she was looking directly at him.

"My eyes are up here." He told her, ignoring the cold that spread through his fingers at the action. She stared up at him, eyes wide as saucers until his dropped his hand for fear of the pure anger in her eyes.
"Please. For the good of Arendelle, marry me." She spoke through teeth gritted together so hard it was a wonder she could form words. He simply nodded at her, a smile spreading across his face once more.

"Of course I will." Finally. He would escape from the Southern Isles. He would lead a life, if not of luxury, of comfort. He would have some amount of power, and none of his brothers fists would come in contact with his face. It wasn't ruling, as he'd always dreamed of. He knew that he would make an excellent king.

Elsa sighed, head bowing in the picture of defeat. "Thank you." She practically whispered. Hans almost reached out a hand to touch her arm in comfort, but refrained. She didn't need or want his comfort, she would most likely hate his touch. That, he could work with. Hans knew hate much better than he knew comfort, so he took her hand and tucked it into the crook of his elbow as any loving man would do with his fiancee.

"We must go share our happy news." He said, pasting a pleased smile on his face. Elsa ripped away from him violently, stepping several paces away.

"I will inform your father. I will also inform him that you must receive a bath and change of clothes before leaving. Returning to Arendelle with you at my side will be humiliating enough, I will not have you looking like a filthy slave." She tossed her hair back and left the room before he could utter a protest. The quick words had done their job in cutting him down to size and he felt about as tall as an inchworm with her biting words.

Hans chose not to follow her out, taking a seat in one of the opulent chairs that sat in the room and waiting. A servant would come for him soon enough, and he would be back in his finery once more.