The Prisoner and the Princess (a Hansanna Production – Post-movie storyline)

Chapter 1

The snows were coming early this year and Elsa had made rapid promises that it had nothing to do with her; that this was simply the Earth falling dormant and sleepy a little early. But Anna, who had spent time in the snow and ice in summer leant against the window-frame and frowned at the little snowflakes plastering themselves against the panes only to melt off and solidify as pure ice. She had been looking forward to a little more time in the sun. She did love her sister but she much preferred the sun when she could run around without being bundled in layers and layers of clothing. And – well she hated to admit it – she was petrified about being married in the spring of next year. The entire kingdom was abuzz with it and her stomach only did flips of nervousness around Kristoff. After everything that had happened she was thinking too much about love and…the one that made her question it entirely.

A gust blowing fiercely outside, she pulled her wrap around her tighter almost feeling it through the walls. But as cold as she was she couldn't imagine how those in the dungeons felt with their stone walls and lack of warm sheets to wrap in. She imagined it was unpleasant. She imagined that he was down there shaking 'As he deserves to!' She argued to herself internally. True, they had sent him back to the Southern Isles as a service to him knowing that there he would only get a slap on the wrist and then return to his post. But a month after they had shipped him there he had returned on another ship, stripped of his princely clothing and his eyes carrying a heavy weight. A parcel addressed to Elsa from the royalty of the Southern Isles was given by the head of the ship and Elsa hadn't shared it with Anna – but that wouldn't satiate the red-head's curiosity. When Elsa had fallen asleep Anna went into her domain and read the letter that had almost put her into tears.

Queen Elsa of Arandelle

The fine script wrote out in thick inked letters in a beautiful blue ink, seemingly the hand of a woman.

We return our shamed son to Arandelle as a show of solidarity between our nations. His actions as a dignitary in your country is shameful to the name of the Westergaards and we will no longer consider him one of our creed. As such, do not treat him as a royal and do as you do to normal prisoners in Arandelle. We ask you not to allow the actions of this individual –

Individual?! He's your son!

-to bring bad tidings between our nations. We hope upon his return to Arandelle and subsequent imprisonment our nations' relations will remain amiable.

All the best wishes from the Kingdom of the Southern Isles and its people,

Carolyn Westergaard, Queen of the Southern Isles

Anna's hand covered her mouth at the time at the realization that Hans had been disowned by his own family – but it wasn't much of the shock. It was the terminology used about him. The shame, the individual, the concern with the nation instead of her own son – and they called Elsa the ice queen!

Holding the cover around her tighter she walked away from the window. All this snow was making her think too much. Too many memories were tied with the snow and this cold. Everything that had gone wrong – meeting the man she would be married to in just a few months – and everything that had become wonderful – her new relationship with her sister and gaining a family again. But she couldn't lie to herself and let everything that had happened disappear. Hans – with all his faults and all that he had done- was her first love. They said you never forget your first love and he was haunting her. Sometimes when sitting with Kristoff and looking up at the moon she would look over and expect to see Hans sitting there smiling at her and be surprised to see the blonde, bulky man who she claimed had stolen her heart. In some ways he had – true – he was kind and funny and made her feel special –

But then again so was…

She shook her head and stomped her foot. No! She had to stop thinking about him! She was going to be Mrs….what was Kristoff's last name again? Dammit.

She sighed and sat down on a bench in her room, thumbing through an old book and absently looking at the words, trying to distract herself.

If I could only know why he did it-

"It was then that the nation of Arandelle was supposed to be founded by-"

If I could only go back in time and not take Elsa's glove off we could have been married by now-

"The founding of the islands to the north and south of Arandelle were by sailors expecting not to find anything more than fishing spo-"

If I could just see him again!

She slammed the book shut and looked up. What an idea! She could answer her questions if she saw him again and asked him what was in her heart then everything in her aching heart would be sorted out and marrying Kristoff in the spring wouldn't make her panic any longer! 'I am a genius!' She giggled to herself as she stood and removed her cover. Getting to the dungeons in this cold would be somewhat of a pain considering she'd have to cross the courtyard in this snow and at this hour without being spotted.

Placing on her dark green coat she laced up her leather boots. She wasn't known to be patient and when she had an idea in her head it had to be now. Right. Now. She fastened the ribbon that held the cloak on her shoulders tight and pulled up the hood. She would be sneaking past the stable-hand's chambers where Kristoff lived and slept (He was welcomed to live in the castle but he argued vehemently that it wouldn't be until their marriage that he would move in – Anna half-thought it was because Sven lived in the horse stables and Kristoff wanted to be close to his reindeer) and she didn't need to be seen on the way to the dungeon and be asked where she was going by her fiancé.

Making sure she had on her darkest clothing (which she had so few of) she slipped out of the castle without being spotted by the staff (scarce at this time so that they could sleep as well) she went into the freezing cold air. It was only October and there was snow on the ground and more falling. She held the cloak to her shoulders tighter and made her way out. Shuddering as she crossed the courtyard and neared the ominous stone tower that was the dungeon. Stepping into a snow-mound she hadn't expected she let out a slight squeak and quickly covered her mouth. Looking over she saw a light in the stable-hand's home turn on and a shadow looking around.

"Probably just a mouse. Turn the light out." She heard Alex, a fellow stage-hand, grumble sleepily.

"I could have sworn it was a voice…" Kristoff said quickly.

"Nobody would be outside in this weather." Alex fought irritably.

"Mmm…alright." Kristoff agreed quickly, sounding unsure of the explanation but also too drowsy to care. Shutting the light from the lantern off.

Being much more careful Anna approached the stone structure that composed the dungeons. The guards would be inside, so she would have to enter quietly, but with this weather they would be in the relaxing room for the soldiers with the fireplace and game-tables. Their cells were so well-composed that there was really no need for guards. It just made the place feel more secure. There was no way to dig your way out of the cells with their stone walls and floorsAlthough it made the place seem very….dreary, Anna thought, looking over the building sadly. So this is where he lives. This is what he traded a palace for – well he didn't trade it – Anna corrected herself as she opened the iron door and looked around. Her guess about the guards being right as she stepped inside. He was sent here to maintain nation-relationships rather than earning a retribution at home.

Walking to where the prisoners were kept she quickly took the key-ring off the wall and unlocked the door, taking one of the copies with her just in case and walking inside. Immediately she was hit with the odor of the prison. The unmistakable smell of blood which confused her because in the torch-lights she didn't see a drop of it. Her nose stung with every breath and she nearly ran out.

But I need to know why! It can't just be because of a kingdom. There has to be something deeper than that!

Reading the names on the plates of the doors she found the one she was looking for. H. Westergaard. Looking in she saw a silhouette of a man sitting in a barred window ledge and looking outside at the small flurries. His pants torn and ragged up to his ankles and his arms resting on his bent legs. He was very tall and the length of the window didn't much help. She would fit perfectly but he was so much….more-er…she remembered. She remembered how when dancing with him she thought he was so much more-er than her. His large shoulders and strong chest. He was so big. So muscular so…

Not this…

She inhaled seeing his once strong shoulders slumped in defeat, but an air of defiance still surrounded him. His deep wine-colored hair shining in what little moonlight there was. Unlocking the door she stepped inside, noticing how he didn't bother to look anymore. He probably thought she was just a guard come to fill his water pitcher or give him some bread. Some prisoners could request books and he was probably one of them she was sure of it. But seeing him there she just held her breath and stuck her back to the door.

Oh my GOD What am I doing?! This man tried to kill me! Well not so much tried to kill me I mean he didn't put the ice in my heart or cut off my head or anything but he knew I would die without true love's kiss and he just left me there to die- does that count as trying to kill someone?! But if he didn't love me to begin with and he did kiss me I would have died anyways…but he locked the door and… I guess that means trying to kill someone and he did try to kill my sister and-

She stopped thinking the moment she saw his head turning and his emerald eyes look at her, gazing into her eyes. It was almost as if he was expecting her with his nonchalance. He didn't move or bother to even raise an eyebrow. He remained perfectly stoic, as if he didn't recognize her. Did he forget her? No, how could he? She was half the reason he was here…but he wasn't even moving. He could attack her right now. Or jump up in surprise. But he just sat there and his heavy gaze made her heart pound heavily. His lips went into his usual confident grin despite the rags he was wearing and his predicament, before slowly spreading.

"Hello, Anna."

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