A/N: Bit of a crossover between Frozen and The Little Mermaid. And by the way, Frozen and The Little Mermaid aren't mine, rather they belong to Disney. That's not my circus, those aren't my monkeys. Only this mess is...

Her Royal Majesty, Queen Elsa of Arendelle,

Mere words fail to express the deep sorrow and regret we feel regarding our youngest son's recent actions against not only your Crown, but your own darling sister. We are truly stunned that such a kind, gentle, and intelligent young man could be responsible for such a coup d'état. We pray you and your kingdom may find peace and understanding in your hearts, grow and thrive through the adversity you have faced, and embrace the bright future before you. Not for the sake of Hans, but that genuinely you deserve not to suffer with the heavy weight of hatred clouding your thoughts and actions.

It is with our own heavy heart that we write to inform you that the ship returning Hans to us faced a storm at sea, resulting in severe damage and the loss of life. We feel obligated to share that Hans was among those that were lost. Word was received that the port-side brig Hans was confined to sustained the brunt of the damage; it was as the ship was secured after the storm the damage was discovered…unfortunately Hans' body was not recovered. It is often said that King Triton has at times a vengeful heart and can be quick to anger; we mention this not to elicit your sympathy or to persuade your thoughts, but to offer peace regarding his fate.

With Deepest Regards,

TM King Anders and Queen Adella of the Southern Isles

Inked darkness seeped into every corner of Elsa's vision, eyes blurred and stinging with the water and salt that surrounded her. It was the sea she tasted on her lips; the sea which caused the burn in her chest as it deprived her of air. Her limbs grew heavy retaliating against her attempts to coordinate a stroke, desperate to find her way upward through the current and away from the disoriented crush of water around her. It was too dark to ascertain which direction was the surface. If she paused to focus, Elsa would realize that the only sound she could hear was the deafening rush of blood through her veins during these last few moments.

Eventually she calms, exhausted and lost, allowing herself to remain suspended in this watery limbo as she awaits death. She considers this - this resignation, destined fate. No longer is there fear and panic. There had been, it had overtaken her while she was still aboard the ship, prior to being swept away by the wind and waves. The ship likely destroyed in the storm and subsequent explosion. The icy caress of the sea does not chill her, but rather enticed a sense of peace.

Papa…Mama…

Elsa feels a presence, as if they are with her, providing comfort and reassurance that this would be okay. She is to be claimed by the sea and join eternally with them.

The tightness and burning in her chest intensifies. Sounds in her ears play tricks on her, the currents enveloping her take on a melody of their own - irresistible and calling to her. She feels as if she moves purposely - twisting and turning almost in time to the sounds like a strange dance, her hair loose and floating around her like a halo to frame her. Elsa slips towards unconsciousness, succumbing to her fate, when she feels a warmth envelop her.

She would later recall a sense of something – no. Someone. A large hand brushing hair from her face, a strong arm circling her waist and pulling her flush against something firm and safe. A sense of security and protection she had not felt since she was a small child. Elsa hears songs; they grow louder. Calling her by name, a magic and voice familiar and filling her ears. The magic calls to her offering reassurance that she would be kept safe, her every desire fulfilled. Lovely words, impossible promises to a desperate woman whispered from the waves.

Then there is a gentle pressure on her lips, like a lover's first kiss, tentative and sweet. Then a second, lingering, coaxing. With the third comes a large hand tangling fingers into her hair to hold her in place as a gentle coaxing tongue encourages her to receive more. She gasps, allowing entrance and matching the surge with hunger. At once she feels a maddening rush of comfort and relief from the pains of drowning, as well as an overwhelming sense of desire and need crash over her. A magic snatching her from death and claiming her, now his.