Oneshot written for Helsa Week on Tumblr. Day 2: Like Fire and Ice
Elsa woke with a gasp, feeling a surge of panic at the silence. It was too quiet, which was somewhat disconcerting considering the fact that she hadn't had a full night's sleep in nearly a month. Turning her head, she noticed that the other half of the bed was quite empty, which was also strange since her husband was most likely the soundest sleeper in Arendelle. The man could snore through the apocalypse and sleep the day away if she'd let him. Fortunately for the young King consort, his wife was an early riser and made sure he rose at a decent hour.
She sat up in the bed, rubbing the sleep from her eyes and letting her loose braid fall over her shoulder. Glancing out the window, Elsa could just make out the first rays of sunlight coming over the mountains and glittering across the fjord. She must have been sleeping longer than she'd thought. Noticing an amber glow coming from the hearth, she pulled her lavender dressing gown over her night dress and dragged herself out of the bed, nearly groaning at the soreness in her limbs.
She stopped at the sight of him sitting before the fire, cross legged, his auburn head lowered making her wonder if he'd fallen asleep that way. As she drew closer, she realized he wasn't asleep at all, but rather gazing reverently down into his arms, where his daughter was sleeping. "I didn't want to wake you," he told Elsa without looking up.
"Was she fussing?" She inquired; easing herself down onto the plush rug beside him and touching the infant's tiny foot, running the pad of her thumb along the perfectly rounded little toes.
"No," he replied quietly, sighing, "It's just…since she was born, I've realized that one day she's going to ask us how we met. And I don't know what to tell her." Green eyes met her own. "What can I ever say, Elsa? I plotted to kill your mother and steal her throne and left your aunt for dead before being disowned by my family—" Elsa stopped him by putting her hand on his arm, feeling a rush of affection for him.
Before she'd given birth, Elsa had been terrified that she wouldn't know how to love her child. She'd spent her life in isolation, too afraid to let her parents show her affection. How could someone so emotionally stunted ever be a good parent herself? Before she'd fallen for her former enemy; a man who'd tried to kill her and steal her crown, Elsa hadn't been able to even imagine loving anyone as much as she loved Anna. It seemed like one would simply not have enough room in their heart for more than one person, or two at most, but then she'd grown closer to Kristoff and to Olaf and even Sven, but it still wasn't the same as the love she had for her sister.
Until Hans.
Falling in love had been the most frightening thing Elsa had ever experienced, because she had been guarded for so long, that she couldn't imagine leaving herself that vulnerable, especially to someone who had tried to murder her and had hurt her sister. In the end, surprisingly, at her sister's urging, Elsa had given in and had followed her heart (much to her advisors' dismay). Thankfully, it had been a wise move on her part, and the kingdom had welcomed the prince with open arms. It had even strangely helped the reputation of Arendelle and forced the Southern Isles into an unsteady alliance with the kingdom, which had steadily increased trade that had been slow since Arendelle broke ties with Weselton.
Even more than that though, it had been almost a relief to have someone to share the burden with, and despite his former attempt at assassination, Hans was extraordinarily adept at running a country. He had a natural flair for economics; he'd served in his country's navy as an Admiral and had a keen eye for politics while Elsa found she had an easy way with people which helped immensely in foreign affairs. In just over one year of marriage, she had hosted diplomats of several different nations and had held five grand balls. She had secured alliances with Thornbury, the kingdom her mother had been born in, Corona, which was where her aunt was queen, and she'd recently hosted another very young king and queen from a small kingdom just south of Arendelle, which had been crucial in securing an trade agreement since they were in dire need of ice as it was warmer there.
"All she needs to know is that sometimes, Fate has other plans for us." Using the tips of her fingers, she turned his face to hers, meeting his eyes. "We can't always explain why things happen the way they do, but I truly believe everything works out the way it's supposed to." Her eyes fell to the sleeping baby, who was blissfully asleep. "She is proof of that."
"It haunts me, Elsa," he confessed in a ragged voice. "Not just the past…but the future." He fixed his gaze back on the baby. "Born of Flame and Snow…with ice and fire combining." His brows furrowed. "That's her."
"We cannot spend our entire life worrying about what-ifs and maybes, Hans," Elsa sighed, scooting closer to him. "Maybe you're right," she conceded, "maybe that prophecy is about her. But maybe it's not. It also said something about unimaginable power and Isabel hasn't shown any signs of it. My parents knew within days of my birth that I was magical."
"Yes," Hans nodded in a clipped voice, "I believe mine was obvious as well." The broken look on his face made him seem the lost child he'd once been.
Taking pity on him, Elsa rested her cheek against his bare shoulder, his skin scalding hot against her own cool face. "We can't hide her away from the world," she insisted. "I can't allow it. At some point, history has to change. We can't just keep repeating the mistakes of our parents and their parents before them."
"How do we keep her safe, Elsa?" Hans asked in a soft voice.
"I think there is enough love here between you and I, not to mention her aunt, uncle and cousin," Elsa assured him. "Isabel will never be alone in this world like we were." To her surprise, his free arm moved around her shoulders, pulling her against the warmth of his bare chest, glowing amber in the firelight.
"By God, I don't deserve you," he said into her hair, making her roll her eyes, though she couldn't suppress a smirk.
"My goodness, I wasn't this dramatic on our wedding night, Hans," she chuckled, raising an eyebrow at him. To her relief, she noticed a familiar wicked gleam in the molten emerald of his eyes.
Lowering his head, his lips brushed against the delicate outer shell of her ear as he purred, "Well, to be fair, I'd already had you by then."
"Hans!" Elsa hissed, swallowing a laugh and swatting at him when he nipped her earlobe.
"What do you say we put this little princess back in her cradle and then you can take me to bed," he brushed his lips over hers, barely grazing the soft skin, "by force if necessary."
Elsa shook her head, rising off of the floor as Hans moved to the cradle beside the bed and placed the sleeping baby into it. "It's dawn," she pointed out when he came to her, pressing her back against the pillows on the bed and unfastening her dressing gown. She half-heartedly attempted to stop him, descending into breathless giggles while he dragged the hem of her dressing gown upward. "We have things to do today, Hans! We have to prepare for the Christening tomorr – oh!"
His lips twisted into smirk. "You were saying?"
Elsa fell back against the pillows as her braid came undone completely, fanning out around her head. "Let's sleep in," she relented, all too eager to admit defeat.
"As my Queen commands," came the dark response.