Happy first day of winter! And how better to kick this season off than with a Frozen story?

So, I'll admit, Hans is one of my all-time favorite Disney villains—and I thought it'd be interesting to explore his past a bit. Just a heads-up: he's gonna go through a lot of rough stuff as a kid (nothing too dark, though). And then, he'll become a diabolical schemer himself…

Obligatory disclaimer: I do not claim ownership of Disney's Frozen, its characters, setting, plot, or any element of it.

-XIII-

It was a tense time in the castle. Screams of pain had been coming from the infirmary at periodic intervals, loud enough for many of the inhabitants to hear and know what was going on. There had been numerous such instances like this before, and many of the servants and nobles had been there for every one of them. None had been pleasant to listen to—but at least with the earlier ones, there had been a sense of something good coming out of it. Now…not as much.

The door to the infirmary was closed, no one allowed in save for the king, the queen, and the doctors. Outside stood five people, all male. The first three were all in their late teens or early twenties, the fourth was thirteen, and the fifth was only eight. While the last two were staring at the door with concerned looks on their faces, the other three were less outwardly invested. One of them scowled. "Don't know why the hell they wanted to go through this again…" he said.

Another of the men gave him a reprimanding look, with a side glance at the two younger ones. "Come on, Jakob," said the first one with a snort. "They're gonna hear those words at some time or other."

"Then let us make sure they are not from their brothers, who are supposed to be setting an example," said Jakob.

"Oh, save your preachings for church. You can't boss me around; I'm only a year younger than you."

"I am still the crown prince. You will have a higher obligation to me one day, Fredrik."

Fredrik scowled again. "Birth doesn't mean anything."

"Says the number two in line out of soon-to-be thirteen," said the third young man. "You do rank above most of us."

Fredrik drew himself up. "Damn straight. And don't you forget it."

His language earned another reproachful glance from Jakob, but he ignored it. "Of course," said the third young man again, "you are still below Jakob."

Fredrik's face immediately went from proud to sour. "Why don't you keep your trap shut, Lukas?" he said. "Why are you even here? I thought you were too wrapped up with your numbers."

Lukas returned his brother's gaze, his demeanor still level. "She is our mother. She went through the same process with all of us. I thought it would be right to offer my support."

Jakob glanced from side to side. "Yes, a thought our other brothers should have expressed, as well. Less than half of us are present. This is reproachable."

Lukas gave a shrug. "A lot of them are still young. I'm surprised Gabriel showed up, actually."

Fredrik rolled his eyes. "He's the goody-two-shoes of the family. Of course he'd be here."

The youngest boy had glanced over to his three eldest brothers, but at Fredrik's words, he turned away again. Jakob shook his head. "Learn to control yourself, Fredrik."

"What for? You're the one who's getting built up to become king, not me."

"You are still a man of high position. We need to set examples, all of us."

Fredrik gave another snort. "Tell that to the seven of us who aren't here."

Jakob's eyes hardened. "I shall."

Lukas's impassive expression did not change. "The youngest probably don't fully understand this…"

"They should be here nonetheless. And the older ones have no excuse. After today, I'm going to make a point of talking to Jan and Adam about fulfilling their duties."

"They probably won't listen, though," said Lukas. "Jan's focus lies elsewhere, and Adam cares about these things less than all of us."

"I've noticed," said Jakob, his countenance still hard. "Which is what I intend to change."

Lukas did not seem optimistic. "Good luck."

Jakob fell silent, though a look of disapproval remained on his face.

Another scream came from behind the door. The eyes of the eight-year-old, Gabriel, widened in concern, and, a second later, so did those of the thirteen-year-old.

Fredrik scoffed at the sight. "Stefan's got a lot to learn about sucking up," he said, though he did keep his voice low. "C'mon, don't try to deny it," he said, as Jakob gave him yet another look. "He's always trying to be the favorite. I think he's gonna try to usurp you someday."

Jakob raised an eyebrow. "Then he has a lot to learn about how succession goes in this kingdom."

"Like I said."

The brothers lapsed back into silence for a moment. "How much longer is this gonna take?" said Fredrik.

"However much longer it has to," said his older brother.

"Thanks, now I know exactly how much longer we're gonna have to stand here waiting for yet another member to be added to our already-huge family."

"He will be a brother of ours, Fredrik."

"Aleksander is our brother, too, but look at what he's shaping up to be."

"He's barely a year old. You can't say how he's going to turn out."

"Maybe I've got a sense for this sort of thing."

"Right," said Lukas dryly, nodding. "And you were the one who was convinced that Erik would be something of a social butterfly."

"Okay, first off, I was, like, ten years younger then."

"Nine."

"Whatever. Second, he was a happy baby, remember? You would've guessed the same thing."

Lukas shrugged and said nothing.

A few seconds later, Gabriel walked over to them. "Is Mommy gonna be all right?"

"Yeah, is she?" said Stefan, also walking over and stepping in front of his younger brother.

"I'm sure she'll be fine," said Jakob calmly. "She's done this many times before. The doctors will see to it that she and the baby are all right."

"Well, when will we get to see her?" said Stefan.

"I doubt it will be much longer. She's been in there for a while, and this usually doesn't take too long."

Stefan returned to his post, and Gabriel followed, though more slowly.

Despite Jakob's words, however, it was almost another hour before a nurse opened the door and said they could come in.

Doctor Harald of the Southern Isles had known the queen for nearly all her life, and so had assisted in each one of her now-thirteen births. The first few had brought joy to his heart, like it had the king and queen, to see another healthy boy join the royal family. The last few, however, had felt more like a burden than anything else. The queen had been almost constantly in a bad mood during her pregnancies, and seemed to have screamed more during the births themselves—especially this last one, which was the longest Harald could remember. As such, the royal couple paid less and less attention to their younger sons, who were no longer the little bundles of joy that the older ones had been. In fact, when he had made sure that this one, the youngest, was healthy and had handed it to the queen, she had looked right up at the king and said, "We're never doing this again," to which he nodded.

Harald forced back a sigh, and felt a stab of pity as he looked down at the baby's face, who was still crying. If this child had been born into another family, he might get the appropriate care for a young boy—but as the thirteenth in line for the throne, there would be few who would be willing to pay attention to him.

He turned at the sound of the door opening, and stepped back to allow the princes to come over. Surprisingly, there were only five: the eldest Jakob was there, of course, as was the compassionate Gabriel, but the only other three that accompanied them were Fredrik, Lukas, and Stefan. Harald frowned, and wondered, not for the first time, why the king and queen had decided on having such a big family; the other brothers most likely did not think that another sibling was worth their time. On the other hand, he doubted Jakob, Fredrik, and Lukas were present out of concern for their new brother. Aside from a handful of exceptions, the brothers' relationships weren't that strong.

Stefan was the first to reach his mother's bed, pushing Gabriel out of the way. "Mom, are you all right?" he asked.

The queen nodded wearily. "I will be fine, thank you."

Stefan drew himself up as Gabriel approached the bed, looking at his new brother. "What are you gonna name him, Mommy?"

The queen glanced over at the king, who looked back with a blank look. "We'll name him…Hans," said the queen, clearly picking a name out of the blue. It was a fairly basic name, and didn't suggest a whole lot of thought. But, it was the name the young prince would have. Perhaps he would make it famous one day—though that was highly unlikely, Harald thought.

Jakob stepped forward, towering over Stefan and Gabriel. "I am glad to hear you are doing well, Mother," he said, his air of formality present as always.

"Thank you, Jakob," she said. She looked over at Fredrik. "Fredrik, call the nursemaid, will you?"

Fredrik didn't look delighted at the prospect of running his mother's errand, but nodded and walked away.

Almost immediately, the queen began to converse, mainly with the king and Jakob, about some of the pressing issues facing the kingdom at the moment, almost entirely ignoring the baby in her arms. Harald forced back another sigh. He knew what was coming. Hans would be handed off to a nursemaid, who, along with another couple of appointed servants of the castle, would be responsible for his upbringing for several years. He would see his brothers and parents on occasion (most likely more the former than the latter), but he would be taught the doings of the castle largely by people who weren't related to him, who didn't have the family connection. Truth be told, it all worried Harald. Spending so much time away from your family, without a strong figure to love and care for you (unless one of the servants or the nursemaid took a particular liking to you, which didn't always happen)—it didn't seem a healthy way to grow up. He often worried about the princes—while some seemed to be doing fine, like Gabriel, others didn't look like they would turn out so well, like Stefan.

He could only hope that Hans's future would not be too marred.

-XIII-

A good deal more to come, naturally. If you've got any thoughts, I'd love to hear them.