a/n: Short, sort of drabbly piece about Hans and his vulnerability, unedited and unbetaed, so any mistakes are mine.
True To Form
"We would like – your blessing – of – our marriage!"
Feeling Anna tighten her hold on his arm and looking down to meet her eyes, so full of adoration and so genuinely thrilled, Hans nearly slipped up in his practiced smile. It took all of his skill in deception to hide his nervousness and continue his facade of excitement. For the briefest of moments, the part of him that still believed in fairy tales and happy endings thought maybe, just maybe, cheating the feelings of a girl who had never done anything to him was wrong.
And then that moment shattered when Elsa recoiled with narrowed eyes and asked, voice a mixture of disbelief and distaste, "Marriage…?"
Hans had made a calculated decision before proposing, of course. Whether or not Elsa gave her blessings didn't matter, because Hans would win either way with the ultimate bargaining chip known as Princess Anna of Arendelle wrapped around his little finger. If Elsa agreed, that would be perfect; Hans could marry his way to the throne with little interference. If Elsa refused, that would also be to his advantage; Hans would only look even better to Anna by comparison, drive an even bigger wedge between the two estranged sisters, and all would proceed as planned.
It was strange to realize the one thing he didn't plan for was Anna.
"Yes!" Anna said, and Hans once again found himself thrown by the strength of her conviction. Silly girl really thought it was a good idea to marry someone she met that night. Because, Hans realized with maybe a smidgen of guilt, Anna sincerely believed that she loved him, and that he loved her in return.
It didn't matter if her belief was misplaced or the result of desperation.
How long had it been since anyone had given such unrestrained affection to him, the unlucky thirteenth prince, the unwanted accident…?
"I'm sorry, I'm confused," Elsa said. Her eyes said otherwise, flicking over to Hans so he could read her nonverbal message. Anna is confused. But you, Hans…you know exactly what you're doing, don't you?
Elsa didn't trust him. Hans knew he had opted to pursue Anna for a reason, but it still stung.
"Well, we haven't worked out all the details ourselves. We'll need a few days to plan the ceremony. Of course we'll have soup, roast, and ice cream, and then – wait. Would we live here?"
Elsa frowned. "Here?"
Remembering he hadn't yet contributed anything to the conversation, Hans quickly interjected with a weak, "Absolutely!" That was his entire plan, Hans reminded himself, living here, in Arendelle, where the throne was, and he'd be damned if he didn't fight for it.
"Anna–"
"Oh, we can invite all twelve of your brothers to stay with us–"
"What?" Elsa leaned forward with more urgency than before and this time even oblivious Anna noticed her disapproval, let alone Hans. Oh yes, he was very familiar with disapproval. He had never been met with anything but. "No, no, no, no, no."
Anna forged on. "Of course we have the room. I don't know. Some of them must–"
"Wait. Slow down," Elsa said. "No one's brothers are staying here. No one is getting married."
"Wait, what?"
"May I talk to you, please? Alone."
Just as always, Hans was excluded. It was the same at home, locked doors and secret conversations that he had no part of, his brothers talking amongst themselves and his father never giving him the time of day, his mother telling him to make some use of himself and never telling him how. Hans was used to it.
Then Anna hooked her arms with his, and Hans was once again surprised by her resistance to Elsa. It went much, much further than he had expected, not the weak protests of a child for a new obsession that he thought would die off after a minute. She was putting in much, much more of a fight for him, just him, than anyone had ever before. Was he really so important to her?
"No. Whatever you have to say, you, you can say to both of us."
When had they become the both of us…? When had Anna decided to link her identity with his, the stranger she met only that night?
Elsa's lips pursed, and once again her gaze flickered over to Hans for the briefest of seconds before speaking. "Fine. You can't marry a man you just met." Only Hans saw the open hostility, the distrust, the paranoia, and even if he knew she was right about him, the scorn made him clench his fist. He had done nothing to her to deserve this.
Yet.
"You can if it's true love!" Anna said.
"Anna, what do you know about true love?"
Hans wondered what he knew about true love. Enough to make a halfway convincing play of it. Not enough to ever actually give it.
"More than you. All you know is how to shut people out!" Anna cried.
Elsa paused, and even Hans gave a start. Suddenly, he thought maybe he was just Anna's replacement for Elsa. Of course, he should have known. It was the avenue that had allowed him to get this close in the first place, but only now did Hans really, truly think about being a replacement. But what did it matter? It only made him more important. He was the one thing to give Anna security, and Hans was satisfied with that. Certainly no one else had ever relied on him before.
He told himself that it didn't matter, but it still stung a little, again.
"You asked for my blessing, and my answer is no. Now, excuse me." Elsa turned and began to walk away, while Anna was still reeling from her decision.
This was where he should comfort Anna and cement himself in her good graces.
This was not where he should appeal to Elsa.
Hans decided that he would at least try, once. He would try to repair the relationship between these two sisters, he would try to be a good person so he would deserve a happy ending, he would at least try, once, to be the person he wanted to be and not the person cruelty had forced him to become. If nothing else, he would try to repay Anna for her misguided affections.
"Your Majesty, if I may ease your–"
"No, you may not," Elsa said, harshly, and Hans froze under her frigid glare, carefully planned speech locked in his throat. "And I – I think you should go."
And as he watched Elsa turn her back to him after a single dismissive glance, that was when Hans knew fairy tales and happy endings weren't possible for someone like him. Wherever he went he was always, always, met with rejection. The unlucky thirteenth prince of the Southern Isles, son of an uncaring king and a distant queen, burned with hatred and humiliation at the scorn. Not even seizing the throne would salve that reopened wound, closed only seconds ago before being brutally torn open again, raw and bleeding even more than before.
I think you should go
I think you should
I think
you should
go.
No, Elsa, I think you should go.