Title: Consummation (NSFW)
Fandom: Frozen
Pairing: Hans/Anna
Summary: The mourning period is over. Hans decides it is time for him and Anna to create an heir.

Anna enters the king's study, head held high. With a quick nod, she dismisses her lady-in-waiting, the doors shutting behind her. Her eyes betray no emotion as she steps forward into the light of the fireplace. Her mouth is a thin line as she watches the flames dance, vividly recalling the events of a year and a half ago.

She can still feel the pangs of cold, the ice pricking her skin. Most of all she remembers the deceit and how foolishly she had bought it.

Her hands clench as she speaks, words tight.

"You summoned me, husband?"

From the corner of the room, Hans stands in front of his desk, his smile welcoming although she does not see it.

"Anna, it's been so long. How have you been my darling wife?"

She refuses his pretentious greeting, "Why is it so dark in here?"

"I thought I'd have the place cozied up this evening."

She snorts, "are we under financial crisis that we have to turn off gas lamps?"

At that remark, he breaks into a good-natured laugh, which only infuriates Anna, her hands balled at her sides.

"Oh Anna, you've developed such a weird sense of humor since the last time I saw you. And when was that again?"

Her back stiffens, eyes still towards the fire. "If your memory fails you, it was a year and a half ago." The warm glow did nothing to fight the chill that crawled up her spine.

"That long already?"

"It was when you tricked me into marrying you to save my sister's life." She hisses, her words laced with venom. "And you left out the minor detail that she had already been killed." She shuts her eyes and gives a moment to her sister's memory.

Hans comes away from his desk, emerging from the shadows towards her, hands behind him. "I saved your life, didn't I? Marrying me is what undid the curse. And Elsa's death?" He pauses to let out a seemingly sad sigh. "Well, let's be clear. I tried to stop that duke's man from shooting her with a—"

She turns to him violently, "Shut up!"

"The storm stopped after that—"

"Stop it already. You lied to me." She glares at him and beholds him for the first time in more than a year. He looks the same, although dressed in the king's regal black—still the recognizable prince she had fallen in love with in the past. But his eyes now held a new aura about him. The same glint she spied when he rushed through their marriage vows where afterwards, his whole demeanor had changed.

The handsome and silly prince who regaled her had turned into a shrewd man of power.

All from that sham of a wedding…

"For the good of Arendelle. They needed someone." Hans intones, as if speaking to a child. "The other council members agreed."

"And that someone happened to be you."

He shakes his head with pitying eyes, "Let's be real, Anna. You don't have it in you to run a monarchy. While you were off finding your sister, I had to keep everyone alive from her tantrum."

He had some nerve calling her out on that. Yes, it was true, Anna knew nothing about the ins and outs of ruling but to bring that up was like a slap in the face. Arendelle's own advisors chose him over her! And it was as if he was accusing her for her own inexperience, scolding her for going after one soul while leaving thousands to hold on their own. That was his insinuation.

Her fingers start to twitch at the idea of raking his face, to get rid of the surety of his voice, the composure of his stance. But there was no way she could act on it.

Everyone adored the new king.

She wrings her hands, her stare leveling his. "What do you want from me, Hans? Why did you call me?"

"Because it's been more than a year." He states simply.

Her brows furrow at his vague reasoning. "And so? What of it?"

"The mourning period is over."

"What?"

He continues, ignoring her confusion, "I was also generous enough to give you a few more months even after you stopped wearing black."

Anna folds her arms and searches his face for any hint to what he was saying. But all that stares back at her are impassive eyes catching the light of the hearth in flecks of gold.

"What are you trying to get at?"

He says nothing, only walking to her. When he is close enough, he stretches his arm, his hand reaching to touch her cheek—Anna recoils from his contact.

His green eyes narrow at her rejection.

"You're being unreasonable, Anna."

"What do you want from me?!"

There is a short silence. Finally, Hans sighs, eyes never leaving her face as he delivers the answer. His voice is soft and meaningful.

"My right to our wedding night."

Her blue eyes widen, the muted lighting concealing the sudden pallor of her cheeks.

She stutters, "No. You don't mean—"

"Yes, Anna. That's exactly what I mean."

"No."

He closes in on her, Anna rooted in shock.

"You can't deny me that right anymore." He points out, "I did what you wanted. I left you alone. Far too long even…but now it's time to consummate our marriage."

"No." She repeats, mind still reeling from the unexpectedness of it all.

A vice grip lands on her shoulder, his eyes narrowed slits of green. "Yes, Anna. We will." His fingers curl her soft flesh, "You don't know how many times I've had to smile against veiled insults of having a virgin queen, of insinuations that I was faulty. I was even pestered time and again if we were ever going to have children. Did you honestly think our lack of contact went unnoticed to the court?"

Anna opens her mouth to raise an objection—but Hans has been silenced verily enough. With his other hand, he takes her chin, tilting her up to him, his thumb gently caressing her bottom lip.

"You listen to me, Anna," a low whisper, "I've been a patient husband. But now we are going to make an heir."

Then with a smirk, he leans forward, angling his face to her ear, huskily adding, "Don't worry, you'll love it."

Anna frees herself from his grip, twisting her shoulder and hitting his jaw. Hans staggers back with a grunt of pain. She too falls back several steps and crosses her arms over her chest, trying to shrink herself.

"You're disgusting," she exclaims, glaring at him with a passion, "and you're crazy if you think I'll d-do that with you!"

"Anna," despite her bodily harm, his voice cajoles, "let's not be selfish."

"I'm selfish?" her shoulders tremble and her anchored fingers dig at the exposed flesh of her shoulders. Her ears can't believe it. "After everything you did to me? After tricking me? I'm selfish?" There is a note of hysteria in her tone.

Hans exhales sharply, a hand lightly touching his brow as if trying to stave off a headache. "Arendelle needs an heir. You"—

He does not finish— completely taken aback by a choked cry. He stares in surprise as Anna crumples to the carpeted floor in front of the flames, her green skirts pooling around her, arms and knees holding her.

"Arendelle never needed me!" She yells and looks up, her fiery eyes bright with tears, "I've always been cast aside in favor of Elsa. And when she's gone. What's the first thing they do?" Her hands rip through her hair and she produces a mocking laugh, "They trick me into marrying you! Because I wasn't good enough. God, it was no wonder they let me wander off in a party dress like a fool looking for her…nobody really wanted me."

Her hair comes undone in wavy lengths; color crackling in a halo of light and Hans takes this moment of awe at how beautiful she is. On her knees. Trembling. Weeping. Shining. She looks like a fairy whose wings have been ripped off.

"And now I'm the selfish one?" She goes on, "For what? For not spreading my legs? I don't owe them anything," a long inhale, "Just divorce me. Annul the marriage. Find someone better…"

Anna is tired. All this pain and loss has taken a toll. It excruciates and numbs her and she is sick of having to go through it another day. She is even half tempted to throw her self in the fire. Anything to make it stop.

Her throat aches with defeat, "Elsa never even wanted me. Arendelle too…and you."

Hans takes this as his cue, and in one short gait, he falls to his knees. Anna is too weak to resist the arms that slowly encircle her shaky body. Too exhausted to struggle his pull. Her face is crushed to his chest and the warmth of his embrace disorients her. How long since she last had someone this close? Why not even Elsa…

"Anna," a murmur, "I want you. I always have."

Anna squeezes her eyes and wrings a couple of tears into his dark clothes. "You want an heir. That's the only reason you asked for me after all this time."

Hans breathes into her hair, nosing her hairline, "I thought giving you that distance would sort things out. Because of Elsa and…" The breath of his sigh tickles, "Obviously, I was wrong. It only made things fester between us. I never should have left you alone. I want to make things right between us."

"You don't have to lie to me, Hans…" His aiguillette rubs against her cheek as his hold deepens.

"I'm not. I wanted you the first time I saw you." His hands begin to trail the row of buttons down her back. "And I still do, Anna. Please Anna…don't shut me out."

She gasps.

His words gentle, loving—it lulls her nerves and Anna begins to second-guess everything she has bottled inside her until now.

"All this time, I've always thought of you…" He whispers, popping the topmost button free. Then, he moves to the next one. And the next. Anna can feel his fingers grazing every new exposed inch. Wait…surely he doesn't intend to…?

She pushes weakly against his chest, "Hans, this place…it's not…"

He quiets her worry, pressing her brow with a quick kiss. "Shh…Anna. You don't have to say a word."

When all the buttons are done, he begins unlacing the strings of her stay.

"Hans," despite the small protest, she relaxes into him, feels her bodice loosen, and in one tug, it all comes down.

He kisses the freckles on her shoulders, shimmering like stardust. Sinking his nose into the crook of her neck, he inhales deeply, which gives Anna's heart a flutter, his sideburn brushing lightly against her face. He gathers her hair to the other side, free to nuzzle against the pulse of her neck.

"Anna, you're so beautiful." He declares and then pulls himself back so suddenly that Anna stumbles lightly but manages to catch herself. She regards him puzzlingly, only to see him disrobe. She blushes, shyly darting her eyes to the shadowy side of the room.

Hans chuckles amused as he works on his waistcoat, "You're more conscious of me than your own state of modesty?"

His words make Anna stare down and with a soft yelp, cover her breasts with her small hands. It is dark but she can just imagine the red coloring her skin and feel the singe of heat on her face. Definitely not by the fire.

When he frees himself from his shirt, Anna can't help but be entranced—this was her first time seeing a man like this. And there is an unaccustomed sensation brewing inside her as her eyes fall on the freckles dusted on his broad shoulders and chest.

Suddenly a thought strikes her like a jolt—this man is her husband.

And a sense of wonder replaces her initial despair, eyes now unable to break away from him, drinking him in.

Hans carefully shuffles forward on his knees. He takes her wrists, and removes her hands from her chest. Anna does not even complain. Then on her shoulders, he gently pushes her down to the carpet and levers himself, hovering above her, and gazing down at her slim, curved figure.

With eyes dazed and her hair flared out in a shimmering mass—God, she was beautiful.

His queen.

His wife.

The thought makes his arousal grow even more, straining against his breeches. His gaze lowers to her pert breasts and he bites his lip. They were so round and just the right size for her body.

Hans shuts his eyes, breathes in deeply before once again returning to her face.

"You don't know how long I've been waiting to do this." His voice is faint—almost pained; "I must have imagined taking you a million times already," he chuckles weakly.

He brings his face to her ear and kisses her there, exhales into it.

Anna gasps, "Hans."

"Every night, I imagine," his mouth descends to her neck, "you coming into my room, begging me to have you."

Anna shivers, his hot mouth on her throat, his body pressed so close to hers—she feels a fire burning in her and everything Hans is doing inflames it further, the heat concentrating between her thighs.

"There are times I was so tempted," his hands caress her sides, "to just come into your room and make love to you," then slowly rise to cup her breasts. She makes a breathless sound as his fingers begin teasing her, pinching the hardened peaks.

Anna shuts her eyes, bites her lip, the desire taking control. Slowly, her hands wind around his neck and he takes this as an invitation to meet her lips. It starts slow and sensual but the months of waiting pushes Hans in near-desperation, grinding against her bunched dress.

Annoyed, his hands reach down and shimmies the blasted skirts and pantaloons down her hips, Anna helps, kicks them off.

Soon, Hans eases his fingers between her thighs, and Anna responds encouragingly, her nails biting his back, the exquisite pain of which brings Hans to moan inside her mouth.

Anna moves her hips, pushing against his fingers. He rewards her eagerness with tantalizing strokes to the sensitive nub, and she tears her mouth away in a fit of pleasure. And Hans grits his teeth when her very own find their way on his shoulder.

Her nails pinch deeper and her legs grapple his waist, moving upwards to his touch. Her heat blooms and gushes in his hand, the sound of her readiness strummed in the sweat-scented air.

Anna relieves his shoulder to bury against his neck, asking brokenly for something more.

"Anna," he tugs her ear with his teeth, "say you want me."

She doesn't.

She screams it out instead.

Loud enough to send people running.

And that is more than enough to make Hans lose his mind, her desire blinding his own. He prods her bended knees further apart and makes quick work of his breeches before settling in between her again. Pressing against her with no barrier almost makes him cry.

After such a long wait…

"This might hurt," He kisses her nose, "but it becomes bearable after."

He tells himself to be gentle as Anna slides her hands to his nape, pushing up to his wet hair, drawing his face closer.

She tenses and Hans has to soothe her with hush words and kisses before entering her completely. God, he was inside. After all that time. He was finally inside his queen. It almost brings him complete satisfaction. But not really.

Anna holds him tightly within, legs locked around his waist, lips gasping as he moves slowly, filling her at a steady pace. Hans breathes laboriously, fighting the urge to pump her senseless. It is only when she starts to mewl that he quickens his thrusts, sheathing inside her all the way to the hilt.

She moans, tossing her head to the sides in total abandon. The rhythm, the feel of sweat and hot breath mingling between them—all slowly bring her closer to the edge.

Hans surrenders first, seconds before she does. She can feel him twitch and something warm spreads within. And when her climax takes her, she shouts his name over and over until he silences her with a searing kiss.

They lay there by the dying fire.

It is Hans who speaks first, rolling on to his side, gazing at her, calling her attention with her name. Anna, still short of breath, blinks at him in question.

"Stay with me tonight," he frowns, not quite right, so he rectifies, "every night."

Anna leans into him, and he can feel her nod into his chest. He smiles as he throws his arm around her.

At last, he has his queen.

The End.