Hans laid back against his straw bed, tired from the day of work. Elsa had taken mercy when she let the red head pay back for his deeds by doing manual labor around Arendelle, but mercy must have been the last thing on her mind when she put Anna and Kristoff in charge of him. The two had made him do ridiculous chores, from shoveling snow from the highest peak of the castle to scrubbing the floors of Elsa's already pristine ice castle. Elsa's rarely intervened and when she did she reassigned a chore where she could keep a close eye on him, like rearranging all her books in the library while she read an act from her counsel.
He didn't enjoy his time with the quenn, far from it, but he didn't hate it either. She kept conversation up and made sure they steered from delicate subjects like him trying to behead her and her freezing the entire kingdom.
The closest he'd gotten to her was she asked him to clean her shoes while she read from a book of fairytales. She didn't talk and he awkwardly scrubbed them clean while she readjusted herself every few seconds.
Kristoff knocked on the door, snapping him back to reality. "Hey! You've gotta scrub the floors in the ballroom."
He whipped the door open, nose almost bumping into the smelly /reindeer king/. "I'm off the clock."
"Well you're back on." Kristoff grabbed him by the thin cotton shirt. "Elsa said they need to be sparkling for the ball tomorrow night."
"What ball?" He asked, before Kristoff shoved a bucket and a rag into his hands.
"Get going."
Hans scrubbed the hard floors for most of the night, until Elsa padded downstairs, guiltily eating a cupcake as she cut her way through the ballroom to go back upstairs.
"What are you doing?" She asked, mouth full of chocolate and frosting. She looks completely unlike a queen, instead in a white nightgown and her hair in a loose braid to sleep.
He scrubs at a shoe scuff. "I could ask you the same thing. Wouldn't want you to not get the standard sixteen inches."
She flushes, dumping the treat into his soapy water. "Go to bed, Hans."
In the morning, Elsa was the one to wake him up rudely before the sun had even cleaned itself up on the horizon.
"What?" He asked, voice hoarse. He ran a hand through his bedhead.
She stood with her hands on her hips. "You're gonna shine my shoes until i can see my face in the reflection, and you're gonna fix a tear in my dress, you'll then pick flowers from outside to wear in my hair - not roses. Finally, you're gonna need to look semi decent because you're gonna be serving at the ball."
Before he could ask any questions, she stalked out the door with a gust of cold wind.
He went out and picked flowers first, using a clipper. It was too early for bees, but late enough for him to be soaked in sweat after twenty minutes of gathering various flowers and putting them in a basket. The Gardner looked at him peculiarly when he left, carrying the basket with him to his room so he could switch out the stained shirt.
He handed them off to Elsa, and she dismissively sifted through them while he placed her foot in his lap to shine it. She kicked him hard in the crotch before setting the basket aside.
"I'm allergic."
Exhausted, and dizzy from pain, he just sighed.
After she finally deemed the shoes adequate, she breaked him for lunch and to ask Kai to find him a decent suit in his size.
He spent over an hour trying to find Kai, only for Gerda to finally stop him and tell him Kai was in Corona, visiting family, as he had been for the past three days. Angrily he stalked back to Elsa's room, drained of energy almost as soon as he saw her sipping tea and absentmindedly brushing her hair, staring into the mirror.
She put her brush down. "Did Kai give you a suit?"
"Kai's in Corona."
Something clicked behind her eyes. "Oh my goodness, I'm so sorry."
Out of all things, he hadn't been expecting an apology.
"I need to finish fixing my hair before the ball, think you can sew up my dress?"
"I can try, I suppose."
He ended up in a suit by the end of the night, black with a white shirt. Elsa had smoothed down the lapels of his jacket and gave him a hesitant look.
"Don't spill anything on anyone," She reminded him, before turning around to head, dark blue dress swishing with each step. One of the other servants introduced her, and shortly after Anna and Prince Consort, Kristoff. He slipped in from the back with drinks for the group.
Hans knew he wasn't welcome there, even if he was just a servant. Many of the people thought Elsa to be too lax when she had set his punishment - they wanted him dead. Still, no one outwardly spat venom in his face, and in return he nicely asked everyone if they wanted drinks or if they needed help with various tasks, or would set aside a tray to quickly show a young maiden how to waltz a few steps.
Anna, however, had no qualms about loudly degrading him. Her and Kristoff both laughed at him while Elsa's back was turned to talk to a Prince who was first in line for a throne. "You know it's funny," Anna said, walking up to him, and grabbing a flute of champagne from his tray. "You used to be a egotistical douchebag prince and now... you're serving drinks to me at a party." She took a long drink, and then leaned over to spit the alcohol back on his feet.
He grit his teeth and smiled. "Have a nice night, Anna."
Before he could turn away and get back to the guests, she threw her arm up, knocking his tray up against his chest, shattering the glass and spilling the drinks. Despite the loud noise, and the blood dripping from his hand, almost everyone turned away from him. Anna laughed, but quickly stopped when Elsa intervened.
"Anna!"
"He provoked me!" Her lip quivered, turning on the water works. God, he was going to have to rearrange the books in the library again.
"Anna, stop lying, it's not becoming of a princess. Hans, get up, we need to take care of your hands."
Elsa lead Hans away from the party and into an empty room. The noise of the party was almost like static in the background.
She opened a couple of drawers before she sat across from him at a table. If possible, she got paler before she got to work removing the glass from his hand carnage.
After it was gone, sitting in a bloody pile next to them, she dumped whiskey on it hesitantly and then wrapped it tightly with a white bandage.
"Where'd you learn to do that?"
"When you're alone for thirteen years you read a lot and I dunno, I just was really interested in medicine for a while."
He gently moved his fingers, wondering if he could even still pick up a tray with his hand.
"You can go to bed now, if you want."
Her voice was barely a whisper when she said it.
"You don't need help with the ball?"
"Please, Hans, I don't think you'll be very useful with your hand all mangled."
He stood up. "Alright, I guess I'll see you in the morning then."
She gave a very small smile.
He went back down to his room, which was down in a cold room far enough from the dungeons to show he was high ranking, but close enough to remind him he was a prisoner. He swiftly put the suit coat, shirt, and undershirt into the laundry, reminded that he was probably going to spend the next day slaving over laundry.
He dresses in worn slacks, socks, and a long cotton shirt before collapsing into bed and realizing he's not tired. He can still hear the music coming from the party, and sound of glasses clinking, and Anna's loud squeal of laughter.
Eventually he decided he should go check up and make sure nothing is going horribly awry, and slips out of his room and down to the ballroom back doors. He places an ear against it, hearing a different male servant announce a long string of kings, lords and princes.
Then he hears a name that makes his blood run cold. "Prince Federick, of the Southern Isles."