Title: Humbly Yours
Word Count: 3,234
Name: thesnowbirdandthephoenix
Tumblr Name: snowbirdelsa
Summary: Two years have passed since the great thaw, and Elsa is confronted with a marriage proposal form the Southern Isles. The Ninth Prince, Fredrik, requests Elsa's hand. After careful consideration she accepts, but the traitor Prince won't make it that easy. Elsa sends letters to correspond with her future husband; only Hans is the one replying unknown to the Ice Queen. HELSA
It's funny how quickly love can unfold between two people, Elsa thought to herself as she watched the young couple parading around in the garden. Anna's inaudible laugh was still somehow able to warm the Snow Queen's icy heart. Her blue eyes trailed after the large blonde man who was at this time trying to catch the spry strawberry blonde. Her freckled cheeks rose as a grin spread across her lips when she, once again, dodged his grasp. A small smile spread across the queen's lips as she watched their carefree display. She was so absorbed in observing her sister she completed missed Kai's urgent tone. "Your Majesty!?" Kai spoke loudly.
Elsa whipped her platinum blonde head toward her most trusted advisor. "I'm sorry, Kai. I seem to have drifted off for a moment." The sincere apology was enough to appease the older, portly gentleman, but his urgency did not dissipate.
"Queen Elsa, it seems we have received a letter from the Southern Isles."
This statement was enough to keep Elsa grounded in the moment instead of treading of into her daydream once more. "The Southern Isles?" She wanted to make sure she had heard him right. They had not received any form of letter, proposal, or agreement from the kingdom since word of the Former Prince Hans sentence was released. "What are they writing about?" Even after Kai ripped open the seal and read through the letter, Elsa kept eye contact. She read every emotion that passed over his elderly face. It went from confusion, to surprise, to nauseating, to outraged.
Kai roughly folded the letter back up and placed it in his waistcoat. His furrowed brow and scowl was enough for the young queen to see something had upset him. "Kai, what does it say? A-are they declaring war?" She took a step closer to the man. Her gloved hand outstretched for the letter.
He quickly intercepted her grasp and instead folded his hands over her own. "Your Majesty, it is something far worse…"
"What could be worse tha-?"
"A marriage proposal."
She stared dumbfounded. "A marriage proposal." The numbness as she repeated the words was evident in her tone. A marriage proposal wasn't unheard of for the young, and beautiful, queen to receive, but she never thought someone from the Southern Isles would be interested in taking her hand as queen. No one except Hans. Her eyes clamped shut for a moment as she fought the thought out of her head. "Is it him?"
The chuckle that escaped Kai's mouth was a surprise. He clasped his hands tighter. "No, You Majesty, there is no way for him to even request such a thing. His title was revoked. You do remember?" She nodded at his words, though no amount of reassurance seemed to dull the tightness in her chest. Kai, sensing this, continued to try and soothe her. He caressed her hands delicately, much like a father would. "He is nothing more than a lowly servant scrubbing the palace floors his twelve brothers dirty every day."
She forced a small smile upon her lips at the comment. "I do hope I haven't made being a servant to miserable for you, Kai."
His hearty chuckle made the tightness in Elsa's chest loosen a little. "My Beloved Queen, I do not think anyone in the palace believes you to be mistreating them in any way."
Her hands slid out of his grip and she turned toward the window in time to see Anna share a couple cute pecks with her mountain man. "May I ask who is asking for my hand?"
"Of course, Your Grace. He is the Ninth Prince of the Southern Isles, Fredrik Westergard."
Elsa placed her hand over her beating heart. She was unsure of why she was so afraid of a man she had never met. Was it because of the influence Hans still had over her? Almost every night for the past two years she dreamt of his betrayal. The way he used Anna in order to obtain the throne of Arendelle; the way he almost killed her. Her heart sped against her chest. How was she to know that Prince Fredrik wasn't an exact replica of his younger brother?
Then again, maybe this feeling wasn't stemming from those reasons. Maybe it was rooting from another issue she had yet to admit to herself. As she watched Anna kiss Kristoff for what seemed like the hundredth time, Elsa had to admit she was jealous of their affection. The main reason she was so afraid to respond to any marriage proposal was because, like every young woman, she craved something more than diplomacy. She craved love.
With a sigh she turned back toward Kai. "We shall bring the proposal to the council."
"A-are you sure, Your Majesty? I can just decline it like all the others."
"No, it is time I put my people before my own interests. From now on, every marriage proposal will be brought in front of the council until they can decide on someone suitable to become the future King of Arendelle." Elsa lifted up her skirts and began to walk out of the room.
"My Queen, do you not believe you should marry for love?"
She stopped in her tracks and turned her head slightly over her shoulder. Her beautiful blue eyes clouded by her bangs. "A Queen in not entitled to partake in frivolous things such as love."
Three days passed until every council member was available to meet. Elsa stood at the head of the table with her chin held high as she watched everyone take their seat. However, Anna, who never attended such meetings, sat by the queen's side as by Elsa's request. Anna absentmindedly twirled her strawberry blonde braid between her fingers as she unbecomingly slumped down in her chair.
Elsa held back the giggle. Her sister had no regal air about her, and yet she was still able to charm many of the townspeople. Elsa wasn't deaf to their comments. They all loved Anna, hoped that one day she would ascend to the crown. Although their opinions hit hard with the Queen she was still happy to serve and protect her people.
"Everyone is present, Your Majesty." Kai whispered at her side.
She gave him a curt nod before turning to look at the white haired gentleman that sat around the table. "Thank you all for coming." She ignored the unhappy grumbles. "As you all are aware I have been receiving marriage proposals from surrounding kingdoms for quite some time." A few nodded at her statement while others glared. "And as you all know I have had Kai, up until this point, reject the proposals."
An elderly man by the name of Tor stood. "Your Majesty, is my hearing finally failing me or did I hear you say 'up until this point'?"
She gave the man a soft smile. "You heard correctly. The other day I received yet another marriage proposal. At first I was unsure of how to proceed; this matter in more delicate then the ones that have preceded it." More mutters. "A letter from the Southern Isles was delivered with the proposal if marriage between me and the Ninth Prince of the Southern Isles, Fredrik Westergard."
Anna bolted upright in her chair and stared at her sister; her mouth wide. The men looked around at one another and mumbled imperceptible words. Anna impatiently tugged on her sisters dress sleeve. "Elsa," Her whisper was louder than the mumbles traveling across the room. "Elsa, you can't really-"
"This is not my decision." Her curt reply froze Anna in her seat. She let her sisters sleeve fall from her fingertips as she slumped back in her seat; this time not from boredom, but from defeat.
A burly gentleman with wild gray hair stood at the other end of the table. His wild facial hair covered any hint of a mouth he may had possessed, yet he was still able to form understandable sentences. He cleared his throat and began to speak in a gruff, yet soft tone. "We understand that the situation presented to us is a hard one for you, My Queen. However, the council was formed years before because your grandfather believed no single person should hold absolute power over a group of people. We exist to help distinguish what is better for the people of Arendelle."
"I know, Bjorn, and I thank you all for taking on this responsibility."
He ignored her kind words and continued. "That being said, we are requesting that you accept the proposal made by Prince Fredrik."
A sharp sting pierced her chest as the words left his mouth. It was predictable to say the least, but it was still a burden Elsa would have to live with. "Thank you."
An echo shot across the room as Anna slammed her fists upon the solid oak table. "No!" She protested. "Elsa cannot marry someone from that-that place! Have you all forgotten what they did to us!?"
"It was not a 'they' that attempted to overthrow the crown. It was a 'he' and he has already been dealt with." A shaky voice responded with a more authoritative tone than Elsa could ever hope to obtain.
"Prince Fredrik is kin to the traitor prince. They are brothers for goodness sake," Anna preached, "Are you really all so naïve that you believe the same thing won't repeat itself."
Bjorn stood once more and glared at the younger princess. "It is you who are being naïve, Your Highness, for almost two years we have tried to survive without the trade routes to Weselton and The Southern Isles. It is difficult for your people to survive during such harsh winters without the goods from either Kingdom. With both gone people are left tired and wanting. We must repair a relationship to once again begin trading."
"So draw up a document, don't marry off your queen-" Elsa gently grasped her sister's shoulder. Confused blue eyes turned back to look at her. She shook her head at the freckle faced girl. Anna's lip quivered and her eyes watered. "Fine, Elsa, have it your way…" She muttered before speeding out of the council room.
Elsa desperately wanted to chase after her sister. She wanted to console her and tell her that this was the last thing she wanted for herself. But she knew it needed to be done for her people. A prickle tickled at her gloved fingertips as an uncomfortable feeling washed over her. She held back the icy sting and raised her chin high once more. "Thank you all for your time. I will write up a letter to the Queen of the Southern Isles, presently, informing her of my decision to wed Prince Fredrik."
Two years had come and gone, but the discrimination directed his way never became easier for Hans to deal with. He stood by the main ballroom door with his back straight and his hands folded neatly behind his back, as he was instructed to do by a man he used to consider help. Now if Hans disobeys, or even if Jorgen deems it fitting, he is caned; sometimes even whipped. There are scars littered across his back to prove the ill-treatment. Not that any of that mattered. He could plead to his mother to revoke her sentence, but she would laugh and look at him with the same cold eyes she has since birth. You brought this on yourself, she would say, Go wallow in your disreputable misery.
Hans rolled his shoulder and groaned as a loud pop echoed through the empty halls. One would think that after all this time he would have gotten used to the hard plank bed he was forced to sleep on every night, but he hasn't. The mousy gray servant attire he wore caused him to blend into any scenario. Half of the time no one recognized him as the traitor prince until one of his many brothers decided to shame him to their guests. That's was my brother. He had a great life in the palace. He was a respected man, an Admiral. Now all he is good for is cleaning my shoes. Hans suppressed a growl.
"Excuse me." Hans hadn't even noticed the man standing before him until he had said something. The simple winged badge on his jacket was an indication that he was the royal courtier. His green eyes simply bore into the old man waiting for him to continue. The courtier's shaky hands held two neatly folded letters. "These are to be delivered to Queen Cecile as soon as possible."
"Where are they from?" Hans asked coolly as he studied to pristine curves and dips of each letter on the thick parchment.
"Arendelle." The courtier responded simply. "It is urgent." He pressed again.
Hans numbly nodded. "Yes, of course. I will make sure the Queen received these right away." His emerald eyes trailed after the man until he was completely out of sight before closely inspecting the letters. One, of course, was addressed to his mother, but the other wasn't. No, in the same flawless handwriting as the other one the name Prince Fredrik was written. He placed the letters calmly in his waistcoat before turning to knock on the ballroom door.
Three loud thumps were enough to gain the attention of the servant inside. A middle aged man adorned in the same gray as Hans opened up. "What do you want?" He snapped to his younger counter part.
"I have letters for the Queen. The courtier made known that it was urgent." The man gave a curt nod and Hans entered the room. Tables were being extravagantly decorated with flowers and chocolates as his mother fervently prepared for another ball. The woman was obsessed with attention and always loved to be the host of the party. As Queen she was able to soak in the compliments of her people.
She stood in the middle of the large floor, fanning herself with an expensive silk fan Hans' father more than likely bought for her. Her auburn hair was pulled tight into a neat bun with a few curls dangling down from the humidity. "I want another table further in the corner." She directed.
"Mother."
Cecile whipped around and glared at her youngest son. They shared the same color hair, the same colored eyes, even the same colored complexion, but they shared no love for one another. "Don't call me that, you pig. You lost all rights to be my son the moment you became a power corrupt lunatic."
"I wonder who I got that from, Mother."
She snapped her fan shut. "What is it you want, Hans? I am busy preparing for tonight."
"The courtier has urgent letters for you from Arendelle."
Her dull green eyes immediately lit up. "Give them here, boy."
Hans pulled out the single envelope addressed to her. She used her long nail to rip through the thick wax. Her eyes trailed across the page, back and forth, back and forth. A wicked smile spread across her thin pale lips. She rolled up the parchment and lightly whacked Hans' shoulder. "It looks like your dear mommy helped one of your brothers succeed where you could not."
He glared at the woman. "What do you mean?"
"Fredrik is going to be the King of Arendelle." Anger flared inside Hans' chest. A growl rumbled in his throat as he stared at this wicked woman before him. "Was there another letter, boy? You said 'letters'"
The parchment chaffed against his chest in his petticoat pocket. "No." He lied. "That was the only one."
"Well then leave I have no use for you." With a wave of her hand she dismissed him. "And remind me to talk to Jorgen. I feel your attitude deserves a lashing."
Hans desperately tried to hold back a cry of pain as the whip lashed down on his bare back. The heat from the impact caused him to shudder. He could feel the disgusted dribble of blood escaping the open wounds on his back. 37. He silently counted as another one slashed across his back. His teeth hurt from the amount of pressure he was biting down on the piece of wood. The ropes that tied his hands together cut his skin and left blisters from him trying to pull away. The pain was everywhere and there was no escaping it. Another lashing. 43. Only seven more, he told himself as Jorgen pulled the whip back once more. He dug his fingernails into his palm in order to redirect the pain somewhere other than his back; anything to keep him from passing out. 49. As the last one slashed his back Hans let out a painful cry. His mouth hung open as he arched his back.
He was carried to his room, as humiliating as it was he wasn't able to walk. The incredible sting in his back made it impossible to concentrate on anything. He couldn't lie down. He could barely sit without passing out. With a shaky hand he reached for his servant petticoat and grasped the parchment inside. He fiddled with the seam for a minute pondering whether or not he should do this. If anyone found out he would have to endure more lashings; upwards of 100. Was satisfying his curiosity worth the pain? Yes, it was.
He slid his finger across the seal. It popped open fairly easily. He unfolded it and studied the delicate handwriting. Each word played silently on his lips as he read the letter. His fingers gripped the parchment tightly sending uncharacteristic wrinkles across the paper.
To Prince Fredrik of the Southern Isles,
To say this is unlike me is an understatement. In my mind, I never pictured myself accepting a marriage proposal, especially once sent from the Southern Isles. I hope that statement did not offend you in anyway, as that was not my goal. I am simply trying to connect with the man I am soon going to be calling husband.
If I am going to be honest, which I have succeeded in thus far, I am not looking forward to our marriage. I do not know you, and you do not know me. You only know of the rumors spread around the courts of The Snow Queen of Arendelle. I am sure there is very few kind words said about me. Unfortunately, I do not remember hearing any rumors about you; meaning I have absolutely no impression concerning you. You are the definition of a stranger, and that intimidates me.
So please, adhere to my request and help me learn more about you. As a thank you I will allow you to hear the truth about me.
Humbly Yours,
Queen Elsa of Arendelle.
Hans balled up the paper before tossing it across the room. Humbly Yours- The thought of his brother taking his throne made him sick. He wouldn't allow such underhanded tricks. A devilish smile spread across the traitor prince's chapped lips. He stood on wobbly legs and limped over to his equally wobbly desk. "There is no way I am going to let him win." He mumbled painfully. His shaky hands grasped at parchment and a quill that was tucked neatly inside his drawer.
To Queen Elsa of Arendelle; my humble future wife…