This is somewhat AU as it is an alternate storyline starting at the ball after Elsa's coronation. Originally conceived for Day 7 of Helsa Week: Thawing

"Queen Elsa of Arendelle," the Bishop announced, as Elsa willed her heart rate to return to a normal pace. At least the gloves were back in place and she hadn't ruined it all by revealing her secret; there was that. She turned slightly, seeing her sister's proud, smiling face and felt a lump form in her throat. How desperately she wanted to go to Anna, fling her arms around the sister she'd pushed away for so long and apologize for the years of neglect. But she couldn't; not if she wanted to keep Anna and Arendelle safe. Her secret must remain hidden.

Feeling the heat of a hundred pairs of eyes upon her, Elsa managed a weak smile. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed Anna looking at someone in the audience and followed her sister's gaze to a young man a few rows in, dressed in finery befitting a royal. He was a prince, clearly, but from where she wasn't certain. She'd only been informed of middle aged royals and aristocrats attending the ball.

His eyes suddenly moved from Anna to her, fixating on her with alarming focus. Elsa quickly averted his gaze, feeling her cheeks burn. Luckily her complexion was so pale; nobody would ever notice the difference. He was handsome; probably the most handsome man she'd ever seen. Of course, Elsa hadn't exactly seen many men near her age in her life, so she had very little basis for comparison. Not to mention, he was clearly taken with her sister. And why shouldn't he be? Anna was everything she couldn't be; funny, outgoing and full of life. Any man would have to be completely daft not to be drawn in by Anna's effervescence.

Perhaps the prince would take Anna away from this involuntarily life of isolation she'd had to endure since childhood and she could find some happiness outside of Arendelle, where she could build a new family. One that can appreciate her, Elsa thought bitterly, wishing fervently for a moment that she could turn back time to that fateful morning thirteen years earlier. But she'd always known that she was going to have to let Anna go live her life someday. Anna would never know the truth about her sister; perhaps she'd even forget about the pain of her lonely childhood in time, but Elsa would carry enough of it for both of them, remaining behind the gates of the castle.

Conceal, don't feel…

Gathering her strength, she turned to her sister, but found that Anna was already being ushered out of the chapel along with the rest of the guests, leaving Elsa standing alone on the altar. "My lady?" Kai's gentle voice called to her, bringing her head up and forcing her to collect herself. She walked down the aisle, holding her head up as she'd been taught to do as her cape trailed elegantly behind her.

Anna was hovering near the food table when Elsa entered the ballroom, which made her smile because even when they'd been children, Anna had always been enamored with food, sneaking chocolates and cookies when their parents weren't looking. Once, she'd even managed to steal two lemon tarts and a handful of shortbread cookies from the kitchen during a dinner party and bring them back to the room they'd shared. The two girls had closed the bed curtains on Elsa's bed and had sat up, giggling together. Of course, their father had caught them when he'd realized they were two desserts short for the party and had marched both girls downstairs to apologize to the entire room of diplomats. Elsa had stepped in and told her father that it had been her idea, though the king had known his daughters all too well, deducing that his youngest was indeed the culprit.

How she missed her parents.

Elsa watched the dancers glide across the floor and tried to wonder what it would be like to be whirled around that way. Naturally, she knew how to dance, of course, but she'd never actually attended a ball. The thought of being that physically close to somebody filled her with an all consuming terror. Visions of freezing someone solid with the mere touch of her hand ran through her mind.

"Queen Elsa of Arendelle!" Elsa realized her name was being called and tried not to panic as she moved toward the throne at the head of the grand ballroom. She felt a rush of embarrassment when everyone bowed as she ascended the stair. Kai turned to her sister, who was lingering near the periphery of the crowd looking somewhat bemused. "Princess Anna of Arendelle." Elsa noticed Anna stop at the bottom of the stairs and saw Kai patiently guide Anna to stand beside her sister. Elsa breathed a sigh of relief. The worst was over and her secret was safe.

"Oh, are you sure? Because I don't think I'm supposed to – oh!" She was set into place. "Okay…"

Elsa felt a twinge of guilt when Anna noticed they were nearly arm to arm and stepped away from her, putting distance between them and fidgeting nervously. Keeping the placid smile on her face, she turned to her sister. "Hi." The word seemed to hang in the air, surprising both of them. It was the first time Elsa had spoken to her in forever.

Anna's eyes had grown wide. "Hi…hi me?" She asked, blinking rapidly, clearing her throat. "Hi…?" She sounded like she was unsure of what to do after years of begging Elsa to come out of her room.

Elsa tried to think of something to say, remembering how much she liked talking to Anna. "You look beautiful."

Anna's eyes lit up, touched. "Thank you!" She gave a nervous chuckle. "You look beautifuller," she exclaimed, before shaking her head derisively, "I mean, not fuller; you don't look fuller, but more…more beautiful!"

Elsa laughed. "Thank you. So," she breathed, turning her eyes back toward to celebration, "this is what a party looks like."

Anna hesitated before blurting, "It's warmer than I thought!" Which made perfect sense, really since it was June.

"And what is that amazing smell?" Elsa grinned knowingly, inhaling and meeting her sister's eyes.

"Chocolate," they concluded together, giggling. It was the best she'd felt in years; almost as if she could pretend for a moment that everything was going to be fine and they could be happy again."

"Your Majesty," Kai interrupted apologetically, "the Duke of Weasel Town."

"Weselton," the miniscule middle aged man snapped, "the Duke of Weselton, Your Majesty," he corrected, giving Elsa what was clearly an attempt to charm her. She managed to maintain a polite visage. He stepped toward her, looking almost comically short from that angle. "As your closest partner in trade, it seems only fitting that I offer you your first dance as Queen." Elsa's eyes widened as the tiny man danced spastically before them, and bowed, causing his hair piece to come apart and reveal his baldness.

She swallowed a snicker as Anna gasped and let out a quiet "Oh!"

Clearing her throat, Elsa straightened, trying to regain some semblance of dignity. "Uh, thank you. Only I don't dance." Her eyes slanted toward Anna, a devilish grin curving her lips. "But my sister does."

"Lucky you," Weselton addressed Anna, taking her arm while she tried to feebly protest before being practically dragged onto the dance floor. Anna glanced over her shoulder giving Elsa a look of disbelief.

Elsa gave an apologetic wave. "Sorry…"

She watched, trying not to laugh as Weselton galloped around her younger sister in what looked like some kind of aviary mating dance, before dipping Anna so low, her head was nearly on the floor. Elsa couldn't help but giggle softly, highly amused. Luckily, Anna didn't seem to mind that she was being tossed around like a rag doll by a man who was roughly the same size as a twelve year old girl. Something caught Elsa's eye, just beyond them, bringing her focus away from Weselton momentarily. She noticed that same young prince standing off to the side, chatting amiably with Count…something or other. His eyes slowly rose; as if he sensed her looking at him and she noticed how remarkably green they were, even from this distance. Elsa had never been attracted to a man before, so she had no precedent to refer to, but she had to imagine this was it.

"Your Majesty," a man's voice brought her back to the present. "I am the Duke of Grimstaad, and this is my wife."

"Your Majesty," the woman, curtseyed.

"We would like to congratulate you. Your parents were remarkable rulers, and you are very loved by your people."

"It is my honor," she told them, swallowing the sudden lump in her throat. "It is my only intention to be half the ruler my father was."

They bowed once more and took their leave as Anna came trudging back through the crowd, looking slightly worse for the wear.

Elsa chuckled. "Well! He was spritely!"

"Especially for a man in heels!" Anna panted, grinning as she stretched out her sore muscles.

"Are you okay?" Elsa inquired, amused and feeling that same awful feeling of contentment she had before. She could not get too comfortable with this. It was only for one day.

Anna laughed, turning to her. "I've…never been better! This is so nice…I wish it could be like this all the time," she confessed earnestly, sending pain into Elsa's chest.

"Me too," she told Anna. And she meant it. She hadn't thought about her power in nearly a half hour which was a nice relief from the rest of her life. Her face fell, bringing her back to reality as she turned away. "But it can't."

"Why not?" Anna pressed. "I mean if we—" She reached out to Elsa, who recoiled from her touch.

"It just can't!" She insisted with an air of finality, unable to turn her eyes and look into Anna's stricken face. It hurt enough to hear the hurt in her sister's voice.

"Excuse me for a minute," Anna replied softly. Fighting the burning in her eyes, Elsa turned her eyes to see Anna making her way dejectedly through the crowd. Stepping down from the platform, she moved toward the exit and halted behind a pillar when she heard two women talking.

"Most odd, isn't she?" One was saying. "Skittish as a wild foal."

"She'll never find a husband all buttoned up like that," the other retorted in agreement. "No wonder they're calling her the Ice Queen."

Elsa's eyes widened and she backed away, tears stinging at the corners of her eyes. Mortified at the thought of bursting into tears in public, she quickly informed Kai that she needed a moment to herself and hurried out of the ballroom through the servants' entrance in an attempt to collect herself, balling her gloved hands into fists.

Conceal, don't feel…

She passed through the kitchens, ignoring the looks she was receiving from the staff before rounding the corner and nearly colliding with someone much taller than herself. She lunged backward, stumbling on shaky legs and reaching for something to grab onto to prevent imminent humiliation. She could feel the inside of her gloves filling with frost already. Closing her eyes, she prepared to tumble unceremoniously onto the floor, but was caught around the waist by the person into whom she'd crashed.

"Your Majesty!" He spoke. "My apologies. Are you hurt?"

Elsa pulled her hands down from her face, discerning that she was face to face with the handsome stranger with the alarming green eyes. They were even more remarkable up close. He was pale, with a light scattering of freckles across his nose and finely chiseled features. A faint reddish bristle shone attractively along his jaw. She could feel her cheeks turn pink as she shook her head to indicate that she was unharmed.

"You're overcome," he observed, his brow furrowing in concern. "Is there someplace quiet I can escort you?"

Vaguely, Elsa nodded, uncaring how weak she appeared as she clung to his arm. "There is a parlor just across the hallway," she nodded toward a door, glancing around to make sure nobody was near. He nodded, keeping one gloved hand settled at her waist while the other held hers, guiding her into the parlor. It was somewhat strange to Elsa, leaning on somebody else for support; especially somebody she didn't know and yet, it was also kind of nice. It had been so long since she'd felt the touch of another hand. Her parents had been gone for three years and it had been at least five since she'd last let them hold her. Hiding was easier; safer.

Sinking onto the loveseat near the fireplace, Elsa watched the man close the door behind him, before crossing to sit beside her. He was an athlete, that much was clear from the broadness in his shoulders and lean, tapered waist. He moved with almost cat-like grace, as if he were stalking prey. She could not allow herself to be affected by him. She was a Queen, after all, and if anyone were to walk in…

We aren't doing anything wrong, she reminded herself.

"I don't believe we've been properly introduced, my lady," he told her with a wide smile, "I am Prince Hans of the Southern Isles."

"Please call me Elsa," she heard herself reply, meeting those hypnotic emerald eyes once more. "All of this 'Your Majesty' and 'my lady' stuff is so overwhelming." She bit her lower lip nervously, noticing his eyes linger on her mouth momentarily, before moving back up to her eyes. It sent a chill through her body, which was particularly strange considering she didn't ever feel cold.

"Elsa," Hans repeated, as his mouth curved into a slow smile. Her eyes widened at the sound of her name on his lips. It was not a remarkable name in any way; short for Elisabeth. Yet, when he said it, it sounded almost…indecent which was even more horrifying because Elsa realized she liked the way it sounded coming from him. It made her feel…like a woman. She wondered, for a fleeting moment, what it would feel like to be drawn into his arms like one of the heroines in the books she so loved. How would his gleaming auburn hair feel beneath her fingertips? "I have to admit," he finally spoke, "that I've never been much for these grand affairs. I much prefer something quiet and," he lowered his voice, "intimate." It sent an odd thrill down her body to the tips of her toes.

"This is the first ball I've ever attended," she confessed, staring down at her clasped hands in her lap. "I've never even danced with anyone."

"Surely that can't be true!" He exclaimed. "A beauty like you would have a full dance card at every ball in the Southern Isles." Elsa felt herself flush at the compliment, hating herself for it. She didn't want to be one of those girls; the kind that swooned at praise and simpered to look pretty and snatch a husband.

Then again, she could do worse than a Prince…

No Elsa, she scolded silently, you cannot marry a man you just met.

But even as she thought it, the words of those cruel, haughty old crones rang in her ears. Ice Queen…Ice Queen…Ice Queen…It taunted her, filling her with indignation; with a need to prove them all wrong.

"How many girls have you said that to, Prince Hans?" She asked, tilting her head in a manner that she hoped was flirtatious. (She really had no idea.) His eyebrows rose, surprise evident in his expression; he clearly hadn't expected her to come back with that.

His mouth twisted into an amused smirk. "Your sister was wrong about you."

The smile left Elsa's face. "My sister?"

"Yes," he replied casually, leaning back against the arm of the love seat and crossing his legs, "I bumped into her quite literally with my horse this afternoon down by the docks." Toying with his glove, he quirked one brow at her. "When I apologized, I believe her exact words were 'If you'd hit my sister Elsa, it would be – yeesh."

Elsa stood, suddenly filled with irritation, horror and, most of all, hurt. Of every person in her life, Anna was the one person she'd never thought would hurt her. Even Anna thought Elsa was the 'Ice Queen'. She wanted to curl up into a ball on her bed and sob into the pillows. The insides of her gloves grew cold as her eyes welled up again.

Prince Hans stood, producing a handkerchief from the inside pocket of his jacket and offering it to her. "I'm sorry," he sighed, "I shouldn't have."

"No," she sniffed, accepting the silk handkerchief, noting the lovely embroidered initial. W. "I'm glad you did," she told him, exhaling bitterly. "It's so nice to know what people really think of me." Looking up into his face, she frowned. "Even my own sister thinks I'm the Ice Queen."

"Ice Queen…?" Hans looked slightly confused.

Elsa looked at the floor, feeling defeated. "It doesn't matter."

"For what it's worth," he took a step toward her, "I don't think you're the Ice Queen at all." His eyes held hers. "If I may be forward…?" She nodded for him to continue, willing the pounding of her heart to slow down. He took another step, so that they were toe to toe and his face was hovering above hers. "I think you're beautiful, my lady…Elsa."

"Y-You do?" She asked, hating the breathless tone of her voice. He nodded, grinning down at her. Her hands gripped the fabric of her skirts.

"I've been working up the courage all evening to ask you to dance with me," he divulged in a quiet tone, "I'm glad you weren't dancing with anyone else tonight," he went on, placing a hand on her waist. She could feel the heat of his hands even though his gloves and her clothes, which sent a spark of feeling down to her toes, making her want something she couldn't quite describe. She'd never been so close to a man. Even his scent was intoxicating, a delightful mixture of citrus and the outdoors.

"Oh…?" She managed to murmur. "Why is that?"

His eyes darkened, turning a molten emerald color in the firelight. The amber glow of the flames in the hearth danced across his lovely face. The other hand settled on her waist, pulling her closer into the warmth of his body. "Because I would have been terribly jealous, you see. I'd want you all for myself." Elsa froze, feeling the soft material of his glove against her cheek. "Forgive me," he whispered, before lowering his lips to hers in a velvety soft kiss that took the breath right out of her. It was unlike anything she had ever experienced, causing her to involuntarily cling to the lapels of his jacket, as he continued to occupy her mouth with tender, shallow kisses. She knew the proper thing to do would be to push him away and scold him; perhaps even insist that he leave this very instant, but the truth was, Elsa was tired of pushing people away. For once in her life, she was warm and she was enjoying herself.

The silken touch of the tip of his tongue over her lower lip opened her eyes wide with surprise. He pulled back slightly, searching her eyes for permission to deepen the kiss. She gave a barely discernable nod, watching with a strange feeling of excitement as his nostrils flared slightly before he took her lips again, this time more insistent. Her lips parted, allowing him entry as she attempted to follow his lead, feeling a heady rush of need. Somehow, she realized she was being lowered onto her back on the loveseat, unclasping her cape and letting it flutter to the floor in a dazzling magenta heap. Prince Hans carefully settled over her, cradling her head in his hand while the other roved over the subtle curves of her body through her layers of clothing. Elsa realized foggily that the hem of her dress had been pushed up, leaving the top of her thigh bared above the white silk of her stocking.

A strained sound of protest left her throat when he touched the sensitive skin of her leg, brushing the pale, smooth skin with the covered pad of his thumb while he dragged his lips from hers, trailing them along the column of her throat. "What is it?" His voice rumbled hoarsely against her skin.

She bit her lip, feeling slightly silly as he glanced up at her, looking like a fallen angel in the firelight. "It's just…" She glanced around nervously. "Your gloves…I wanted to feel…" She gestured helplessly, trying to convey what she was too embarrassed to say. He understood at once, grinning wickedly at her as he slowly brought his hand to his mouth and salaciously used his teeth to pull the offending garment from his hand, uncovering long, elegant fingers.

"And where shall I touch you, my queen?" He asked, stroking her silk covered ankle with the tips of his bare fingers, moving upward. "Here?" He paused at the area behind her knee, bending his head to graze his lips over the sensitive flesh, making her gasp, gripping the fabric of his coat in her fist.

You should stop right now, her conscience railed at her. Elsa knew it was right; anybody could come in at any moment and see her practically spread open for the world to see. But, when Prince Hans' finger trailed just under the top of her stocking, she no longer cared.

"Good Lord, you are so lovely," he told her, running his scalding lips over her thigh. Elsa's hips jerked forward of their own accord when she felt a jolt at the apex of her thighs as his hand roved higher still, the unconcealed tip of his finger brushing against the silky material of her undergarments. He held back, keeping his eyes locked on hers as he caressed her through the drawers, eliciting a quiet moan from her. He grinned in satisfaction, kissing her on the lips once more and giving a growl of approval as her own gloved hands gripped the front of his fine suit, holding him against her body. She struggled to get closer to him, her brow furrowing in frustration as his hips settled between hers and he ground greedily against her. Elsa sighed into his kiss, forgetting everything; forgetting that she was queen; that she had a terrible secret. For this one, perfect moment, she was just a girl who was finally beginning to understand why people craved romance. Reading about it in books had always seemed so silly; so cliché. None of her books had ever told her about this…this…unbridled passion.

A sharp noise brought them apart as Elsa realized in muted horror that the doors to the parlor had been thrown open and no less than five people were standing just inside the room gaping at the half naked queen and her flame haired lover. Hans quickly pulled her cape off of the floor, wrapping it around her and drawing her against him protectively to cover her. She clung to him wide eyed, realizing that her gloves were barely holding back the ice threatening to burst from her hands.

Don't feel…don't feel…don't feel…

"My lady," Hans whispered, "Forgive me." She could only stare, unblinking at the people who had walked into the room. At the front of the small crowd was the miniscule Duke of Weselton pointing an accusing finger at them. He was clearly somewhat inebriated, though obviously determined in his endeavor.

"I knew something suspicious was going on here!" He snapped, looking over at a stricken Kai, who had clearly tried to stop his intrusion. He looked like he'd been slapped, making Elsa want to disappear into the floor. Kai was staring at her with the same look of disappointment her father had worn whenever Elsa or Anna had gotten into trouble. "No wonder you keep the gates closed. How many suitors has the queen attempted to smuggle into this castle?"

"What's going on here?" Another voice came, pushing through the crowd of silent onlookers. Elsa's heart sank at the sight of Anna, who glanced between she and Prince Hans in clear confusion.

"No…" Elsa whispered tearfully, unable to speak any louder. "Please stop."

"Elsa?" Anna stepped forward. "What's going on here?"

"Your sister is not nearly the frigid prude she pretends to be, Princess," Weselton continued in his high-pitched drone, turning back to the queen. "How many other men have you taken as a paramour? You…temptress! Your reputation will be destroyed—"

"How dare you?" Hans cut him off in a sharp voice. "How dare you insult the Queen of Arendelle? I will not stand idly by while you fling insults at my fiancée."

Anna gasped, going pale and giving her sister a wounded look. "F-Fiancée?"

"Fiancée?" Weselton blinked.

"Fiancée?" Elsa asked the prince under her breath. "What are you doing?"

"Saving you," he murmured back, stepping forward as Elsa hurried to set her skirts to rights and put her cape back on. "You see," Hans addressed the group of spectators, "the queen has just agreed to be my wife." Turning toward her, he extended his hand to her, imploring her with his eyes to trust him. She looked away, unable to look at Anna and meeting Kai's eyes. He nodded worriedly and she realized just what she'd done by losing her head; if she didn't marry Prince Hans of the Southern Isles, her reputation would be in tatters. She would lose trade alliances and could even bring war on Arendelle by tarnishing the long standing relationships between kingdoms that her father had worked so hard to nurture. She would be laying everything her father had accomplished to waste.

She would have to marry Hans. For Arendelle.

Elsa took his hand, moving to his side and managing a shaky smile. "Yes," she agreed, "it's true."

Anna's face fell, and Elsa noticed her lower lip trembling as she shook her head in obvious disbelief. A pang of regret cut through Elsa's chest like a knife. She wanted nothing more than to rush forward and pull Anna into her arms. Her gloves turned cold and she noticed Kai's eyes move past her, set in a pensive expression. Out of the corner of her eye, Elsa saw a quickly forming layer of frost creeping slowly along the ceiling. Thankfully, nobody else seemed to notice.

"Anna," she began, but Anna shook her head before turning and fleeing the scene, pushing through the crowd. Elsa started forward, but a hand settled on her shoulder as the crowd began to disperse. Kai ushered Weselton from the room, nodding to Elsa that he would see to the Duke.

"Give her time," Hans told her gently. "She'll come around." She allowed him to put an arm around her shoulder while she attempted to slow her pulse. "We shall marry at once."

"Yes…" She agreed distantly, feeling a rush of gratitude as she buried her face in his chest. "Thank you," she told him softly.

"It is my honor, my lady," he insisted. Elsa lifted her eyes to his face, studying the fine futures of the man to whom she was now betrothed. He was beautiful, but there was something unsettling in those emerald irises of his; something she couldn't quite put her finger on. He was too calm; too unaffected. She watched him put his glove back on, watching with a sudden feeling of dread in the pit of her stomach as he pulled it on with concise deliberation. A small smile curved the corners of his lips as he took her hands back into both of his and lifted one to his lips.

"Leave everything to me, my queen…"

Elsa could only nod, wondering just what she'd gotten herself into.