Hello! This is just a short one shot based on Hans past. It takes place when he's 15 years old.
I do not own Hans or Frozen.
Arguing. Out of all the bad things about living in the Southern Isles palace, that was what Hans hated the most.
It would always begin with something so simple and ridiculous, but a small squabble would dig up the bigger issues—the issues that had no resolution, no escape.
Of course, Hans was never a part of them. He was just there. For 15 years, just there. Watching. Waiting for a single second when his voice would make a difference in somebody else's life, but alas, he still had no opportunities.
He wandered down the hallway, not knowing exactly where to go. Even though the palace was huge, his family was huge, and there was nowhere he hadn't already tried to find peace.
His own room was a dark place, filled with bad memories of the times he'd spent hiding from his brothers. But it was his only place, and so he hid there once again. Contemplating everything, all over again.
His fingernails dug into his palm in stress and anger. "One day," he whispered to himself. "I will make a difference, somewhere."
He closed his eyes, lying on his bed, wintry air pouring in through the open window.
Footsteps creaked closer down the hallway, as Hans hoped they wouldn't stop. He needed just a few more moments of peace, a few more moments where he could think about something other than his family.
And then they stopped.
"Hans," one of his oldest brothers, Henrik, said quietly from the other side of his bedroom door. Henrik was the only one who ever came to check on him after an argument.
Hans sighed with his eyes still closed. There was no point being silent and trying to pretend he wasn't there. But he simply didn't know how to answer.
"Hans, are you coming out?" Do I have to? was his only thought. But here was the dilemma he faced almost every day: stick to his guns and stay in his room, or give in, come out, and live in silence for the rest of his life.
"Hans, please. We're all worried about you." If that was truly the case, then they wouldn't have let him be like this.
"Even Father?"
Henrik sighed.
He didn't think so.
Hans finally opened the door, pushing past Henrik without making eye contact. This was always what happened. He always gave in.
One of these days he would find his own place, where he belonged, where he mattered to somebody. Soon. Just not yet.
Thanks for reading! This is the first story that I've published, so it would mean a lot to me if you reviewed! Any constructive criticism is very welcome.