Angel in the Snow, Demon in the Shadows 3: Three Days

(A/N: And I'm back with the third installment of my Frozen series. I actually am posting this way sooner than I'd expected to, I'd hardly even started it by the time I finished the last one, and then I got on a role and have kind of been writing steady since, so I feel comfortable enough to start posting this story now. As usual, it starts out with scene and situation building and so at times will be pretty slow, but by the time the fourth or fifth chapter rolls around, we should be into the main body of the plot. As always, I'm not sure this story will be as good as the last two were, but then I didn't think the second one would be as good as others thought it was either. Now, this chapter starts out with a slightly different format than the rest of them in that it's mostly letters, showcasing a bit of the back and forth between Hans and Elsa and the developing of their correspondence. Letters are pretty prominent for the first three or four, maybe five, chapters, but peter out afterwards. This chapter in particular is mostly letters. This story isn't as Princes of the Southern Isles focused as the last ones were, but it does feature Franz Neb a lot. He plays a large role in it as I go into his character and past a bit, and the brothers are mentioned pretty often. Jürgen Meilic has a silent but noteworthy role in the first little bit, and Prince Eric of The Little Mermaid will have a scene as well. I hope you enjoy.)

A Series of Letters

Cannon and rifle fire rang through the night. The fleets collided violently on the already stormy sea. Screams of death and pain could be heard from all angles, and screams of fear. Cries for mercy and shouted, frantic prayers echoed loudly as man after man fell in the battle on sea. Bodies could be seen tumbling overboard, killed or sent over by comrades who had no choice but to drop them or risk tripping over the remains and dooming themselves.

Water from the torrential rain ran in rivulets down the prince's face. The downpour soaked him to the bone and blinded him, as streams ran steadily into his eyes. In annoyance he wiped the rain away and surveyed the scene grimly, arms folded. "Prince Hans, we're getting nowhere! Not on either side! There has been too much blood shed. We must retreat! We cannot stand to them!"

"We're not falling to them either," Hans answered. "It's a waiting game, a test of endurance. I intend to win it."

"My lord, please! My two brothers are on that ship over there! The one under heavy siege. I promised our mother I would get us all back alive!" the sailor begged.

"Then let it be a lesson to you never to make a promise you can't keep," Hans coldly answered, though he turned to at least glance at the besieged ship.

"So then you leave them to die?!" the man demanded.

"Welcome to war," Hans answered with a scoff.

"You are no better than your father was!" the man shouted, tone anguished.

Hans viciously spun, striking him viciously across the face and sending him to the ground. He scowled dangerously at the man, eyes flashing. The sailor could have sworn he would die there and then. Not that at this point he cared. He could not and would not return to his mother without his brothers at his side. If they died, he died also. All at once, though, the prince seemed to get a hold of himself and looked towards the besieged ship again. Anger seemed to melt away into a sort of grim and bitter melancholy. "Sailor, why did you join my crew when your brothers were on the other?" Hans questioned after a moment.

"Does it matter?" the sailor asked in a broken whisper.

"No… Not to you. Not to this situation. Not to anyone but me," Hans answered.

The sailor was quiet. "I joined you because I believed you would save us; and they didn't," the man answered.

Hans felt an uncomfortable twisting in his gut. He hated that feeling, he decided. He hated it with a passion. He eyed the ship silently. "Turn the ship! Sail to defend the besieged one! They're trying to cut it off from the fleet!" he finally shouted out to his crew. They looked ready to protest, but they knew better. Reluctantly they did so, turning the ship sharply and cutting across the water to the vessel that was being herded away from the others and attacked, now on three sides. Other ships of the Southern Isles fleet, noticing the change in tactic, immediately went on the defensive, sailing to help the one in trouble. It was apparent they would be too late to save it from going down, but at least some of the men could still be rescued. Hans turned to the sailor. "You realize it was doomed long before you came to me, right?"

"I know… I also knew you were the last hope of getting anyone from it out alive," the sailor answered. "Thank you, your Highness," he added, kneeling in front of Hans.

"Get up. On the seas, in war, there's no need for formality, nor time for it. I'm not a prince here. I'm just a man." Albeit one of high rank, given his position as Admiral, but specifics and all that. He'd never cared for them.

Frozen

The ships clashed with Norway's fleets, and artillery rang out through the night. For hours more it continued. The doomed ship steadily sank, and though they tried frantically to save the men aboard, it was not to be. In the end, only five were pulled from the water alive. To the relief of the sailor, two of them were his brothers. How he had been so lucky he didn't know, nor did he want to fathom. It was nothing short of a miracle. He fell upon them, holding them tightly.

"Admiral Westergaard, we cannot drive away Norway's fleets!" a man called to Hans. "They will not be goaded into fleeing!"

Hans looked at the situation gravely. With one ship down, they were at even more of a disadvantage than they had been before. He cursed under his breath, frantically thinking of a way out. Just then canon fire rang out from the distance. All eyes turned. Calls of 'Pirates' was heard. Hans eyed the coming ships and smirked. Jürgen Meilic had come. He could have thanked the gods. He hadn't believed the pigeon was able to reach his brother. Jürgen's fleets crossed the water swiftly, cutting Norway's in half and immediately attacking before the Norse fleet even could process another enemy was in the battle. Their slower ships stood no chance against the sneak attack, and Hans began calling orders to his own ships to bring things around. Immediately they did so and soon enough victory was in sight. Norway's fleets withdrew one by one, pursued by the two princes and their naval force. Hans's ship came alongside Jürgen's. Hans looked over at his sibling and met Meilic's eyes. Meilic nodded to his brother. Hans nodded back, a silent thanks. Both princes focused on the fleeing ships once more. Soon they were gone, and Hans breathed a heavy sigh. He'd lost track of how long this battle had gone on. Three days, he believed. He hadn't slept for any of those days. He turned to address the sailors.

"Return to the Southern Isles or a near port! We all deserve a rest after this!" he called to his men. They cheered in agreement and obeyed the order as Hans went into his cabin. He felt safe doing so now, knowing his brother was looking out for them. It was a feeling he wasn't accustomed to, feeling safe with the eyes of a brother on him. Usually it was doom he felt, but in this case… In this case he couldn't help but feel it was anything but. At least this time.

Frozen

Queen Elsa of Arendelle:

It has been some time since our last correspondence. I'm afraid I've been terribly negligent in keeping you informed as to the status of this war we find ourselves in, so I shall remedy that now.

The fighting started some months ago. Moren sent battalions into Denmark and Eric's kingdom both, as well as naval fleets, to aid in the fighting. We've held our own in those places, though not without cost. It's too early to tell numbers and casualties. It has, after all, only been a few months.

The battle on the sea has not been an easy one. We underestimated the strength of Norway's fleets, and their skill. Until only recently, it has been at a stalemate. It perhaps would have stayed that way had not Jürgen Meilic and I come together and grouped up on them. Weselton's fleets do not pose as great a threat as Norway's, and their fighting force is nothing we cannot handle, so we deemed it alright to leave them for the time and focus attention on Norway. With me and my brother working in unison, Norway's fleets were soon driven back. It has earned my men and I some breathing room. Jürgen Meilic returns to finish his skirmish with Weselton, soon. Perhaps then he too will have time to restock and recuperate.

We came into a port, today. The men have gone out to the taverns—read brothels—to drink and mingle, to use polite terms, with the women. Frankly, it is embarrassing to hear their tales when they come back, and the boasts of their exploits. The stories they tell and the detail with which they tell them is enough to make me feel ill. Disgusting men. The greatest embarrassment of all is that most are married. I have half a mind to write to their wives at home, but then Franz threatened me with dire circumstances if I ever did so, and so I suppose they will never get to know of their husbands' lecherous transgressions, as much as I feel they deserve to. I never knew my men were so depraved. It's funny really, in a sadly pathetic sort of way.

Apart from that, there is little else to tell. I trust Arendelle is faring well and that no threat from Weselton has come. Otherwise I would have heard of it, I suspect.

Sincerely,

Prince Hans of the Southern Isles

Frozen

Elsa stood in the library by the window, reading through the letter and holding her chin ponderously as she took in the words. Reaching the part about the tavern and the men, she smirked and chuckled a little, shaking her head. At least it was something of a respite from the gravity of all the rest of it. Finishing the letter she moved to a desk and sat, picking up a quill.

Prince Hans of the Southern Isles:

I pray the death toll has not been great, though I am of the opinion one life lost is too many in this cursed war. It never should have come to this. I can't help but feel partially responsible. At least for Weselton's involvement in it. My best wishes to Jürgen. May his campaign against them go well.

As to the taverns and your men, I do tend to agree their wives have every right to know, but I suppose if Franz has threatened you with grievous harm, there isn't much to be done for it. Now Hans, are you really telling me that you've never put out to shore and gone to such places as that?

Sincerely,

Queen Elsa of Arendelle

Frozen

Hans frowned in vague annoyance at the insinuation in the latter part of her letter. She had probably written it to be teasing, but he was indignant nonetheless. As if he could be bothered with that kind of nonsense. He harrumphed, rolling his eyes, but smirked soon after, dryly chuckling. Her wit was amusing, admittedly. He honestly appreciated it. It was a welcome respite from all the carnage and war going on around him. Picking up a quill, he moved to the desk in his room in the castle. Thinking a moment, his smirk fell to a more serious and grave look. He sighed deeply then began to write.

Queen Elsa:

I find myself reluctantly agreeing. One life lost was too many. It will please you to know that there was, indeed, not as much loss of life as I feared there would be. There were still too many taken, though. An entire ship and crew was lost. We found only five of the men alive. Two later died of hypothermia. They, at least, were able to dictate last letters to their wives and children. It was one of the saddest sights I have ever born witness to. Fathers should not be made to go to war, in my opinion; though, I suppose if it is their choice I can hardly stop them.

Do not think, Your Majesty, that Weselton's involvement was your responsibility alone. Moren never got along with the weasel that is the Duke.

There is another threat approaching us. It promises to be an ugly battle, and so Franz will accompany me to sea this time, as a backup of sorts. I will not get away unscathed, I fear. Many lives will be lost. I dread having to write further letters of condolence. It is one of the most unpleasant tasks I could ever imagine, so let the men have their fun. It's a pity their time will not be spent with those they love.

For your information, I have not gone to such places as taverns and brothels. At least not on my own. I have accompanied Franz, now and again, but have never joined him with intent to partake in the depraved past times offered there. To speak to the women, yes, to sleep with them, no. I find that speaking to someone is much more intellectually stimulating and beneficial anyway. To both parties involved. In fact, once my habit of simply speaking prompted a young lass to quit that lifestyle, much to my personal pride. I have no interest in such things as intimacy with them—though Franz is of a certain less-than-savory opinion as to why I can handle being in such places without acting on desires; an opinion I will not share for the depravity and impropriety of it—nor do I have the time for that kind of nonsense. A few moments of temporary pleasure, then never seeing the person again, is unfulfilling and frankly depressing. I will wait for marriage, thank you very much. Perish forbid it should ever come to that. I have little use for marriage either.

Sincerely,

Prince Hans

…

Prince Hans:

By the time you receive this, the battle will have been fought, I suspect, or will be underway, and so I suppose there is no reason for me to say this, as it will arrive too late. I will say it anyway. I wish you luck in the task, and hope there will not be as great a loss of life as you fear. I hope, also, for the sakes of your brothers, that you will make it through alive so that the letter of condolence written is not to them. Live on. Do not fall in this fight.

I have to admit, I didn't honestly think you a man with character enough to be the sort for saving yourself. You have more honor, at least in that matter, than I gave you credit for. Of course then again, thinking about it now, I couldn't see you doing anything else but that. It is admirable.

Sincerely,

Queen Elsa

…

Queen Elsa:

Thank you for your well wishes, though they did indeed come late. Fortunately, there was not as much bloodshed as there could have been. Prince Eric, who also is a naval officer, arrived to help us in the skirmish. He has a surprising skill in commanding naval fleets when the pressure is on, it seems. One I never expected of him. Then again, I've never really known him well. He was a welcome aid, given Jürgen Meilic couldn't be there this time. Meilic is still in battle with Weselton. They are a weak fleet, of that there is no doubt, but they are determined unlike anything I expected from a kingdom under the Duke.

I confess, this is the only letter I have written today that has not born news of lost loved ones. It is a welcome respite. I feel as if I have failed every time I find myself writing condolences for hours on end. There are always so many. Runo—Duach—often wonders how I can somehow make each letter sound sincere. He has written so many of his own that he's taken to a template. I do not have an answer for him. I suppose I just feel like the families deserve that extra effort. It may take more time, and be more depressing, but at least they do not feel as if the letters are rehearsed and cold. It is something of an honor to their dead family members, and a show of respect and apology to them; though maybe I am just being fanciful.

As to the matter of character and honor, please do not use the term 'saving yourself'. It makes me sound like some sort of fanatic, and I guarantee you that is not the case. There is simply nothing to be gained or found in matters of lust. Some gratification, perhaps, but when that is all said and done, what is there, really? If I am going to participate in such intimacy, it will be with the one I intend to share my entire life with. Not that there will ever be any such one. You know my feelings on matters of love, and so it is unlikely any marriage born of such a thing will ever occur. Marriages of convenience are no more likely. I am the thirteenth prince. As such I am the least desirable. I am worth the least, would bring the least, and frankly am merely a last resort when there is no other option. In fact, father hardly bothered trying to make matches for any of us after Franz.

I hear my men returning from another drunken night on the town. Oh joy. More tales of debauchery and depravity. Of course having twelve older brothers, half of which are or were married, it isn't anything I haven't heard before, I suppose. It is no less pleasant to listen to. I smell the alcohol from here. I must admit I'm sorely attempted to throw them all in the brig and keep them there.

Sincerely,

Prince Hans

…

Prince Hans:

I am sorry that you had to go through that. I cannot imagine how it must have felt. I understand what it is to watch someone dying and to feel powerless to save them. I have felt it with you, more than once. You, though, pulled through. To try and picture how it would have felt if you hadn't proves a task I cannot bring myself to imagine, and this is despite our less than fond views of one another. You had to watch men you actually cared for die, unable to save them. I wish I could do more than apologize.

Your sentiment as to the intimate touch in your letters of condolence is not fanciful, your Grace. I find myself agreeing with it whole-heartedly. They do indeed deserve that extra effort and care. I am glad to hear you grant them it, and surprised. For that I am sorry. Sorry that every time you do something decent, or confess to a good deed, that I am taken aback.

Regarding your beliefs as to your value in the political span of things, I think, perhaps, you consider yourself as of less worth than you are.

As to the matter of your inebriated compatriots and what you would like to do to them, wish what you will, but restrain yourself, Hans. I'm sure you can handle drunken, lust stricken, seamen. Either that or you could lock yourself away, I suppose. It may work too. Best of luck to you in dealing with them.

Sincerely,

Queen Elsa