When his father had mentioned the castle getting new defense, Hans had simply thought that his father was going to be bringing in new soldiers. Never once had it crossed his mind that he would be getting a body guard.
A body guard, Hans thought. As if I'm helpless and have no way to protect myself. His hand ran to the hilt of his sword, and he was tempted to pull it out of its sheath and show it to the world. For years, he had trained on how to properly use a sword, going through fight after fight. At first he had been constantly beaten, but he had always made sure that he rose up from the ground and continued fighting, until he soon had a list of his own victories.
Besides, what would anyone want with him? He wasn't the heir, nor was he the spare - he was just the little boy that came on accident, and added another royal mouth to feed. Hardly anyone in the kingdom knew his name, so why would anyone even think of kidnapping him?
(He would close his eyes some night and dream of it happening, though. Ruffians and thugs would take him, hold a knife to his neck and present him before their king. They would list off their wishes, and the king would simply turn away from them and let the knife slip through Hans's neck. The king's only problem would be that the royal carpet was stained. And then he would wake up in a sweating bed, awaking to a world where the royal carpet was still clean, and that still covered his footsteps when he walked.)
His protests remained in his mind. If being the youngest of thirteen brothers and five sisters, all of whom were older than him, had taught him anything, then it was that no one cared about him. He wasn't the family's baby, nor did anyone take any real notice of him for too long.
"Why the long face, Hans?" Wilma, his older sister, asked. She was braiding her long red hair by herself, without using a mirror. Her hands raced through her hair with ease and grace.
"I was just thinking."
She raised an eyebrow. "Is something wrong?"
"I was just thinking about having a body guard."
"Ah," she responded. "I understand." She chuckled. "I had the same worry before mine was brought in. I was afraid that the muscular woman would completely overshadow me, and take away any attention from me. What was worse, was that I feared she would not like me or be rude. It turned out that Gerda was everything that I had not expected." Her lips turned into a small smile. "I do quite like her."
"That's good." Hans looked away from her.
"I hear that the very last of the body guards will be arriving soon. Gerda lived only a few towns away, so it was not a long journey for her to take to reach the palace." Wilma, seemingly satisfied with her braid, removed her hands from her hair. "I have heard that yours is from all the way in Arrandell."
It took a moment for Hans to recognize the name. Arrandell - he had heard the name in his studies. Their main export was ice, and they rarely opened their gates for anyone. With that cold, secretive, and short description, it did not sound like Hans would be getting anyone nice.
"I hear that the ship will arrive soon. Perhaps you should wait there at the dock; if you are nervous, then surely your body guard must be as well. Believe me, Gerda was quite nervous when she first met me. When I touched her large hands, they were covered in sweat."
"Why should I go?"
She frowned. "Like I said before, it reassures them. He is probably afraid of you as well."
He's a body guard, Hans thought. What should he be afraid of?
"I suppose I'll go," Hans responded. His schedule was almost never filled, and he could use the sun. Besides, very few of his family members took the time out of their day to talk to him, and Wilma at least seemed to genuinely care, no matter how short their conversations. "Thank you."
She turned, heading off for another part of the castle. At the door stood her body guard Gerda - about Wilma's age, with long, jet black hair, small eyes that seemed to take in everything in the room, and dark skin. She was large and muscular, so different from his petite sister. She smiled down at the smaller girl, and even without seeing Wilma's face he knew that she smiled back.
When the day the ships were expected to arrive came, he took Wilma's advice. The bitterness of needing a body guard had worn off slightly; there was just no way to get past the king's pride, so he might as well just try and please his father, if only a little.
He hadn't known what to expect of his body guard, but it was certainly not the man before him. Like Gerda, he was tall and muscular, but he was also smiling, with clear, kind looking brown eyes. The only supplies he had brought was what he could put on his back.
Oh, and he brought a reindeer with him.
"You are Hans, I assume?" He froze for a moment. "I mean Prince Hans, Your Majesty."
"Hans," Hans responded. "Only Hans will do."
The man let out a sigh of relief. He pushed his large hand forward. "My name is Kristoff." His smile widened, and for a moment Hans's eyes could not leave his face.
Perhaps he should have taken Wilma's advice and remained optimistic.
Kristoff did follow him around everywhere, but it was hard for the man not to. Though Sven, his reindeer, had grown used to the stables and its endless supply of free hay and carrots, the former ice harvester knew nothing of the Southern Isles. Hans had to show him.
"And that there is one of our oldest, and perhaps most boring, monuments," Hans said.
Kristoff burst out laughing. "Do you always tell it like it is?"
"Only when I need to," Hans replied. He motioned for the man to follow him. "Come on, there's still a lot more to see."
Kristoff nodded, adjusting the small backpack that he always carried with him. The only other thing strapped to his back was a battle axe; considering the way people looked at him with fear, Hans doubted that he would ever be kidnapped.
Hans led him forward.
As he did, he began to notice things about the Southern Isles that he had never noticed before. Most days, he simply stayed in the castle reading or finding someone to hit swords with. Now, he spent his whole day with Kristoff at his side, showing him around.
The man would accidentally brush up against him sometimes and make a quick apology. Like always, Hans would explain that it was just fine. After all, no harm was done, even if Hans's heart fluttered and he tried to accidentally brush up again with the other man.
His father had hired Kristoff to follow Hans everywhere and to defend him at all costs, as he had done for all the body guard's of his children.
And Kristoff did follow him, even into his bedroom.
Kristoff was the one to meet their lips. "And this is fine with you?"
"Kristoff, I couldn't ask for anything more from you."
The blond's eyes sparkled.
Hans's eyes rarely looked over to the door. A perk, he supposed, of being the youngest child and the one everyone ignored was that no one ever came into his room looking for him. He didn't even need to lock the door; already, he and Kristoff had all the privacy in the world, and he planned to use it.