Soli Deo gloria
DISCLAIMER: I do NOT own Frozen. *Peeps out from under a rock* Hiiiiiiii. So, this comes from what Hans'd said when he was evil-villain-monologuing-his-evil-plan to Anna in the little parlor room: 'As heir, Elsa was preferable, of course, but no one was getting anywhere with her.' In short, a writing attempt at Hans trying to, for a lack of a better term, seduce Elsa.
All the guests at the Queen's coronation flooded out onto the cobble-stoned street, to the cheers of the populace. The peasant folk of Arendelle gathered along the edges of the street, clapping heartily, waving handkerchiefs, cheering madly. Their first glimpses of their two princesses for the first time in forever, and they were beautiful ladies. The Queen, Elsa, walked regally, calmly, her hands clasped in front of her, her walk composed and a demure smile on her face. Her younger sister, Anna, three years her junior, walked behind her. Her attempt at poise and grace like her elder sister was a good one, her walk controlled her hands in position, but her cheerful baby face, with her bright eyes and noticeable freckles, showed enthusiasm and a glow of love for all the kingdom around her. Children atop their father's shoulders nearly fell over, cheering and calling her name with abandon. She'd wave at them with the tiniest of suppressed grins, winning them over in a heartbeat.
Behind them in an orderly, regal procession came the guests, the royals from overseas; representatives of Spain, Germany, England, the princess and prince of Corona, lords and ladies from varying courts, dukes, duchesses, cousins of royals, lesser princes whose job were visiting other countries to keep up appearances rather than rule over their kingdom of origin, and surrounding in a wary but gay perimeter were many grey-cloaked guards, holding their muskets in a celebratory stance rather than as a measure of caution. Still, the Captain kept a strict eye out; it was the first time in years since Anna had left the palace, and only more so for their new reigning monarch. The layer of caution was palatable, regarding the fact that they were the only two women left of the royal bloodline of Arendelle. Their protection was of utmost importance. Without them, who would lead Arendelle?
The parade was a momentous occasion; when it came to a stop in front of the threshold of the tall, stately palace gates, all breaths were held, eyes popping, seconds passing, as Elsa passed through the gates, earning her an eruption of cheers from her subjects.
Inside the courtyard of the palace were allowed citizens who'd squeezed their way into coveted spots that held the most potential for the best views of their ruler. As she entered, more and more exploded with applause and celebratory cheers. She was a picture of her father, straight-backed and emitting the air of solemnity, but held the beauty of her mother, her elegance and poise. Never had such a queen been conceived to have been the hidden princess inside the palace walls!
Elsa led the way up the stairs, smiling patiently at all her clamoring subjects, and walked down half a length of one of the walls of the palace. Breathing in deeply, she turned to face her beloved crowd. Her head high, her crown catching twinklings of the golden sun, her hands cupped slightly in front of her beautifully stitched dress, her mere presence caused a silence to sweep over the crowd. Their voices quieted with hushes, and they stood on tiptoe, full of admiration and anticipation, for their Queen to speak.
"My people of Arendelle," Elsa said, her voice strong and echoing across the entire courtyard and far into the village. (She projects well, Anna thought, as she stood by a guard and watched her sister wistfully.) "It has been three years since the deaths of our most honored rulers, His Highness King Berit and Her Highness Queen Agnes. My parents. Our country has mourned our loss, and our kingdom has been maintained in their grieved absences by the court of magistrates. Until now. I stand before you now as your Queen. I know it is my duty to uphold the laws of Arendelle, to protect its citizens from her enemies, and to make her prosper. I will do my duty to the best of my ability. My father and mother's steps are hard to follow, but I will not stray from the path they were on." Elsa bowed her head and stepped back, breathing in shaky air as trumpets blew with flags of Arendelle bearing their crest flying in the wind. The silence broke as the crowd erupted into ecstatic, patriotic clapping, singing, and shouting, "Long life the Queen! Long live Queen Elsa!"
Hans stood halfway up the staircase, and unlike the by-and-large of the crowd, he'd'nt kept his eyes captivated by Elsa throughout her entire speech. He gripped the staircase railing, cast an eye over the parapets and towers, over the magnificent Arendellian merchant ships, over the vast courtyard, the scuttling, obedient servants, the stained glass windows; the picture of a perfect palace. He'd have to examine further, explore the innards, the huge rooms, 'be lost' whenever a servant'd stop him, apologizing in his kindest, most sincere voice, with a touch of charm. They'd buy his story hook, line, and sinker. The whole of Arendelle, from the minute he'd stepped off his ship that morning, was the total picture of kindness. He'd laughed to himself after someone took care of his horse, offered him a drink, directions to the chapel. These people were so simple-minded, so dumb, that it'd be easy to rule over them. Their hearts were easily won, if Elsa indicated anything. She'd barely been spotted by a single citizen outside of the palace staff for the past thirteen years, for goodness' sake! And so easily did they accept her rule! Hans could almost roll his eyes at the simplicity of Arendelle's common folk.
Elsa disappeared behind a door in a tower, and Hans frowned. If he was going to have a chance to talk with Elsa, he'd rather have it sooner than later. Anna had easily been overwhelmed by his charm; Elsa, cool, collected, elder Elsa, the sister with the power of the throne, would be a little trickier, far more intelligent and not quite so naive, but, Hans enjoyed a challenge.
A space of perhaps four hours was between the coronation and the grand ball. This gave plentiful time for the high-ranking guests to be shown into their rooms, generally settled, with the palace servants taking care to not wrinkle their elegant ball gowns and pressed suits as they unpacked their heavily carved trunks, bathed, dressed, and powder their faces. Hans's baggage was carried in and packed away by obliging servants, and he'd already been dressed in his suit that morning for the coronation. So once his room was emptied of servants, Hans simply took a comb to his hair, admiring himself in the mirror as he arranged himself into a perfectly composed, irresistible temptation.
"Now, she may have a reputation for being standoffish and cold," Hans said to himself, one hand moving his chin so he could make smooth his sideburns. He'd already talked pleasantly with the provided servants, earning him a few words about the Queen off the public spotlight. He chuckled to himself as he stood back and laid down his comb. "But then, she hasn't met me." He slipped on his elegant white gloves and shut the door carefully behind him, looking up and down the halls for anyone to ask him what he was doing. No such visitor came up and down the royally decked halls, so he took a casual, confident stride down the hall. According to the answers he received to some gently asked questions aimed at the porter, all the rooms along this wing of the palace were reserved for royal guests. With a little logic and calculating, he deduced that the lower floor was no doubt out of question, so he continued wandering down the hall, whistling cheerfully, and watching for a sign of the Queen's suite. A forward move, but Hans knew that you always had to be two steps ahead of the game, to keep the element of surprise in play.
The palace, decorated for the occasion of the coronation, was nearly vacant on this floor. Hans attributed the lack of servants to be due to the ballroom's being set up. He looked out a latticed window once or twice, to catch a glimpse of the harbor and the courtyard. She wouldn't linger outside, would she, if she was prone to hiding behind walls?
But after a frustrating and wasteful half hour of trekking, Hans came to glancing out one window to see the Queen walking amongst the flowers in the private gardens off the wall. He gave a sigh of disdain and impatience as he hurried down the grand staircase, his gloved hand barely touching the smooth, dustless banister. He hurried past the greeting butlers, guards, and maids as he came upon a beautiful set of double doors to the rear of the palace. He pushed them open with the brunt of his hands, revealing himself to the gorgeous gardens of the palace.
He ignored the singular beauty of the spring-brushed grass, pond, toparies, and flower beds and paths, and, setting his jaw, latched his eyes on his prey. Elsa, sighing to herself on a stone bench, and watching the ships over the way slip away from port. Hans cleared his throat, arranged his white tie, and made his way to his challenge. First impressions were important; he knew exactly what to do with a challenge. Win her over gently. Severely if it became apparent for him to do so.
His foot slipped, kicking a rock, and Elsa's head jerked up, her eyes alert like a startled deer. She squinted, trying to decipher the noise, as Hans came into view. "Oh, excuse me," he said apologetically. "I'm sorry if I startled you, Your Highness. Sometimes I get clumsy."
Elsa straightened her back, said calmly, "It's quite all right."
Hans's head tipped around, as if he was being awestruck by the beauty of the gardens. "This is a beautiful place. Do you spend a lot of time here?" His object: to keep the conversation centered on her, and if it dared fall on him, make sure he was set in a self-deprecating light.
Elsa gave him a raised eyebrow, but answered calmly, "No. I actually spend a lot of my time in the palace."
"Preparing for royal duties? Congratulations on your coronation, Your Highness," Hans said, bowing deeply. He looked up with a tiny glimmer of hope in his eye. "Or, if I'm not too forward, Elsa?"
"Too forward," Elsa said stiffly.
Hans resumed his straight-back posture. "Of course, Your Highness. My apologies."
"Apology accepted," Elsa said curtly. A second passed before she asked with the tiniest bit of annoyance, "Why are you not in your room getting ready for the ball tonight? It's less than two hours away."
"I'm ready right now for the ball. I'm going to enjoy myself." He put on a genial smile. "I don't often get to attend balls with such prestigious and heartwarming company such as your guests, Your Highness," Hans said. He took a step toward the bench, something he hoped came off as innocent and friendly; Elsa noticed and shifted further down the bench, wanting to give off the aura of wanting to be left alone.
"I'm glad you could join us. I imagine it is hard to get away from your brothers. You're from such a large family; must be very loud and exciting all the time," Elsa said politely. (Her court had had her learn basic information about the guests from other countries, for reasons she couldn't understand and didn't care to. Probably for conversation's sake.)
"Not as much as one would think. Mostly it's lonely. I'm the thirteenth son, the youngest, and nobody, well, nobody remembers me or even takes notice of me, even at the dinner table!" Hans said, hoping to garner sympathy.
But Elsa was only listening with a half-hearted attempt to make conversation. The other half of her heart was seething with irritation; why won't he go away? I have to be left alone.
Hans earned no half-gasp or sympathetic word to his horrible plight. He cleared his throat and said, "Elsa—"
"Your Highness, if you please," Elsa said mercilessly, wishing and wishing he'd leave. Two minutes in his presence and she felt the cold surge through her veins, growing lower and lower in temperature and setting her teeth on edge.
"Your Highness," Hans quickly amended, "would you like to have a stroll about the gardens? This fresh sea air, it's so invigorating; I'd love to experience the fine atmosphere of Arendelle before I leave all-too-quickly for the Southern Isles." He offered his elegant hand in a gesture to assist her standing up.
Elsa made no such move to stand up. If possible, she planted herself further against the bench. "No, thank you. I'd rather sit right here."
"May I sit next to you, Your Highness?" Hans quickly said.
Elsa withheld a sigh. "If you wish," she said obligingly, holding her hands close to her chest as she breathed deep. He is getting too close.
Hans did wish, so he did so, and slid too close, so Elsa moved away, feeling as if this gentleman was not acting quite as gentleman-like as he should've been raised, and folded her arms over her chest so she could concentrate on keeping her feelings under control. This man, this prince, she thought with a cold heart, was trying to exploit any innocent feeling or manner she might show towards him. She wouldn't allow it.
"Your Highness, I was wondering—perhaps, tonight at the ball, you would give me the honor of dancing with you?" Hans ventured.
"I don't dance," Elsa said, sounding distant.
Hans chuckled. "Many a lady has walked on me with two left feet and I believe I've survived—"
"Thank you for the offer but I simply don't dance. End of the question." Elsa turned away so her back was to Hans. She bristled but focused on keeping her anger under control. She would rather die than be betrayed into striking Hans with her ice powers.
Hans felt his pulse quicken with anger at this rejection, but said, "I'm sorry if I offended you. After all, you're the Queen of Arendelle, I'm only a lonely prince—"
"I accept your apology. Please stop asking for forgiveness." Elsa stood up and walked down the path, saying quietly, frantically under her breath, "Excuse me."
"Might I escort you back into the palace—" Hans stood up, frantically trying for a chance at something.
"No thank you," Elsa said coldly, her back to him. "I've been raised in this palace and I'm sure I can find my way back inside it."
"Elsa—" He took a step forward, clamping down on his jaw to keep from giving way to his anger. She was so slippery and aggravating.
Elsa turned and gave him a cold stare, with furrowed eyebrows, tight lips, an angry sneer. Hans froze and she said, her voice fighting to stay calm, "I am perfectly capable without your help. And, Hans, please remember there are other royals besides me at the ball who'd rather dance with you, royals far more interested in your unorthodox advances." She waited for him to fall over his feet apologizing for his forwardness now, but instead he said calmly, "I'll see you at the ball, then, Your Highness."
Elsa gave him a curt nod. "Good evening, Prince Hans." Then she turned on her heel and hurried as fast as a lady could walk into the palace, to escape into the confines of her room until the ball was announced via trumpets.
The double doors closed, and Hans cursed, mopping his face with a frustrated hand. His face gave way to his temper, showing just how annoyed he was. "What a stubborn woman," he muttered. He sighed discontentedly and stood up, wiping away imaginary dust off his pristine pants, and then smiled. Indeed, "Elsa's right. There will be other royals at the ball." He laughed a little. "Like her sister." With that to cheer his mood, he walked down the path, saying to himself, "This should be easy." He put on his most innocent, charming, friendly smile. He wanted to look his best to win Elsa's poor little sister's naive, tender, loving heart.
HANS. BAH. Thanks for reading, my lovelies! God bless you!
