A/N:

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters in this story. The characters belong to Disney. Content relating to A Song of Fire and Ice belong to G. R. R. Martin. This is a work of fan fiction.

Special thanks to Amnestyyy, who suffered the slings and arrows of outrageous American spelling after reviewing my work. You're truly fabulous :) Honorable mention to Jabberwock's Bane and Rainezeik for their encouragement and advice.

"Night gathers, and now my watch begins. It shall not end until my death. I shall take no wife, hold no lands, father no children. I shall wear no crowns and win no glory. I shall live and die at my post. I am the sword in the darkness. I am the watcher on the walls. I am the shield that guards the realms of men. I pledge my life and honor to the Night's Watch, for this night and all the nights to come."

-The Night's Watch Oath - G.R.R. Martin

Winter Has Come

Hear my words and bear witness to my vow. Night gathers, and now my watch begins. It shall not end until my death.

Hans poured Kristoff another shot of Akevitt, the liquid's hue a pale shade of amber. "Welcome to the Night's Watch," he toasted with typical aplomb.

Kristoff grunted appreciatively. "Skål." They brought their glasses together with a distinct clink and Kristoff threw back his shot, defying tradition. He could feel the slow burn down his throat and the distinct flavor of caraway. His hand reached for a tankard of brown beer, and he took a hefty swill—once again breaking with convention.

"A purist might take exception," stated Hans, with an eyebrow raised. "Akevitt's to be sipped and savored," he gently chastised. Hans raised his glass and demonstrated his appreciation by taking a dignified sip. His nostrils flared and his lips curled in pleasure.

"Well, pardon me, Mister Fancy-pantsy-prince, but when've I ever followed convention? I'm just a know-nothing ice harvester." Looking to get drunk out of his mind.

Hans smiled. "Know-nothing, I'll give you that," he remarked with his eyes full of mirth, "…but you're an ice harvester no longer. You're a member of the Night's Watch. And I'm no longer a fancy-pants, nor am I a prince."

Kristoff grunted. No, Hans was right, both their lives had changed drastically. His life as an ice harvester was forfeit. He eyed the former prince, remembering how he had hated Hans upon arrival. They were Brothers now, both dressed in plainest black—the colors, or lack thereof, of the Night's Watch. He recalled the oath taken just moments before.

I shall wear no crowns and win no glory.

It must have been hard on the former prince, who was here precisely because of his insatiable desire for both crown and glory. Not that Hans didn't deserve his fate; he had tried to kill both Anna and Elsa, after all.

Anna. Kristoff winced internally, and reached for his tankard of beer.

"You never did say what landed you here at Castle Black…" said Hans as he leaned back in his chair. He looked at Kristoff expectantly, green eyes brimming with curiosity.

"No, I didn't."

"People don't exactly come here of their own free will. I happen to know."

"Is that so?" Kristoff smiled, albeit wistfully. He remembered being unceremoniously hauled here by cart, bound and gagged. "I figured I'd move on up in life. I always fancied myself living in a big castle someday." And then it hit him. He kicked himself mentally. What a stupid remark! It brought him a little too close to what might have been. In a castle... with Anna. How could I have been so naive?

Hans smirked at the sarcasm. "Yeah, me too, he sighed, refilling their shot glasses. "Brothers."

"Brothers," Kristoff affirmed. They both threw back their shots this time, simultaneously. One step closer to oblivion.

Hans' face was almost as red as his hair. He let out a heavy breath, then shook and recovered. His eyes focused on Kristoff. "The official record has you pegged as a rapist. That's just not the Kristoff I know. I'm going to go out on a limb and speculate that our two royal acquaintances were behind your one-way delivery to Castle Black…" He studied Kristoff carefully.

"Huh… Rapist?" Kristoff's cheeks burned brightly and not just from the alcohol. "No. I think I'd just be rotting in some normal prison for that. But the thing about the princess and queen…" He took a long draught of his beer. "How does that even make sense? I'm an ice harvester… um, former ice harvester…"

Kristoff looked momentarily embarrassed. "Seriously, what are you thinking, Hans? That I was involved in some kind of sneaky, cloak and daggery business?" He swallowed heavily, feeling a bit guilty about side-stepping Hans' probe. He doubted anyone would believe his story, anyway. If anything, coming clean would've just made for more trouble and he already had an ice chest full of that. Most importantly... he was still in love with Anna, even after everything.

Anna. He felt another mental cringe coming on.

Hans leaned forward, rubbing his chin. "Nonetheless, you're here and that speaks volumes. So, cloak and dagger… hmm, no. Maybe you were just in the wrong place at the wrong time?"

Dammit. "Maybe…" How could Hans be so astute? Or was he? Kristoff could almost see the gears moving in Hans' head. He had spent enough time with the former prince to know that he was a master at reading every nuance in a person's expression. When they trained out in the yard, Hans could always spot the sandbaggers and liars, and would always call them out.

Kristoff moved his hand to the back of his head, rubbing it thoughtfully, while trying to think of what next to say. Upon his arrival, Kristoff had excelled at all things physical but had never handled a sword. Hans had recognized his potential, and took a personal interest in his development. When Hans learned that Kristoff couldn't read, he added it to his list of instruction.

"Hey, I really wanted to thank you for teaching me how to read and all the sword stuff." Lame, lame, lame. It was an amatuer dérobement, a word Hans often used during sword practice, but nonetheless, Kristoff was sincere in his gratitude. Hans had been a godsend in that respect.

Hans smiled. "And you did learn quite a bit about history and politics from all the recent reading, didn't you, Kristoff? I've noticed you pouring over the books in the library. You seem to have had a keen interest in royalty of late..."

"Uh, yeah, just curious about all that, you know? I didn't get much exposure to the outside world back in Arendelle." Kristoff commented.

Reading had opened up a new world for Kristoff. New ideas, new words… he had learned a great deal about royalty. For example, morganatic marriages… and how the offspring of such an arrangement would never be considered heirs to the throne.

"Funny thing, the whole history of politics and royalty... It's laced with stories of fratricide, patricide, treachery, lies…" Hans waved a hand dramatically. "Things often play out a lot less glamorously than the romantics would have you believe… A game of thrones perhaps? Well, I suppose it's all moot now. At least for me. And, ironically, I'm a better man for it." He refilled their glasses once again, and Kristoff carefully sipped from his this time around. "Fate seals its grip on you… once you've taken the black. I pledge my life and honor to the Night's Watch—right?" Kristoff nodded in agreement.

The conversation meandered, but often return to the circumstances of Kristoff's sentencing. They sat at the table for some time and Hans would tease Kristoff with an occasional probe—never quite putting him on the spot. Kristoff would clumsily deflect and the conversation would then veer in a different direction. In the meantime, the drinks kept coming.

Kristoff was really feeling the effects of the alcohol at this point, although he was holding on better than Hans. He was mildly surprised when Hans abruptly stood up, teetering in place. "I know you have secrets, Kristoff. We're Brothers now. For the sake of our friendship, I'll let them be. Just know that if you ever need an ear to bend…"

"Thanks, Hans."

"I think it's time I retire then." He grinned a bit stupidly. It was the first time Kristoff had seen him really drunk. "You're a good man, Kristoff. You'll make a fine Ranger, Builder, or Steward. You've got a lot of potential."

Hans patted Kristoff on the shoulder as he made his way carefully out of the Common Hall, leaving Kristoff to himself. Kristoff, stifled a laugh as he observed the normally graceful Hans exit. To be honest, he was a little sad to see him go.

Vaguely aware of the other celebrants in the Hall, Kristoff nursed his beer for quite a bit longer. He attempted to tune them out as he fell deep into thought. For the most part, he was still very much the loner, although living in a barracks had forced his hand.

To some degree, he'd adapted, but right now he very much wanted to be the old Kristoff—gruff, unpolished, and apart from the others. Once he finished off his beer, he decided to step outside. He was a little wobbly, if not altogether drunk, and figured the frigid night air would invigorate him. Donning a heavy coat, he stepped outside. There he came face to face with the winch elevator nestled by the Wall, but decided to take the great switchback stairs instead.

The ascent to the top was well over two hundred meters. Kristoff felt a little less woozy after the climb, although he was far from sober.

Ice had always played a major factor in his life… on so many levels… so it was no surprise that he'd come here, to stand atop this giant construct made of solid ice.

It was a thing of beauty and menace. Ice had always been that way for him. From sawing blocks of ice from a lake, to witnessing Queen Elsa's ice palace on the North Mountain and now this… the colossal expanse of the Wall. In each case there had been an element of raw beauty laced with varying degrees of danger.

The air was bitterly cold here, atop the Wall. It reminded him of his trips to the North Mountain… He couldn't help but wax nostalgic. But the night lights this far north were ethereal, alien, with a texture Kristoff couldn't quite describe. It was strangely humbling, and he wished he could have shared the experience with his Anna.

"Anna," he softly whispered with no one but the chill wind to hear him. He gritted his teeth, refusing to allow his thoughts to drift back to that world… back to a feisty redhead whose memory still haunted him.

Staring into the void beyond the Wall, into the Haunted Forest, into fringes of the taiga that approached Castle Black, Kristoff attempted to lose himself in its cruel beauty. Strategically placed oil lamps hung in succession at the tree line. The trees, a mixture of spruce, pine and birch, cast ominous shadows onto a clearing shrouded in snow. Together with the ambient light, it made for an eerie venue.

His eyes caught a faint movement just beyond the edge of the forest. Directly in front of him, on a rock bed laden with lichen, poked a familiar looking profile bearing antlers. Sven?

Kristoff's pulse raced. Sven? He cupped his hands around his mouth, not caring if the lookouts thought him a fool, and yelled at the top of his lungs, "Sven!" His voice echoed beyond the Wall and the poor reindeer started, turning tail and running off deeper into the forest below.

Kristoff's heart sank. Not Sven. How could he have been such a fool? Poor Sven… Kristoff rolled back on his haunches, suddenly ridden with guilt. What ever happened to Sven anyway? His only true companion before he met Anna…

"You never even said goodbye, Kristoff," he voiced with deep anguish as Sven's alter-ego.

"I wanted to… I… I was knocked out, Sven. And then I woke up in a cart."

"But no one in Arendelle knew what happened to you… Not me, not Grandpabbie, not Bulda… nobody."

"You guys probably thought I was dead. But Anna and Elsa… They knew what happened… Didn't they tell you?"

Kristoff waited for Sven's reply, but nothing came… Nothing but the howling wind atop the Wall. Yes, Anna and Elsa knew what happened… How did they explain his disappearance? Did they even bother?

His gut curled. Anna.

He was so in love with her. He was still in love with her. He remembered kissing her after she gifted him his new sled and pronounced him Royal Ice Master and Deliverer. Her lips were so soft and she smelled of summer and strawberries and everything that was good and wonderful in this world. He could remember her tiny, delicate hands in his, and how connected he felt, with those beautiful teal eyes gazing into his, full of future promise.

For once in his life, Kristoff had felt like he was headed into the realm of fairy tales…That he had found his one true love and that they would live happily ever after.

That an orphan, half Sámi, ostracized by both ethnic groups because he was neither, could ever be favored with the affections of a beautiful princess left him feeling as if he was the luckiest man on earth. He had been abandoned and then raised by trolls, left to struggle by his lonesome as an ice harvester at a very early age, and yet he felt as if he'd been truly blessed by the gods.

Oh, Anna!

They had begun courting shortly after that first kiss. "Yes, you may," echoed pleasantly through his mind. He was terrified that he would bungle this. He knew barely anything about women; he was so naive and inexperienced. But he was smitten and he hoped that his feelings for Anna would shine through and guide him along the way.

Kristoff would bring her flowers at every opportunity. Even when the weather turned frigid, he found a way. He got to know the queen during that time, would ask her about Anna's likes and dislikes, and thought that Elsa liked him in earnest, even though she sometimes seemed quiet and distant. After all, didn't he posses the same exact personality traits? She was just like him in so many ways. So many…

Kristoff stood up once more, and found that Sven's imposter had returned. The reindeer carefully grazed on the lichen below and this time Kristoff left it in peace.

He had left Sven to graze after freshly returning from an ice run. Flowers in his hand, he was hoping to surprise the princess, his princess. The guards, of course recognized him, and he had easy passage into the palace. It was fairly late in the night and as he passed by the library he thought he heard a faint giggle behind the door. Anna?

Kristoff had carefully snuck open the door, preparing to surprise his love… only to be surprised himself. Two women held each other in a passionate embrace, lips interlocked. Kristoff was ashamed to admit that his first reaction was one of arousal. Then his mind slowly took focus, and he noted the platinum blonde hair intertwined with strawberry blonde. The bouquet of flowers in his hand fell to the floor. "Anna?"

Both women startled and broke their embrace. Elsa turned, shocked at being discovered. Anna's eyes grew large as she recognized Kristoff.

"You!" shouted Elsa, her face moving from shock to fright. Kristoff barely recalled the block of ice hurling his way before he blacked out.

"True love, Sven," whispered Kristoff to Sven's imposter. "How can you fight that?" Up to that point, he was so sure that Anna had loved him in return. She had even told him so. The pain, the anguish, the betrayal Kristoff felt surged forth like an unstoppable glacier thrusting deep into his heart.

I shall take no wife... father no children. The oath he had sworn earlier today left his sundered heart in ashes, the promise of summer forever dashed. A single tear flowed down his cheek, only to be frozen in place. Winter had come.