Disclaimer: I do not own Frozen or anything else recognizable in this work belonging to Disney. This work is purely fictitious and any characters resembling recognizable, real persons both living or otherwise is coincidental and unintentional.
[Edit 17 July '16: Now that I have a pretty clear direction of where this story is going, might as well warn people ahead of time that this story is dark. As the title of this story suggests, this plot contains death, and torturous depictions of death. And more dark things. If any of this might upset you, turn back now.]
Author's Note: There's a certain scene referred in here that spoils a bit of Frozen Fever. Hopefully you guys don't mind. If you guys didn't notice it, or don't really care, then pay no heed to the warning.
Birth of the Myth
Under the setting sun, Hans, the insidious thirteenth prince of the Southern Isles, was debased to harvesting the palace's wheat fields. Originally, he was assigned to mucking the horses' stalls for an indeterminate amount of time as punishment. That is until the "snow incident," as his brothers liked to call it.
Not too long ago, as he was shoveling the horses' excrement into a wagon, a giant snowball had literally come out of the sky and stunned him into the pile of manure. When he had to explain his sudden stop in work activity to the stable master, there wasn't enough time to come up with a reasonable explanation except for what really happened. Of course, in the heat, the snow had melted rather quickly, hiding all evidence of the phenomenon that reminded him so much of the "Snow Queen" of Arendelle.
When the story reached his brothers, they decided that the fumes were driving their littlest brother crazy and assigned him to the harvest, because they were "oh-so-merciful" and wouldn't allow a man to continue to be driven insane.
Hans seethed in anger as he reflected on these events. He was not insane, and Fate was a cruel mistress to allow such an impossible thing to happen. He knew it was Queen Elsa. Everything about that woman screamed impossible. Here he was, just trying to carry out his punishments in his homeland, and she somehow continued to ruin his plans even across the sea. It didn't help her case in the fact that, of all the things to wreck it all, it was snow.
He never really liked the humiliating work of being a stable boy coming from his former responsibilities as a prince, but he did miss the occasional interaction he had with his own horse, Sitron. He would have at least some semblance of normalcy… That is, if it wasn't for her.
Hans raked the scythe rhythmically in front of him, using it as a distraction to help school his features into one of displeasure instead of burning hate. Too many people were watching over him from the fence surrounding the field, and even a little slip hinting that he was losing it wouldn't do in his brothers' eyes. Even if such assumptions were false.
He didn't dare have another change in assignment. While being the the sole stable boy was bad, his horse helped ease things a bit. Being the sole wheat harvester? If the manure fumes didn't drive him crazy, just eyeing the incredibly large plot of land for one person to rake through with a rusty scythe was just about the last straw, pun unintended. He didn't want to think about what would happen with another reassignment. While his brothers dreaded to follow through with executing him for his crimes in Arendelle, in some ways their alternative punishments were worse.
A punishment worse than death though? He wouldn't say as much, but he felt that letting him continue to wallow in his anger while having no power to act on them was a living hell. He deduced that if he were a different person, he wouldn't mind, but his whole life was filled with spite and being powerless. Having twelve older brothers that couldn't care less about your well-being did that to you. Even if their recent actions tried to prove otherwise.
At least he knew they had consciences, since they didn't want the blood of family on their hands. Sadly, it seemed he himself did not, since he felt no remorse over trying to kill two innocent people. The sun behind Hans still crept slowly into the horizon, slow enough to show that his workday wasn't finished. There was still enough light to see the work in front of him, and would still be the case until twilight.
Hans wiped the sweat off his brow and pulled out a whetstone from his pocket. He ran the stone back and forth against the blade of the scythe, careful not to touch the sharp edge with his hand. He still had the nasty wound the first time he tried to sharpen the thing. It was a wonder it hadn't gotten infected with how much rust and dirt was on the scythe.
"Oh, that's so inconvenient," a feminine voice lilted behind Hans. He flinched upon the sudden intrusion of solace, but played it off as if he pulled a muscle for the overseers. He casually turned to see the origin of the voice, hoping it would seem like he was looking at the sunset.
"Back to work!" One of the overseers barked from his post at the fence.
Hans grumbled to himself when he didn't see who spoke to him and returned to sharpening the blade.
"Here, this should help ease the work," the voice sang again. The blade of the scythe shimmered for a few moments and returned to normal. Well, almost normal. The blade was no longer rusted and caked with grime, and its surface gleamed enough that Hans could see his reflection, as well as a tiny floating creature above his shoulder. The creature giggled and flew in front of Hans' face, gesturing to the whetstone. "Now, there's no need for that thing anymore."
Hans raised his brows, wondering if he had, in fact, gone completely mad.
"Oh, don't give me that look. It's not like you humans aren't aware of the pixies' existence," the creature said.
"Get back to work, I said!" The overseer yelled. Hans, dumbfounded, went back to cutting down the wheat. The ease of the blade gliding through the stalks didn't dissuade the dreamlike feeling he was experiencing.
"What, cat got your tongue? Don't want to associate yourself with anything magical after your brief stint with the Queen of Arendelle?" the pixie prodded.
"You aren't real. I might have lost my sanity, but they don't know that," Hans whispered to the pixie, against his good judgment. Was it even considered "good judgment" anymore?
"Believe what you want, it doesn't change the fact that I'm not quite finished with you yet."
"I'm quite done with you, so let me just continue with the harvest. Though I must thank you for making this much easier."
"Ah, but that's why I'm here. There's an even better harvest that I need you for."
Upon hearing her statement, Hans resisted the urge to stop his work and getting reprimanded a third time. Resigned to whatever current situation he was experiencing, he sighed and acquiesced to the niggling of curiosity at the back of his mind.
"What do you want?" Hans whispered.
"Uh uh, it's not about what I want. After all, I can get whatever I want with the wave of my hand. No, it's about what you want."
Remembering the short tales that was read to him when he was little about pixies, the one lesson he knew to be learned about them was that they wanted nothing but mischief. Curses hidden behind a façade of a blessing, changing appearances to mess with a person's beliefs about reality; anything to sate their thirst for causing chaos. That is to say, if this "pixie" wasn't a part of his imagination. Though whether or not she was real, she was already messing with his mind.
"I'll take your silence as an invitation to continue," the pixie said while he was still mulling over the reality of what was going on. "All your life, you were powerless. You had no hope of ever having any control in your life. It infuriated you when you realized that, though you are a prince, in everyone's eyes you were no better than a commoner." The pixie giggled, a dark tone reverberating with the sound. "But what if I gave you power? You would be unstoppable, and everyone would have to bow to your every wish."
"Ah, but what if I don't want power?" Hans asked, a mask of indifference upon his face. He wouldn't lie that what she said sounded promising, but maybe he would be able to get something even better out of her if he played his cards right. After all, he was known to be a very good actor and manipulator, the very reason for his punishment was the first scenario that came to mind. If the pixie was, in fact, real and couldn't read his mind, he might be able to pull it off.
"Oh, Prince Hans, you flatter me thinking that you can out-con a pixie. But very well, I'll humor you. Regardless, I'm giving you power. Though what you do with it is what you decide. Perhaps... enact a bit of revenge?" Her tiny face grinned smugly when Hans' grip on the scythe slipped and caused his next swing to arc short of it's usual length.
"Revenge, you say?" Hans asked, continuing to pretend disinterest. "What makes you think I have any need for revenge?"
"I've been watching you for quite a while, Prince Hans of the Southern Isles. Bitter and angry for having been cast aside as a spare child growing up, your existence denied by a few of your siblings. And when you finally had an opportunity to make something of yourself, shamed and considered an outcast by an ally country and your own. Yes, I think you're a bit due for some revenge. Where you start though, I won't judge. I just want to be a casual observer. Though I will admit that there is a wager my fellow pixies have on you on what your decisions will end up being. It's been a while since we've tried anything of this magnitude being of our influence."
The pixie flitted to his hand that gripped the top handle of the scythe, her face pondering as she watched him work. Her face molded into an expression that belied that she had an idea that was forming before returning to her hover in front of the prince's eyes.
"The desire for revenge or power, or not, it will certainly be interesting. I'm sure that curiosity is a part of you as it is with all men, so why not indulge in it for a while? It's not like you have any way to escape this drudgery within your own power. So why not a pixie's?" She brushed her dark locks away from her face and crossed her arms. "If whatever I said intrigues you, meet me here at midnight. I'm sure that you can tell where the moon is from your cell tonight. Oh, and if you do come, remember to bring that thing." She wiggled her fingers, pointing to the harvesting tool in Hans' hands.
With a wave, the pixie flew off into the distance, the only evidence of her appearance being the renewed blade of the scythe that whacked cleanly through the wheat.
###
Hans laid awake in his cell, staring at the rays of moonlight that filtered through the bars from outside. There hadn't been another appearance from the pixie, which he wasn't going to completely rule out for being imagined just yet. There were more guards than usual watching him through the open space of the door to his cell, the overseers noticing him talking to no one in particular earlier. He kicked himself mentally for forgetting that detail.
He almost laughed at the concern on his brothers' faces when confronted about this detail as soon as his work was over for the day. There was no doubt that he would be reassigned again, regardless of how much effort he put out to avoid it. Still, it would be another few days before they decided to toss their youngest sibling to another place for demeaning hard labor. Or, if luck would have it, toss him into an insane asylum.
Though, he wouldn't not welcome such a decision at this point. It was a wonder his family hadn't made any moves to do so yet, since all his actions proved he needed such a facility. But whatever reputation that he hadn't yet destroyed with his actions in Arendelle, his family didn't want to soil it further by admitting to the fact that the royals of the Southern Isles has blood-related insane family members. As a last resort, of course, but they hadn't exhausted their resources yet, it seemed.
It was close to midnight, if he gauged the position of the moon correctly, and the proposal from the pixie still ran through his mind. What if she was real? What if whatever she said she would do, would happen? And she was right, there was no way that he could do anything in the situation he was in at this moment. He might not even get another chance at this.
Mind made up, he decided to at least entertain the possibility for a while longer.
Knocking on his door, he caught the attention of one of the guards assigned to watching him.
"Is there any possibility that I can go outside? I can't sleep right now," he asked him, trying to work his deceptive charm into his words.
"No," the guard responded.
"But I was thinking about all the wheat I'm going to end up picking up in the hot sun. Maybe I can get a bit of a head start?"
The man whispered among his fellow guards, as if they were debating Hans' words.
"I will bring this up to the king. He will decide," the guard said after a few moments of deliberation and walked towards the entrance of the prison cells. Hans wrinkled his forehead in frustration. He didn't have enough time. It seemed that he was going to have to act desperate.
"Please! I beg of you! I'm going insane just sitting here with nothing to do!" He pulled at his hair for emphasis, flashing his eyes side to side to help drive the act home. He inwardly cringed at how easy it was to play the part of being driven crazy. It made him wonder if it even was an act for the briefest of moments.
The guards outside his cell flinched. They probably knew about his family's fears of Hans losing his sanity. The guard closest to his cell brought out a ring of keys and unlocked the door before anyone else knew what was happening.
"Alright, go ahead. But we'll be accompanying you. You there," the key ring guard pointed to the guard heading towards prison entrance. "Tell the king of his whereabouts. Meet us in the field when you are finished. The rest of you, follow him with me." He swung the door open wide for Hans to exit. Hans had to suppress the urge to grin at how well he was able to manipulate them, though he didn't hide his exhale of relief.
"Thank you so much. I have nothing to repay you with but my eternal gratitude," Hans said, grinning widely. He hoped that they didn't realize that his smile wasn't genuine, but then again, he was able to fool a lot of people in the past.
###
At the field, he made sure to make a detour to the tool shed, remembering the pixie's request that he bring it. The blade still shone like a flawless mirror, its edge still wickedly sharp. The wound in his hand ached as he remembered how sharp it could be before the pixie's interference. Now, though, he wouldn't be surprised if he could fell trees with a single swing. The guards rested their hands uneasily on the hilts of their swords when he walked out with the tool in his hands.
"Relax, I just need this to harvest," he said. Hans was displeased to see that they didn't move their hands away from their weapons. Oh well, he could still make do. Just no sudden movements. To make it seem that he was going to pick up the wheat, he made sure to drag a cart behind him and picked up a bag of twine along the way.
With the guards still within arms distance of him as he reached the end of the field where he ended his scything earlier, he set the scythe on the wagon and knelt down to the ground and grabbed the wheat. When he felt that he had a good bundle, he went to grab at some twine and realized that the guards around him had collapsed. The pixie fluttered in front of him, her arms crossed.
"Tsk, tsk. I was hoping there wouldn't be any interference when I asked you to come at this time," the pixie said, all previous playfulness in her voice from earlier a distant memory. "No worries, they'll make good practice before we're done here. At least you follow directions." She eyed the scythe resting on the wagon. "Yes, a good harvester knows to follow directions." Her grin was dark, a contrast to the plethora of colors encompassed in her miniature dress. There was no denying that the pixie was real at this point, since the proof was laid around him in heaps of knocked-out guards.
"And you mentioned a 'better' harvest. Care to explain?" Hans asked.
"There's a bit of a problem the other pixies and I have had to deal with in the past few months. The land is restless around these parts ever since the sudden explosion of winter in Arendelle. Of course, you non-magical humans could care less about it, since it doesn't affect you, but the flow of magic in my domain has gone haywire. Being its caretakers, we've had to appease the land in ways that are... unsavory, to say the least. Unfortunately, the land sees that it is the humans that wronged it, so the humans must be the ones to calm it down.
"You see, we've considered Queen Elsa to be the one to fix this mess. But where's the fun in that? She's too nice and self-sacrificing to do anything amusing with what she's been gifted with. You on the other hand, are just the man we're looking for. I mean, why not? It would be more fun to see what a man of your reputation would do with power. Two birds with one stone, if I remember the saying correctly."
"That doesn't quite answer my question," Hans pointed out.
"The land experienced a sudden death with the coming of winter in the middle of summer," the pixie continued, making no indication that she heard the prince. "Summer should have been a time of liveliness, and the land did not take well to the abruptness of its death without the invitational transition through autumn. So, it demanded of us pixies the death of those who wronged it. The land not favoring of persons, saw that, since it was a human that wronged its cycle, a human must die as penance. And thus we've occasionally picked one off whenever the land called upon a sacrifice. But it got so dreadfully boring, so here we are, offering you to do what we loathe to do."
"You want me to... 'pick off' men?" Hans asked, the weight of his words a surprising heaviness upon his shoulders.
"Oh, don't tell me you don't want to do it. It doesn't have to be men. Women would get the job done as well, and I know you have no second thoughts about doing such a thing. Think about it, you'd finally be able to get revenge on people, and there would be little interference from the land and the pixies. No force of nature would try to stop you, wouldn't that be wonderful? Hmm, though human laws and punishments might get in the way. I guess we'll just have to finagle a bit before you get started.
"Well, I guess in the possibility that you develop a conscience at some point, it wouldn't do to have you running around without fulfilling your purpose. Not to mention that I lose my bet. Oh well, looks like I'll just add a bit of a fail-safe, regardless of you forming a conscience."
She waved both hands around her, sparkles trailing around her movements, and placed her hands at the center of Hans' chest where his heart would be. He felt a surge of pain radiating from where she touched him to the rest of his body, causing him to gasp and collapse in agony.
"Oh, don't be a big baby. It'll wear off in a bit," she sighed, shaking her head in disappointment. "Wow, if mortals are really that delicate, I wonder why the land sees you people as a threat. No matter. Now, you done with your sniveling?"
Grunting, Hans stood up, knees shaking as he straightened. The pang in his chest still burned, but the rest of his body seemed to have, more or less, returned to normal.
"I never said that I agreed to this," Hans said, gritting his teeth.
"Too bad, you're too much fun for us to just pass this responsibility to someone else. Now, continue to follow my directions, and all of this will be as painless as possible for you. And I mean that quite literally. That sting you feel? That's what the land and the pixies have felt since the sudden winter. And it will only get worse if you don't do what we ask of you, you understand? However, as an immortal being of magic, it doesn't really affect me, nor does it bother me. It's more an indication of the state of the land. For you, a lowly mortal, the land can have an... impressive influence on you."
"And what do you mean by that?" Hans, the reality of the situation finally sinking in, asked fearfully.
"Oh, dearie, I can't see the future. That'll be the fun of it all, would it not?"
"Wh-"
"Wow, you ask a lot of questions. I've heard about human curiosity, but goodness, isn't this laying it on a bit too thick? You don't have to have the answers to everything, you know."
"It would help to be a little more prepared if I'm going into something I have no experience with. Since you've stalked by life so much, I think you know what I mean by that."
"Au contraire, mon prince," the pixie said, smirking. "I've seen what you've done when new information arises, which is why we're so excited to jettison you off into the world with your new responsibility. Though I do admit that we want to be in your good graces so that you can somewhat be more willing to do what we ask, so you can ask three questions."
"Alright, then. Firstly, how do you expect me to... er... sacrifice people while I can't even escape from this place. I'm sure that you can't just knock everyone out."
"Kill them," the pixie said. She waved her hand at the scythe in the wagon. "Though, preferably with this thing in particular. I mean, I can enchant another weapon of your choosing, but wouldn't it be more fitting to harvest the sacrifices for the land?" She brought a hand up to her chin, pondering for a few moments. "On second thought, this is more fun. Yeah, use this thing." She waved her hands, causing the scythe to float in midair and presented it to Hans. He brought a hand out and hesitantly took the tool-turned-weapon in his hands. The ache in is chest eased a bit upon holding it, he noted.
"Good, it seems the land likes the idea too. Though, I'm going to have to add another enchantment. While the land asks for human sacrifice, human bloodshed makes it even more restless. While it would make things more interesting, I'll at least spare your mortal sanity that much."
"I can't just.. I can't kill everyone that gets in my way. If people catch on, they'll try to stop me."
"I said the forces of nature won't stop you, there's no need to worry."
"If I understand correctly from everything you've told me, I'm still bound to everything else a mortal man is subject to. Which means other mortals."
"Ooh, you're perceptive. I was hoping you wouldn't notice. Fine, since it seems that your family is too keen on how to manage you, we'll send you off to another kingdom. Corona, perhaps? They know a little bit about what you've done, but not enough to be overly paranoid, and they're still allied with the Southern Isles, so it wouldn't seem too far-fetched to influence your brothers to send you there."
"Which still doesn't address the issue I'm trying to bring up."
"If your concern is that they'll be privy to what you're trying to do and try to stop you, then just don't let anyone know, simple as that. Work with me, I shouldn't be the one doing all the work, mind you. You're ruining all the amusing bits of this whole plan."
"Alright, fine. Keep it a secret."
"I didn't say you have to."
"Then what would you rather have me do?" Hans threw his hands up in the air, the scythe still in the grip of one of them. Frustrated and realizing how dumb the action looked, he brought his hands back down and crossed his arms over the scythe, mindful to have its blade point away from his face.
"I'm more partial to the possibility of you just giving in and let the land have its way with you, but since you're strong-willed enough to try to resist, just do with it what you want. Really, we pixies just want to see how all of this unfolds."
"Alright, so I'm being shipped to Corona and I'm going to keep this a secret. Mostly, if you want to hear that. Secondly, how do I... appease the land? Do I just cut them down, easy as that? Or is there some kind of fairy ritual that I'm assuming I'm going to have to learn when you referred to these guards as 'practice'?"
"To start off, don't refer to me and my kind as 'fairies.' We don't hold the same standing as those frilly, good-for-nothing, nature-tenders. We are the guardians and gateway to the realm of magic. While they busy away with every facet of nature, we hold ourselves to a higher regard and command the mere forces they dote on."
"Sorry, I meant no offense," Hans said, shrugging his shoulders. He couldn't help but find it hilarious that something so tiny would have a tantrum like this, but he was mindful that she pretty much had him at her mercy, so he stifled the bubbling amusement and bit his tongue. "But please, enlighten me on how you'd like all this to be done."
Giving him a squinted stare, unamused, she continued, "You need to coax out the soul from the body and sever the ties that keep them together. The severing, I'm sure you can figure out. The coaxing, though; that's something better shown than verbally explained. Just watch, you can do the same."
She fluttered away from her position in front of Hans' gaze and hovered above the still, prone body of the guard who released Hans from his cell. She waved her hands around the man, purple pixie dust falling on him, and a soft white glow emanated around his form. Her hands glowed the same soft light, and the scythe's blade in Hans' possession mimicked the same light.
"Huh, I was wondering if I did the enchantment right. Like I said before, it's been a long while since we pixies ever did something like this. Now, a bag of this and you'll be set for reaping the harvest," the pixie said. With a flick of her wrist, she emptied out the bag of twine and filled it to the brim with sparkling dust. She gestured to the prone man. "A shame that he was a good man in the prime of his life. See how white he glows? Oh well, again, as I've mentioned before: quite an unsavory practice, but it must be done. Care to do the honors?"
"Do I just...?"
"Is that your third question?"
"No, no, I'm just a bit confused about what I'm supposed to do."
"I've seen you use that thing on the wheat. How else are you supposed to swing it?"
Hans blanched, realizing what he was about to do. The guard was innocent, he wasn't going to just kill him for no reason. Okay, yes, he had a reason – an unbelievable one at that – but this man did nothing against him. Well, then again, the guard was following his brothers' orders, which are inherently against him. But still, the man had nothing personal against him. Did he? And why the sudden change of heart? He felt no remorse from his actions against Queen Elsa and Princess Anna. Right?
No, he didn't, the voice calling for revenge at the back of his mind still burned at him. As well as the undeniable tug in his chest coaxed him to swing the blade and get it over with.
Noticing his hesitation, the pixie grunted in impatience.
"Are you seriously developing a conscience? Now? Of all the times to do so, it's now?"
"What if I am?"
"Is that your third question?"
"I guess it is."
"Fine, if this bothers you so much, you can hold off for however long you can hold your sanity. You can choose whomever you wish, but you must remember that it was the prime of summer where winter fell, so it must be the prime of a person's life where the land can truly be sated. For you however, to be sated, I guess just picking off a few sickly and elderly people would be enough for a time. Remember though, you're only mortal, and the power that persuades you is much greater than your own will."
"And if I refuse in the end?"
"No force of nature will stop you, and no force of nature will allow you to stop," she responded ominously. "Though the implication of those words applying to a mortal will be very amusing to watch. I must admit this whole plan of you collecting souls isn't entirely my idea. I know about your human tales about the Grim Reaper." She looked up at the sky, and gazed at her surroundings in the field. The once-glowing man had settled back into the shadows of the opaque darkness, his soul no longer stirring.
"My, it's getting late. I've extended my leave for way too long, and we all said that we won't have anymore influence on this matter, however tempting, than need be. I know you're a bit anxious about more appearances of anyone magical, as well as our influence. I promise you, as soon as you're guaranteed transit to Corona, we will no longer muddy our hands in your fate. Fate, as it is, is pretty upset that we've chosen to mess with you for some reason. I can kinda see why, with the mere spirit and gumption you've displayed in the past. The chaos will be absolutely delectable enough that we wouldn't want to do anything of this magnitude for quite a long time. As we all well know, Fate can be pretty harsh."
"...Has the Grim Reaper ever existed?" Hans asked, not sure where the curiosity came from, nor hoping for an answer.
The pixie chuckled, flying off into the night, "He does now."
Hans stood dumbfounded, grabbing at the bag of dust and gazing into it. His stare drifted to the scythe, its weight now heavy with meaning. He heard the muffled groans of the guards around him stirring from their magical sleep. Thinking quickly, he himself dropped to the ground and shut his eyes after tossing the bag and scythe onto the wagon, pretending that whatever happened to the guards happened to him as well.
In the distance, he heard the clambering of footsteps. Hans noted there was a good number of people approaching the field. Hans continued to pretend that he was still unconscious until one of the guards shook him.
"Get up," he said, tugging at his arm. "The king and princes approach."
Before Hans could properly process what the guard said, he was hoisted to his feet and prodded to kneel before his siblings. The guards around him did the same.
"What is the meaning of this?" the king, Hans' eldest brother, asked. "Who allowed such an excursion to take place?"
"I did, Your Majesty," the guard with the key ring responded. "I feared that Prince Hans was going to be a danger to himself if he didn't get some fresh air."
"And the seven of you laying around the field was a part of that plan?"
"N-no sir. We... aren't quite sure what happened. We didn't have enough time to figure it out before you came along, Your Majesty."
"Care to explain yourself, Hans?" His brother directed his attention right at him. Hans tried to form half-truths in his mind, hoping to add them to his act.
"What the guard said was true. I was getting too antsy in my cell, I'm afraid to admit that I was starting to... lose it," he said the last statement with as much embarrassment and shame that he could fake, which appeared to be enough in his brother's eyes. The king's features softened at Hans' "confession" and bent down to his level, meeting his gaze. The rest of his brothers scrambled to kneel, since it was considered to be disrespectful to be physically higher than the king.
Hans had to admit that he was a bit shocked when his brother enveloped him in a hug, and it was undeniably showing in his face when his brother released him, since the king coughed once to break the awkwardness.
"I can't bear to see you deteriorate like this. No matter what we try to do, it seems that we don't know how to handle this situation properly. It breaks my heart to know that we're driving you insane."
One of the princes, namely the ringmaster who caused two other siblings to pretend he was invisible years ago, scooted closer to where Hans knelt and embraced him as well.
"I'm so sorry to have led you down this path for so long. We all are. But we're trying our best to make it right. You've had your whole life ahead of you, and we took that all away. We hoped that sending you to Arendelle would help make amends, but it seemed that we were too late."
The same burning in his chest from when the pixie hexed him with her magic was renewed, pulling at him. Kill him, it beckoned from within. He shook his head, starting to tear up from the pain. His brothers misinterpreted it as anguish and flocked around him to join in the group hug, all formality forgotten. Hans grew more frantic as the urge burned within him much stronger as he resisted. Kill them all, it called again.
No, I won't. I can't, he argued with himself.
"No!" he screamed out loud, pushing with all his strength against his brothers, trying to get them away from him. Realizing that they weren't helping with his hysterics, they backed away, slowly. The guards readied their hands upon their weapons, not liking the sudden atmosphere surrounding the thirteenth heir. He dropped his face to the ground, tear-streaked, and clawed at his chest.
"No, please stop it," he pleaded softly. "I-I can't." He couldn't, because deep down, no matter how much he had against his brothers, he still loved them. And as much as he didn't want to say it, his brothers felt the same. The burning faded to a more tolerable level, but its presence was still prominent. He hugged his torso, glad for the reprieve.
"Please escort him to my quarters," the king ordered the guards. Hans heard one of them begin to protest, but his brother cut him off. "You may bring however many guards to watch over him as I sleep tonight. I just don't think it would be beneficial for him to be alone for now. Maybe having a brother around, that he doesn't quite despise as much as the others, would help." The guard answered affirmatively and placed a hand on Hans' shoulder to persuade him to rise.
Shaky from the near-miss that would likely haunt him forever if he followed through, Hans rose to his feet, still hugging himself in fear that we would lose control over his actions. As he drew further away from his place beside the wooden cart, he felt another tug, though this time around his gut, reminding him of the objects inside them.
"Can I make a request?" Hans dared to ask his brother, trying to hide the unease he felt and ignore the strangeness of what he was about to say. His brother turned to him and nodded silently. "Is it okay if I bring my tools with me?" He looked longingly at the cart. His brother's eyebrow raised in askance, hoping for an explanation. When Hans didn't give one, he waved an arm to one of the guards to gather the items.
"Your Majesty, uh..." the guard said, lifting the scythe in confusion.
"It's alright, it's not like a security blanket, you can hold onto it if you're so inclined. Besides, if I wanted to harm the king, I would've done so when he hugged me earlier," Hans said, a small smirk gracing his lips. "I just don't... feel right without knowing where they are." Hans knew that saying such wouldn't help prove that he wasn't insane, but with everything that happened with the pixie and the "snow incident," it seemed that claiming it was so was inevitable. When the guard peeked inside the bag, Hans' heart felt like it stopped. He almost returned to full-blown hysterics when the guard reached in.
"Don't!" Hans warned, reaching out a hand. The guard paused, surprised. Hans breathed out a sigh of relief and visibly relaxed, though he was sure that if everyone looked closely, he was sweating bullets out of nervousness. "That's glitter. I'm sure you don't want to get it all over your uniform. Very unprofessional." Hans wanted to smack himself in the forehead for coming up with that excuse, but silently rejoiced when the guard shrugged and accepted the explanation, sealing the bag with some twine. The tension in the air was palpable around him and his brothers, likely due to how far gone Hans appeared to be.
However, Hans knew very well that when plans went terribly awry, the only thing he could do was to adapt. So what if his brothers couldn't deny that he was off his rocker? The pixie promised that their plans surrounding Corona would be complete. Being very powerful beings, he was sure that part of the plan wouldn't falter, though he was beginning to dread what that entailed. Still, he couldn't wait for the day where he wouldn't see hide nor wing of another pixie again for the rest of his existence.
Author's Note: Now that we've come to the ending A.N... (And considering a lot of people tend to ignore these) I'll just be blunt.
I'm so sorry for the weirdness this plot is going to be. I actually didn't want this to exist in the first place, but it was eating me up inside, driving me to write. So... here we are. Ugh, I can't tell you how much I'm cringing about this story, and even more so with the intentions of posting it. Oh well, I guess what's done is done. I'll just keep writing and posting until the feeling passes, though not without a bit of TLC with editing to make it somewhat readable.
What possessed me to write a Reaper!Hans story is beyond my comprehension, but whatever. I'll laugh awkwardly to myself as I continue.
(And hey, if anyone is up for dealing with my insanity, I'm also up for having someone being a beta-reader. I mean, yeah, that's still a thing, right?)
And yes, glitter existed back then. I mean, that's what wikipedia says, so it must be true, right?
Also, really sorry for any weird errors. FF isn't really being cooperative with the doc manager, and if I even change one word in the chapter it doesn't like it too much. Though I will edit a bit throughout, hoping that it takes it and goes through. Oh well.