Author's Note: Ugh, you guys are awesome! I only just posted this and I've already got feedback on it! I was going to wait to update, but I figured why not? This chapter isn't as long as the last, but it does give a slightly different look at our rather obnoxious Hans. I hope all of you enjoy, and thank you so much for your support!
Elsa had seen very little of Hans, which she wasn't going to complain about. The passage had gone by uneventfully, besides one storm which the captain had called a small spring squall. Elsa had spent the entire time in her cabin under a foot of snow, fearing for the pitch black water outside of the hull. Beyond that, the week had passed smoothly and Hans had kept to himself.
He looked better, though. He was beginning to fill out once more, eating hearty meals with the crew each night. He had shaved and washed, and cut his hair, regaining his more refined appearance. Of course there was nothing he could do to hide the scar on his forehead, or newly hardened look in his eyes. On first glance, he looked the same in his old clothes. On the second glance, it was plain to see that Hans had become a man in the past year and a half.
She still hated what she had been forced into. Still hated him for what he had done. Still hated to think of how Arendelle would react to her bringing him back as her betrothed. But she had no other choice, as much as it pained her to admit. And looking across the deck to where he stood, leaned over the rail and looking out over the sea, she couldn't help but feel a twinge of pity for him. Anna had been rather tight-lipped about his past, which was odd for her. In any case, Elsa had never imagined that his family could be so awful. And something about their treatment and his bitterness told her that it had always been similar to that.
She forced herself to cross the deck, standing beside him and looking out at the crystal blue waters. Waters that could turn at any moment and take a life in one powerful wave. She shut her eyes for a moment, once again picturing the wave that must have downed the ship her parents were in. With a shudder, Elsa opened her eyes once more and looked at Hans.
"For what it's worth," She began. He gave a start and looked over, apparently not having realized that she had approached. His look was distant and cold, like he was expecting some sort of lashing and preparing to detach himself.
"I did not know that they were so cruel." The words pained her to say. But it didn't matter what Hans had done, no one deserved what she had seen him suffer. Hans stared at her for a long moment before looking away once more with a snort.
"That's the way family is." He said bitterly. "Look at what you did to Anna."
Elsa stiffened, feeling a streak of cold at his response. She tried to tamp down the anger that welled up with his comparison. He dared liken her to his brothers? "I did what I did to protect Anna. My intentions were rooted out of love, not hate." She snapped harshly.
He merely nodded in reply, not even bothering to look at her. "Of course, my queen. You are innocent as ever." He told her curtly, straightening up once more and giving her a slight bow. "Allow me to remove myself from your presence. I would hate to sully you." He turned briskly on his heel and marched away.
She watched him stride away with indignation growing inside of her. She had been attempting to be kind. He had taken the gesture and thrown it away, like she was some sort of monster for approaching him. Elsa turned and her hands gripped the rail angrily. Ice spread along it, but she paid no mind. It was the cold inside that bothered her. A cold that had started the moment she'd resigned to marrying someone she did not love, and only grew once she was forced to choose Hans.
The cold feeling of nothingness had been something she longed for as a child. Oh, how she had strove to reach a point of not feeling anything. But the harder she had tried, the more her emotions had run wild and erupted in an icy blast. Now those emotions were tucked away in a creeping cold inside, one that she no longer wanted. Yet shouldn't imagine how to go on feeling while willingly marrying a man like Hans.
Hans was angry. He had resolved to stay away from the Ice Queen as much as possible, assuming that she would do the same. The last thing he'd expected was for her to act sympathetic. Towards him. He stormed into his bunk and tore open his tightly buttoned collar so he could breathe. In private, at least, he didn't need to keep up a charade. He had thought he would do it perfectly well, he had kept up an act before. But pretending to be an honorable prince while everybody on board looked at him with hatred in their eyes was not so easy.
He didn't want any relation between him and Elsa. There needed to be a carefully constructed wall there to keep them apart. In another burst of anger, Hans kicked his bed. It was nailed to the floor and the action hurt only him. The pain, however, brought him back to his senses, as pain always did. Physical pain, that he could always handle. It directed his mind and forced him to focus. It was time to start building a wall, one of polite words and playing the part he was meant for. Strengthening his resolve, Hans straightened his shoulders and left his bunk to return to the deck.
She was still where he had left her. Ice clung to the railing that she gripped and her face was cold and angry. A picture of fierce determination against the backdrop of a setting sun and red sky. She was beyond beautiful, he had to admit. He had never denied that fact. Even in full display of her powers, driven by rage and fear, she had been dazzling. And more than beautiful, she was beyond dangerous. How he treated her affected how she treated him and she could make his life miserable. It was time to put on the act once more.
Hans approached her cautiously, standing behind her and clearing his throat to catch her attention. She continued to stare out at the sea for a long moment and he was beginning to wonder if she would ignore him entirely when she turned around. She looked him over with a sharp eye, a glance that told him she would believe nothing he said. It told him that she saw right through every act he could put on and she would not be fooled.
He smiled anyway, bowing respectfully to her. "I must apologize for my earlier actions, my Queen. I am peaked from such travel at sea and I allowed my temper to best me. Forgive me." Etiquette dictated that she had to forgive him. She didn't. Elsa turned around once more, hands falling back on the icy railing.
"So you are capable of an apology." She sounded bored almost, but he could hear the thin lines of anger in her voice. He smiled a little and stepped up beside her.
"That surprises you?" He asked. She turned on him so suddenly Hans thought it must have hurt her neck.
"Considering the fact that you haven't even attempted to apologize for what you did, yes. That does surprise me. And your apology is not accepted." She fixed a glare on him, which Hans found oddly amusing.
"There isn't much point in apologizing for that, Queen Elsa. It's in the past now." He told her, watching the anger on her face turn to rage. As if the look on her face wasn't enough to give away the way she was feeling, a small cloud formed above them and and icy pricks began hitting Hans' face. It was sleeting.
"Are you even human?" She asked in an incredulous tone.
Hans leaned forward, smile twisting into a sneer. "Barely." He replied. Obviously she was determined to see him as a monster. Fine, he was happy to oblige. If she wanted to only see the evil side of him, that would be all that he gave her. Something cold hit his chest and Hans went flying back. Landing on his back, he couldn't help the cry of pain that escaped. He'd been ignoring the stiffness, but the blow to his back reminded him of the multitude of cuts and bruises on his back. He felt several of the barely healed lashes split open and a fresh wave of pain rolled over him.
He blinked away stars and fuzzy vision as the pain lowered to a manageable level, slowly making out the form of Elsa, standing over him. There was a whisper of concern on her face as she peered down at him, and he knew his reaction was not one fitting of the blow she'd dealt him. Perfect, another reason for her to pity him. With a gasp, Hans finally sucked in a breath and realized he'd been unable to draw one since landing. He tried to rise, but another crashing wave of pain halted him at the movement.
"Apologies...my queen." He rasped, attempting to regain some measure of decorum and avoid any further pity from her. She regarded him coolly and waved a pair of guards over.
"Return Prince Hans to his room. It seems he has fallen ill and cannot keep his feet. Please assure that he doesn't leave his cabin again until we reach Arendelle. I would hate for my fiancee to be sick for our wedding." Her voice was devoid of any emotion, it was almost impressive. But he caught a flicker of emotion on her face as he was pulled to his feet and forcefully escorted to his bunk. She stood in her place, watching until the door shut.
Hans sunk into his bed, lying on his stomach and trying not to cry in pain. His shirt was turning wet, telling him that he was bleeding again. Thank the gods, he was finally out of the Southern Isles.
