To my Guest reviewers, unfortunately I cannot respond to you via PM. But I want to thank each of you for reading and giving valuable feedback! Although Hans won't be finding redemption in this story, the general themes of love, repentance, forgiveness, etc. will still be quite prevalent.
Later on Hans will have several chances to turn around and amend his ways, but unfortunately, he won't do it.
July 30, 2016. In light of my newfound faith and moral sensitivity in this past year, edits have been made to this chapter, to eliminate the profanity and "Hans humor" that was so pervasive in my prior writings.
Chapter 2:
"I don't understand," Anna protested, as she sneezed and sniffled for the umpteenth time. "The only thing I'm allergic to is pollen. But there's no pollen in the air at this time of the year."
Elsa patted her comfortably on the back, biting back a grin. "Relax, sis. I'm sure it's nothing." Over the past few days, Elsa had taken the liberty of surreptitiously sprinkling trace amounts of pollen around the castle. She made sure to keep the dosage miniscule, so that Anna would only experience mild discomfort at best. "How much longer, Dr. Helmholtz?"
The physician smiled back. "Just another minute. Let me re-examine these samples for false positives."
Several tense seconds ticked by, before Dr. Helmholtz turned to address the royal sisters. "Princess Anna, are you absolutely sure you haven't come in contact with pollen in the past twenty-four hours?" Anna shook her head.
Oh yes you have, Elsa thought smugly.
The doctor rubbed his temple and emitted a low, somber sigh. "Your Highness, it appears that you are developing an allergic reaction to chocolate."
"Impossible!" Anna shouted. "I've eaten chocolate my whole life, and nothing has ever happened!"
"Well, it's called chocolate for a reason." Dr. Helmholtz choked back a snort of laughter and forced himself to assume a calm, professional demeanor. "It's rare, but people do develop allergies during adolescence or early adulthood. This usually happens when the patient withdraws from a certain food or drink over a long period of time, and they lose the ability to digest it. But your case is the opposite. It appears you have been exposed to such a large excess of chocolate over the years, your body has a massive surplus of chocolate-digesting enzymes."
"I'm afraid I'll have to prescribe you a medicine to suppress the allergy. You've eaten so much chocolate that the chocolate is now eating you. Except you probably don't taste very good."
"Yeah, I bet you taste like a stinker," Elsa giggled. "Because you are one!"
"Shut it!" Anna glared at her sister. "If I have to take the medicine, then so does Elsa! She eats just as much chocolate, so it's only fair!"
"But Anna, I'm not the one with a chocolate allergy. Fair and equal are not the same thing," Elsa explained calmly. She gave Anna's hand a gentle squeeze. "Cheer up, sis. Things aren't really that bad. As long as you take the medicine, you can still eat all the chocolate you want. I'm sure it won't be that disgusting." She shot Dr. Helmholtz a wink that Anna couldn't see.
The doctor handed Anna a small glass bottle full of viscous greenish-brown sludge. "Take one spoonful before every meal. The symptoms should go into complete remission in three days."
Anna wanted to vomit at the sight of the vile concoction. If she looked closely, she could see tiny particles suspended in the liquid. A thin layer of murky supernatant hovered above the feces-like layer of solid slime. Her stomach twisted and churned at the prospect of swallowing this colloidal monstrosity.
But she was also facing the prospect of a chocolate-free diet, and there was nothing she wouldn't endure to escape that fate. The sisters thanked Dr. Helmholtz and left the infirmary hand in hand.
Perfect, Elsa cheered silently. The stinker won't even know what hit her. Now all that's left is to get rid of the pollen. I'm sorry Anna, but I believe I have just won the prank war.
Henrik lazed back in his heavy oaken chair, with a condescending smirk plastered across his face. "You still interested in becoming King of Arendelle? Still want revenge on the witch and her stupid brat of a sister?"
Hans ground his teeth in frustration. "If only I could!" He slammed his foot into the table leg, but instantly uttered a rapid string of expletives as pain tore through his body.
"That's where you're wrong, little brother. Take a look at this." Henrik brought out a thick, heavy book and thumbed through the frayed sheets of yellow parchment. "According to Article Twelve, Section Twenty-eight of European Family Law, your engagement to Princess Anna of Arendelle is in fact legally binding. Your professions of love and intent on marriage were declared in the presence of more than a dozen reputable witnesses. Unless this engagement is fulfilled, we have the standing to declare war. We would be the aggrieved party, and Arendelle would be in the wrong. So you see, my dear brother, it turns out that some good has been wrought by your incompetence two years ago. Your engagement to Princess Anna gives us a foot in the door."
Hans raised his eyebrows. "How does marrying Anna make me King of Arendelle? Unless I find some way to kill off Elsa? Then what happens to your plan to enslave the witch? I really don't see your logic here."
Henrik emitted a low, impatient growl. "Hans! Are you really this dense? Read the fine print!" The King of the Southern Isles plowed through several pages and vigorously jabbed a finger at the corresponding line of text. "If a marriage is promised, a marriage there must be. Any bride from the same bloodline would suffice. Your past indiscretions don't alter the fact that this agreement must be fulfilled. That is our loophole! The only way the witch can save her sister's happy marriage is by offering herself to you in replacement, and I can guarantee that this will be her course of action. Take that to the bank."
Henrik took a swig of champagne. "Even to this day, Elsa still believes it's her fault that they both grew up in isolation. She would do anything to make Anna happy—including marry you in her place. And this is why a woman has no business ruling a kingdom. They value compassion over practicality. The witch may be the cleverest person in all of Europe, but she will always put her emotions first. You marry her, you become King of Arendelle."
"And I plan to have a LOT of fun with that!" Hans gleefully interrupted.
"Yes, that's certainly one of the perks of the job." Henrik chuckled in agreement. Then he became somber again. "But Hans, I know you well enough to suspect that you will get sidetracked. You still think and act like a teenager. Something tells me that you care more about having fun with your new role as King, than you do about our political aspirations. Convince me that you can stop perseverating on your base urges, and worry about the more important issues."
Hans shook his head vigorously. "No, no! I promise that this isn't the case at all. I will not let you down."
"Yes, you'd better not let me down… again." Henrik's low, menacing voice chilled Hans to the core. "Pay attention, now. Marrying the witch would put you in the unique position of having legal authority over her. Let that sink in. You will have authority over the witch. A wife must obey her husband in all matters pertaining to their private man with the slightest sliver of ambition in his body would die to have that sort of leverage."
Hans paused to absorb this information. "So my job is to marry the witch, then break her spirit and beat her into complete and utter submission."
"Precisely. You will torment her day and night, making her life hell, obliterating her every last vestige of humanity. Until she becomes a soulless monster we can enslave as a weapon of war. Then the real fun begins."
"Oh! When do we start?" Excitement danced through Hans' eyes.
Henrik held up a hand. "Slow down. There is one more thing that you must be mindful of. Do not upset the witch until your marriage vows have been exchanged. Right now, your reputation in Arendelle is tenuous at best. Until the witch is yours, you must take care not to arouse any suspicion."
The King of the Southern Isles threw his head back and chugged some champagne. "Our dear Frosty would rather die than dissolve her sister's marriage and force her to marry you! Anna would resent her for life, and that is her worst nightmare! Believe me, I've researched this topic for over a thousand hours, and there is literally no other way the witch can save her sister's marriage and prevent war—besides offer herself as replacement."
Hans pondered an alternate scenario. "And if she refuses and kicks us out? What if neither of them will marry me? Then what? We go to war with Arendelle? That's suicide!"
Henrik rolled his eyes "Nah, the witch is too much of a pansy to use her powers for combat. Especially since she would be legally in the wrong." His eyes sparkled wickedly as he retrieved an ancient scroll covered with arcane symbols and Runic script. "Besides, she doesn't know about THIS!"
Hans leaned in for a better look. The sheet of parchment seemed to be a map. A winding trail meandered its way through the woods, leading to a very strange and abstract-looking image that vaguely a group of mythical humanoid creatures performing an occult ritual.
Beneath the sketches was what appeared to be a riddle. Hans was able to decipher individual words, but could not make the least bit of sense out of the archaic vocabulary, pedantic babblings, and gut-wrenchingly convoluted run-on sentences.
The words Formula XIV were scrawled at the bottom of the page in Henrik's handwriting. That was the only thing that remotely made sense.
"What the hell is Formula XIV?"
Henrik gave a devilish laugh that sent shivers up Hans' spine. "Our secret weapon and key to victory. In case the witch gets any ideas about fighting back."
A few days later…
Elsa clenched her teeth to bite back an explosion of laughter, as Anna swallowed yet another spoonful of the "medicine." Her freckled features twisted and contorted in a most agonized fashion as she forced the disgusting brown sludge down her throat. "You're doing great, sis." Elsa praised her encouragingly. "Just three more dosages, and you're finished!"
Dr. Helmholtz stood off on the side, watching the redhead with a pained expression, but inwardly smiling. He had instructed Anna to take her "prescription" under the guise of preventing a nascent chocolate allergy. Indeed, it was not unheard of for people to develop allergies in their adolescence or early adulthood. When he somberly informed Princess Anna that she was at risk of developing an allergic reaction to chocolate, she agreed to take the medicine in a heartbeat.
Anna gagged and rinsed her mouth vigorously. The bottle was almost empty by now. Elsa patted her on the back. "Almost there. Now you can have all the chocolates you want for the rest of your life." Except for when I take your desserts for the next month!
"Yuck!" Anna drained an entire glass of water in a single gulp. "This stuff smells even worse than Kristoff! And that stinker bathes about once a month!"
Elsa smiled at the mention of her dear brother-in-law. She loved his easygoing personality and dry sense of humor. But his personal hygiene was certainly not one of his finer attributes. Kristoff despised baths, and would often pout sophomorically and whine that it "was an affront to his masculinity." Only after some lengthy negotiations did Elsa manage to persuade him that as a Prince, certain levels of propriety must be adhered to. Kristoff finally agreed to bathe twice per week.
"If Anna is feisty-pants, then you're bossy-pants," Kristoff had teased.
"Being bossy is my job!" Elsa had teased back. Their camaraderie was sufficiently robust to withstand this sort of banter. The three young royals had all overcome childhoods of loneliness and isolation, to become the closest family in the entire kingdom. They had established enough comfort and mutual understanding, that insults could be traded in jest.
As Anna emitted another loud, retching sound, Elsa could hold it in no longer. Even thirteen years of conceal, don't feel couldn't do a thing to restrain her. She coughed and gagged as shrieks of mirth exploded from her lungs with volcanic ferocity.
Anna quirked an eyebrow in confusion. "What? How is Kristoff not bathing funny? Seriously, what are you laughing at?"
Elsa sank to the floor as she continued to tremble violently with laughter, on the verge of hyperventilation. Tears rolled down her cheeks. Elsa turned her flushed, sweaty face to address Dr. Helmholtz. "Tell her!" was all she could manage before a fit of high-pitches squeals overtook her senses.
The young physician shifted contritely. Elsa's laughter was the most adorable thing he had ever heard and seen. The stately, regal façade had been stripped away to reveal who she truly was beneath her title: A fun-loving young woman with a heart as pure and innocent as freshly fallen snow. As her button-nose flushed pink and her eyes sparkled with every childish giggle, Dr. Helmholtz couldn't stop smiling too. "Your Highness, I'm afraid you've been double-crossed. This medicine wasn't medicine at all."
"Wait, what?" Anna instantly snapped to attention.
Dr. Helmholtz ran a hand through his sandy blonde hair. "All that stuff about the chocolate allergy was completely made up. Your dear sister merely took the liberty of sprinkling pollen around the castle. That medicine was just some asparagus and celery and raisin puree, amongst other things. Disgusting, but not toxic. Ask her for the complete list of ingredients." His eyes flitted back and forth between Elsa and Anna. "I'm very sorry about lying to you, but I could not disobey an order from my Queen."
Elsa was finally beginning to calm down. "And you bought it hook, line, and sinker!"
The doctor cracked a grin. "Or should you say hook, line, and stinker?"
Anna's face flushed redder than her hair, and both hands instinctively balled into fists, as the dreadful realization dawned upon her. "Why, you little…"
"So, do I win?" Elsa smirked.
Anna stamped her feet in mock outrage, as she flung the rest of the "medicine" into Elsa's face. "This isn't over! Just you wait, Elsa Frostberg! I will be victorious!" The redhead stalked away to begin plotting her next machination.
Elsa watched silently as she rounded a corner and vanished from sight. "That'll be a hard one to top."
Dr. Helmholtz, who had been silent for the past few minutes, finally spoke up. "I had no idea you were so mischievous," he admitted.
Elsa grinned sheepishly. "My sister can be very persuasive. We used to have fun like this all the time, until…"
Those words tumbled out with a fluidity and ease that was strangely involuntary. Elsa instantly clammed up. She had said too much. She had certainly not intended to inundate a lighthearted setting with such emotionally charged statements.
"I'm sorry, forget what I just said."
But her audience was surprisingly forgiving of her loose lips. "Your Majesty, there is no need to apologize. Ranting may not be politically correct, but it's one of the most liberating things you can do."
A few moments ago, Elsa had become withdrawn and seemed close to tears. But at these words, she loosened up again. "Thank you for being so understanding."
"You're the Queen, not God. You wouldn't be human if you never got emotional."
She gave him a shy, grateful little smile. "I guess. But please, just Elsa is fine."
"All right then, Elsa." Dr. Helmholtz reached into his pocket to withdraw a single truffle. Dark chocolate with strawberry filling. One of Elsa's favorites. Her eyes sparkled like diamonds at the sight. As he laid the bite-sized confection in her hand, the pads of his thumb inadvertently brushed over her knuckles. Beneath the gentle touch, a shuddering shockwave jolted his entire body. Her skin was soft and delicate, and as pure as freshly fallen snow.
As his large, muscular hands traced over the soft contours of every joint and curve, he found his mind—and eyes—wandering. The incident sunlight cast a shadowy gradient across her face, highlighting her features and accentuating her ethereal beauty. Her platinum blonde hair was fixed in a loose French braid, with a few loose tendrils framing her face like a silky curtain. Each strand of hair was like an ingot of gold spun into the finest thread.
Before long, he found himself drowning in her eyes. His breath hitched in his throat. Those bright blue orbs that were of the deepest and purest cerulean hue. The Snow Queen possessed the uncanny ability to captivate an audience and command respect with a single look. But her eyes were also a wellspring of compassion and tenderness, straight from the heart. There was strength and authority in her demeanor, but she was gentle as a lamb.
Elsa could only be an angel. No human could come close to her transcendent beauty. She was an aesthetic masterpiece straight from heaven, which no work of art or product of nature could dare rival. Whenever she smiled, her face would light up in a very girlish manner, which further enhanced that innocent, angelic vibe.
But her true beauty came from within. The vast majority of nobles—and he had encountered a lot of them—were pompous, arrogant, and had no consideration for others. Those idiots had done nothing to merit their stations in life. They were simply lucky enough to be born into the right families at the right time. Yet they thought they were God's gift to Man. Their snooty words, sanctimonious attitudes, and outlandish senses of entitlement grated on his nerves like nails on a chalkboard.
The Snow Queen was truly an oddity amongst European royalty. A very rare but very good exception. Always polite and never duplicitous or condescending. Never abusing her power or imposing her will on others. She loved her subjects as if they were her own children, and was selflessly devoted to bettering all of their lives. The castle staff were not servants, but friends. Children approached her with absolutely no reservations as they asked to play with her icy magic.
Elsa's sense of humor—which he had not discovered until quite recently—was also wickedly adorable.
So immersed was he in his musings, Dr. Helmholtz was barely cognizant that he had been touching her hand for the past ten seconds, from the moment they first made inadvertent contact. His index and middle fingers were curled around her pinky. He had not noticed Elsa tugging gently but steadily, attempting to pry loose. "Excuse me Dr. Helmholtz, but it seems…" she gave her finger a sharp little wiggle to catch his attention.
His face flushed crimson with mortification, then whitened under shock, as he realized what he was doing. The doctor wrenched his hand back vigorously. He cleared his throat. "I'm sorry, Your Maj—Elsa. I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable."
But Elsa's bright blue eyes shone with understanding instead of anger. "Don't worry. It's really not a big deal."
His heart palpitated with all the speed and ferocity of a high-powered rifle, and his mouth was dry. But he managed to keep his cool and suppress the stammer from his voice. "I'm sorry. That was terribly impolite and unprofessional of me. Please forgive me if I unintentionally do anything strange. I've been feeling a little fatigued and sleep-deprived recently." This was not entirely untrue.
Elsa patted him comfortingly on the arm. "You do seem a little under the weather. Why don't you go take a nap? You work so hard and deserve a break."
Dr. Helmholtz silently thanked her a million times over for not exposing his pitiful excuse, and allowing him to keep his pride. Safe behind his locked door, the young doctor kicked savagely at a filing cabinet. His knees buckled and he sank to the floor.
Here he was, safe in his little sanctuary, where he was most in his element, surrounded by his own success. Trophies and laurels were framed upon every wall. But right now, they gave him no comfort. Painful childhood memories, which he had worked for so long and hard to repress, surfaced once again. You fool! You deserved every bit of crap you've ever received in your life, and what happened today proves it! What makes you think you run from your past? Are you really so naïve, you think a couple of nice trophies and certificates changes who you really are? You are worthless piece of excrement, and that's all you will ever be!
Indeed, all the accolades in the world couldn't negate his shameful past. Beneath that shiny veneer of success, he was still his pathetic old self. No amount of image-crafting could hide the fact that after all these years, he was still that oblivious oaf and incompetent jackmule.
Chapter 3 will be here soon. Stay tuned!
