Anna hurried down the hallways after sending Kristoff away to find Hilda and tell her to dispose of their dishes. She stopped before Elsa's door and knocked their special shave-and-a-haircut way. She smiled, having not done that in ages. A voice came from within.

"Who is it?"

"It's me, Anna. Is the door locked?"

Footsteps crossed the room, and with a click, the door opened a little. Elsa had taken her hair down from the braid and it now fell loose about her shoulders in uneven curls, but she had remained dressed. That was good.

"Can I come in?" Anna asked, pushing against the door ever so slightly.

Elsa wordlessly let the door give way, and Anna entered the chamber, shutting it behind her, and giving her sister a brief smile.

"Can we talk?"

Elsa walked slowly, woodenly, across the room and tugged at the cushion of the window seat, lowering herself to it and pulling her knees up to her chest as Anna sat down next to her and let out a sigh.

"What?" Elsa's gaze met hers.

"Oh? Nothing," Anna said, waving a hand. "Just... I wanted to tell you something."

Elsa nodded, but said nothing.

"So... you remember Hans?"

Elsa made no reply.

"Elsa?"

At last she met Anna's eyes. "Of course I remember him. What about him?"

"Wellllll..." Anna tilted her head to the side. "I decided to give him a let's-see-if-you-can-behave-yourself period, and I just thought –"

"Parole."

"What?"

"The word is parole." Elsa's wide eyes were staring at Anna, glassy, and still.

Anna nodded. "Okay. A parole period. And... you're okay with that?"

Elsa shrugged. "I suppose. You would probably know better than I would." Her head drooped forward.

Anna put a hand on her shoulder, feeling her flinch. "Elsa, you can trust your decisions too. There's nothing wrong with you."

"How can you say that?" Elsa's face was drawn and pale. "How can you say that after what you saw? You, of all people, would know that I'm – I'm..." she choked to a stop and focused on the embroidery of the cushion beneath them in order to ignore the tears that blurred her vision. "Emotions are the most difficult thing to control," she whispered. "Which is why it is easier to just be indifferent."

"Maybe," Anna said slowly. "But I know that you're not really indifferent. You're just pretending." Her voice was gentle. She was trying hard not to preach. She just got tired of saying the same thing over and over. She felt like she was talking to a wall. Or Sven, or something that couldn't really talk back.

At long last, Elsa simply changed back to the original subject.

"Prince Hans. How are you going to supervise him."

"Well," Anna took a deep breath. "I'm not. I mean, it won't be just me. You will too, and so will Kristoff."

"Kristoff?" Elsa seemed to not have even heard the part about her own role in supervising Hans. "What does Kristoff have to do with this?"

"He's helping," Anna repeated, gesturing with one hand. "Like usual."

"Usual?" Elsa's eyes sharpened. "I wasn't aware that he was around on a regular basis."

"You made him official ice master. He's supposed to–"

"Supply ice to the citadel. Not –" Elsa stood and began to pace, "hang around here."

"Excuse me, he is a very important friend. I thought you knew this –"

"I didn't know you favored him with your friendship."

"Well, yeah." Anna regarded her sister, dumbfounded. "He kind of saved my life a whole bunch of times..."

"He's a peasant," Elsa said simply.

Anna couldn't believe her ears. "Okay, maybe you're not thinking straight after all. Kristoff?" Anna gestured to indicate shaggy hair, strong stature and wide grin. "I'm not understanding how –"

"Don't spend so much time with him, Anna." Elsa's voice was hard. "You are Arendelle's only hope now, and you'll have to marry well."

"Wait, I'm not getting married to him! Though I might someday," she added off-handedly. "Still, you can't –"

"That's what I'm talking about," Elsa said, facing her sister. "Don't see him any more."

"But you said –"

"Not at all, Anna, do you understand?"

Silence filled the room. At last, Anna stood.

"Do you want your dinner brought?" she asked quietly.

Elsa shook her head. "I'm not hungry."

And Anna left without another word.

Meanwhile in the opposite wing of the castle, Hilda rapped on the door to Hans's apartments, and then entered, seeing him seated with his back to her, staring into the fire. She stacked the metal trays and dishes wordlessly, and was preparing to leave when his voice stopped her.

"What is your name?"

She was astonished, but set down the trays and approached, dropping a lopsided curtsy.

"Hilda, your highness."

"I am here on a period of parole. I suppose I am permitted to do as I please?"

"I – I don't know," the maid stammered. "But I will ask the prin –"

"Alright, you may go." He waved a hand. "Go!" he exclaimed, seeing Hilda still standing rooted to the spot, gawking like a chicken. "And don't come in unless I send for you."

Nodding, the maid gathered up the trays and scurried from the room. Hans let out a sigh. A knock roused him from his thoughts.

"I said, don't come unless I send for you!" he shouted, launching up from his chair and stalking across the room. He yanked open the door and beheld Anna, her arms crossed.

"Someone else's grumpy too," she remarked, breezing past him and into the room.

Hans crossed his arms to mimic her. "Well?"

Anna's eyes were wide. "Well, what? Am I allowed to be in here?"

"Of course. But what do you want?"

"I told Elsa about your being here. She seems fine with it."

"Really?" Hans's eyebrows lifted. "That's surprising." He shifted his weight from one foot to the other and began tentatively, "Princess –"

"Anna," she supplied. "But only when we're alone."

"Very well. Anna." She nodded, and he took a deep breath, seeming to find it difficult to choose his words. "When I – since I... while I am..." He broke off, shaking his head, and finally blurted out, "How much freedom am I allowed? Can I pretty much do as I please?"

"'Please' is not a very good way to put it. But what you need to, yeah." Anna tossed her hands up in the air. "I mean, how can you do what we need you to if we don't give you a little freedom?"

She was testing him. Hans bit off his words carefully.

"I am honored by the trust you place in me. I no longer desire any harm to come to Elsa. But I may need to employ... firmness. Of opinion. In order to convince her."

Anna hesitated. "Alright. But if she gets mad at you," she began to back away, grinning, "-then don't blame me. You asked for it."

The following day, Hans dressed carefully in his formal uniform and followed Anna's instructions to wait after breakfast in one of the reception rooms. He lifted a hand to trace the leaded window pane before him and was disgusted to find it shaking. What was the matter with him?

Meanwhile, Anna had the task of convincing Elsa to do her part. It was not going to be easy.

"Please – no, I don't want to be here – I don't want to be here..." Elsa repeated in a tiny voice as they made their way slowly down the passageway. "Please, no – no..."

"It's going to be fine," Anna soothed, entwining her arm through her sister's. "It's going to be okay. It's only to the end of the hall. Your room's not a good place – "

"It will be so light, it will be so open," Elsa whimpered. "I don't want to go, I don't want to go."

Her eyes were huge in her pale face, and her steps faltered as Anna continued to pull her along.

"Elsa, it's okay. Just breath. Just relax."

Elsa obediently took long deep breaths, but they began to come faster and faster, hitching in her chest until at last she gasped, "I need to sit down," and pulled away, collapsing on a nearby settee. Her head drooped forward, and as she clenched her fingers in her hair, shaking sobs drifted up to where Anna stood.

"Elsa, it's going to be fine, it's just a different room."
"I haven't been in there in so many years," she gasped. "And there is so much commotion out here, and I can't breathe -" she choked off.

Anna looked around her at the few servants moving about, performing their duties in the distance.

"This is important," she began.

"Just go," Elsa waved her hand. "Just go on without me, I'll be fine, I'll just stay here."

"I can't – it's you he has to see. You're the queen –"

"I don't want to go, I don't want to go, I don't want to go..." Elsa repeated in a whisper, slowly rocking back and forth, her whole frame trembling.

"Elsa –"

"I can't go!" she wailed. "I can't breathe, I can't move in this dress..."

"Come on," Anna gently pulled her to her feet, tears stinging her eyes.

"I can't move – I can't move..." Elsa gasped as she was propelled along the corridor.

"Yes, you can, look we're moving for you," a voice said, as a figure came alongside them and took Elsa's other arm. It was Kristoff. Elsa barely looked up into his face as all the tension seemed to drain from her. She sagged between them.

"I thought I told you not to see him," she managed weakly.

"I'm not looking," said Anna, turning her face away, and trying to sound glib. But her heart ached. They were not a moment too soon to be doing this. In fact, they may just be a few moments too late. These episodes of irrationality were becoming more and more frequent.

The double doors gave way to a pleasant, airy apartment situated with a semi-circle of chairs, a few scattered side tables, a gigantic fireplace crackling invitingly, and an area rug woven with a map of the kingdom. In a far gabled window stood an elegant figure clad in white, who turned as the party entered the room.

Hans took in the sight of Anna and Kristoff, flanking a small pale-haired figure in the middle, clad in a stiff formal dress, but seeming to shrink within the finery.

"I need to sit down," she murmured, pulling away and barely making it to a nearby seat before collapsing into it, her hair falling around her face and obscuring it from view.

"Would you like a glass of water, your majesty?" Anna asked quietly, and Elsa nodded. As the princess prepared the cool drought, Kristoff silently slipped from the room, and Hans took a few gingerly steps toward the area where Elsa sat.

"Hello, Queen Elsa," he said in a gentle voice, shifting the scabbard of his sword where it lay against his thigh as he took a seat. "It has been a while."

"You are not welcome here," Elsa said in a feeble voice, lifting her eyes, which had a startling appearance in the bright light of the windows. Her pupils where shrunken to tiny dots, making the pale icy color all the more apparent, and Hans swallowed. She was beautiful. He had never thought about her this way before at all. He cleared his throat.

"I realize that, and I apologize, deeply and truly, for my behavior. It was atrocious."

"Yes, it was," Elsa agreed in an almost voiceless tone.

Anna leaned over the back of her chair for a moment to deposit the glass of water upon the table near at hand. Elsa reached for it and took a long quiet drink, before replacing it on the polished surface.

"Thank you," she murmured.

"I think I'll leave you two now," Anna began, but Elsa's gaze shot up to meet her sisters, terror filling her features.

"No," she whispered simply.

"I don't have any business being here," she retorted. "And you'd probably talk better without my interruptions." She met Hans' eyes in a significant look. "I trust that everything will be well?"

Hans nodded, his green eyes strange and unreadable. "I trust that it will."

And Anna left the room.

Elsa sat as still as a statue, unmoving, and staring at her lap for a long moment after the door closed. Hans shifted in his seat and the springs of the settee squeaked painfully. He ran a hand over his mouth.

"I... I can see that my presence disturbs you."

Elsa made no reply. Hans was about to continue, when she murmured, "It is not your presence, so much."

"What, then?" He looked surprised. "My appearance? My conversation?"

He half hoped she would laugh, but though she looked up, her eyes were blank. "I don't do well around... people... anymore," she said.

Hans simply nodded. "I understand."

"Do you." Her face was vacant.

Hans took a deep breath.

"Actually, I don't. I have no idea what's in your head. In general, I am very good at –" He stopped short seeing Elsa staring at him. He began again. "Modestly speaking, I have been told that I am good at reading people. But you –"

"I am not like most people," she said blandly. "I am insane."

"You are not insane." Hans' face was stern. "I can swear to that."

"Can you?" Elsa cocked her head, her lips parted, pale and bloodless. "How?"

"I – I am working on it. But... it's just something you're telling yourself. So stop."

Elsa continued to stare at him. Heat crept into Hans' face.

"Forgive, me, your majesty." He stood. "Perhaps this is not a good idea after all."

"What do you want?" Elsa's question rang throughout the large chamber and echoed back upon the portrait-covered walls. The crackling of the fire was the only sound in the room for a long moment.

"Nothing," he answered at last, with as honest a look as he could muster. "Truly, nothing."

"Then please." Elsa lowered her head, her shoulders laced with tension once again. "Leave me alone."

"You are not insane," Hans found himself saying. "Princess Anna tells you this, and I'm telling you as well."

"Just because you are telling me does not make it true," she whispered.

"Listen to me. Arundelle needs a strong leader." He was groping for words, strong commands. "Your kingdom will fall apart if you don't pull yourself together and rule it."

"I can't." Elsa's voice was firm. "I don't know what I am doing from one minute to the next, I can't control myself, my feelings, my thoughts, I can't – " Her face contorted as she raised her arm to gesture and the stiff fabric of her dress prevented the motion from being fluid, "- function – I can't move..." Tears filled her eyes.

Hans looked down at her, his heart pounding, but resolved to drive home the message he was required to. "You are not insane."

"Stop saying that!" Elsa exploded, standing, her gaze fiery. "You've been talking with Anna. You've been – conspiring together. And I – I just..." She scrambled up and started to pace, tripping on her heavy skirt and yanking it away from her legs. Elsa fled out into the open like a startled animal, still rambling in a high-pitched voice, "You can say it all you want, you can try to force me to behave like a normal person, you can dress me up and make me say all these things that normal people say, and I can fool them! I fooled them for so long! You can threaten, you can appeal, you can do everything in your power, but you don't know that I am doing everything in mine! And it's still not enough. It's still – " Her face was tinged pink as she took in quick breaths, her breast rising and falling above the constricting gown. In anger she raised her arm and yanked the fabric forward so it tore across the back of her shoulder, freeing her movements. She tore her hair down "Why won't you all just -" She stopped short as a cool flurry of air ghosted across the exposed skin. Hesitantly, she lifted her hand and ran a finger across the gash, shuddering.

Hans slowly approached her. "Your majesty -"

Elsa backed up against the wall, pressing against the heavy tapestry and sending ripples up to the very top where it hung from an enormous mahogany rod.

"I would like a pair of gloves," she whispered.

Hans furrowed his brow, but obligingly drew off his own, approaching cautiously and holding them out to her.

As Elsa took them, her fingers brushed over his, and she turned her back, scrubbing the hand that had touched his against her skirt as if his touch had contaminated her. But she slipped on his gloves nevertheless, the broad fingers swallowing up hers and the cuffs sagging around her small wrists. Hans was intrigued.

"Majesty, if I may," he began in a quiet voice. "Why did my brief touch offend you so much, if you are perfectly alright with wearing my gloves?"

"They are clean," Elsa replied, as if that explained everything.

"And my hands are not?"

"Your hands are skin."

Hans blinked. "Yes, they are covered in skin."

"I can't stand skin touching skin," she whispered. "Not even my own. I hate summer, when clothing is more open, when there is a possibility of my touching myself..."

Hans was beginning to think his was a hopeless case. Elsa was clearly not stable. And he was supposed to convince her that she was. By all the southern isles...

"There is nothing wrong with skin," he offered, sounding pathetically lame. "Everyone has it."

Her back was still to him, her voice nearly buried in the tapestry, but carrying over her shoulder just enough to reach his ears. "I hate the way it feels. I feel that I have to take a bath after anything touches me. Otherwise it's too distracting. I think about it. Wherever I was touched, and then... I can't think about anything else. Water washes all of it away."

"Perhaps – you're just overly sensitive. To touch. Something that could be remedied by... desensitization?" He took a step forward, and when she didn't move, reached out a bare finger and touched her exposed shoulder. She stiffened.

"That wasn't so bad... was it?"

Elsa turned, crossing her arm over her chest to clutch the back of her shoulder where his skin had touched hers. "I will always remember it."

There was something... appealing about that. Hans mentally kicked himself. What are you thinking? There is nothing good about these problems that she has. She's a lunatic. So, physical touch revolts her. Why are you entertaining thoughts of – He stopped short, appealed at himself. He pointed a finger.

"You are not insane," he said, using the tone with which he commanded his troops. And then he turned and exited the room.

Hans lay upon his bed that night, sleep edging away from him as carefully as the queen had. Anna had come to his chambers several hours after his interview with Elsa ended, and asked him how it had gone.

"Good," he replied evasively. "Not splendid, but good."

"Well, what happened?" Anna pressed, twisting a piece of her hair eagerly.

"Nothing, really. We just talked. I … I'm considering rethinking my methods."

"Really?" Anna's eyebrows shot upwards. "I have no idea what you mean, but this is your thing now, not mine. I mean –" she gestured. "She's my sister, and I'm going to keep taking care of her. But it's you that has to try to reintegrate her with the idea that she can function. If she tries."

"I'm not sure she can," Hans had said tentatively, scratching his cheek.

Anna stared. "Seriously? You too? I mean, yes, I understand that now she can't, but once you convince her head that there is nothing wrong, her actions will follow."

"The trouble is, her head is where the problem resides. It won't work."

"What are you saying, we should just give up?" Anna threw her hands in the air. "Accept that she's a lunatic and lock her up, and get Arundelle a new queen?"

"No – not at all. I just mean... You said you'd give me some freedom."

"Uh-huh." Anna's eyes were narrowed.

"You said I'm supposed to convince her that she's not insane – you know, do the talking – while you keep taking care of her – making her eat, sleep, not destroy things. Am I right."

"Where are you going with this?"

Hans took a deep breath. "It's not going to work. I –" He swallowed. "She needs a new start."

"I know. Anna nodded. "That's why a new face is going to do her good."

"The face of the person that tried to kill her?"

Anna bit her lip. "Okay. So you want to call it off?"

Hans shook his head. "No. I want it all."

"What do you mean?"

"All of it. The care, the talking, the taking care of, the everything. She's associating you with her long-term caretaker. All of which seems to confirm the fact that she's hopelessly crazy. I'm a foreign dignitary –" Anna scowled.

"-Okay, a foreign prisoner, but at least I'm a regular person. What I mean is – not in the family. Not a normal person who it would seem likely would take care of..." He shook his head, his tongue in knots. "Just let me do it all. I think I can help her."

"You said you wanted to use firmness." Anna wasn't convinced.

Hans looked away for a moment. "I'm not sure that's what she needs."

There was a long period of silence before Anna nodded. "Alright," she said. "You can do it."

Hans forced himself to take long even breaths as he stared up at the canopy above him, the pillow beneath his head making the slightest of whispers as he stirred and tried to force his eyes to close once more. Elsa still had his gloves.