The cold outside his rooms had been bracing on the walk over here, but for the handful of minutes where Hans had to stand still, facing the priest, waiting for the bride, it became rather unpleasant. It seemed to grow steadily colder as the moments passed. Arendelle's weather would grow on him, surely. The chapel was fairly empty: an ambassador and clergyman from the Southern Isles to see that everything was done properly and according to the agreement, some staff from the royal household, a few pews' worth of religious figures and some random other people that he couldn't account for. Hans held in a shiver. Normally this getup kept him warmer than he really cared to be, but today it seemed to offer only a feeble resistance to the elements.
His meditations were interrupted by a flurry of activity at the rear of the church, as the doors were pushed open and a young woman with coppery-brown hair bounced into the room, clutching a bouquet of flowers and wearing a largely green frock and one of the biggest smiles he had ever seen. Her excitement carried her a few steps into the church before she seemed to remember herself and she stepped to the side. She seemed rather sweet, but Hans felt somewhat relieved to find she wasn't the blushing bride. Far too young, and apparently lacking the calm presence of mind demanded of a sovereign.
Once the girl had stilled (still bouncing on her toes slightly and gaping around, especially at him), he turned his focus to the doorway. The bright light outside hurt his eyes slightly when compared to the subdued rays filtering through the stained-glass windows. A silhouette was coming through the opening, though, becoming clearer as it approached him.
For a stupid moment, Hans stared and thought she looked like and angel heralding some great tidings from on high. Backlit and softened by the gauzy veil affixed to her glorious head, she was truly a vision. Once properly in the church, though, he could see her properly, and she looked decidedly human, though still strikingly beautiful. She looked much like her portrait; very fair haired, pale skinned, with wide blue eyes and a very serious expression.
The girl, whom he now assumed to be Princess Anna, followed her older sister up the aisle, visibly trying to emulate the monarch's poise and grace as she elegantly advanced towards him. The younger woman, however, kept craning her neck to scrutinise the prince at the altar, though, rather spoiling the effect.
Hans became aware of the sweet music as it grew stronger, the closer they came to the waiting men. With no father to give her away, the bride was the highest authority in the land, and so carefully handed her flowers to her sister and came to stand beside him. Anna stood to the side, enthralled, as the priest began to speak, employing Latin and Arendellian at different times.
His young bride, dressed in white adorned in various blues, stared fixedly ahead, her face frozen in a mask of poised, idle interest. She was much shorter than he, coming up about halfway up his upper arm. Tiara not included. She didn't seem to care a jot about his presence, not so much as glancing at him. The only time she seemed at all aware of his being there was when he shivered, much as he had tried to supress it, and he noticed her face tense into something along the lines of stress, concern and mild panic before twitching back to its original state, though perhaps with a more tightly clenched jaw. Hans was a little confused by this. He certainly didn't think it an indication that he was about to ruin the proceedings by dropping dead. Her entrance must have simply let in more cold air. He wished he could move around a little, but remained as dutifully still as Princess Elsa beside him.
Eventually, the priest asked them to face each other and join hands.
Hans turned to face her and held out his hands for her to place hers in. The Princess, however, flashed that look again, turning at a snail's pace to face him. She stared at his outstretched hands but made no move to place her own in his upturned palms. Her brow furrowed as she slowly raised them, concealed by gloves, breathing deeply and deliberately. Hans tried to hide his confusion, offering an encouraging smile that she didn't see, too focused on the task at hand. Finally, her delicate fingertips touched his palms, and he curled his own fingers around hers. He could feel that they were freezing through their gloves, and rubbed the backs of them gently with his thumbs. She started slightly, and Hans wondered if he were being too forward. Whatever that meant, since they were literally in the middle of getting married.
The priest dictated vows for him to repeat. Fairly standard: be faithful to her and protect and cherish her until he died, et cetera. He repeated the words, trying to look her in the eye as he did so, finding that he meant them more than he had expected. She had a vulnerable quality about her, as though she begged for protection, and he found himself willing to give it. She glanced up rather timidly, and seemed caught in his bold gaze.
Then it was her turn to speak. The priest fed her the first line, and she licked her lips and cleared her throat quietly before taking a breath to speak. There was something about the way she did those little things that made her seem more real to him, and him more devoted to her. When she spoke, making essentially the same promises as he had to her, her voice was strong and clear. It wasn't what he had expected, but he thought it suited her better than the high-pitched lilting he half expected. This voice belonged to a queen. During her own vows, she glanced at the priest, but mostly stared ahead, at the middle of Hans' chest. He hoped she wasn't refusing to meet his eyes because she planned to go back on her word.
Next he instructed them to remove their gloves for the exchanging of the rings. Pulling back his hands, Hans quickly slipped off both gloves and tucked them into his pocket. He then held his hands, now exposed to the biting cold that he could swear just got seriously more severe, out for hers. Hers remained gloved and hovering where he had left them. Her Highness simply stared at them again. Hans waited for a beat, then murmured, "Would you like me to…?" He reached for her left hand, but she squared her shoulders and whispered a declination.
She slid off her left glove, placing it on the pillow Princess Anna had pranced forward to hold out to them. She grinned at each of them in turn, and Hans responded with a jaunty raising of his brow, deeming a wink too much.
He took the smaller of the pair of rings there, lifting her narrow hand in his large one, sliding the ring carefully onto the fourth finger as he again followed the officiant's directions, placing his hand over hers as he finished reciting the words.
As soon as he was done, she withdrew her hand, snatching his ring off the pillow with a shaking hand, gingerly holding his and speeding through the required verbiage and shoving it onto his finger. As soon as that was done, she retrieved her glove and pulled it back on as quickly as possible.
"You may now kiss the bride," the elderly priest declared. Anna clapped quietly from behind Elsa, bouncing up and down again.
Hans slowly pushed back her veil, trying not to notice the way she cringed ever so slightly away from him when he did. Maybe her whole problem was the idea of marrying him. That would certainly explain her odd behaviour. Well, he had plenty of time to prove that he could make a good husband. He slid one hand along her jaw until the ends of his fingers touched the back of her neck, the top two resting in her silky hair. Her big blue eyes only grew wider as he leant toward her, bending to her height to reach her mouth. He noticed his breath clouding in front of him just before he reached her, closing his eyes as their lips met. Hers were slightly open in shock or fear, possibly both, so his own fit perfectly against them. He applied a little pressure, and then drew back after the acceptable amount of time. He noted with some pleasure that she had opened her eyes slightly after him, meaning she hadn't stared at him incredulously the whole time. Would've made for a rather awkward scene, honestly.
Now properly wed, they led the way out of the church into the square. People they passed on the way to the royal carriage looked shocked but pleased to see their monarch, albeit apparently having just married a stranger.
The newlyweds climbed into the carriage, Elsa first, reluctantly accepting his hand to help her up. Hans then realised that Princess Anna was joining them, helping her in before stepping in himself. The sisters sat opposite each other, the younger staring adoringly at the elder, who simply looked uneasy in the direction of the window. Hans slid onto the bench next to his wife.
After a beat of silence, Hans cleared his throat, managing to attract only the gaze of the second sister. "I suppose we haven't really been introduced. Prince Hans of the Southern Isles," he said with a seated bow and a bit of mock-seriousness, given the circumstances. Then he cocked his head at the beauty by his side. "Actually, am I? What's my title now?"
"You'll be the Prince Hans of Arendelle, Consort to Queen Elsa of Arendelle after my coronation next year," she answered assuredly. "Until then, you can shall remain Prince Hans of the Southern Isles."
"And I presume you are my sister, Princess Anna?" he queried of the energetic girl on the opposite bench.
She nodded vigorously, enough to make him wonder how many pins had been crammed into her hair to make it stay in its perfectly crafted chiffon. "You can just call me Anna if you like. How exciting, to think I have a brother!" she exclaimed, bouncing in her seat and clapping her hands delightedly.
Hans laughed. "I'm glad the prospect pleases you, sister. I have plenty of brothers, and I don't think I should be so excited at the idea of another," he replied.
Anna blinked. "How many brothers do you have?" she queried.
"Twelve older brothers. A couple of them pretended I was invisible, literally, for two whole years. But I guess that's what brothers do. Well, except this one, hopefully," he delivered his anecdote jovially, and hoped he wouldn't set himself up to be at odds with the princess. He already deemed that a risk in light of the way she kept staring at her sister, looking star-struck. Perhaps she would resent him for taking up Princess Elsa's time, or intruding on their time together.
She didn't seem troubled by his presence yet, and he doubted she could conceal it if she did. She appeared rather charmingly artless, as though she was the type to act first and be hit by the consequences as much later as possible.
They came to a stop back in the castle courtyard, and Hans alighted and helped the princesses do the same. Though really Elsa should have been first, Anna seemed determined to be out in the open, jumping down and pulling her hand from his in order to run to one of the fountains where a family of ducks had come to rest. Hans tried to hide his surprise standing straight and offering his hand, now back in its glove, to his bride, noting meanwhile that Anna had managed to get right near the ducklings without frightening them away. One hopped into her outstretched hand as he watched.
At length, his wife placed her hand in his and stepped out of the carriage, snatching it back as soon as she could. Even when she touched him, it was with the slightest pressure and only with a few fingertips. With her head held regally high, she made to walk into the castle. Hans offered his arm, but she ignored it, striding into the castle. He wondered if he should follow, and decided to hang around the younger princess for a while. If he was needed, he was sure she could send for him.
He walked up to Anna, where she sat on the side of the fountain, talking to the pair of ducklings cradled in her cupped hands. "I'm impressed. I've never found wild animals to be so trusting," he commented. The little balls of down shrank back at the sound of his voice.
She turned to him with a happy smile, swinging her legs. Hans wondered how old she was. "You just have to show them that you don't want to hurt them, and they don't have any reason to fear you. Then they won't," she informed him confidently. She swung her arms towards him, and the frightened baby birds flapped their tiny wings ineffectually.
Despite her simplistic declarations, he had no idea how to do what she suggested. He wondered if she was maybe a bit simple. He had heard that animals could sense such things and knew not to fear those people. He stared at the birds, which stared back, trapped. Bending at the waist, he gave a deep bow. Making his voice as unthreatening as possible, trying to soften his demeanour with all his might, he told them pleasantly, "Hello, I am Prince Hans of the Southern Isles."
He straightened. Anna looked at him quizzically, and he shrugged in return. He really didn't know anything about ducklings. "Was that Sudais?" she asked.
"Yes. One tends to speak in one's mother tongue when talking to animals. Sometimes even when distracted... I suppose it's lucky I didn't have to memorise the vow then," he joked. Sometimes it slipped out when he was focusing more on how he was speaking rather than what he said. "I suppose Arendellian ducks only speak Arendellian. I meant to say, 'good day to you'," he added to the ducks.
Anna laughed, and something seemed to have appeased the birds because they calmed, even making throaty noises to join in with the girl's mirth. Removing his gloves, he held a hand next to the princess's and she allowed one of the ducklings to waddle onto it. He stroked its little head, laughing quietly, before depositing it back into the basin of water.
"So, I have to ask…" Hans started on the more serious topic, leaning against the stone next to his sister-in-law. "Princess Elsa doesn't seem… particularly…" he trailed off, unsure how to describe her behaviour.
Anna placed her duckling back into the fountain and shifted to face him. "She never does. I don't think it's anything personal," she said, furrowing her brow unhappily. She sighed, looking more subdued than he would have thought possible for the girl. "We used to be close, when we were kids, and then one day she just… shut me out. And I never found out why. She's always in her room, or in the study, doing paperwork, writing letters, I don't really know. All the ministers and advisors write proposals and advice or feedback, and she reads them and decides what to do. I've never heard anyone complain that she ignores the advice, but she doesn't have meetings like Papa used to."
Hans was surprised. Was this isolation self-inflicted? He couldn't think of another reason for it, or who else would impose it on the sovereign. "Does she at least eat with you?" he asked, wondering how far she drove herself into this solitude.
"No, she eats alone. Ever since the gates have been closed, she doesn't leave the castle. After Mama and Papa… Well, nobody sees her much," Anna recounted sadly. This part of the story was very familiar to him, as courts the world over buzzed with gossip about the royal family becoming more reclusive, the king and queen leaving their daughters behind when attending any functions. Upon their death at sea, the princesses, guided by their advisors until Elsa came of age and could formally ascend, ought to have stepped up and filled the gap their parents had left behind. They had not.
He placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. "It's always a bit uncomfortable when there's a delay in the new monarch's ascension, I understand. I think it more than likely that your sister is waiting to formally become Queen before she publically takes up the role. If I were she, I would certainly be studying up to make sure I knew everything I could about how Arendelle runs. I'm sure everyone thought she'd have much more time, be much older before she came to the throne," he suggested. He wanted to soothe her, but he was hopeful that what he suggested was the underlying cause. He was mystified as to why Elsa suddenly severed ties with her own family so young though.
The enigma presented by his wife would certainly occupy his time though, so he wouldn't be bored in his new home.