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Elsa looked around the room as soon as the door was closed, taking stock of everything she had at her disposal. it was not much, and she had nothing that might help her escape the chains, if Hans' warning was true, and her magic would not help her out of her current situation. She looked at her hands, curling her fingers a bit and wincing as pain shot through her hands. His magic seemed to linger behind, keeping the pain fresh and keeping her hand motions limited. She was not sure if she would be able to cast any of her usual spells without use of her hands, but that was probably the point.
Hans seemed to have put a lot of thought into all of this. Why he kept her alive she could not yet guess, but he was not going to let her use her magic. At least not without paying for it, but she wondered if that was what he wanted her to think. Maybe he was simply trying to trick her, he was a very devious sort, and was putting thoughts into her head to dissuade her before she even tried to make an escape effort. It was a dangerous thought to find herself in, and she was not sure which way to lean. Err on the side of caution, and assume her magic would not work, or try it anyway and accept the risk?
Closing her eyes, she calmed herself before lifting her fingers carefully, slowly, and calling on her magic as she always did. It was so natural, to her, she could hardly explain how to do it to someone else. It was something that she knew, that was a part of her, much like moving an arm, or simply knowing how to speak was for everyone else. The only thing easier was breathing.
At least, it usually was, except when she was so scared.
Pain rippled through her hands from the burns, but it was not until the magic began to coil in the air, the room cooling with the promise of ice, when the real pain hit her. It was like her hands were suddenly on fire, but burning so deeply in her muscles that there was no hope of putting the flame out. It felt like her blood was boiled with acid, and the pain seeped down from her hands into her arms, her shoulders, her back. All through her body she was wracked with the most terrible agony that she had ever experienced, and she let out a horrible scream as it took her over.
Her body revolted against the sudden assault on its every nerve, and she coiled into a ball with no will of her own attached. Her muscles seized and her organs shuddered. She felt bile rising in her throat, while her heart thundered so loudly and wildly in her chest she thought it might explode, or even break free of her rib cage in a triumphant shattering of bone. She heard her voice still in the air, thinking it echoing, but realized distantly that she was still screaming.
Her voice broke from it.
Blackness hit her before the pain faded and she collapsed with it still all around her, fire filling her dreams in vivid intensity. She shuddered on the bed, but as her conscious waned, so did the spell Hans had put over her. A curse of his own, to keep her powers in check for a short time. He had not anticipated the reaction to be so terrible, and as he watched through the small window on the door to her room, he noted that he would have to tone down the magic in that spell if she survived to have it used on her a second time.
When she stopped moving, long after her screams had become choked sobs, Hans moved back into the room to examine her. Blood had seeped from her nose and ears, but it was not a large enough amount for him to be concerned about it. Her cuts from the ice before had also reopened, but the burns on her hands were completely gone. The magic was limited use, and it seemed that one counter for her abilities had drained the entire reserve of magic he had put into it.
He smoothed his hand through her hair, wondering about how hot her skin now felt. She was sweating and trembling, still suffering from the assault, though the primary effect of it had run its course.
"I did tell you not to try that, Elsa," he said softly, with a wicked grin. He watched her face twist in pain and hoped she was dreaming about him. The fear she would know of him would have no bounds, and would be the greatest she had felt in all her life. That was what he wanted, at least part of it. He wanted her to suffer, in every way imaginable.
And then he would make Anna witness the result, before her turn came.
He was not expecting the fist that came flying from the side, not until he saw a flash of it in his peripheral vision before the hand slammed into his jaw, snapped his head to the side with brutal force, and sent him sprawling to the floor before he could utter even a peep. He was unconscious before he hit the ground, the punch itself more than enough to send his senses flying and leave him laid out on the floor.
It was better than he deserved, but there was not time to follow up.
"Queen Elsa, I'm going to pick you up."
Elsa heard the voice somewhere above her, then, after a moment to see if she would respond, felt herself being lifted from the bed. Her shackles fell away and she felt her face resting against something soft and warm, as her body was cradled in a protective shield. She curled against it instinctively, feeling very small and helpless, shivering as she struggled just to keep her breathing even. It took a profound effort to get her eyes to open, and when they did she only saw grays and blurs around her. She lifted her gaze upwards and saw the face looking down at her, but it was almost enough to make her brain turn off in protest.
"Hans...?"
"You're safe, Queen Elsa. Just rest."
His voice was soft and familiar, and it certainly sounded like Hans. The one they new before, albeit briefly and under false pretenses. The one that had been gentle and sweet, and though a little forward in his affections for Anna, he had seemed like a genuinely good man. Someone to trust, to depend on when there was trouble. To love, even, though obviously with the proper amount of time to really get to know him. Elsa's mind wandered, and her eyes rolled as the sounds around her faded once again. She leaned against the warm body she was being held against and let her eyes close.
They would not open again for a few hours.
When she did regain consciousness, it was slow and with no small amount of confusion. She opened her eyes and did not recognize the room she was in. It was small, a little cluttered, and she could see into the kitchen from her place on the bed, which was large enough for one and a half people at best. It was quiet, at least at the moment it was, and she was not sure if she was alone or not. Sweat rolled down her forehead and she found herself too weak to left her hand and wipe it away. A cool cloth quickly relieved her of that problem, and she had to turn her head a bit further than she had been in order to see the man sitting beside her.
At her startled look, the man cut her off before she could speak.
"My name is Ian, Queen Elsa. I am one of the sons of the Southern Isles. You are acquainted with my dear brother, that I know, and I have come here to make sure he does not do anything stupid. It seems I was too late to stop him from hurting you... and for that I can never apologize enough. Please, believe me, I'm not here to do you any more harm." He saw the fear in her eyes and it stung him, though she had no reason to believe him. The only thing she really know about the Southern Isles and its royalty was the impression Hans had set.
Ian was tall, his hair more fair than his brothers, and his eyes set more firmly in his face, complimented by strong features, to give him an older and more mature appearance than his baby brother. He must have been one of the twelve brothers Elsa had heard about so long ago now, but that meant very little to her. She did not feel as though she could trust him any more than she could now trust his brother. How far could the apple fall from the tree? What if all the brothers simply had the same idea, and were working against one another to achieve the same end?
That sounded a little paranoid, even for the feverish, ailing Snow Queen.
"I'm hot," she heard herself say, shifting uncomfortably on the bed, pushing the light blanket she had on her aside. Ian moved to adjust it carefully, to help her feel a bit better, though he knew her body was shivering for a reason and she probably needed the blanket, even if she did not feel it. There was a rumor that even freezing temperatures would not harm Elsa, but he did not really feel like putting that to the test at the moment.
"Shh, just rest. You've been through a lot. Hans has cursed you, somehow, but it will pass." He had no proof of that, but he was trying to make Elsa feel better. If he could just get her to go to sleep again, and let her body heal, she might be able to let her fever break and cool her body down. He smoothed the cloth over her forehead again, eliciting from her a soft, appreciative moan.
"I need... I need to get home... I need to see Anna... to warn... warm..."
Ian nodded his head, watching as she struggled valiantly against sleep, but lost. He tended to her while she was unconscious again, checking her injuries, cleaning up the blood from before and changing her into more comfortable, but certainly not Queen appropriate, clothing. A peasant shirt and a skirt he had gotten from a farm's clothing line in his rush to bring her to safety. They were hiding in a farm house, though the occupants were not to be found, and he was glad for that. he did not want to start a panic by bringing the Queen of Arendelle, in this condition, to random citizens. They would not know how to deal with it, and for good reason.
No one wanted to see their ruler looking so vulnerable.
Elsa slept relatively quietly as he worked, though at one point her dreams gripped her and she, in turn, clung to him. It left bruises on his arms, and burns from the cold that had escaped her touch. At least that meant her magic was still working, though Ian wished there had been another way for him to have discovered that one.
Ian hated his brother for his betrayal, for his slimy attempts to get a crown he had no right to. He was born last in a long line of sons, and that was his role to play. To try to force someone else to change it for him, to steal and lie and even murder... it was not what his father had taught him. Their father was a kind man and a good ruler. When he heard of Hans' actions, he immediately sought appropriate justice, though it pained him to punish his own son. What would he say now, to hear that Hans was at it again, and doing even worse things to this poor girls? He looked at Elsa and felt his heart drooping in his chest. She looked so innocent and helpless, it was hard to think her powers had plunged an entire Kingdom into an eternal winter. Hell, it was difficult to even think she was Queen, as he considered her age and her gentle face.
Someone would have to be a monster to willingly harm her.
It shamed him to know that monster was his brother.
For a moment he watched her breathing, making sure that it was coming evenly, and without pain. The magic that Hans had used on her was fading. When he'd first arrived, she had been in terrible pain, barely able to draw breath without moaning in agony. She was still feverish, but even that had come down, and he was hoping that the spell, or curse, or whatever it had been, would fade sooner rather than later. He moved to wipe her forehead of sweat and cool her with a cloth one more time before he stood to go and get her some food. When she woke the next time, he hoped at least, she would have strength enough to eat something.
Then she could tell him what Hans was up to, and why he had kidnapped her. Ian could then fill her in on the details he knew about his brother, since he was banished, and what he had been able to find in his time searching the young man down. He was his Kingdom's Captain of the Guard, a title he took very seriously, and Hans was a criminal that had proven he was not meant for life outside of a barred cell.
Ian would be all too happy to put him back where he belonged, buried in a dungeon he would never escape from.
He went as quietly as he could, not wanting to wake the Queen again. He could not help but keep glancing back at her, watching her for a moment or two here and there, fretting, he supposed, unnecessarily. She was fine, sleeping quietly now, not even stirring with dreams, and her expression was soft and maybe even distantly happy, but at the very least it was not creased in pain or twisted in a nightmare. This was the first time he had seen her like this, in their short time together, and he was very relieved to see it.
He would tend to her dutifully, as if he were a servant and not a Prince, until she was well enough to dismiss him and not a moment before. He had a deeper sense of honor than his brother, and he would not leave until he was certain Hans would not be able to do her any more harm.
Whatever was necessary: he would do it.
