Years had passed... Only two, by now, but they had been long and unstable. Half the time, Anna was trying to find a way back into Hans' good books, and for a while she had been fooled that they were making progress, but time and time again she had been disappointed.
Hans was less physically abusive after the first few months passed, but the torture was never over. So far he had successfully turned her own daughter against her, and her only support was that of the darling Olaf, who would visit her in the night.
All the staff of her childhood had been slowly fired and replaced by other people who were colder and didn't understand her. Even Kai, their major domo had been forced to retire, but he was getting up on age anyway.
She missed him and Gerda the most. She missed Elsa, and Kristoff...
Anna ran the coarse fur through her fingers again and hummed, deep in thought. She lifted the mittens up and inspected them for a moment before placing them down and then picking up the boots, and coat and hat that had been fashioned from what appeared to be the same hide.
Hans flicked his attention back over to his wife as she stroked the fur on the hat, absent minded, and grinned as a thought came to mind.
He slowly sat up and approached the queen, lost so much in concentration that she almost screamed when he gently rested a hand on her shoulder. Her gaze soured and she pursed her lips, glaring up at the man who had made her suffer.
She recently made the discovery that she may be pregnant again and had gone without sleep for weeks due to the stress. She worried about how he would react, or if she would be able to handle another baby.
With the current circumstances surrounding their family, she was unsure if bringing a poor child into this world so full of fear, hatred and lies was a good idea.
She he placed a hand protectively over her belly for a moment and asked, "What do you want?"
Hans chuckled and grinned, kneeling down beside her and holding her hand above her abdomen, a faint glimmer... A ghost of the man he could have been, shining in his eyes for a moment as he focused on their hands there.
for a moment her heart fell and she wondered if perhaps this little nightmare would be over soon, as though there was hope for them...
He looked back up at her and the moment was yet again shattered, just like every other moment of false hope had been. A smug smirk made its greasy way onto his lips and his eyes darkened and he gently squeezed her hand.
"I see you've been keeping secrets from me." He said with mock seriousness.
Anna scoffed at the playful remark and scowled, looking away and ignoring him. He frowned a little and then stood up, and sighed.
"Anna, you know, I may have been ...out of line for a while now, and I know things have been difficult for us." He began, but with time although so little, Anna could see right through his little act.
She also had found out that he didn't like it very much when she called his bluff, and so she decided to give him her full attention as though to humor him. How long she would be able to keep it up was another question.
Conceal... She'd tell herself... Don't feel...
Elsa had made that look so simple. To just...NOT FEEL.
Seeing her shift her gaze, he wickedly grinned in the back of his mind, and then continued, his face a perfect piece of artwork, its features and details intricately laced into an impenetrable veil.
"Anna, I know we can start this thing over. You just need to give me a chance." He said.
Anna rolled her eyes, fed up already with this act. How dare he sit there and tell her he can change. This man was a BEAST... a true wolf in sheep's clothing.
"You never gave my SISTER a chance, you pig." She hissed, crushing the fur laden mittens beneath her fingers.
In the next few seconds she was terrified with her daring act. She considered running for the dor, or ducking, covering her face...
Her hands instinctively flew over her belly and the sickly, cold, shocks of horror flooded her systems as he abruptly stood up and over her.
He grit his teeth, eyes narrowed, nose wrinkled in detest. He scoffed at the way she covered her abdomen, truly insulted to know she thought he would dare harm his own unborn child. A demented urge to do it anyway to punish her came to mind but he shoved that aside, his focus turning to the way she gripped the reindeer skin clothing so close to her.
Delighted with this irony, he laughed and plucked the mittens from her grasp and slipped them on, relishing in the warmth of them, as though the lowly beast were still alive.
Anna flinched at the movement and began to tremble as she attempted to anticipate his next move.
He stepped back and then inspected the articles laid out on the bed beside them.
"They're quite impressive aren't they? I had them made myself." He bragged.
"I noticed." Anna relplied, almost giving into the false relief she was overcome waith due to the change in subject. She knew it was false relief though, he was too calm...too casual for this to be a legitimate opportunity to discuss clothing
"You know, I never thought reindeer to be essential..." He commented, chancing a few steps closer to her again as he picked up the other articles, absently,
"They're crude," he chuckled, "and unspeakably plain... However..."
He ran the back of his gloved hand over her cheek gently, letting the warmth of it embrace her cheek, before sharply smacking her clean across it, sneering venomously.
"I put THIS little old friend to good use, I have to say." He stated darkly.
She knew it. There had to be some kind of catch to this, but what she couldn't put her finger on. It wasn't until the way he spoke of 'this little old friend' sank in that a horrible jolt exploded within her.
Out from under his belt he tossed her a wad of cloth, and she shakily unfolded it, her entire body vibrating so much her joints hurt and she felt as cold as ice.
"AH!" She flung the items of of her hands and onto the floor, the blood stained gloves and hat were far too familiar for her liking and the was of cloth was recognised as a sash...
HIS hat... HIS gloves, and sash...
They lay on the floor, the crimson splatters devastatingly complimented by the red of the velvety carpets.
Hans laughed and stepped on them, particularly roughly and kicked them aside. He grabbed her arms with his wooly gloves and threw her to the ground, her head now resting next to the hat...the same one he tried to keep her warm with.
"No... NO!" She wailed, clutching the little things in her frail hands, and pressing them to her bleeding heart.
"KRISTOFF!" She sobbed.
Hans kicked her as she continued to carry on, suddenly afraid that she might attract unwanted attention. He fell to the floor and snatched up her throat in his hand and he cursed.
Anna squealed momentarily and then shuddered before falling silent. Her eyes flicked from the blood stained mittens, to the fur ones that gripped her, and she suddenly began to make the connection..
"wh-what did you...d-do?" She whimpered.
He sharply laughed, and replied, "The poor things served their purpose well...but it was time for them to retire, my sweet."
He let go and stormed out of the room, half satisfied, half pissed at the way the events had unfolded. No matter how much he tried he was never going to get her back on his side, so there was no point in being 'nice'... But no matter how much he loved to hear her wail and scream, and lament, it was never enough.
He'd just have to make a visit to his little pet down at the old asylum.
He didn't even notice the two little faces, recoiling in fear as he passed them by, watching him with held breath as he trudged down the hall.
Olaf was already in silent tears, his heart was beating faster than ever before, and he suddenly wondered if the same man who would play with him and hold him, and read to him everyday...was the same one who just walked away.
Hetty was more confused, wondering what her Mother did wrong. No one got treated that way unless something bad happened. She would know, since Olaf was always getting smacked for being too silly, or talking back, but at the same time, to see her mother lying on the floor like a dog, crying like that...
But her papa was a good man wasn't he?
Olaf af made sure the king was far, FAR from sight before bashing his way into the room, the now seven year old prince flung himself onto his mother and she sat up in shock, her own frantic sobbing quieting.
Hetty soon appeared behind him, her concern for her mother overriding any bias she held for her father.
Olaf fisted up her skirts in his hands and his head fell into her lap, while Hetty all but climbed on top of him to reach her mothers face.
"Oh, no..." Anna whispered. Although she hated his control and power, and the way he used them against her, she never wanted her children to see... They didn't deserve to be horrified and confused.
Most of all though, she feared that he would turn on THEM if they began to show any fear towards him. He hated losing control, and she didn't trust him, or know where his limits lay.
She grabbed up her son and daughter and tried to soothe them, unsuccessfully. The little family sat and cried of a while before they settled to set up camp, right next to the slowly dimming hearth.
Olaf was asleep in her lap now, and Hetty was wide awake, staring at the red marks covering Anna's face.
Anna rubbed her hands up and down her little girl, hoping to warm her up with the friction. She felt so cold...
"Mama, did you do something bad?" She asked quietly.
Anna sighed and shook her head, not ready to explain to her the adult world of jealousy and deceit.
"No, papa just does that when he gets really angry. He wouldn't do it to you..." She reassured her.
Hetty screwed up her face in doubt and then reached up to touch her mother's cheek, its cold quality soothing it.
Then suddenly, it began to get colder... And colder still..
Anna opened her eyes which she'd unconsciously closed in relaxation, to see little flecks of snow falling around them. She jolted up and the cold sensation remained in her face, even though she had disconnected from Hetty's hand.
Hetty smiled and a patch of frost shrank into her hand. The snow ceased and the warmth returned to her daughter.
"It's cool huh?" She whispered.
Great... Anna thought... Just great.
She inhaled deeply and then with a sigh, she woke up her son.
"Come on you guys. I think it's finally time you knew." She said. They took her hands and she lead them away from the room, the bloodied mittens and hat lying on the floor still. She would be back to hide them away later, but now she would have to come clean to her children.
About Elsa, and Arendelle freezing, and even about Kristoff. With Hetty showing signs of those powers, Hans wouldn't be the only person to turn on her. Fear would overcome her, even if she seemed to have a pretty decent grasp on them right now... it would be inevitable.
She only hoped that what she could teach them, would be able to help them cope with the lives they would soon have to lead. Neither of them, Olaf nor Hetty would be able to look at their father the same again though.
XxXxXxXxXxX
Freezing cold, the dull throbbing feeling of his blood returning to his head, Kristoff blankly stared at the walls of his new cell. After he tried to kill himself again, Hans had decided to change things up a bit.
He was confined to a smaller walking distance, and had closely linked wrist cuffs, which would be impossible to choke himself with. There were no windows or fixtures to hang himself with, and unless he suddenly decided to revoke his newfound acceptance of defeat it would appear that even starving himself was out of the question.
Two years broke his spirit. He had no more desire to escape and no longer wished to live. He was just waiting for the days to get shorter and for his life to end, but it never came.
Well, maybe there was a degree of will power still inside him. He hadn't the bravery or the strength to actually seriously try to take his own life. Most times that he'd tried, ended in him backing out.
Who was he to do something like that? He was lucky he still had a chance. No matter how slim, it was still there.
Sven didn't have a chance to escape. He would have wanted Kristoff to keep fighting.
"Kristoff, why are you sad?" He asked himself, simulating his buddy's voice.
He shrugged and replied, "Well it's been a little rough, Sven. Now I don't even have a bed." He laughed dryly at the pile of soiled hay that he refused to sleep on.
"But you're still alive. Stop trying to hurt yourself, please" he pleaded.
His breath hitched and he hung his head as faint footsteps echoed from the stairs to the left.
"I'll try, buddy...I promise." He breathed.