Sultan Ali

(A/N: To avoid offending any readers, I'll spoil this much, at least. That everything the vizier is saying, and to a degree how he's acting, is exaggerated for certain reasons that will be revealed later...)

For the next while he'd totally stepped back from the role or ruler. He'd attempted to keep himself hidden away in that cabin of his, but she'd refused to spend another night alone in their bed and had ensured he stayed put in the castle. He'd compromised by offering to take to the seas for a while and do his job as an Admiral. She'd almost told him to lock himself away in the cabin instead. At least there he was relatively safe. He'd laughed at her and told her he wouldn't go off on overnight sailing voyages, and that he'd be there with her every night. She'd agreed to a trial period and he'd kept true to his word. It was probably the best thing he could do for himself anyway. The sea relaxed him, made him feel at home. When he was forced to remain in one place too long, he started to get stir crazy. When he started to get stir crazy, that was when he began to start to try and distract himself by keeping his mind occupied on politics and diplomacy and general ruling.

He'd put his foot down on Edvard's flirting, much to Edvard's annoyance. The man had gotten the picture, though, and gone back to playing mediator between his sister and her suitors, which was definitely for the best. The two had been starting to get a little more physical with one another in their battle for Louise. When Edvard had told them to kiss already, right in front of Louise, he'd nearly been beaten to a fine pulp. At least it had made the duo more reserved about their confrontations with one another, though. It went back to more verbal than physical clashes. Elsa wasn't entirely sure that was for the best, however. Sometimes words were far worse… For now, though, they weren't the concern. She and Hans were meeting today with a Sultan, and the whole situation had Elsa more than a little nervous.

"The Sultan pushed it back quite a long time, didn't he?" she asked.

"By a month," Hans confirmed.

"Because of it being a queen who was reigning monarch?" Elsa asked.

"Possibly, but I think it was more that something came up in Agrabah that kept him busy," Hans answered, getting ready for the meeting.

"Agrabah. That's the name of the place?" she asked.

"Yeah," he answered.

"What do I need to wear?" she asked.

"I don't even know if he'll want you there," Hans answered. "You did read through that book of customs in the Middle East, didn't you?"

"I did," Elsa said. And it had been more than a little hard to remain unbiased after doing so, but she was nothing if not understanding and respectful of other cultures, so she'd managed to keep her personal feelings under control and try to understand it through their eyes. It had made things a lot easier.

"Don't wear your ice dress," he said.

"That goes without saying," Elsa answered, stripping then searching through her closet for something much more modest. She pulled one out with a smile, admiring it. It was nice. And modest too. It could do the trick. She began to dress.

He observed her and smirked. "Is it just me, or are you gaining weight, love?" he teased. She stiffened, tensing, then shot him a dark look before finishing clothing herself in it.

"What if I am?" she answered.

"Your time of the month?" he asked. She looked sharply at him. "Moody. Definitely your time to bleed. One of those bloated months, I see."

"Bite your tongue or I'll freeze your lips shut," she threatened.

"Then you wouldn't be able to enjoy this," he said, turning her head to him and stealing a kiss. She caught her breath and closed her eyes, relishing in it before he pulled away. "And I'm sure you'll want to enjoy it as best you can, because I'm not going within a country mile of certain other places when they're otherwise occupied." Blood was blood was blood as far as he was concerned, no matter where it came from, and he wanted no part of that nonsense. She harrumphed but didn't grace him with an answer. Instead, she formed a head-covering and looked at herself in a mirror.

"This is actually really nice," she remarked, brightening a little.

"Yes, it is," he replied, checking her over. "Here I'd hoped it would keep Edvard's eyes off you. Instead it makes you look all the more mysterious."

She smiled, rolling her eyes. "I have an appointment with Jekyll. We should be done before they arrive," she said.

"Another gynecology one?" Hans asked, smile falling to an unimpressed frown.

She smirked. "No. Wow, Franz's talk is getting to you, Chameleon Prince," she teased. "Or should I say king now?"

"I prefer Writer of Fairy Tales," he answered. He kind of liked that pet name, despite its length. "And I still don't like this examination business," he flatly added as an afterthought, frowning.

Elsa smiled. More than once Franz had ranted about how well Jekyll must know his way around the female anatomy. She got the sense the middle prince was a bit jealous, possibly feeling a little inadequate. Jekyll knew that fact well and had taken to often exploiting it, lecturing Franz regularly on the finer points and workings of female anatomy whenever the two were forced to try and get along. "You know, I saw a woman in town all but throwing herself onto the good doctor. His response was to tell her she had a concerning lump growing that she should have someone take a look at. She took it as a reciprocation and asked him to do it. He obliged. Told her he had quite a few experimental potions he would like to try on it. She assumed he meant something else."

"Oh boy," Hans said.

"Mmm hmm. So when she came out about ten minutes later with a basket full of potions, the woman was livid," Elsa said, giggling.

"Yeah. That's definitely Jekyll," Hans replied, rolling his eyes.

"You should know by now that Jekyll has no interest in sexual matters, so I wouldn't be so worried if I were you. Leave that to Franz," Elsa said, smiling.

Hans sighed. "Fine. I'll try," he relented. She smiled and kissed him before going to find Jekyll.

Frozen

"How have you been, Queen Elsa?" Jekyll asked.

"I don't know," she answered, looking down. "Doctor, is this a certainty?"

"You're still in denial? Yes, Elsa. It's a certainty," Jekyll answered. She was quiet. His gaze softened. "I know it feels wrong to you, in the wake of everything, but it is what it is," he said.

"I know," she answered with a sigh.

"Come on, let's examine you and get you back to business as quickly as possible. The Sultan's ship approaches on the horizon. It's a splendid thing," Jekyll said, peering out the window. "A good many young ladies are keeping their eyes peeled. It's said he is young and very handsome. I suppose the romanticism of it all is getting to them. Afraid that if he takes a fancy to any of them, they'll be in for a very rude awakening."

"You're sounding very judgemental, Jekyll," Elsa teased.

"I suppose," Jekyll admitted. "But don't be too quick to bet on it. Good luck with the meeting."

"Thank you," she replied as Jekyll began the examination.

Frozen

Hans paced restlessly. Where was Elsa? She was running late. The Sultan's ship was in port. By now the man must be heading up! "Hans!" Elsa called. He could have given a cheer.

Quickly he turned and moved to meet her, taking her arms gently. "There you are," he said. "What took so long?"

"I had to stop and marvel at the ship," Elsa answered. "It might actually surpass the ships of the Southern Isles. It looks like it's made of gold. It's bejewelled with gems of every kind you could imagine! I don't even know how that thing hasn't sunk. And the sails… They look like they're spun of dyed silk, or thin gold or moonbeams."

"I dislike him," Hans deadpanned.

"Wow, you princes really don't like being second best at anything, do you?" Elsa teased.

"Elsa, I've been second best all my life. Or third best, or fourth best, or fifth best…" Has began. He trailed off looking startled, then kind of depressed. "Wow. I've never been number one in anything." He was always trailing behind at least one other brother even in areas where he excelled! Well, that was an ego killer.

"Not quite. I'm pretty sure none of them can compete with your ability to blend in," Elsa said.

"You mean to deceive," he flatly interpreted. She blushed, clearing her throat and looking sheepishly away. "Yeah, I'm the best at that. I probably always will be. The best at treachery too. But those aren't exactly things I want to boast up… Well, maybe a little. I mean, not like that, I mean… Oh this is going downhill fast."

"I know what you mean," Elsa assured, gently squeezing his arm. "Now, let's get into our positions. "I think… I think maybe you should take the lead in this. They'll be more inclined to listen to you."

"You said it, not me," he said.

"Wow, you're paranoid," she teased, grinning at him. Inwardly, though, she was worried. She knew very well what power did to him, and she was giving him a lot when he was barely down off the latest power high. Whether this would backfire on her or not, she didn't know. It worried her.

"Announcing the Sultan of Agrabah!" the crier called out. Gasping, Hans and Elsa swiftly dove for their thrones. Before the doors had opened, they'd both put on the air of regality and control. Admittedly Hans better than Elsa, but hey, Chameleon Prince. Their gazes fixed on the door and they waited. Arabian music began to waft through the halls as his entourage entered before him, playing soft sounding percussion instruments and some strings in quite the entrancing melody. Elsa couldn't help but perk up slightly. She approved of this introduction sequence. Hans, noticing her peaked interest, was suddenly even less thrilled to be meeting the young ruler.

"Kai, what are we dealing with here?" he whispered to the butler quickly.

"He's gorgeous," Kai answered.

"Dammit," Hans hissed, eyes darkening slightly. He quickly put back on the welcoming mask, though, giving Elsa a fake grin when she looked at him suspiciously, then turned to the door again doing his best to behave. When the young ruler set foot inside the room, Elsa caught her breath and Hans's lips parted in disbelief. Oh, this wasn't happening.

Frozen

"Sultan Ali of Agrabah!" the crier introduced as the young man looked up.

Fu…lip. No, behave. Behave, damn you!

"Damn," they heard a servant whisper from behind. Hans had half a mind to roast said servant, but he didn't. He remained cool, collected, composed, and subtly suspicious. Best not let them think they were totally off guard here in Arendelle. Elsa was taking her cues from him, he noted. Good.

For a moment, Hans remained sitting, silently observing the Sultan and his vizier. Not too long, though. Only a few seconds. Just long enough to make the Sultan a little unsure. Then he rose, taking Elsa's hand and pulling her to her feet with him. "Sultan Ali, Arendelle welcomes you," he said, bowing slightly. Elsa curtseyed cautiously.

"What is the woman doing here?" the vizier questioned, glaring at Elsa.

"The woman is my wife," Hans answered flatly, turning to the man warningly. A mask, Elsa sensed. The vizier was trying to control the situation. Hans was mirroring him precisely. She would have liked Hans to point out to the vizier that Arendelle had taken measures to respect their culture and so they should do the same here, but she didn't. She assumed there was a reason for it she wasn't seeing, but she didn't question his silence on the matter. "She's here at my request."

"The Sultan will not conduct business with her present," the vizier said, tone less hostile but still cold.

"Fortunately, this isn't business. We are welcoming you to our land, it's simple as that," Hans answered. "And vizier, if this is your greeting immediately upon meeting potential allies, I very much marvel how you have any partners in trade at all. Kindly let the Sultan speak for himself. Remember your place."

"How dare…" the vizier began. The Sultan gave him a warning look and he trailed off immediately. "Very well," the vizier relented, though obviously he was less than happy with this turn of events. "But I speak for the Sultan until otherwise commanded by him."

Hans looked to the Sultan, but the young man made no move to silence the vizier. Hmm, he got the feeling this boy was little more than a puppet… So why, when he looked at him, did he want to reflect anything but a puppet? He turned back to the vizier. "Agreed," he replied. "I'll have the servants show you to your quarters. Dinner will be taken at seven. Tomorrow we'll get into business."

"The Sultan does not want the woman present," the vizier said.

"Her name is Elsa. You'll use it in my presence, as well as her title of Queen," Hans warned. "I very much wonder, vizier, if her being absent is the Sultan's desire as much as it is yours. However, if that's the condition then very well." Elsa subtly and sharply squeezed his hand, put out at the response, and he inwardly winced. Great. Another possible argument. Just what he needed now. "We will see you at seven."

"You will see us at seven," the vizier corrected. "We would dine with the king, not the queen."

Hans was quiet. "Fine," he finally answered. Another sharp, and more painful, squeeze. Mixed with a sharp freezing sensation. He bit the inside of his cheek to keep from making a sound of discomfort. Oh, this wasn't going to be pretty. Soon the Sultan and vizier were escorted away, along with the entourage, and Elsa was wordlessly marching back towards their bedroom and making it clear, without a word or touch, that Hans was to follow. He rolled his eyes with a scoff but did so anyway.

Frozen

"How could you let them get away with that?!" Elsa furiously demanded of him. He sat quietly, waiting for her anger to show some signs of subsiding. It wasn't looking promising, and now she was all but demanding an answer, so he couldn't keep playing the silent game or he'd be all but thrown out of the castle. Well, probably not, but you got the picture. He definitely wouldn't be in their bed tonight. He'd be lucky to be allowed in it as things were.

"Because politics, Elsa, are a very delicate game," Hans replied. "Most rulers we've dealt with thus far have been on the same page as us. These guys aren't. They're on a whole other level. Agrabah is wealthy beyond belief and they've gone unconquered for thousands of years. Not even the Crusades touched them! At all, love. That means they're doing something right, so we probably don't want to antagonize them. I give them the upper hand tonight, maybe for a little while tomorrow, but it won't last. I play the begrudging submissive a bit longer, they start to get cocky, then I show my true colors and they suddenly get a major reality check and realize with a jolt that they're not in Agrabah anymore. I take back control, they're flustered, they're put into a position where they have to frantically try to process things as they stand in wake of the change, and they start making potentially stupid calls that will only benefit Arendelle in the end."

"That's underhanded!" Elsa said. "We're not the Southern Isles, Hans. At least make the deals fair when they sign them in a fluster."

"Fine. For you I will, for the Southern Isles I won't. They're going to end up exploited by my people, more specifically Moren's people, six ways to Sunday," Hans said.

"I can't believe you!" she shot.

"I have the list of demands Caleb wants met, I'm sticking to them," Hans said. "Look, will it make you happy if I try to make it fair regardless?"

"Yes!" Elsa replied.

"Fine, but odds are it'll end up backfiring on Arendelle, third party or not," Hans replied.

"Then that's on my head, but you aren't exploiting those people!" Elsa said. "No matter how jerkish their ruler is."

"The vizier was the one talking," Hans said.

"For the Sultan," she replied.

"Between you and me, I think there's more to this than we're seeing," Hans replied.

"What do you mean?" she asked.

"I don't know… Just when I looked at him… I don't know how to explain it," he said with a frustrated sigh. It was like… like he didn't know what to reflect. Or maybe he did just couldn't identify it in himself? Or need to. It was the vizier he'd needed to deal with, not his Sultan. "I'm hoping to get the opportunity to interact with the ruler over dinner or tomorrow," he added. Then he would have a clue as to what to reflect. And as to what he was dealing with. "Look, it'll work out, I promise. Just trust me. Before this visit is done, I'll see him on his knees before you."

"I don't want that, Hans," she answered. "Get him to acknowledge me as a thinking human being and I'll be happy enough. I don't care that I have to take a back seat this time, I just want to feel like I have a voice. I mean, he couldn't even call me by name."

"Oh, he will. Mark my words he will," Hans replied slightly darkly.

"No Southern Isles methods," she said, frowning.

"Seriously?!" he demanded. "Why do you always think that…"

"Tell me I'm wrong," she challenged. He blinked at her and grimaced, saying nothing. "I thought so," she said with a knowing smile.

"Yeah, rub it in," he grumbled. He checked the time. "I should start getting ready. I'll let you know how it all goes. I'll run their proposals by you before agreeing to anything."

"I trust you to do right by Arendelle. I don't trust you to do right by them," she replied. "At least not in regards to the arrangement with the Southern Isles."

"I'll try, okay?!" he defended. "Wow, you're really touchy lately." She flushed brightly, seemed to be trying to stammer something, then swiftly left the room and the confused prince behind. What was with her? This was one of her worse monthly spells, he noted. He sighed, shaking his head hopelessly, then started to get ready for dinner.

Frozen

Hans entered the dining room at exactly seven. The vizier and Sultan were already there. Not seated, but standing. They looked over at him and the vizier grimaced. "The Sultan has decided he wishes the woman's presence," the man said.

"The what?" Hans asked.

For a moment, the vizier was silent. "Queen Elsa's presence," he soon corrected, all but gritting his teeth. "So, summon her, your Majesty. Send for your wife."

Of course he did, Hans spitefully told himself. He knew he was being a bit irrational, but what did he care? "Very well," Hans answered. He went to the door where Kai was. "The Sultan wishes Elsa's company," he said. "Beg her to hurry."

"Yes milord," Kai answered, speeding off to find Elsa.

Hans turned back to the vizier and Sultan. "Please, have a seat," he said, gesturing. They did so and once they were seated, he sat as well.

"The woman… Your wife is taking a long time," the vizier remarked.

"She's trying to honor your cultural views and going through great lengths to respect them," Hans answered. "So few people do that these days, wouldn't you agree?" The Sultan let out a noise that sounded almost like a snicker at the King's tongue-in-cheek. Hans looked quickly at him, eyes wide. Wow. Had there actually been reaction? The ruler sat stoically, though, and Hans raised an eyebrow before turning back to the vizier, who looked appalled at the response.

Soon the door opened and Hans turned. Elsa stood there quietly, waiting to be summoned forward. Hans rose, nodding to her and reaching out his hand. She approached and took it before sitting at his side. "Your Majesty," she greeted the Sultan, paying little to no attention to the vizier. The Sultan nodded in response but little else. "Are your chambers satisfactory, gentlemen?"

"They'll do," the vizier answered. He made a sound of pain and grimaced, shooting a dark look at the Sultan before turning back to them. "They're better than expected." Another sound of pain. "They're perfect," he bitterly relented through gritted teeth.

"They're among the grandest we have. I'm glad you liked them," Elsa said, again addressing it to the Sultan rather than the vizier.

"It's me you'll speak to, girl," the vizier said.

"You, vizier, speak for the Sultan, not of your own accord. It would be wise if you remembered it," Elsa bit before she could check herself. The man was up in a heartbeat, throwing the contents of his wine glass at her and then the glass itself!

Frozen

Elsa was quick to move back with a gasp, freezing the wine without thinking. The vizier's eyes widened in shock, horror, and appal. Hans was up in a second. "Guards!" he viciously shouted. He could put up with a lot, but he was drawing the line right here! How dare this man treat his wife like this?!

"No! Enough. It's fine, husband, it's fine. Different customs across cultures, I suppose, because certainly our 'guest' wouldn't be trying to antagonize us purposely," Elsa assured in an all too cheery voice, composing herself quickly. Oh, if only Hans knew how satisfying it was to see the vizier's expression. That alone made up for everything to this point. She noted curiously that the Sultan was covering his mouth slightly, shoulders subtly shaking in what almost seemed to be a silent laugh? It had to be a laugh, because the man certainly wasn't silently sobbing.

"Put your little bit…" the vizier began. Suddenly the Sultan shot to his feet, roughly pushing the vizier into his chair. The vizier scowled up at the ruler but relented, falling silent. The Sultan sat back down and went back to acting like absolutely nothing out of the ordinary had happened. "So, she has powers. Disturbing," the vizier said. "This could be construed as an unacceptable threat, you know."

"She'll be the least of your worries if you pull a stunt like that again. You have yet to see the nightmare I can become," Hans darkly threatened. Even without powers. He finally composed himself enough to sit back down without wanting to spring across the table and stab the man. Elsa followed suite, grinning victoriously to herself. She was gladder for the head covering now than she'd ever let anyone know. "Now, let's eat," Hans said. They almost didn't dare to speak a word all throughout. That would be a far too risky venture about now, but it was probably just as risky to stay quiet. "Is there a Sultana of Agrabah, I wonder?" Hans finally dared ask, trying to word things as carefully as he could. The Sultan stopped eating dead in his tracks. After a long moment, though, he began again. He didn't seem to be sitting as straight up as before, though, and Hans frowned to himself. Ooh… he probably should have kept quiet. He got the sense there was some story behind the action. Probably one best not pried into. "Sorry," he murmured. Okay, silence it was then. Well tomorrow would be fun. Not.