AN: Well, sorry this chapter took so long to write. I've been feeling hella bleh and not really motivated for some weird reason lol. Um, read and review? This story is going to be just as dramatic and twisty turny as its predecessor, so stick around, y'all. I love every one of my fans, you all are the reason I keep going. Thanks for standing by me in all this no matter how long it takes for me to update lol. There are notes of translation at the bottom. I don't speak a lick of Danish so I used Google Translate. If the translation is in any way off, please tell me in the reviews and I'll change it immediately.

Disclaimer: I don't work for, and never have worked for, Disney. I don't own any aspect of Frozen, and this is a not for profit fanwork. Thank you for reading.

Elsa had passed Kristoff in the hallway as the guards brought Hans up. He looked as if in a daze, bedhead and all. She didn't make eye contact, hoping he didn't remember the night before either. The man looked half asleep as he let the guards pass, dark circles under his eyes like he hadn't slept in weeks standing out in his pale face. Even the scraggly almost beard he was sporting was white in patches, like freshly fallen snow. His gaze was pointed forward, his feet plodding slowly across the floor. It was eerie.

The sight sent shivers down the Queen's spine, but at the same time she couldn't possibly tear her eyes away. Something about the way Kristoff was acting, seemed, off. Even the way he carried himself seemed different from how he normally was. It was strange, but not unheard of. Grief or stress may have affected him, Elsa didn't know what it could have been beside that.

Hans awoke, shivering, in his bed beside Elsa, despite the heat of the fire. The cold permeated his very bones, like Elsa was emanating it.

She had nodded off, her head on his shoulder; it looked as if she didn't even get a chance to change her , honestly, was the truth. She had not left his side in the entire time it took for him to regain consciousness.

All he really remembered was making sure to tie himself to the horse he'd stolen from the revolutionaries to keep from falling off if he'd lost consciousness from the cold or his wounds. The first thing he managed to say upon waking was one short phrase, uttered without a trace of irony: "I hate the cold."

A smile of relief crept onto Elsa's face. "What about me?"

He closed his eyes and drowsed for a moment before speaking again. "You're not cold to me, Elsa."

Her face burned and she lay her heated cheek against his chest.

Hans' whole body felt stiff and ached fiercely, but he relaxed, laying his arm across her back, knowing he was finally back at home, safe and sound with Elsa.

She awoke slowly, blinking her eyes in the midday light.

"Mmn? Hans?" It took her a moment to register she wasn't dreaming, but as soon as she did, she hugged him tightly. "I'm glad you're home. I.. I thought you left us for good."

Hans sighed, pulling her close to him, "Why would you even think that?"

Elsa easily reciprocated the embrace, kissing her husband's bruised and scraped forehead affectionately. There was only so much bandaging they could do, and so many superficial wounds from exposure marring his freckled skin. "It had been months, Hans. It was either that or you were dead."

He cocked an eyebrow at her. "Do I look dead to you?"

"Only half it." She replied, meeting his eyes, attempting to sound serious. Hans could tell she was fighting a smile, though, by the way the corners of her lips rose.

Kristoff left the castle early one morning, still half asleep and found himself face to face with Meinhard somewhere off in the forest. He recognized the area, so he knew he wasn't lost, but that wasn't what was bothering him. Kristoff couldn't put his finger on it, but something felt wrong.

His father smirked broadly as soon as he saw him. "Long time no see."

The mountain man's hair was cut shorter and curled slightly at the edges the way Kristoff's did. With his hair no longer as long as it was, Kristoff didn't recognize him at first. That and the petite dark skinned girl in the oversized blue overcoat beside him that stood out among the snow.

His father clutched the girl's tiny childlike hand in his own massive meaty mitts. "We were looking for you."

The girl had a voice that sounded it had been used either rarely or way too much; it just felt so commanding, Kristoff couldn't help but be compelled to listen and obey. "We want you to join our cause."

"What cause is this?" He couldn't hide the suspicion in his voice, as he narrowed his eyes. "You've might have heard of Den Oplyste ." When Kristoff didn't show any signs of understanding, she went on. "We also call ourselves Sommerens Lys" We believe everyone is created equal under the sight of Heaven."

Kristoff paused, listening carefully. That was something he could easily believe in and follow. "Go on."

"Our... group strives to bring everyone to the same level of equality."

"I get it. That's a good thing, I guess.." He turned to Meinhard. "And why do you want me to help?"

"You're close to the royal family, aren't you?" Meinhard asked.

"Yes?" Kristoff wondered where they were leading this conversation.

"I'm sure you could help us try to make everything better for the rest of us." The mountain man supplied, as the girl stared him down with her intimidating look.

"I suppose I could." Kristoff answered, weighing his options. It wasn't something he could easily outright tell Anna, but he trusted his father enough to be sure he wouldn't lead him astray.

"Do you think you will join us?" Meinhard offered his hand, a hand sewn green armband in his palm.

Kristoff covered the band with his own hand. "Yes."

Finally the girl spoke up after a long moment of silence. "I should tell the others then. To make preparations." Meinhard silently agreed and then she ran off into the forest, blue overcoat still visible amongst the trees as she drew further away.

The mountain man glanced back to his son. "So how about that?"

He was silent for a long moment, voice impassive. "You and she seemed close."

"Yes. Magga and I have been.. seeing each other." Meinhard sounded embarrassed at telling him, giving Kristoff a smile and a shrug.

"So much for loving my mother then." Kristoff hissed, this sudden aggressive attitude and outburst coming out of nowhere, voice harsh as ice crackled down his face from his temples. His fist tightened around the armband still in his hand. "Did she throw herself at you or did you pick her before she was old enough to consent?"

Meinhard blinked in surprise for a moment before he roared at him, gaze steely. "She's been dead for years, son. I'm not going to live my life alone for the rest of it if I can help it."

Kristoff made a disgusted sound in the back of his throat as if to say of course.

"Magga may be twenty years my junior, but she's sweet on me. And she knows how to handle a crowd."

"She looks as if she's sixteen!" Kristoff exploded, fighting to get his father to see his reasoning, an impossible to placate rage rapidly rising in him from an unknown source.

"She may be small but she packs a mighty punch." Meinhard shrugged, wondering what had gotten into him, his tone snippy. "I don't see why I have to explain myself to you, boy."

Kristoff scoffed and turned, before he started to walk away, back to the castle. Everyone had to be awake by now.

The mountain man called after him as he strode away, leaving Meinhard still standing there, in shock. "What has even gotten into you?"

Den Oplyste - The Enlightened (Danish)

Sommerens Lys - Summer's Light (Danish)

AN: Modern Danish? In my Frozen story? It's more likely than you think.