Hans sat in a cell on a ship, then he sat in a cell on the back of a cart, then he sat in a cell in the dungeon of the castle.
So, all in all, it was not a very productive day.
"Please, have a seat," Said one of the royal advisors. Hans ignored him.
"I'm not going." He stated. Elsa glared at him from under her brows. He held back a snort. Queenie couldn't do anything to him. Nothing that hadn't already happened, anyways.
"Leave us."
Hans resisted the urge to flip her off before turning around.
"Not you, them." She growled.
"But your highness-!"
"...go."
"Yes, your majesty."
She waited until everyone had cleared out.
"I know, Hans." She said wearily, "I've read the reports."
"Then you know nothing," He growled.
"...you're afraid," She whispered.
Hans said nothing. Her hand reached towards him.
"It's okay..." Her gentle pale fingers almost graced his chin when he roughly brushed them aside.
"Leave me alone!" He hissed. The prince stormed off angrily. It didn't matter to him that he was under arrest. The only thing that matter anymore was just getting away from... them.
He shuddered.
After he left the service, a sense of relief had flooded him. The horrors of his past were so far away that nothing could compare it. Yet now here he was, forced to relive it. And for what? Duty? Honor?
Guilt?
Before he left the room, he left the young queen with a word of warning, "Whatever pieces of your sister you think are left, I would tell you this; there's no winning with these people. You don't meet them on the field of battle. You meet them in a pit. You crawl down, and you fall and fall and fall until everything is destroyed. Destroy everything, and there's no reason for them to fight anymore. Completely and utterly annihilate them, and that's how I 'won'. And it's not okay. It never was and it never will be."
Hans left.
The queen's jaw clenched. She'd tried to be nice. She'd tried to show sympathy. No more Mr. Nice Queen.
Mrs. Nice Queen. Miss Nice Queen. Whatever.
