I have been having quite a few questions about weather this story is 'Helsa' or not, so far I have given only dicey answers, but, if anyone is still unsure, let me assure you that it is!

I have done a few changes to the character choices, you can see them in the plot summary, and there Hans and Elsas' names are now put together. I was a little unsure how this worked at first, but thanks to looking at some other peoples' ones I now have it straight.

Also I have changed the genre of 'friendship' to 'romance' to better suite the story.

Hope you enjoy and thank for all the support!

Chapter Ten: Kristoff Serves Dinner

'Dinner anyone?' asks Anna, her voice desultory.

Kristoff looks up from where he has been sitting, with his arms wrapped about his legs,' is there any?' he asks.

Anna moves up to be beside him, putting her arm around his shoulders,' we can cook up something,' she says brightly.

He moves his arm to grip her small hand.' I can cook a little,' he says, attempting to take after her optimism.' Can any of you?'

I honestly shake my head and Haydn does the same. I glance over my shoulder, but Hans is still asleep, his red hair lying across the purple, lace pillow, his face pale and with drops of feverishness sweat on his brow.

'Maybe you two can cook something,' I say to Anna and Kristoff, while rising to my feet and moving over to the sleigh.

'I can help if you need anything collected,' volunteers Olaf.

'No one leaves the dome alone!' answers Kristoff at once.

'Maybe he can cut mushrooms,' I say taking out a small cloth from my bag. I wet it with snow and then, leaving the others to discuss the dinner, I move over to Hans and sitting down beside him wipe some of the sweat from his face.

He stirs and the green eyes blink slightly.' Hello,' he says, in a distant, sleepy voice.

'Hi,' I say, giving him an oh so faint smile,' how do you feel?'

'Dizzy, hot,' he says,' the wet cloth is very soothing, thank you.'

'That's okay,' I reach out and touch his forehead,' you're still burning,' I say.

'Your hand is like ice,' he responds.

'No surprise there, it's inbuilt in me.'

He takes a deep breath, still shuddering as though he were cold.

'Does breathing hurt?' I ask.

'The air is so cold,' he says,' it's nice, but somehow seems to burn my lungs.'

'Well Kristoff and Anna are fixing up some dinner and hopefully that'll do it's share of good for you.'

He swallows with that tight look of his, which says, very clearly, that the last thing he wants to do is eat dinner.

'You can't let yourself starve,' I say coolly, noting the look.

'I can't choke down dinner either,' he responds.

'You can and will, even if I have to resort to force, you chose to come with Prince Hans and you will accommodate, you're more of a burden is this state than an asset. Oh I know, if it wasn't for you it'd have been Anna, but that doesn't mean you can let yourself waste away to nothing.'

'One dinner,' he says,' it's not that extreme.'

'It all starts with one.'

'Can Kristoff even cook?' he asks,' why is Bulda not making dinner tonight?'

'We lost Bulda,' I say bluntly,' literally, she has vanished, like her family, into thin air. That is why I need you well, I need your help and you aren't much good in this state of fever.'

'Lost,' he echoes,' you... has there been no sign of her?'

I see something in his face that I don't understand, a mingling hint of hesitation and fear, a secret buried behind the green eyes.

'No sign,' I say urgently,' is something on your mind, do you have some idea where she is?'

But he only shakes his head,' no idea,' he says,' honestly, I'm as lost as you.'

We fall silent, he lets his eyelids shut and I continue to wipe his hot forehead. Eventually, feeling the silence has grown to awkward I say,' you can't cook at all can you? Like mix up a stew or something?'

That makes him open his eyes and give a choked laugh, that sounds a bit like it is hurting his chest,' certainly not,' he said,' I'm afraid they don't teach princes the classic "how to care for yourself if you are out in the wild" economics.'

'Nor princesses,' I say,' Anna has been taking a crash course and we must hope that between that and Kritsoff's self sufficiency we will have a decent meal.'

'It's not much to hope on,' he says,' but since it's not Haydn we can hold out hope.'

'Are his meals that bad?'

'He has never made one, categorically. I at least tried once, not that that it went well, Sitron wouldn't even eat it.'

'When did you ever cook a meal?' I ask, amused at this imagine.

'Mama set me at is once when I was in my mid teens, I think she was hoping I'd have a gift somewhere for something.'

'I'm taking it you found your gifts elsewhere?'

'I'm not sure I found them, but they certainly didn't reside in the kitchen.'

'Come, there must be things you are good at.'

'I'd have thought you'd be the first one to tell me my one and only gift was the ability to deceive.'

'I'll steer clear of barbed comments in that direction, I've done too much of it myself. Besides that's a fault, not a gift. So, what are your gifts?'

'My sword play is not bad.'

'You are a military officer, right?'

'Was, and it was a naval officer.'

'Any hope you'll be going back to it when you are done serving your sentence? Whatever that sentence is now we come to it.'

'No hope, because my sentence is never going to end.'

'Never?' I repeat, confused and creasing my brow,' what do you mean?'

'Well it was never fixed, I don't know how long I have to serve. Papa wasn't bothered to make a time and I suppose he sees that I am less of a bother chained in a cell than anywhere else.'

'But what about your time in the mines?'

'Half the prisoners were going, one of my brothers thought it was... er, funny to get my name on the list so I winded up going with. They only sent me back because they thought I couldn't handle it and was going crazy.'

'That doesn't seem right,' I say,' you should have had a sentence, was there no trial?'

'None, I waited in prison to know what they would do, then went to the mines, then came back and waited again.'

'How did you get to come here?'

'Enlisted Haydn, I heard he was going to the princesses wedding and asked him to take a note to you. With your permission behind me Papa didn't mind if I came briefly to Arendelle, he knew my purpose in doing so and had nothing to say against my attempting to smooth over the past.'

'But... surely, Hans he is your father!'

'There are enough of us claiming that title, he has time for the first five.'

'So what will happen when we are done here and you return to the Souther Isles?'

'I expect I will get a cell and maybe a trip out occasionally if my brothers play some more pranks.'

'Surely some of your other brothers would speak for you?'

'Haydn.'

'Come on, there must be someone else among them who is nice? There are so many of you.'

'Haydn is the only good one among us, there is nothing to be said for the remainder.'

'And your mother?'

The sound of his laugh cuts like a knife, it's hard and so full of pain,' she is probably throwing a party,' he says.

I take his hand before I can think better,' I want to know your story,' I say,' maybe if I did, I could help you, get you some justice.'

'I would rather avoid justice thank you, it's cruel.'

'Compassionate and fair justice, you can't serve without trial, without sentence, without hope.'

'What could I possibly tell you to help with that?'

'I want to know your history, I want to know what made you the man who I saw on the fjord that day, because he has changed and I want to know how he became like that at first.'

'I don't think I want to tell that story,' he says, pulling his hand away, his face cold,' it's not something I enjoy, I don't know why I have said so much already.'

'Dinner is up!' calls Anna at this moment.

'Bring it over,' I call to her,' then Hans won't have to get up, cause you are eating,' I add to him, my voice returning to his cold tone.

Kristoff brings the supper pot, hot from the fire and sets it down on a plank of logs,' right,' he says,' I made the most I could of what we had, which was next to nothing, so I had to improvise... just eat and try and enjoy.'

Olaf comes round and pokes his head in the pot, only to retrieve it in a matter of seconds,' that stinks something horrible!' he exclaims.

'No it does not!' snaps Anna, coming to the immediate defence of her husband.

Kristoff looks disheartened,' maybe we should just chuck it out and eat apples,' he says.

'No,' I say, laying a hand on his arm,' we want to save those for the road, this will be perfect,' but I make a distinct point of breathing through my mouth, if it does smell so bad I don't want to know about it.

'Well then,' says Haydn, planting a look of content on his face,' let's eat.'

It's not long before all is ready, the soup shared fairly into seven bowls. Sven is eating his carrots, which exercise is being watched by Olaf with loving eyes, even though his stomach normally twists at the idea of munching on a carrot.

Everyone seems to be watching the others, apparently hoping somebody else will try the dish first, giving themselves some idea what they are in for. Anna glances round and then takes a heaping spoonful and eats it. Her expression remains amazingly the same and with a smile, directed at her husband, she goes on eating.

I look down at the content of the bowl and move my wooden spoon in it. The stuff is thick and sloppy, with fat lumps of mushroom and some kind of leaf bobbing in it, while herbs strangle amidst the mixture like long tangled seaweed. I take an uncertain sniff, it smells horribly of algy, like a disused fish pond. I glance round. Haydn and Hans both look as uncertain as I feel, while Olaf is pouting at his untouched dish. Kristoff and Anna are both eating, while talking in low voices and Sitron has all but finished.

Calculating that if Sitron can eat it, (and he is the picky one that wouldn't eat food, which no matter how badly prepared, came out of a palace kitchen) then it can't be too bad, I breath through my mouth and take a small spoonful, which I sip at. Suffice it to say that it tastes like it looks. I swallow hard, it's sustenance after all and we don't have food enough to be fussy. But wow, Bulda must have been some cook to make anything tasty out of the all this rubbish.

I feel three sets of eyes on me and look up to see questioning looks from those who haven't tried the dish. It's a relief to see that Kristoff is not watching us, he and Anna (who is handling the matter like a darling) are far to involved in their private conversation.

'Aren't you boys going to eat?' I ask.

Olaf's curiosity just can't hold out any longer and he takes a gulp of soup. It has scarcely gone in before it flies out with a vengeance.' Please!' he moans,' it's too cruel! I can't eat that!'

Kristoff does look round now and I see him sigh slightly,' have an apple,' he says.

Olaf brightens, but I dampen him,' you will eat what you have been given!'

'I'm still sick!' wails Olaf, attempting a sneeze that won't come.

'It won't hurt you,' I say coldly and to prove my point I take another delicate sip. That's two down.

Olaf stares into the bowl and droops like a child over it. I can't help it, I take pity. He is only two years old after all,' eat half of that,' I say,' and you can have an apple for the rest.'

He perks slightly and looks at the bowl as if it were a mission, which doesn't really make the food go down, but helps with his attitude. Anna kindly diverts her husband's attention to give the rest of us a chance to eat without hurting his feelings. Really I have no idea how she is doing so well seeing she has to find the food as bad as I do. Love does truly wonderful things.

I have managed down two more rapid spoonfuls by the time Haydn takes a breath and then a bite. His face is almost enough to make eating the food worth well. It has so much the expression of one who thinks that what he is eating is disgusting, but is determined to be a gentleman about it. I have to admit to be rather impressed by his behaver, which is undoubtedly good.

From him I glance to Hans. He is sitting with the bowl on his knee, staring into it with the air of one who is going to be sick.

'Come on Prince Hans,' I say to him,' surely you are used to all kinds of food in the prisons.'

'Before today I thought I was,' he says,' but this,' with a look of loathing at the bowl,' is rather something new, how is it Haydn?'

But Haydn is working much too hard on keeping his dinner down to be able to respond and only gives a feeble smile.

'It's sustaining,' I say helpfully,' I told you, you have to eat.'

'I'm really not hungry,' says Hans,' seriously, not if you offer me delicacies.'

'Well you aren't being offered any such thing,' I say, my tone annoyed for now my mind has wondered on to delicious rolls of ham and slices of bacon, freshly fried and smelling like a palace's, morning breakfast.' You are going to be a burden if you don't eat,' I tell Hans, seeing this as the final way of persuasion before I have to block his nose and force the soup down.

It is rather effective, for he relents and dipping in his soup eats a mouthful. His face more or less reflects what I was thinking, only the final reaction is more violent. He takes the bowl up and begins to eat as if his life depends on it. Haydn and I exchange a look and then both turn to our own dinner, thought eating with less of a vengeance.

In consequence of his rapidity Hans is the first done and he flops back against the pillow, looking like is going to be violently sick, from the combined forces of dizziness and a less than edible dinner.

I swallow down the remainder of my soup in a rush, that leaves me with the feeling that I have a lump in my throat. Haydn, finishing much the same time as I, takes my bowl, saying he'll wash up.

'In snow?' I ask, with a slight tease.

'Why not? It's that or dirty bowls,' he says and heads off to fetch the other dishes.

Olaf gives the remainder of his dinner, which certainly looks to me like more than half, to Sitron and hurries off for his promised apple. I move back to Hans, who is lying with his eyes very tight shut and his expression rather tense.

'Not feeling good?' I ask.

'That dinner was disgusting!' he says with emphases.

'Quite,' I say coldly,' you might try being a little more polite.'

He only groans and snaps back,' right after I stop feeling like I'm going to be sick!'

'Get your mind on something else,' I say,' I still wanted to know your history.'

'That's not going to make me feel better,' he says opening his eyes.

'Do you want my help when we are done here?' I ask,' or do you want to go back to your cell, with a limitless sentence?'

Hans sighs slightly, apparently seeing some sense in this,' get comfortable,' he says,' I'll try make this as brief as I can, but it could take a while.'

I make a pillow of snow on the ground and settle myself on it.' I've got time, we needn't get sleep for more than two hours yet and we aren't moving on today.'

More to come!

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