Finally, something fluffy! I know this story has been rather slowburn, so here things are starting to pick up. I just didn't want to throw them into something unrealistic, I guess, but I had fun with this chapter. So please enjoy! Review! - marth
"Your majesty?"
Elsa looked up. "Yes?"
"If you're opening trade routes with Corona, what's the point in establishing trade with the Southern Isles?"
She shrugged and lifted a brow. "Because I can?"
Hans laughed at that. The queen bit her lip in an effort to control a tiny smile, and went back to studying the charter in front of her. Two countries bordering Arendelle were bickering, and Elsa had been working feverishly to promote diplomacy. If fighting broke out, she couldn't guarantee the well being of her own people, and it was in everyone's best interest if the countries could settle without bloodshed. Between entertaining ambassadors from every neighboring country and trying to quell the fear in her subjects, teaching Hans anything remotely related to magic was pushed to the end of her list of priorities. Eventually she had simply allowed him to sit in her study with her, as long as he remained relatively quiet. It kept him out of trouble when he wasn't helping Grethe, and gave her an opportunity to learn about him.
The first days of his company had been calm and silent but for her pen and the occasional noise of frustration. Hans had roamed the study, collecting books from her shelves and answering only when spoken to. Slowly he began to interject while she was writing; his educated opinion was rather helpful, and she listened. They discussed other kingdoms, their cultures, their leaders, their histories. Being of royal birth, Hans knew more than his fair share about her neighbors. He understood diplomacy but also war, and how best to approach the simmering dignitaries.
As loathe as she was to admit it, the exiled prince had also been helping to educate her in the way of social graces. Spending years away from company hadn't helped her become very charismatic. While she had a natural nobility, it wasn't enough to make up for her inexperience in dealing with others, especially confrontational rulers. So when dignitaries visited to speak with her on her opinions on the quarreling kingdoms, Hans coached her on how to say things in a neutral way, how to win others over to her side. He could so easily mimic the emotions of others, and manipulate them into agreeing with him. The talent made her leery, but also gave her a bit of insight. Combined with what she knew about his past, Elsa felt the smallest bit of compassion for the man Hans could have been. While there was no excuse for his past actions, at least there was understanding. Understanding wasn't the same as trust, but it was close to forgiveness. Besides, worrying about a possible betrayal was pointless; should Hans turn on her, he was easy enough to dispatch.
Her royal duties could not keep her from worrying about Anna, however. She thought about her constantly, thinking again and again about the dangers that lurked on the sea and the open road. She cursed herself for not sending guards with them, or making them stay a little longer, or kissing her sister goodbye at least two more times. Sure, Kristoff was more than capable of protecting them from a petty thief, but what about a storm on the sea? Unbidden memories of parents' passing came to mind, and Elsa's anxiety began to reach new heights.
"Your majesty?"
Her head snapped up. Hans was standing directly in front of her, giving her a strange look. It almost seemed like concern.
"You've been working at that for hours now. Would you like me to fetch you some lunch?"
Her cheeks suddenly felt warm. "No, I'm alright, thank you. If you'd rather spend time with Grethe, you can make it to the kitchens by yourself, I'm sure."
The light in his eyes seemed to shift, and instead he leaned against her heavy wooden desk. "I think I'll stay here. A change in scenery is nice."
Elsa felt the creep of discomfort redden her ears; Hans was staring at her. What was he getting at? That he enjoyed spending time with her? The thought disconcerted her. "A change, yes. Let's walk." She stood, brushed imaginary lint from her gown, and made her way to the door. The question on his lips settled in his eyes instead, and he followed.
"Kai!" The portly manservant turned from the portrait he was straightening to face his queen. She tried to ignore the twinge in his cheek when he noticed Hans. "He needs some fresh clothing, something that will fit in with my people. When you're finished, show him to the kitchens, I'll meet you there." She smiled slightly as he bowed, and left Hans there. She had her own outfit to put together.
Locating a hat that covered most of her hair was a bit of a challenge, but a wide brimmed sun hat with a green ribbon was found in some closet and paired with a plain plum colored dress that fell to her ankles. She couldn't resist twirling in the mirror; keeping her anxiety in check did wonders for her mood. For a few hours, she planned to forget other countries, forget Anna, forget running a kingdom. She was Elsa of Arendelle, and it was high time she met her own country. The kitchen greeted her with laughter; Grethe and Kai relaxed against the counters as Hans gestured with his hands. She studied him from the doorway, and admired the way the new clothing suited him. A crisp white shirt, a dark blue vest, and charcoal pants that fit him like a glove; she had to admit, he was nothing short of dashing.
"I put you a lunch together, your majesty, in case you were feeling peckish later." Grethe produced a satchel nearly spilling over with food. The old cook had a suspicious look in her eye, but Elsa brushed it off and thanked her, then directed Hans to take the bag. Kai followed them to the gates, passed a small purse to the queen, and saw them off.
They had missed the morning rush, and a leisurely afternoon set their pace. Elsa took a deep breath and felt her hands tingle with cold. This was the first time she had willingly ventured into her own town since she was a child. The couple meandered through a few shop stalls, but the fear of being recognized was too strong and soon she was walking back towards the castle.
"Your majesty, let's visit the harbor. I'm sure no will take interest in us there." Hans placed a warm hand on her upper arm and turned her around. Her emotions floundered for a second, but then she was in control of herself, of her powers.
"Thank you for joining me, I needed to get out of that dusty old study," she said quietly as she wrapped a hand around his arm and allowed him to escort her.
He grinned. "Trust me, watching you slave over all that work makes me glad I didn't become king." He laughed when he noticed her scowl.
"You have an impudent tongue, Westergard. You should mind it, else you might lose it." Her threat was dire, but it was followed by a smirk. "So, what did my servants find so humorous earlier?"
Hans shrugged. "Just idle chatter between fellow staff members. I've been making progress, I can almost handle boiling water."
Before she could comment, the sound of her steps deepened and they had made it to the docks. Elsa's face widened with a breathtaking smile, she marveled at all of the ships. Imposing, grandiose, miniature worlds of their own, rocking back and forth in the fjord and almost close enough to touch. As they walked past each one, Hans explained what each vessel was good for; speedy sloops for international travel, flat bottomed barges for merchants and trading, hulking drifters for fishing that floated farther out in the bay. They stopped to admire a sailboat captained by a lively eight year old, who puffed out his chest when Hans complimented his knot tying skills. Gulls screamed overhead and the taste of salt on the air had never been so sweet.
Elsa was smiling, laughing, enjoying herself. She felt like a new person, one without the burdens of a monarchy and a curse. Even Hans seemed genuine in his actions, in how his eyes sparkled with passion for the sea, in the excitement that made him glow with quiet happiness. She found his emotions entrancing, cleansing. Gone was the man who had lied, plotted, the man who had been abused and ignored for twenty three years. Here was the man Hans could have been, could maybe still be. Her thoughts betrayed her heart, and she could feel her cheeks warm. The man Hans was had tried to murder her; the man he could be was a kindred spirit, one who understood her fears, her loneliness, her curse. The young queen tried to focus on something, anything else but the handsome man who was talking to the captain of a merchant ship. Elsa observed the fishmonger's stall just ahead, and was so deep in thought that she didn't even hear him yell her name.
Before she could react at all, a warm body crashed into hers and they both fell into the water. Panic flooded her senses as water surged into her mouth, her nose, but then she surfaced and air filled her lungs once again. Red hair and strong arms were all she could make sense of as she was dragged out of the water and pulled onto the wooden dock.
"Miss, are you alright? I'm dreadful sorry about that, are you hurt?" A deckhand from the ship in front of them helped her to her feet. Hans stood beside her, rigid as a post except for his chest that rose rapidly as he gulped fresh air.
"I'm fine, thank you," Elsa murmured as she registered what had happened; barrels unloaded from the ship had gotten loose, rolled down the gangplank and would have crushed her had she not been moved very abruptly by the sopping wet man to her side. She glanced back to the deep water; the satchel had been lost, but she was otherwise unharmed. Her ruined hat floated away, but she worried about it only briefly. Hans worried her more, he seemed to be made of stone. She waved off any more apologies from the crew, then took his arm and led him to a shady barren alley.
"Hans, that was reckless. Are you injured?" she chastised him gently. The words wanted to stick in her throat, but she knew that something was wrong with him. The heroic prince should be preening, not shell shocked.
"I felt scared." He paused, chewing the inside of his cheek. "I saw that you could be hurt, and I felt my hands burn, and I knew the only way to protect us both was the fjord." Her ears burned with his confession. He was scared about her being hurt?
She asked no more. The pair was silent as she froze the water in his clothing, then drew it out into a stream of snowflakes that soon melted. A minute more and her own clothing was dry, but she could tell Hans was still freezing. "Hans," he looked at her with trepidation, "you can use your magic to warm yourself."
"I don't think that I can, your majesty. I don't think I can control it very well right now." The exiled prince seemed fearful, like he was afraid of his own emotions. She could tell he was using every ounce of will power he had to keep his clenched fists from shaking.
Tentatively, she took one of his hands in her own and slowly relaxed his fingers until she could intertwine them with hers. Slender and pale combined with calloused and slightly tanned, and Elsa held his gaze. "You can, I won't let anything bad happen. Just think of something happier, think of something good, and don't let your fear influence your magic. You can do this, I know you can." She tried to soothe him by stroking the back of his hand with her thumb.
"Elsa, I can't."
She couldn't give up on him, she wouldn't. The young queen swallowed thickly, then pushed up onto her toes and placed a whisper of a kiss on his cheek. "Thank you for saving me, Hans." She rocked back onto her heels, and the desired effect was nearly instantaneously. His hands didn't catch flame, but instead grew scorching hot; heat radiated from him in waves. With a tug, she pulled away from him and darted around the flushed young man, muttered something about buying lunch. A few coppers later, she brought a basket of fried fish and he was warmer and calmer. They picked at the food in comfortable quiet, but Elsa wasn't very hungry. The few hundred butterflies rioting in her stomach had taken care of that.