I seriously did not expect to take so long to update. I'm sorry for the delay, I had a lot of stuff thrown at me suddenly. At least the chapter's longer than the previous few, which may make up for it, I suppose.

Thanks for all your support and patience, hopefully I'll be able to type the next chapter out soon. Enjoy!

Disclaimer: I do not own Frozen. And the cover image is from deviantart, by eminaytor. That doesn't belong to me either.

Chapter 10

Hans tossed himself onto his left side. 'Elsa, dying? How could it be?' He turned to face the ceiling. 'It's just an illness, she'll get better.' He shut his eyes tightly. 'Please, save her. Let her live.' He suddenly sat up in his bed, a frown etched onto his brows.

The thoughts were familiar to him. He was just a child then. "Let them live, spare their lives. Save them from death," he muttered softly to himself. It had been years since he last spoke those words belonging to a prayer he would say again and again. It had been the only time he felt the pain of loss and of death. It marked the start of his road of loneliness. It was the week of his parents' deaths and it had been...seventeen years ago.

He hopped out of bed immediately. It had to be a coincidence, but he needed to check to make sure. He threw on his coat and opened the door. Stealthily and quickly, he made his way around the castle. There were no guards this time, only silence as his companion.

Down the spiralling staircase he went, until he found himself facing the door to Elsa's study. It had been exactly a day since he faced that door, but the circumstances were entirely different. A day ago he didn't know what he had been looking for. A day ago he wouldn't have thought his parents' deaths had anything to do with Elsa. A day ago Elsa wasn't dying.

Throwing the doors open, he lit a candle and found the parchment at the same place he left it, underneath the pale brown folder. The words were as faded as before, but the crest of the Southern Isles was there, right at the top of the page. He held the parchment closer to the light and squinted. Slowly, he managed to decipher the first word, then the second. But his progress was slow. There was no possible way he could finish deciphering the words before sunrise.

Shaking his head, he decided it was best to give up. There was no use in trying if it would not do any good. He lifted up the folder and was about to return the parchment, when he saw another piece of paper with fresh and clearly readable ink. Curious, he picked it up and held it towards the candle. It was Elsa who wrote it, and upon reading the first few words, he realised that this was what the parchment read. Elsa had deciphered it onto another sheet of parchment, it was only him who was too foolish to have missed it.

Finally finding what he needed, Hans blew out the candle and grabbed the two pieces of parchment before hastily making his way back towards his room. He ascended the spiralling staircase and walked down the corridor when he heard a cough. It was the same cough he had heard the night before. Then, it clicked in his head. The sick occupant in the room was Elsa.

He stopped and hesitated. He wanted to see her, to check on her. He knew the consequences of being caught far outweighed the unexplainable feeling he had, but he couldn't bring himself to continue to his room.

It was a bad idea, he told himself, but he didn't care. He pushed the door open lightly and entered the room. The curtains were pulled open to let the light of the near-full moon enter. Silently, he crept towards the bed.

Elsa was there, her eyelids half-closed. Her breathing was shallow and unsteady and in her hand was a piece of cloth stained with blood. Her skin was paler than he had ever seen before, and her face was sallow and sunken.

Memories came flooding back to Hans. He had seen this before. His parents were on their beds, lying down and fighting to stay alive, just like Elsa. He saw the physician's notes lying on the nearby table and read through it without a moment's hesitation.

The symptoms were the same - uneven heartbeat, coughing blood, paleness of the skin. It seemed that the disease really was the same. But he couldn't be sure and he really hoped that it wasn't. The disease that killed his parents had no cure, and he didn't want Elsa to die in the painful way he had seen his parents die.

He looked at Elsa once again and he stifled a sob. She was his chance at seizing the throne. She couldn't die. She was the only one who believed in him, who trusted him and shared her thoughts with him. She was his friend.

No, she was more than that. She loved him, and if he was truly and sincerely honest with himself, he may just love her too.

_._._._._.

It was early morning by the time Hans was done. He had gone through the parchment in great detail, taking note of the tiny nuances. He had concluded that the parchment was a report written after the death of his parents.

But he also concluded that the disease that sent his parents to their deaths was the same one that Elsa was suffering from. He didn't know what he could do, and he was terrified.

The disease was called the 'sykdom' and as he read the medical report, he realised how deadly it really was. It was a rare disease and, according to the report, his parents were the third and fourth cases ever reported. He wouldn't be surprised if Elsa was the fifth. And the problem with such rare diseases was that there was hardly any cure.

Physicians and researchers only cared about widespread and infectious diseases, so they couldn't care less about these rare diseases which kill only a few in a century. Unless, of course, the disease struck a loved one.

Hans nearly began laughing at his forgetfulness. Perhaps it was the stress from the whole situation, or it was the fact that he had not slept the whole night, but he had completely forgotten about his family. He was not the only one devastated by his parents' deaths. His brothers were affected as well, and he had in mind Helbrede, the fourth in line for the throne. Helbrede had dreamed of being a physician since he was young and he had made a vow to find a cure for the disease which murdered his parents.

As far as Hans knew, once Helbrede passed the basic requirements to become a physician, he was deemed one of the royal healers. He was the best in all the land and he worked on the cure for the disease tirelessly. But when Hans asked about the progress he made, Helbrede just sent him away, saying that his research was no business of a 'puny runt' like him. After a while, Hans just stopped asking.

Helbrede always had a strong dislike for Hans, as did most of his brothers, so the youngest prince knew that when it came to Elsa's sickness, he could not be trusted. But Hamlin could.

Hamlin should already have reached the Southern Isles after visiting Arendelle. If Hans wrote a letter to him, he would pass on the message to Helbrede. But Hans had to be quick about it. If anyone found out that he knew something about Elsa's sickness, they would suspect him of poisoning her. And if they found out that he had been snooping around her study and secretly communicating with his brothers, he would not be so mercifully sent back home. In fact, he was certain he would be executed.

Silently and stealthily, he made his way, once again, to Elsa's study. There was no way of writing without ink and parchment, both of which there were none in his room. The sky was still dark, but he knew he didn't have much time and had to be quick if he didn't want to get caught.

He opened the door and lit a candle before making his way to the desk. He took a piece of parchment and picked up the quill before dipping it in a bottle of ink. Then, he began to write.

Dearest Hamlin,
I am writing to you about an urgent matter which must be kept under highest confidentiality. Elsa is sick. She has contracted the sykdom, the same disease which killed Father and Mother. I am unaware of Helbrede's progress in making a cure for the disease, but if there is any hope of saving the queen's life, you must send him here at once. If, however, there is no hope, then remain silent about the matter until official news spreads to the kingdom.
Do not reply to this letter. Helbrede's arrival, or lack thereof, will be answer enough. I cannot stress enough of the importance of not disclosing this information to others. Do not tell Helbrede this letter was from me. Burn this once you read it.
With love,
Your brother Hans

Hans quickly folded the letter and sealed it with the royal seal of Arendelle. He gripped it tightly in his hand, hoping that this was the solution. He hoped that Hamlin would receive the letter, he hoped that Helbrede had found the cure, but most of all, he hoped that he wasn't too late.

Holding the precious letter, he went to the main landing of the castle, to a table where royal letters were given out and received. There was a stack of letters ready to be delivered, left there by councilman after minister after advisor. Gently, he slotted his letter in after ensuring everything was in perfect order.

Just in time, because the sun's rays were slowly creeping up the horizon. Hans turned to head up the staircase when hushed voices came from above. Darting quickly and silently, he hid in the stairwell beneath the stairs.

"I'm just saying, I don't think he did it," the first voice said. Hans strained his ears to try figuring out who the voice belonged to. It definitely belonged to a male.

The sound of footsteps grew louder as the people descended the stairs. "How can you defend someome like him after everything he's done?" This voice was very distinct, and Hans knew that it was Anna who was walking down the stairs, most likely with Kristoff.

"It's not like that, Anna. I'm not defending him, I just think he didn't somehow make Elsa sick," Kristoff explained with a small sigh. It was then that Hans realised, they were talking about him, and Kristoff was standing up for him.

"How are you so sure he's innocent? He may be lying to you and manipulating you, just like he did to me, just like he did to Elsa," Anna's voice grew louder.

"Well how can you be so sure he's guilty? No matter what happens to Elsa, there's still no way you can convict someone when you have no proof," Kristoff reasoned with her, hoping she could put her emotions aside for just a moment and see things his way.

A tense silence filled the air and Hans instinctively stopped breathing, lest they could hear him inhale and exhale from his spot under the stairwell. The sound of a large boot hitting the marble floor signified the end of their journey down the stairs.

Finally, the silence was broken by a deep sigh. "Fine," Anna said. "I think we should focus on helping Elsa get better before finding who is to blame for this whole mess. Let's just go and get Pabbie. Right now, he's our only hope." With that, the two headed out the castle doors, their faces grim and full of despair.

Once Hans was sure they had gone, he stepped out of his hiding spot and hastily made his way to his room, his mind whirling with throughts. Pabbie...he had heard the name before. Elsa had mentioned the name.

She had told him the story of how she had accidentally frozen Anna as a child. The late king and queen brought them to the Valley of the Living Rock, where the king of the trolls had healed Anna. He was wise beyond ages and it was told that he wielded magic. Perhaps he would be able to save Elsa, after all. If his magic could restore Elsa to full health, it would be a miracle, especially if Helbrede hadn't found the cure for the sykdom throughout the years.

Hans found his room and opened the door, entering it silently. He shut the door behind him. It had been such a crazy night that no words could possibly describe what he was feeling. He dragged himself to his head, utterly exhausted.

Sunlight streamed in through the curtains and Hans hoped, more than anything else, that somehow by the time he woke up, Elsa would be healed and about. He imagined waking up to her sitting by his bed, smiling and telling him that everything was going to be fine.

He fell asleep before his head hit the pillow.

_._._._._.

Kristoff heaved a deep breath as he carried Pabbie onto the large chair by Elsa's bed. Being a troll, Pabbie, though small, weighed a tonne. Kristoff was the only one who could carry him from the valley to the carriage, then the carriage to Elsa's room.

It had been a challenge to convince Pabbie to leave the valley at first. Being king of the trolls, he had a responsibility to protect the trolls and was reluctant to leave. But when Anna downright begged him to see Elsa because she was dying, he finally relented.

"Queen Elsa," Pabbie greeted as he lay a hand on her forehead. It was ice-cold, despite the thin sheen of sweat on her body.

Elsa was in a delirious state, her eyelids closing and opening tiredly and her eyes looking but not seeing. Finally, her vision focused on the troll in front of her. She merely groaned in response, as a greeting.

"Is she always like this?" the troll turned, looking at Kristoff and Anna.

The younger sister shook her head. "Sometimes she can speak, but other times she is oblivious to the world even though she's awake and seeing everything. I don't think she's aware of half the things that are going on around her."

Pabbie gave her a grim look. "That much is certain, Princess Anna." The troll king returned to examining Elsa's limp and pale figure. She was shivering and burning up at the same time. The light in her once clear blue eyes were gone, and there were purple spots appearing on the base of her neck. "It is just as I feared..." He turned back to the couple. "This sickness is a very rare one, having only been a few known cases in the past few decades. It's not contagious, but it's deadly. So far, no one has survived. I'm sorry."

"But Grand-Pabbie," Kristoff spoke up, worry plain on his face. "You have magic, don't you? Can't you heal her?"

He shook his head. "I'm afraid not, my dear boy. There have been no known cures, and my magic cannot save her." Behind him, Elsa made a soft moan. Pabbie gave her an intense look, as if searching for something in her features. "Is there something you want to say, your highness?"

All eyes turned to the sick person lying down on her bed. Elsa's unseeing gaze landed on the people surrounding her. "Royal document in my study... The disease in... The Southern Isles..." Those were all she could say at that point in time as the disease overtook her entire body and sapped all her energy.

A look of understanding came over Pabbie's face. "There are only a known few who have contracted this illness and it has struck in the Southern Isles, though I'm not certain about the details. If the queen knows something that I don't which could save her, it'll be in that document." The troll turned to the duo with expectant eyes.

Kristoff stepped forward. "We'll get it, Grand-Pabbie." And with that, him and Anna hastened out of the room.

"I'll get the document. You go to Hans' room and try to see if he knows anything about it," Anna told him.

The mountain-man sighed. "Anna, I already told you, I don't think he-"

"I don't care if he did it or not. The thing is, the last known case was in the Southern Isles, which is where Hans was from. If anyone has any first-hand knowledge, it'll be him."

He nodded, a grim look on his face. Anna turned to go to Elsa's study, but Kristoff grabbed her hand. "Anna, I know you're worried, but trust me, everything's going to be alright, okay?"

The princess's worried frown only deepened. "I know," she sighed. "But what if-"

"There aren't going to be any 'what-ifs'. We're going to fix this, Elsa is going to get better, and everything will be fine." He gently lay his hand on her cheek and gazed into her worried eyes. "Okay?"

She smiled at his words, a thin and weak smile with just the tiniest bit of hope. "Thank you." She leaned in and gently kissed him on the cheek. She let go of his hands, then she left.

_._._._._.

"Alright, Hans, here's the deal," Kristoff announced as he opened the door to the room and walked in boldly. He stopped dead in his tracks. "Ugh, you're kidding me." Right in front of him was Hans, lying flat on his bed, asleep.

He gazed out of the window at the bright morning sun, high up in the sky. Kristoff stared at Hans, hoping that he could somehow wake the other up by looking intensely at him. Needless to say, his efforts were futile.

His footsteps sounded as he shuffled across the carpeted room to Hans' bed. He loomed over the prince, but there was no reaction from the sleeping man. Kristoff turned to go and tell Anna that there wasn't anything he could ask while he was asleep, when sone thing caught his eye.

There, lying on the table by his bed, was an important-looking documents. Kristoff wasn't a prince, but he would know a royal crest when he looked at one, and he was staring straight at the crest of the Southern Isles, printed right at the top of the page. His eyes travelled down the page to read it's contents, but the parchment was old and the words too faded to read.

Kristoff glanced down at the table again to see another sheet of paper, much newer than the first and with legible words. He skimmed through the contents of this sheet of paper and he frowned. He couldn't be absolutely certain, but he thought it was exactly what they were looking for, the document Elsa was referring to.

Without a moment's hesitation, he gripped the two pieces of paper tightly and ran out of the room. "Anna!" he called, running through the corridor, down the stairs and to Elsa's study.

The princess was in her sister's study, going through papers, her brows furrowed in deep concentration. "Kristoff, I can't find it. I searched everywhere, on the table, through the files and it's as if the document isn't here at all. I just-"

"I know." Anna looked up, surprise and confusion at his words. "I have it here, at least I think it is." He held out the documents for her to read. "I found it in Hans' room."

Anna's eyes narrowed in suspicion. "What were such important documents doing in his room?"

Kristoff shrugged, a small frown on his face. "More importantly, what was he doing with them?"