Kristoff had no idea what time it was when he ran downstairs so quickly he thought he might topple over his own two pear-shaped feet. The castle was dead silent as he wound his way around the creaky lower hallways and into the kitchen.

He was surprised to find a glowing ball of light radiating from the other side of the room. The fireplace was lit, usually meant to keep the kitchen staff warm during the harsh Arendelle winters, but there wasn't a cook or servant in sight. Just a lonely queen covered in a knitted blanket, leaning back in a motionless rocking chair with her eyes fixed on nothing in particular.

As odd as it was to see Elsa deep in transient thought, and apparently lost in the flickering flames of the burning logs, he had more important things to tend to.

She didn't turn around once to see what all the racket was about as Kristoff tore open cupboard after cupboard on a hunt for lord knows what.

"Have you seen the liquor? Kristian's teething." He grunted in frustration.

Elsa didn't reply and simply held up a brown bottle that had been sitting beside her in her limp little hand and hiccupped daintily.

"Why haven't you asked me what I'm doing down here yet?" She slurred in a way that made Kristoff question whether she was insanely exhausted or simply had one too many sips of the amber liquid sloshing around in the bottle. He guessed the latter.

"I figure if you wanted to tell me, you would have by now. You're not a woman who waits for permission to speak." Well that was certainly true.

"Anna told you, didn't she?" Elsa surmised and raised her brows to him, one awkwardly higher than the other, as Kristoff grabbed the bottle by its thin neck and set it on the countertop.

"Yeah. Don't be mad," holding up his brawny hands defensively, but Elsa just rolled her head from one side to the other, like the weight of it was too much to handle, and chuckled to herself.

"I'm not mad. I expected her to. She does it because she cares." A grin laced with sadness stretched across her face, flames sparkling in her blown-out pupils. It was funny how not even alcohol couldn't mend her wounds at this point.

"She cares about you a lot," Kristoff added.

"No, it's not just me. I mean you too. She tells you because she cares about you. She confides in you. It's good," lazily giving a raise of her shoulder. It's what Elsa wished she had herself, but she was still always overjoyed that Kristoff was a huge source of support for her sister. There were some things husbands provided that sisters, no matter how much they loved each other, could not.

"So Hans, huh?" Nervously clearing his throat as he leaned against the counter and ran his fingers over the lip of the edge, the savory aroma of mutton and vegetables from that night's dinner still wafting in the air. "I would have never guessed that."

"Based on the coronation?" She asked without taking a pause.

"Well, yeah."

She was so placidly calm for talking about such a difficult topic, but alcohol tended to blunt one's emotions that way. He assumed that was her sole purpose for even being down there.

"Well I would have never guessed all that would have happened based on what I knew. Who I knew," trailing off at the end.

Her eyes languidly shifted back to the fireplace, letting the unpredictable pattern of the flames capture her attention, taking it off the bewildering account of the past six years of mysteries and lies she'd heard earlier from Hans.

"I stay out of Anna and Hans'... um... past." Kristoff went on, despite not knowing what the heck to call what transpired between those two. "I don't know much about him. I don't trust him either, but I trust you, and you must be very conflicted."

She shifted back towards her brother-in-law and tried to keep her eyes focused on his mop of sandy blonde hair. "That's quite the understatement; and yet, it's extremely accurate."

Kristoff glanced curiously down at the bottle. She hadn't consumed that much, but at Elsa's weight, it didn't take much to get that head change she'd been chasing.

"In my three years of knowing you, I've never seen you drink hard liquor." Though on this occasion, he couldn't blame her.

A guilty smile stretched across her face, cheeks warm with inebriation and the constant lick of the fire on her fair skin. "Let's just say it soothes more than aching gums."

Kristoff grabbed the bottle of aquavit and started to head out of the kitchen. "Just don't go swinging around any clock towers or anything," he jested. A thing they did as part of their quasi brother-sister relationship.

"I wasn't drunk, I was sick that time," she insisted and straightened in her chair, back aligning like the queen that she was. "And I'm not drunk now." The slurring of her words begged to differ, and whether Elsa had been sick or not two years ago, her fever-induced delirium had those who witnessed it talking for weeks.

"Elsa, you don't have to explain yourself to me." He flashed her a comforting smile, making sure he left her in good spirits, and held the bottle up as if to toast her invisible glass. "Goodnight."

She could hear Kristian wailing from all the way down in the kitchen as Kristoff headed out. "Good luck."

"You too."

The waters of the fjord were a brilliant aquamarine as the afternoon light sparkled across the harbor. Hans' eyes kept drifting out to the expansive view from his seat in the council chambers, and he didn't have to look over his shoulder to know that Elsa's studious eyes were watching his every move like a hawk observing the landscape.

It was a simple meeting to talk about the navy's progress and how well Hans was whipping their men into shape. Captain after captain raved about his exceptional skills and unparalleled knowledge of the sea. But it struck Elsa funny how Hans didn't seem to pay any attention to their praises. A smile played across his lips, eyes still glancing out to the bobbing ships along the docks, and Elsa surprisingly found herself happily smiling along with him. She was at least half listening to her men, only because their words painted a picture of this interesting new Hans she was extremely intrigued by. Admiral Westergard left such a delightful ring in her ears and a reverberating zing in her chest each time someone mentioned his name as she subconsciously catalogued every new expression and quirk of his features.

The meeting was adjourned, and Elsa was the last to leave as everyone hurried down the stairs and spilled out into the courtyard to enjoy the break for lunch. Hans straggled behind, having nowhere to be, and was surprised to feel the tap of slender fingers on his epaulette.

"Take a walk with me?" Elsa's kind voice offered. Her smile was light and rosy, a complete change from the crestfallen woman he'd seen just a few days ago in the library.

"Sure," glad to see that characteristic twinkle had returned to her eyes.

Elsa turned slightly and coyly tilted her head towards the French doors leading out to the garden, gleaming as if she had a secret behind those blushing cheeks, and Hans happily followed her to the place he'd been dying to revisit since he returned to Arendelle.

They strolled along the winding stone pathway, boots and ice heels clicking along under the blossoming wisteria dripping from overhead as their eyes repeatedly caught and darted away from each other.

"I didn't know if you'd be speaking to me again after the other day," breaking the silence, even though Hans was very much enjoying their little eye-glance game.

Smells of fragrant wild flowers filled her head as Elsa took in a drawn-out breath, relief and serenity apparent in her long sigh. "I can't live with this sadness and anger in my heart anymore. I think it's healing to at least be amicable."

"I couldn't agree more." They rounded a familiar break in the walkway, and Hans' eyes lit up at what he saw close by. "Let's go right, through here," he pointed and led her by the hand to a shady spot underneath the largest willow in the garden. "You remember this spot?" Hans asked as they held hands and admired the lushness of the canopy above, fragments of sunshine breaking through the layers of leaves to make their faces look luminous in the afternoon light.

"You always ask me as if I've forgotten that you kissed me here." Her chin dipped demurely as her shyness got the best of her. "I can never forget." Fanning lashes blinked up at him with the same sky blue eyes that had bewitched him over eleven years ago. Hans remembered that sweet little kiss as if it were yesterday.

"We were just children," he began.

"With the whole world at our feet. Nothing but dreams of the future," Elsa added to his narrative. The sounds of two giggling children could still be heard echoing through the weeping willows, as if no time had passed since their first meeting. A childhood innocence that would eventually become victim to plans of another. "How tragic are we?" She lamented. "To have had things aligned so wonderfully? Only to lose each other in such an awful way."

"Not lost. I'm here." The gentle caress of Hans' hand on her cheek was the solace Elsa had been craving. It made her eyes flutter closed as she surrendered to the haven of his gentle touch. Hans smiled and felt the warmth of the sun slipping over the stone wall and onto his back. It illuminated Elsa's hair and face so that she looked more angelic than ever. The moment enraptured them both, possessing them with a need to rewrite the moments that had been snared by tragedy. A thirst to breathe life into the once forbidden possibilities and make them a reality again. "I don't know how it's possible... but I love you more now than any of the other times I've stood before you like this."

That tempting, debonair voice of his called to her, the part of her that acted before thinking. Elsa leaned in and tilted her head, raising and lowering her lips to his as if she couldn't make up her mind what to do with them.

"Stop thinking," Hans whispered. "Sometimes your mind gets in the way of your heart."

I'm sad that I have to leave tomorrow. I wish I could stay here with you.

Someday. I'm told we are to be married. Then we'll see each other every day.

There were certain memories Elsa had of her childhood, of the good times. Games she and Anna played together. Stories her father told her while she sat on his knee. Warm, comforting memories that instantly made her yearn for the simpler days of her youth. And Hans was one of those wonderful memories. No matter what he'd done in the past, he was forever entwined into the fabric of her childhood. Forever a part of her.

Trepidation slipped away like the remains of the day, dissipating and melting that barrier that had previously been built up between them. Hans cupped her other cheek, and Elsa parted her lips once she felt him capture them in a tender kiss that pulled on every heartstring in her slender body.

It was magic and healing. Starlight unexpectedly bursting out of every pore of her skin, exalted in the nostalgia of childhood and the bliss of the present, with a man, the same man, who had been the only one who could make her feel like a comet streaking across the sky, on fire and weightless with euphoria.

Hans dropped his hand from her cheek and rested it against her arm, petting her affectionately with happiness swimming in his brilliant green eyes.

Their lips didn't travel too far apart before Elsa decided to tuck her fingers under his lapels and reseal them, opening her mouth slightly more to allow the kiss to become what she'd been dying to feel for the last six years. Elsa always reached a point where doing what she should do conflicted with what she wanted to do. Because right then, she wanted to kiss Hans more than anything else in the world.

His lips were warm and soft, but purposeful like a man's should be. He hugged her lips to his, pulling her body along with the force as she let herself melt into his chest.

Anna watched curiously from the library above. She'd seen her sister kiss men before, including Henrik, and it had never been like this. Elsa had been swept away, dancing on a cloud floating amongst the sun's bright rays. They touched each other with such love, tender and heartfelt. It really was a true love's kiss. She could see that now.

There was no denying it; Elsa loved Hans in a way she would never love another. An unbreakable love that filled her heart and made her truly happy. Anna loved Kristoff, but the only time they kissed quite like that was when they were making love. Judging by the way Hans and Elsa were kissing each other, love-making didn't look too far off.

The bell in the clock tower chimed at the stroke of noon, jolting Elsa back into the endless schedule that awaited her. "I-I have a meeting I have to get to. A lunch, actually. I'm sorry," touching her fingers to her lips as she cautiously stepped away. A curious tingle resonated on them, lingering satisfaction she could still taste. "I'm so sorry."

Hans nodded nobly and dipped into a bow, the same way he always had his entire life. "I'll see you later then, my queen."

He'd never called her that, but she adored it. Especially when he used that deep sultry voice that sent her reeling.

Elsa glanced back at him over her shoulder no more than three times before she finally disappeared back inside the castle. Leaving him love struck to the point where he couldn't stop smiling no matter how hard he tried to conceal his merriment. Though the splendor of the kiss had been amazing, he knew better than to let himself get too worked up over it. Even though Elsa appeared ready to pick up where they left off, she was far from it with so many loose ends yet to tie off.

Back inside, brisk footsteps could be heard trotting towards Elsa as she looked up to find Anna with an oddly wide smile on her face and vigor in her fervent stride.

"Elsa!" She chirped brightly. "Did Henrik come home early?" Knowing full well the answer to her question.

"No. He's not due back for another week or so."

"Oh," Anna replied, chipper tone plummeting back to Earth. "Because I just saw you kissing someone in the garden." Her freckled face lost its jovial flare, practically scowling at her older sister. "When I asked if there was something going on between you and Hans, you said no, but there was. The past between you two is difficult enough to swallow, but clearly something is currently going on." Elsa was petrified wood in her own castle, mind racing as she felt the burn of Anna's glare on her. "Are there any more secrets you want to tell me?" Crossing her arms over her chest with contempt in her fiery gaze.

"Anna, when I said nothing was going on, I meant it at the time. I saved Hans from the fall, but I only kissed him just now. And I'm already berating myself for being so impulsive and betraying my morals."

"You mean betraying Henrik," Anna corrected with more sarcasm that she should have.

The truth sank to the bottom of Elsa's stomach faster than a boulder, making her almost lurch with self-loathing. "Yes."

"Elsa, I don't know what's happening to you."

"I don't know what's happening to me. I just meant to take a walk with him and-"

"And you fell onto his lips?"

"No," Elsa retorted sternly. Austere older sister surfacing like a storm cloud. "I kissed him because I wanted to. Because I've been wanting to for six years, Anna. You don't understand. That spot that we were in. Hans kissed me there when I was seven-years-old. Do you have any idea how special of a memory that is to me? How easily my head and heart could succumb to needing to feel that again?" Her hands had flown to cover her heart, passion in harmony with her desperate tone. "I talked to Hans about the coronation, and I had everything wrong. There's so much more to the story than we ever knew. He was forced to break off the betrothal with me because of my powers. And his father beat him into submission to kill me out of fear."

"That doesn't excuse everything, Elsa." Anna countered, putting her sister on the defense. A position Elsa didn't exactly appreciate.

"I know it doesn't," softening her icy gaze in a more conciliatory manner. "Anna, my entire life has been devoted to protecting you. I care about you and Kristian more than anything else in the world. I know how lonely you were after the accident when I struck you in the head. I know I let you grieve our parents' death by yourself. But I was on the other side of that door suffering too. We've never really talked about this. Not really. But not only was I also lonely and grieving in isolation, but I also had to contend with the fear of my powers. The panic attacks. The sadness. I didn't even get to hug Mama and Papa before they died. I didn't get to hug them for the six years before that either!" She almost lost control with that, dress boarding on navy as she swallowed back the most devastating loss of her young life. "I don't know happiness like you do. I'm trying to find it. Please, please don't judge me for the mistakes I make along the way. I'm human, just like everyone else. And I love you, and I would never, ever do anything to intentionally hurt you. But I can't help the way I feel for Hans." Elsa regained her composure, but Anna's anguished expression hadn't changed. "You're the one who said that I deserved love," she reminded gently.

"And you do. I just think you're weaving yourself a web that you're going to have a difficult time getting out of."

Night fell over the kingdom as the street lamps of the village were extinguished for the evening. Hans had retired to his room and was undressing for bed. He unbuttoned his shirt and folded it over a chair before going over to a mirror that hung above a small dresser. The sun was getting the best of him these days. His hair was getting lighter thanks to the long summer hours on deck. Cooper streaks with hints of gold now covered his head, a look he kind of liked. Cheeks tinged with pink reminded him just how fair his skin really was. Never as light as Elsa's but unable to withstand the rays any better than she.

His fingers smoothed over the stubble growing in on his face, making a mental note to shave in the morning, when there was a small knock at the door.

In nothing but his breeches, Hans scurried to grab his shirt. "Just a minute," he called to the mystery guest who was already turning the knob.

It was Elsa, in her simple blue nightgown with her hair unbraided, curtain of platinum swaying behind her. Hans tried to cover himself in a chivalrous attempt to appear descent, but Elsa wasn't bothered by his lack of clothing one bit. She was more focused on other things.

"I'm sorry. You caught me as I was getting ready for bed," Hans chuckled out of embarrassment but stopped when he saw a melancholic gleam in her morose blue eyes. She didn't say anything and kept quietly padding across the floor and closer to him, face seeming like it was holding back a mosaic of emotions.

The candlelight of the room flickered in her eyes as she reached for his hand and tenderly brought it to her cheek. Her eyes lidded shut with her lip jutted out slightly, nuzzling against the comfort of his palm.

She didn't need to say anything because Hans could always guess what was troubling her. The weight of a kingdom on her tiny shoulders had to be taxing. But not as much as the scars of childhood or the burn of love lost still looming in her heart.

Hate, pain, remorse, guilt, and even affection occupied her thoughts. All fighting for her attention, but only one rising to the surface. Hans was not entirely at fault for what had happened. Elsa was well aware of that. But he had hurt her a few times of his own volition. He'd partially caused the never-ending rain that had cast a gray shadow over their relationship, and he was the only one who could repair the ache throbbing so heavily in her chest.

"Elsa," he whispered sweetly, remorse flowing through his soothing tone and swaddling her in his love. He wanted to add "sweetheart" or "dearest" or "love" to the end of her name but resisted.

He cradled the side of her neck, just below her ear, and caressed her silky white skin with his thumb. Her eyes still hadn't reopened, just savoring the magic of his touch, as if it was the healing force she'd been thirsting for.

"Come here," Hans said and scooped her up into his arms, setting her down on his lap as he rested in a nearby chair.

Elsa curled up to him, arms looping around his neck, as Hans hugged his own around her back. "It's okay," he hushed. "It's okay." His hand stroked over the reams of silken gold locks, his own heart skipping to the rhythm of her soft breathing against his bare chest.

It was so achingly adorable and sad at the same time. Elsa just wanted to be held. It had been so lonely up in her bed all by herself. Every time she tried to process her feelings, she felt like they were going to eat her alive. For she was torn, involved in a tug-of-war of the heart that needed so much healing.

Elsa was always the woman everyone turned to. She was the queen, sovereign mother to her people. She was an older sister, the protector and voice of reason in Anna's life. Even with Henrik, she was always a royal. Not really much of herself. With Hans, she was just Elsa. No titles. No obligations. She owed him nothing but still yearned for everything from him, even after all these years.

It was a dangerous feeling now, but she trusted him enough to allow herself to need him, for just a cuddle if nothing else. They both craved each other's company.

Hans kissed the feathery baby hairs along Elsa's temple. The sting of icy hands nipped at his neck, but after such a hot day, they felt amazingly refreshing.

He smelt like the ocean. Wisps of salt and sun mixed with sweat, like a masculine sheen of armor coating his skin. The broadness of his chest enveloped her, swallowing her in his hold. He was warm against her cheek, and although they were touching skin to skin, it was intimate but not sexual. This was part of the journey they would face on the road to repair. Healing and moving forward, one day at a time.

A thought struck Hans that if he died now, he would go completely satisfied. To have Elsa in his arms again was something he never thought he'd experience. It was better than a kiss because he was her sanctuary. After being the villain in a tragic tale that had cut them both so deeply, he got to be her safety if only for a little while.

Eventually she drifted off to sleep on his chest, neither having wanted to move. Hans placed her on his bed for just a moment while he dressed himself because carrying a sleeping queen through the castle with nothing more than breeches on would have required more explaining than he wanted to do.

Fully dressed, Hans quietly made his way up the giant spiral staircase and down the rich scarlet hallways to Elsa's room, after a few guesses as to where it was. He searched the halls for the tall white door with the blue rosemaling. She'd once told him about it in a letter. Safe and sound in the queen's bedchambers, he pulled back the covers and tucked her in with the greatest of care, kissing her gently on the forehead before he wished her goodnight.

When he shut the door, one thing was crystal clear. He'd never be able to stop loving her. And he suspected a part of her might never be able to stop loving him either. The past had been the platform and foundation for their initial feelings upon his return. But they were now growing more fond of who'd they'd become in their time since the coronation. How they would ever be able to turn what they had into something more was beyond him. With patience and diligence, he knew he'd never stop chasing for what could be.