Author's Notes: The author will not be held accountable for readers' feels impacted in any negative way, or any metaphysical harm inflicted on said feels. You've been warned.
As always, the real author's notes and meta ramblings are posted on my tumblr, michiyoyumi.
For Calenheniel, who loves my writing even when I don't.
Hans' shouting drew no response from outside for what seemed like an eternity; no small exaggeration from a man who had spent most of his life plotting his moves and biding his time.
"Damn it all!" he swore, kicking the door in a fit of petulance. Unbidden, the memory of Anna and her recollection of the closed doors of her life came to mind. Rubbing the bridge of his nose, he felt a tiny – barely there, really – twinge of regret that he had done the same in the end.
The feeling of being shut out and unwanted wasn't foreign to him, but somehow he seemed to have more trouble coping then ever before.
Her image in his mind, Hans renewed his attack on the cell door.
He slid, exhausted; while he regathered his strength, footsteps thundered on the flagstones outside. Hans' head snapped up.
"Hey!" he shouted, leaping to his feet. "Hey! In here! Open this door!"
Muffled voices conversing. "Yeah, I know, shut up and stand back!" yelled someone in reply. The voice was distinctly feminine.
Hans blinked. "What?"
He heard more indistinct noises, and pressed his ear to the door, straining to make out the words –
Thunk.
The tip of a hatchet blade poked from the wood, not far from Hans' face – he jumped back with a startled curse. The door creaked and the hatchet was yanked away.
"What the – " The young man withdrew to a safe distance warily. The hacking continued, this time closer to the hinges of the door, accompanied by grunts of exertion. Finally, the door crashed inwards, the wood reduced to ragged chunks around the edges. Kristoff, his chest heaving from the effort, had a hatchet in each hand. Anna stood by, her arms folded across her chest, staring straight at the cell's dumbfounded occupant.
Hans' mouth went dry. "Anna..."
"We don't have time for pleasantries," she said brusquely, jerking her head in the direction of the corridor. "Let's go." Hans nodded; he knew better than to look a gift horse in the mouth. They broke into a run, Anna leading the way out of the dungeons.
"... Thanks," said Hans to Kristoff and Anna. The burly man nodded absently as he tucked his hatchets in his belt; she appeared not to have heard, her expression as aloof as her sister at her most regal.
As they took a corner, Anna skidded to a halt and smacked her forehead. "Weapons!"
The men exchanged looks. "Where will we – "
"I'm sure Sir Hyvald and his men won't mind lending some to us," said Anna cheerfully, leading them down another corridor. "This is an emergency, after all..."
"I know. The ships." Hans' face contorted. "I have to stop them before it's too late."
"We all know," said the princess pointedly. "Why'd you think we busted you out? If it was up to me, and there wasn't a convenient Southern Isles invasion, I'd have locked you up and then lose the key accidentally-on-purpose –"
Kristoff cleared his throat. "Anna, not to interrupt, but now isn't really the time for that."
"Fine, fine. We're here anyway." She made a flourish. Sir Hyvald turned out to be the grandest suit of armour in the double rows flanking the corridor; the walls were lined with mounted weaponry, representing the proud martial heritage of generations of the Arendellian royal family.
"Help yourself, it's fine as long as we return it later; Papa was always particular about the condition of the weapons, but I suppose it can't be helped," said Anna as she browsed through the weaponry. "Just try not to break anything beyond repair?"
"Sometimes you scare me," remarked Kristoff lightly. He tucked his hatchets in the back of his belt, taking and weighing a flanged mace in his hands, humming appreciatively. "Also, just saying, but I think that last thing applies more to you rather than any of us."
"... What's that supposed to mean?"
He grinned, raising both hands in a gesture of surrender. "Nothing?"
She poked him in the chest with a finger. "You're lucky I like you, Kristoffer."
In the background, Hans took a simple sword, tucking a dagger into his belt as an afterthought. He pretended not to notice the sharp looks that Anna and Kristoff suddenly shot at him, and his choice of weapon.
"Done?" Anna asked, looking as though she was seriously considering putting on some of the armour. Kristoff had quickly donned a breastplate, but declined to put on anything further. "Too heavy and I won't be able to move properly," he explained, as he tried to evade the full helm Anna was trying to jam on his head.
"Yeah," said Kristoff, Hans quickly echoing the sentiment. The princess nodded briskly. A deadly-looking rapier hung from her waist; Hans hadn't noticed it before. She saw him looking. "Mine," the princess explained, patting the leather scabbard. "My parents gave me the choice of either fencing lessons or the harp. Guess which one I picked."
"Oh. You didn't mention it at the coronation ball," he said stupidly.
She bared her teeth in a mirthless grin. "I would have told you eventually if you hadn't, oh, tried to kill me and Elsa." Anna turned her back on him. "We're wasting time. We have to go – come on, Kristoff. Elsa's down at the pier already."
Kristoff cast a last lingering glance at a large double-headed battleaxe. "Alright," he said wistfully, patting the mace hanging from his belt.
Elsa hoped she was at her most intimidating as she stood proudly at the harbour, her castle guard arrayed behind her. Each man was armed to the teeth, but they all knew that the real power lay with Arendelle's queen. Her hands were in gloves – Anna would kill her when she found out, but they went some way towards calming her nerves – and it was taking all her concentration not to cause another snowstorm.
The flagship alone sailed into the bay and dropped anchor; the other ships remained outside the fjord. A longboat bearing a diplomat's standard was dropped and rowed in.
Elsa frowned. There were three men in the boat – the only man not rowing wore the bright clothing of a herald. "What do you think, Sieg?" she asked her captain of the castle guard.
He frowned. "The herald is a good sign, Your Majesty. A general that wishes to talk doesn't want to fight. But I would be reassured if the general himself was to come."
"I hope you're right." She adjusted her left glove. This would be her first formal encounter with another kingdom, and the young queen was determined not to make it her first war.
Sieg straightened. "I will be at your side the entire time, my queen. Don't worry."
Elsa smiled at him. "Thank you."
The longboat sailed under the pier, and the herald climbed up. He had auburn hair, and for a fleeting moment, Elsa wondered if he was another one of the Southern Isles' royal brood."Greetings, Queen Elsa," said the man, sweeping her a deep bow. She acknowledged him with a nod, noting he did not mention the name of his commander.
"Where is your commander?" she asked the herald. He bowed again.
"Prince Haakon sends his greetings to Your Majesty, and requests the pleasure of your company on his flagship."
"Prince Haakon does me a disservice not to come and give his greetings in person." Elsa fixed the man with a cold look, her eyebrows raised in an expression of royal disapproval. "Also, I find it surprising he presumes to request the Queen of Arendelle herself."
"My lady." He bowed a fraction deeper, but offered no apology or explanation.
"Why does he wish to meet with me? Will he deign to explain his reasons for this display? Or does he merely want to talk about the weather?"
"The commander is here on official business on behalf of His Majesty King Eirik of the Southern Isles, and that duty warrants a suitable escort. I assure you we are not here to run roughshod over Arendelle, nor do we posture, without provocation."
Elsa took a steadying breath, wishing again her father was here to provide his guidance and wisdom. Closing her eyes briefly, she concentrated. The herald's words were blandly polite, but she could sense the faintly threatening undercurrent of his speech. He's certainly cunning and ruthless enough to be a prince of the Southern Isles, she thought. Without provocation were the key words he stressed.
"I understand," she began. "It is a pity that Prince Haakon is too caught up with his duties to spare the time to come here himself, especially since we are already acquainted."
"His Highness is deeply regretful."
"Nevertheless, in recognition of the friendship between Arendelle and the Southern Isles, I will gladly accept his invitation."
The herald bowed again, and held out his hand to her. "Your magnanimity is as great as your beauty, Queen Elsa." She accepted the slick flattery with a nod, and allowed him to lead her.
The captain of her guard stepped forward with Elsa, his brow furrowed. "My queen, is this wise?" he said in an undertone, his head bowed. "You are walking into the lion's jaws."
"I am very well aware of that, but we have no choice in this matter." Elsa smiled briefly at him. "I need to talk to Haakon. Maybe I can dissuade him from whatever he has in mind."
"It's perfectly clear what he has in mind."
"Nevertheless, I have to try." The look she wore was flinty ice. "Don't worry. I'm ready for anything they care to throw at me."
Sieg 's rigid posture relaxed a fraction. "Of course, Your Majesty. I trust you. But you cannot stop me from accompanying you."
"I would ask for nothing more."
The herald clambered into the longboat and offered a helping hand; Elsa took it and let him help her into the boat. He ushered her towards the plush velvet cushion that covered one seat. She sat down gingerly, her back ramrod-straight, unperturbed by the rocking boat. Sieg followed immediately after, along with a few of his men. The herald frowned, not missing the creak of the boat's timbers as it sank dangerously low in the water. "Perhaps one of your men should stay onshore, Your Majesty..."
She silenced him with a hard look. "I do not suppose you would begrudge me my own retinue to accompany me, given that I am the sovereign of the kingdom the Southern Isles is currently visiting?"
Ice-cold eyes met the calculatedly blank stare of the herald, and he broke eye contact a moment later. "Of course, Queen Elsa."
The smile she bestowed on him was blandly polite. "I am glad we have come to an understanding."
"Elsa!" Anna broke into a run, but the longboat was already halfway across the harbour, and out of hearing. She skidded to a halt just before the edge of the pier and frowned.
"Is there another boat we can take?" asked the princess, glancing round at the gathered soldiers. "We have to be there. Now."
"My princess, this is most irregular –" said an uncertain-looking man who stood a little off to the side. Hans noticed the livery of the castle guard, and the small difference in uniform colour and cut from the other men. Clearly he was the most senior guard after the officers that were, no doubt, accompanying Queen Elsa.
"I didn't ask you whether it's regular or not," snapped Anna. "I'm asking you to let me into whatever rowboat you've got, and take us out there." She gestured in the direction of the looming flagship.
"Uh – we, Your Highness?"
"Me and these two. You didn't think I'd go out there on my own, did you?" Her words caused a flurry of suppressed snorts among the castle guard; Princess Anna's exploits – before and immediately after the Queen's coronation – were well-known.
Kristoff drew himself up to his full height. Even though he clearly was not accustomed to other people, he was making an effort to back Anna up, and she shot him a brief grateful look. Hans, on the other hand, was not keen to have attention drawn to him because of his delicate position in the situation. The guard's eyes lingered on him for a second longer than was normal, before returning his attention to the princess.
"Captain Sieg has given his orders, Your Highness, and Queen Elsa has approved them. I'm not to let anyone approach the ships, even you, Princess Anna."
Anna took a deep breath. "… Fine," she said pleasantly.
The guard blinked, his composure evaporating in his surprise. Kristoff hid a grin.
"I – glad to have your understanding in this, Your Highness. My apologies, but I'm just doing my job."
"Of course." She spun on her heel and took off down the pier, the two men following her. Every eye was on them, even if they pretended it wasn't.
"Which boat are we taking?" asked Kristoff in an undertone, unperturbed by the events that had transpired.
"This smaller one off to the side, I know they aren't watching it," she answered. "Sven isn't coming, is he?"
"No. He'd better not. It's dangerous, and if anything happened to him…" He trailed off, but then fear flashed in his gaze. "Anna, if anything happens to you, I –"
She touched his cheek. "I'll be fine. Everything'll be fine. Elsa's there."
Hans hid his smirk. It was a politically devious way of resolving the situation; he was pleasantly surprised that Anna had come up with such a tactic. The guard would get in trouble with his commanding officer if she were to simply use her authority to force him to comply. This way, it was clearly the headstrong princess at fault for acting on her own. She had the Royal Ice Master and Deliverer as an escort, a man whose prowess in survival was well-known, and whose character was impeccable, given his recent services in ending the Winter.
Together, they were escorting and guarding the exiled prince of the Southern Isles, and attempting to stop whatever the armada had planned for Arendelle.
All this Hans kept to himself. It was clear Anna and Kristoff were not overly fond of him. Besides, he thought, he doubted they would appreciate his political assessment like Elsa did.
"This way, Your Majesty."
Elsa eyed the rope ladder, swaying gently with the motion of the ship, with no small amount of trepidation. Surely as a monarch – and a woman in a dress, for that matter – being forced to comply with such minor slights would be insulting. A quick look at her companions on the boat confirmed her thoughts; Sieg, along with her guard, looked darkly murderous, while the men of the Southern Isles were deliberately expressionless.
For once, she was glad for her powers; with a wave of her hand, she conjured an elegant spiral staircase rising from the water. It was more refined than her early attempts with her ice palace, having had the time and opportunity to experiment since then.
"Thank you," she said, enjoying the dumbfounded expressions the other men wore as she gracefully ascended the stairs. It was a very subtle jab to her authority, and the young queen was glad that she had handled it well.
Confidence swelled in her breast as she reached the top of the stairs, and Prince Haakon stood there to welcome her, offering his hand to assist her in stepping on the deck.
"That's Elsa for you," said Anna, pride in her voice.
Behind her, Kristoff and Hans worked the oars out of sync, making their progress slow and hard. The ice harvester craned his neck to see what was going on; Hans grunted in displeasure as the boat's smooth progress was disrupted.
Kristoff whistled. "Now that's ice."
She turned and grinned at him, tweaking his hat playfully. "You can admire it later. Now put your back into it." Anna nodded in Hans' direction. "You too."
He nodded, bending over the oar in his hands, hiding his smile; he was just happy to see Elsa confident in her powers – no, her magic – and herself. It was an oddly warm and comfortable feeling.
"Good day, Your Majesty."
She smiled coldly, every inch the frosty Snow Queen. "Greetings, Prince Haakon." Elsa waved her arm at the warships anchored nearby, her expression contemptuous. "What is the meaning of this?"
Haakon's eyes glittered. "The Southern Isles still has its pride, Queen Elsa. Even if one of our princes of the blood has – shall we say – less than proper conduct, he is still a scion of the House of Liljecrantz, as am I. As such, it is well within my rights and my duty to enforce my family's honour."
Elsa toyed with a cutting remark about how the founder of the Southern Isles' ruling dynasty had been a peasant-turned-general who had deposed his king and subsequently married into a noble house to secure his rule, but decided it was uncalled for.
However, she was in no mood to play games with Haakon; I've had more than enough of that with Hans, she thought with some exasperation. "You are threatening my kingdom with an armada of ships without provocation, to the best of my knowledge," said the queen bluntly. "I believe it would benefit us both to get to the point, and for you to clarify your motivations, which I confess are rather unclear to me. Not that I doubt them," she added hastily.
Haakon's eyebrows were raised a fraction. "Fine. We can do it your way, Your Majesty," said the prince, his face taking on an ugly expression. "You had no right to imprison my brother. You should have sent him back to us to be punished."
Elsa raised her chin and stared down the bridge of her nose at him haughtily – an effective tactic, despite his greater height. "Prince Hans was dispatched back to the Southern Isles not long ago, but he fled back to Arendelle to bring me news of this... movement, against Arendelle. He has been granted asylum, seeing as his claims have been proven right."
Momentary surprise flashed through Haakon's eyes, and Elsa fought to keep her face straight; clearly, he had been expecting her to deny Hans' presence. Ambitious and intelligent princeling he might be, but he was no match for a queen regnant. "So the traitor has indeed turned his back on his kin and his house, and turned his coat. He is no longer my brother."
"Then you have no right to be here." She let frost crawl over her arm, feeling every eye on the ship on her, hearing the mutterings of the enemy soldiers. "Your mission here is, as you say, a peaceful one and befitting your position as a prince of the Southern Isles. I can accept that. But now that matters have been resolved satisfactorily," Haakon's lip curled, "I think it best you and your men return to your home."
"And what if I think it has not been suitably resolved?" asked the prince.
"You know what I am capable of. Leave now in peace, and I will forget this ever happened. Force my hand, and I will bring a tempest down on your ships and freeze the blood in your men's veins."
He looked disturbingly at ease with the idea, even as the guards at his side muttered and fidgeted; frowning, he cleared his throat and they fell silent. She hated this, using her powers to threaten others, but she knew she had no choice. Elsa watched him closely, noted the way he held himself, the flicker in his eyes; the green was almost black.
Haakon's gaze lifted, and he stared back coolly. "On the contrary, Your Majesty, the Southern Isles' honour rests upon my purging of the traitor from this world." He fingered the sword hanging at his side; Elsa's men tensed. "You risk the Southern Isles' wrath if you harbour him."
"I truly regret you do not see reason, and it has come to this," said Elsa, her heart pounding in her chest. She had hoped there would be no fighting; in her heart, she couldn't bring herself to kill people, to become that monster he had tried to save her from being.
It seemed she had no choice in that regard.
The young queen steadied herself and opened her mouth to speak again –
"Queen Elsa is not at fault here."
Heads turned in sharp surprise, like ripples on water. "Who – ?" asked Haakon.
Hans stood calmly, looking as though he belonged there. Behind him stood Anna and Kristoff – Anna gave a little wave in Elsa's direction, while Kristoff had the sense to look slightly embarrassed by their intrusion.
"What?" said Elsa with some confusion.
Haakon's mask slipped a little as he quickly assessed the new development. "Traitor! You've betrayed your kingdom!"
The younger man chuckled dryly, his footsteps echoing on the deck as he walked closer. It was not crowded, but the men stepped back to give Hans a wide berth. "The only thing I've betrayed is your ambition, Haakon," he said softly, his voice carrying over the silence.
Anna and Kristoff were quick to reach Elsa's side, the auburn-haired girl squeezing her shoulder reassuringly. "It's okay, we're here."
Elsa nodded absently; she did feel much better with the presence of Kristoff and her sister, but the tension had yet to be resolved – not to mention her concern for the youngest of the Southern Isles' princes.
Haakon drew his sword; so did the men surrounding him. Elsa's men followed suit. Anna and Kristoff made to ready themselves, but were stayed by a small gesture from Elsa; tensions were running high, and one wrong move could have dire consequences.
"You have thrown in your lot with the snow sorceress – bewitched by her – magic, I presume." Haakon let the implication hang in the air. Hans didn't rise to the taunt. "With a heavy heart, I will salvage our family's honour. It's a good thing there was never anyone who really loved you, don't you think?"
Hans chuckled. "So very melodramatic. What are we, characters in a storybook?" And then the mild amusement on his face flickered and died. "Leave, Haakon. It's over, you've lost."
"You heard him," Elsa interjected, striding forward, the ice already coating her arms and shoulders by this point. She stared steadily at Haakon. The Southern Isles men murmured and shifted uneasily – but no one moved to sheathe their weapon. "My offer still stands, even as my patience wears thin. I will allow you to take your ships and leave in peace now."
"The Snow Queen hath spoken." Haakon looked bored, a sharp contrast to the nervous men at his shoulder. "Honestly, I would love nothing more. But unfortunately, we were attacked first, and were forced to retaliate."
"What?"
"It's a trap!" roared Sieg.
Soldiers streamed from below deck, swords drawn; Hans cursed. He drew his sword in a quick upward motion, narrowly parrying a blow aimed at him. Around him, things quickly descended into chaos.
"Man, am I glad Papa let me skip the ballroom dancing lessons for fencing," said Anna as she backed up, giving herself room to draw her rapier. The blade hissed out and blocked a downward slash from the nearest man. Kristoff fought nearby, confident enough in her skills not to crowd her. Unlike her precise, efficient movement, he was a veritable force of nature.
"Don't kill them!" she shouted, backhanding a soldier with the hilt of her sword and letting him tumble overboard.
"As though I don't know that," grunted Kristoff. One of his hatchets was in his left hand; apparently he was comfortable enough to wield the mace singlehandedly. The small but wicked blade cut through a spear shaft and disarmed the man. "Don't you think it's pretty stupid to use a long weapon in a restricted space?" the ice harvester said to the stunned soldier casually.
Anna was a little too preoccupied with her opponents; when the fighting had broken out, she and Kristoff had been separated from Elsa and she was anxious to return to her sister's side. Blasts of ice from somewhere to her left, however, made it less urgent. She fended off two men at once; quick, defensive blows that kept up a solid defence. Kristoff took advantage of their distraction to bludgeon them with his mace.
"Figures, a princess who fights well." He backed up against Anna, the two of them holding their own. They made a good team with her controlled and efficient moves – a sharp contrast to his wild, forceful style. "If I were to lend you my lute, I think you'd make short work of these guys."
Anna laughed. "Oh come on, couldn't you already tell from the wolves? And my punching Whats-his-face-Sideburns?" She ducked between two men, letting them collide with one another and fall onto their own comrades. "I'm a woman of many talents."
"So I see." He drew his arm back and rammed the mace into a soldier's belly, winding the man and forcing him to his knees. "But mountain climbing isn't one of them?"
She scoffed. "Excuse you, I am an excellent climber. Sure-footed as a mountain goat, that's me – duck!" Kristoff crouched, and the princess cracked the flat of her blade on the skull of an attacker. He whistled.
"Nice hit."
"Thanks. Still don't trust my judgement?"
"I'll trust you, but I still have my reservations about you and fire."
She growled – actually growled, sidestepping a burly soldier and slamming the hilt of her sword into his jaw. Kristoff glanced nervously at her.
"Maybe that goes some way towards changing your mind?" Anna asked brightly, as though the violence had never happened.
"Wow, okay – uhm, sure."
Having confronted his brother, Hans had been separated from the Arendellians in the confusion but was more than holding his own; he was glad he had picked up some street brawling skills from his time as an Arendellian sailor, supplementing his own military training in the Southern Isles' navy as a younger man. None of the thirteen princes were allowed to live as idly as their breeding suggested.
A scarred soldier lunged at him; Hans stepped back and parried. Their blades rang again and again as the man kept up his attack. The blows were easy to guard, being clumsy and uncoordinated, but it was taking all of Hans' concentration to defend himself.
Finally, he spotted an opening. The prince stepped inside the man's guard and threw a punch; it glanced off his opponent's cheek, not enough to seriously hurt him, but sufficient to throw him off. Hans pressed his advantage with a series of attacks.
The soldier stumbled backwards – and tripped over a prone body. He fell heavily, and struggled to get up.
Before he could stand up, the tip of Hans' sword was pressed to his chin.
The man glared up. Hans stared back; his wrist dipped a fraction, drawing a trickle of blood.
Ordinarily he would have dispatched the man with a quick flick of his sword, but something was staying his hand.
"The pawns' loyalty is wasted on a cruel monarch who decides his chess pieces are an affordable loss," said a voice in his head. "The pawns are protected as much as possible."
He swore. She was right, he acknowledged grudgingly. She was always right, even if I know better. Knew better.
A shadow passed over his face, and he bent down, grabbing the man by the front of his jacket and pushing him overboard. He didn't have time to watch the man struggle to the surface and swim for the nearest ship, but as he turned to rejoin the fray, he felt strangely light; that same warm feeling from earlier.
Elsa was fighting defensively, throwing up walls of ice and pushing men overboard. She had lost sight of Anna in the confusion and was fighting doggedly to get to her sister first, before she could calm down enough to think her next move through.
Luckily, the other ships were not attacking; they were too close to fire their cannons, yet far enough not to have men boarding the flagship.
"They won't attack until I say so," said Haakon, his sword drawn, moving rapidly through the jumble of men. Ice met his blade and was shattered. "They need me to eliminate the Snow Queen before they can move in. After all, who wants to be frozen to death in a heartbeat?"
Again and again, her ice was broken by his sword and Elsa was forced to step backwards. She got dangerously close to the side of the ship; her spine pressed against the hard wood of the side, forcing her to stand and fight.
"I'm not a stupid man, Queen Elsa. I know I can't win with my men and ships against your ice." He batted away another attack from her, knowing full well she wasn't aiming to kill.
She threw up ice blast after ice blast, the onslaught keeping him from attacking her directly but in no way hindering his advance. "Then why didn't you leave?" she asked, attempting to distract him further, searching for an opening. The queen was worried about Anna, but dared not take her eyes off Haakon."Why this ambush?"
"Why not? I am a desperate man. I cannot afford to return home with my tail between my legs like my dear brother."
Haakon's wrist was clipped by a blast; he swore and dropped his sword. Elsa was quick to kick the weapon away. He tried to lunge for it, but ice slammed into his torso, winding him, and pushing him away. The prince tried to break free, but razor-sharp icicles pressed into his neck. "Go on," he grunted. "Finish it."
"No." She waved her hand, and the icicles became shackles, binding him securely. "I'm no monster."
"You already are," he spat. "The witch-queen of Arendelle. Tell me, what did your parents do to earn these eldritch powers for you? Blood sacrifice? Pagan rituals?"
"My powers are a gift, a part of me." Ice crept over his chest and clenched until Haakon began to gasp for breath, eyes blank with panic. "I won't be afraid of them any longer." He struggled to keep his head up, even as his knees buckled. "Nor will I be afraid of people like you."
And then she withdrew from him; Haakon fell to his hands and knees, his shackles gone, drawing deep, shuddering breaths. "Call off your men," she hissed, "or I will."
His head whipped up, and she caught a brief glimpse of a wolfish snarl –
– and suddenly she couldn't breathe; he was too close, his hand on her throat, pressing her against the wooden railing.
"I've come too far," he choked through gritted teeth, "to be defeated like this."
"Elsa!"
She wasn't sure who had shouted. The voice was too far away; Haakon's madly blazing eyes held her spellbound, even as she struggled to loosen his grip –
His skin was red-raw from the ice burns where it showed above his clothes. She choked, trying to summon ice to get him off her but her head was spinning and it was hard to focus her thoughts while her hands were desperately clawing at him –
She clenched a fist in desperation. Rime crawled up his neck but quickly melted on the heated skin.
"If I have to go down, I'm taking you with me," he hissed into her face, the water soaking into his clothing.
Elsa's knees gave way. Their positions reversed, he bent over her, his fingers pressing into her skin. Her throat burned; her ice was no match for his fiery anger. She still couldn't breathe –
Haakon raised his free hand, and someone shouted in response. An arrow was fired into the air and the grinding of chains echoed dully all around them.
They were hauling anchor.
"No," she managed to croak, scrabbling at him. Her vision was beginning to fade. It can't end like this...
But then a single thought pierced through her scattered thoughts, and she saw her chance. In the moment his attention was elsewhere, Elsa sent sharp chips of ice at him, and he cursed, stumbling back, throwing up his hands to protect his face. She fell back, gasping for air, her chest heaving.
"You –" he started, blood running down his cheek from a gash she had opened on his face.
She had her opening.
Elsa fought the pain in her head and concentrated; frost spread from her hand, freezing the water beneath them and the entire harbour, stopping the ships. The large warships were much heavier, though; they managed to break the ice, but their progress was impeded. The wind picked up, hail and sleet pelting them as a blizzard kicked in.
Haakon cursed, and snatched something up.
"This is why we had to finish you first," stated Haakon in a chilling voice. Elsa, still weak, attempted to attack him again, but he backhanded her viciously. She slumped against the wood, momentarily dazed.
"And finish you I shall." The object in his hand was an icicle of Elsa's making, jagged and deadly. He caught her looking at it. "How appropriate, don't you agree?" He raised it above his head.
They all saw it.
Elsa!
Hans was running before he knew it. Light glinted off the beautifully crude weapon as it reached the top of its arc and hung there for what seemed like a heartbeat.
Déjà vu, thought Hans. Dashing along the ship's deck, dodging men and icy obstacles, trying desperately to reach Elsa before it's too late.
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Anna and Kristoff break into a run.
But they're too far, they'll never make it –
He lashed out at a man in his way. A wet gurgle and a thud; he didn't stop to care.
Time
slowed
to
a
crawl.
The scene was horribly familiar; Elsa, sprawled against the railing. Haakon's weapon beginning its descent. The prince's face, alight with malice, the handsome features completely transformed.
I looked like a monster.
He was almost there.
I can't let it happen again.
The blade was halfway through its deadly arc.
Elsa, I'm sorry.
Anna was screaming.
I hope you can forgive everything that was.
Elsa's arms were raised, attempting to throw up an icy shield.
And everything that is yet to come.
He saw despair in her face, slowly consuming her from within.
And everything about me.
Hans forced himself past his limit.
Elsa threw up her hands instinctively, despite some part of her mind realising it would be too late to deflect the deadly blow. In that moment, seeing her death before her eyes, her dulled senses cleared.
She heard Anna's voice, screaming her name hysterically. The cries of men, and the clash of steel. The feral eyes of her killer. His ragged breathing. The heaving of her chest. It still hurt to breathe. Her body throbbed painfully. It was cold, so cold, and the snow fell.
She saw him.
Hans...?
His momentum carried his sword into Haakon's side; the man exhaled sharply as the air was cut from his lungs. Hans felt bone and flesh give way under his hands. The wound ripped into Haakon's chest and deflected the path of the icicle, away from Elsa, into the side of the ship, where it shattered into a thousand shards of light.
Haakon didn't need to look down to know the wound was fatal, as the sword rasped out. He held Hans' gaze defiantly. Even as the feral look faded from his face, blood bubbling over slackening lips, his determination remained intact.
He began to fall. Before Hans could move, Haakon's body jerked forward; he stabbed the last remaining shard of ice in his hand into Hans' torso.
All the air left the younger prince's lungs. Blood pumped sluggishly over his clothes, and Haakon offered him a reddened grin – which vanished when Hans drove his sword through his throat.
The force of the blow threw Haakon against the side of the ship and propelled him over; his brother fell with him.
"Hans!"
At the moment of his descent, Hans had just an instant to turn, to meet her stricken eyes; Haakon's expression was still alight with hatred, his hand still clutching the front of Hans' shirt as a last act of spite.
Elsa's eyes were a tempest of emotion. In contrast, he knew his own expression was calm. He closed his eyes, fixing her face in his memory, determined for it to be the last thing he saw.
They fell.
Hans' name rang in his ears, somehow drowning out the whistling rush of air and the pain in his stomach.
I'm sorry, Elsa, he thought.
Elsa was on her feet. She was barely aware of Anna's presence, her arms wrapped around her waist; she stumbled forward and gripped the railing, looking down at the water; ripples marked where they'd fallen, quickly masked by ice floes churned up by the ships –
"Hans!"