Notes 1: I thought I'd give editing a rest since it was close to 1 AM but now it's 5:30 AM and I'm still wide awake. So proofread is non-existent.
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white knight syndrome
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x
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She opens her door to him.
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Finding her slipper-clad feet thundering down her stairs, Elsa resists the urge crawling up her throat, the one telling her to yell at her boss's face. Elsa throws the front door open with a great force; like a raging blizzard is pushing behind the damn thing. The warm Summer night air hits her as soon as she steps out. She pays no mind to the heat, she's too busy glaring icily at the bright red car and its owner.
For a moment, she wishes it was a dream until she blinks and realises it's all too real. He's right there alright, behind glass and grinning at her with this stupid smug look and – Is he freaking waving at her?
Well, she's not going to wave back!
With her back as straight as a pole, Elsa walks towards him and Hans rolls down his window like he's afraid she might beat him to a pulp for the stunt he pulled.
The first things that comes out of her mouth is a question, which is not a surprise. Nonetheless, it should have been something furious like 'What the hell?' or demanding like 'What are you doing here?' or just anything accusing in general, but it isn't. Instead, she asks "Where have you been?!" like she's been expecting him to come back all along.
This should have infuriated her. It should have felt like some cosmic joke or some kind of backfire from giving her address to him when he offered to pick her up to go to the sea, but it doesn't feel like any of those things.
"Where have you been?" She repeats again once she's closer, hissing loudly.
He looks her up and down, and she doesn't even care that she looks nothing but comfy (and angry) – with a deep coloured purple robe thrown over her blue pyjamas; her arms are crossed against her chest and a scowl etched on her beautiful face.
Through his now open car door, Hans says nonchalantly, "I told you, I was busy."
"And you couldn't tell me in your spare time?" Elsa asks, still standing a foot away. She peers at him. From where she was standing, the angles are all strange with Elsa being the one standing taller and regal-like, her robe resembled a cape fit for a Queen; all swishy and elegant, while Hans is squished and compacted into his car. She notes how his clever hands never leave the steering wheel. Well, isn't he determined to go somewhere?
"What? Were you worried about me?" He teases her.
She only sulks in reply, not in the mood to answer him.
It clearly shows because his proud smirk softens by a bit. He tells her, "I didn't have time to say anything. I was away but I read your book when I was free."
Is that supposed to make up for his absence? A subtle way of saying 'I never called but I was thinking of you'.
Elsa stays quiet until her arms uncross, her silent tantrum is over. Then she says, "I haven't seen you all week."
"I had a deadline to meet." He explains but it's not enough. He looks like he's swallowed a lemon as these words tumble out of his mouth. The way he says it tells her 'You don't want to hear about it' then there's a pause.
Elsa plays with her hands for a moment, a habit that feels long forgotten. She hasn't really fiddled with anything since Hans told her to stop wearing her lanyard, he said it made her look ridiculous but it's his company policy and she's the one with barely functional pockets, remember?
This 'deadline', she knows it's a bitter thing to talk about, but it piques her interest. "Did you?" She says after a moment.
His fingers tap against the steering wheel. "Did I what?"
"Did you meet the deadline." She repeats. "Is that why you're here? To tell me your good fortune?" Because you have no friends to tell or anyone else to share this with? "Are you celebrating?"
Hans looks at Elsa in the eyes, emerald green still as bright as ever. It's a holding gaze. It takes Elsa a moment, in the darkness of her driveway, before she notices how Hans is only dressed in jeans and a simple green shirt. Wait, where's the three piece suit? Okay, what's going on? She's already raising a brow, about to ask.
Then the redhead man barks out a laugh at her question; strong and humourless. "Did I meet it? Ha! I haven't been able to meet any of my deadlines in months. Honestly, I don't even know why I try."
What?
"But, I suppose it's the least I could do." He continues, just making Elsa even more confused.
Again, what?
"Considering how …" Hans paused, thinking. "Lars asked me to help. He's one of my favourite persons, did I ever tell you that?"
Um, wait, what?
"You've hinted it." Elsa answers slowly. Her hands are now by her sides. She doesn't know what to do with them.
Hans hums, a content expression painted on his face. Then he sighs, "This deadline shouldn't have made any difference though, but it does." Then he corrects himself. "I mean, it did. But it's done now so who cares?"
What does that mean?
"Come!" Hans gesture to the shotgun seat of his car. "Let's celebrate my failure!" He says, oddly cheerful. He's probably accepted his faith.
Elsa gives him a strange look. "Is this … a pity party?"
"Ding, ding, ding! Get dressed, put on your dancing shoes!"
She starts shaking her head slowly, letting her blonde hair fall down her shoulders. Elsa tries making up some kind of excuse. This is sudden. "Y – You didn't even ask me if I was busy or – or doing anything."
"You're obviously not. I notice that all the lights in the house are out except the one in your room and your driveway is empty so I'm assuming you're home alone." Hans utters briefly then points to her outfit. "Plus, you're in your pyjamas."
Oh wow. He … He's not wrong but …
Needless to say, Elsa's not just going to say 'yes' just because she's 'free' tonight. She's not …
Her head's saying one thing and her heart's saying another. It's all so very confusing. Lottie's words are ringing in her ears like warning alarms. The same goes with Mulan's on the fence, ambiguous one. Elsa should really keep her distance. But she sort of misses him, not that Elsa would ever admit that out loud.
In an instant out of pure defence, Elsa almost wants to tell him to 'Go home, Hans, stop bothering me' but she knows it won't work because she knows him. She knows he came here for a reason and Hans can be stubborn when he wants something. Then Elsa tries to think of something else, maybe if she does something crazy like yell 'Go away! Leave me alone!' with everything that her young heart can manage then he would do just that, but she can't imagine herself doing anything crazy. The same goes with her screaming at him like a maniac to 'Get out!' because all he'd say is 'I'm not even in your house'. He'd just rebuttal her.
So Elsa settles with a lame, "I, I'm – I'm not going with you."
And as she pushes these words out, Lottie's words blare loudly in her brain again, making her head and skull hurt. Great. Just great. So much for a peaceful night.
"Well?" Elsa asks when she looks Hans in the eyes. "Go –" away? Just for tonight, go away. "– party or whatever without me." Sweat gathers at the back of her neck and Hans is … quiet?
His silence is almost scary, he chooses to only click his tongue at her response. The night echoes with sounds of crickets and owls and the hum of his running engine. She's avoiding him. It's clear that she is by the way she's hesitating. He's not stupid, he noticed and now he thinking of ways to pry her out of her shell (again).
Then he reaches over and pops open the glove department. Elsa catches sight of something white – a pair of white gloves. She can't believe someone like Hans even uses the glove department for actual gloves – before Hans pulls out her copy of The Book Thief. The brown cover barely stands out against the shadows and darkness of the night, unlike his bright red hair.
"Not even if I hold this as a hostage?" He asks, holding on the passenger's side, away from his open door.
You little –! She can't even finish that thought. He's driving her mad!
"Give me that; it was a gift!" Elsa extends her hand, face now flustered.
"I want something in exchange." He tells her, pulling his arm away further.
What is wrong with him? Elsa screams in her mind then yells out loud, "I lent that to you!"
"I don't care."
"Is this how – You're being childish!" She half tempted to march over and open the passenger seat, but a part of her is afraid he'd do something maddening like reverse out of her driveway once he's got her trapped in his car.
"Just for tonight." Hans says to her like he's asking for the moon. "For one night and one night only. Come out with me. I won't ask anything of you ever again."
'For one night and one night only'? What is this: a magical Cinderella night? Hans will never stop wanting more!
"I told you: I'm not going!" If she wasn't afraid of how expensive he is, she would be pulling him by the collar but she's pretty sure he'd sue her.
"Then I'm going to keep it if you don't come with me."
No! He can't! He can't!
This is not just a book, God damn it! That day; that day when he told her they were going to the sea, she had brought that book with her for a reason. She thought she could finally summon the courage to read it, to face some reality. But, she couldn't. So she gave it away for a little while because she was tired of staring at it on her bookshelf, but Hans can't just take it. He can't! It was –
"It was a gift! Give it back!" Elsa finds herself yelling before she can even register it. Now she's not afraid to show him what she can do with her hands. If she has to resort to extreme actions, she will. "Hans, I mean it!"
The expression she makes and the distress in her voice breaks him out of his taunting behaviour.
"Okay, okay, I'll give you back the book. I'll leave you alone, take it, I'm – I'm sorry. I just thought, I figured we could ..." Hans trails off, not finishing his words, and passing the paperback over.
She snatches the book out of his hands before he can do anything further. She doesn't even care if she reacted like a crazy person. He can't do that.
"You can't do that!" Elsa holds her book close to her heart like a shield.
"I said I'm sorry."
"I don't – I don't care if you are sorry! I don't want an apology from you!" She's never spoken to him like this. Never been this mad.
Usually, in a situation like this, he'd try to calm her down. Touch the inside of her wrist, pull her away from her thoughts but there's a storm going on in her head and Hans isn't sure if he's the right person anymore.
"Okay," Hans says slowly, raising his hands in surrender. "Okay, I'll leave."
"G – Good." Elsa stutters.
"I'll leave you alone and never talk to you again, alright?"
Wait, never? What about seeing him on Monday at work like a normal person? She doesn't want him to ignore her existence entirely. That's not what Elsa wanted. She just wanted some space to think. She just wanted some distance because he's always confusing her and she's a mess but she doesn't want him to disappear from her life all over again. She just wanted him to stop being a jerk, stop using her book as a hostage, stop everything.
She's so caught up in her head again that she doesn't hear Hans shutting the door close until her vision comes rushing back to her and Hans is halfway down her driveway, reversing back from where he came from.
"Wa – Wait!" Elsa finds herself gasping. Pathetic. She feels pathetic with her clinginess and indecisive attitude and stupid demons. She jogs after his car that's now on halt. He rolls down his windows. "Where did you say you were going again?" You just got here.
Hans looks at her like he's surprised that she's not pleased with him leaving. "I didn't. Um, I'm going to see my friends." He says to her, genuinely glad that's she's calmed down a bit.
It takes her a moment to process this information. "You have friends?"
A chuckle rumbling from his throat and digs deep into her ribs, she can feel it. He must have found it hilarious that she's reacting this way to his news.
"Yes." He laughs, not even hurt that she's implied that he's a lonely man with nothing but a large ego and money. "Would you like to meet them?"
With her book still acting like a shield, all Elsa can do is look at Hans.
"If you do," He suggests slowly like he's completely forgotten that she had shouted at him moments ago, then his green eyes land back on her clothes. "I suggest you have a quick change. Nothing too formal. Dress casual yet presentable." Oh great, he's already handing out fashion tips again. Back to their old ways.
"Do you always have to tell me what to you?" Ah, yes. Back to the question.
"People see what they want to see, Elsa."
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"Do you want to meet them?"
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Translation: I know you're scared but it's okay if we aren't completely alone, right? It's safe.
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Yes, Hans Westergaard is her good with his words.
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(The ponytail was something different.
The look still pulled her hair out of her face, still showed off her cheekbones and long neck, and still required minimum effort but it felt new. It wasn't her usual formal work bun or messy-beach-day-tucked-in-hoodie hair. It made her look playful and told the world how good she looked in it because he reaches over and cups her dainty chin, tilting her face in different angles.
He really does like looking at her.
(And she really wants to slap his hand away. Don't touch me –)
"Remember when I told you to change your hair?" He asks her, staring at her profile.
"Yes?" Irritation sinks into that single word. If he's going to tell her to change it, she will leave this car and tell him to go away.
"I take it back, you should keep your hair long, it suits you better." Hans tells her, offering more than a sideway glance. "You look good with a ponytail. You should do your hair like that more often."
She resists the urge to roll her eyes. The truth is: she never liked putting her hair in ponytails. It flops everywhere and tickles the back of her neck and slaps people by accident when she makes sharp turns. This compliment should have annoyed her.
But it doesn't.
And when he pulls his hand back and drags his wrist across the steering well, she just looks out the window and fights a smile.)
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Notes 2: Idk why I've been getting a lot of reviews lately but you guys do know that all my Helsa stories end the same, right? Bad ending. I'm just putting this out here since I've had people in the past who apparently can't read and whine about unhappy endings. The ANGST tag alone should be enough of a warning. Where there's smoke, there's fire. I've given my warnings (any comments about wanting a happy ending will be laughed at), I said what I said.
Straight up, I love Helsa; I love looking at happy Helsa and reading about happy Helsa and thinking about happy Helsa but I can't write it. Personally, I see them as a toxic couple. I have a complex relationship with this ship; I'll read happy endings about them, but I won't write it. It's like when your beloved child goes, "Mama, X's mommy lets her eat pure sugar for dinner, I want to eat pure sugar too!" and I have to go, "No, bitch, you're eating vegetables!" I just can't bring myself to write a happy ending, okay? It's unrealistic to me, I'll hate the fic forever and likely abandon it if I gotta write bullshit happy endings.
TL;DR: I love the ship, but the OTP has issues.
If you want to read happy ending Helsa fics, I suggest secretcastle's The Queen's Admiral and BookishDruid's Ever Moment After. They're both long and lovely and pretty much absorbs everything around you until suddenly it's been days and you're finally on the last chapter.
Notes 3: I dunno why I consider ponytails playful; I blame it on cheerleaders and Ariana Grande.
Notes 4: I've noticed that I've subconsciously written loads of moments where Elsa is just eating because of the Helsa fics I've read. The fics are always in the setting where Elsa goes "I have so many Queenly duties and paperwork to do, I have no time to eat" meanwhile here I'm just like "Eat, Elsa, eat as much as you want. Stuff your face, eat four meals a day, I don't care. Just eat!"
– 21 January 2019