Another busy day was well behind Elsa as she slipped into an evening bath filled with scented oils and a sprinkling of flower petals Gerda always added for that extra bit of pampering. At least once a week, Elsa let the devoted older woman off early, and when she refused on this particular night, Elsa kindly insisted with her persuasive tone and causally mentioned that she really just needed to relax in private. Which was the honest truth.

Alone at last after endless economic advisory meetings and holding court in the great hall, the heat of the water and serene quiet vanquished any remaining stress of the day from Elsa's knotted muscles.

As she dipped below the water and then rested her head against the rounded edge of the tub, eyes closed as the ceiling disappeared from view, her mind drifted back to that magical kiss in the garden, and how it had unmistakably roused the passion within her. Nostalgia had been divinely sweet, but the glimpse of what they could have been together- what they could still be together- was even more provocative as she entertained the fantasy of her and Hans coming together as one.

The scent of lavender accompanied her reverie as Elsa let her mind wander to thoughts of them in the bliss of couplehood. If they had been married. How those same arms and lips would welcome her into bed each night, holding her just as Hans had done when she'd come to him for comfort not long ago.

Remnants of the day and of the admiral trickled away as Elsa rose from the tub, water rippling down her fragrant frame as she wrung out her hair and reached for her robe.

She toweled off the remaining water from her thick mane and began to brush it in front of a massive vanity when her robe slipped open a bit, exposing the v of her alluring cleavage. Just the inner curves of the generous mounds.

With her body free of its usual dusting of ice and rosy pink from soaking up the water's fervent heat, her skin had more of a peachy undertone to it. Soft. Supple. Youthfully firm. Elsa wasn't one to be vain, but she was apt enough to know that she was aesthetically blessed. Not just the most powerful woman in all of Arendelle but the most beautiful as well, rivaled only by Anna.

The silk robe slid seductively lower over her shoulder, piquing her curiosity as she imagined Hans seeing her reveal herself to him like this. Showing him the woman she'd grown into, having left the gangly teenager behind. The thought alone accelerated her breathing, excitement and desire whipping through her like a wild breeze. With one pull of the belt, the robe fell to the floor, forgotten as Elsa admired her naked self from an entirely different, more mature, perspective.

She saw her body nude all the time, and, in private, was never concerned with modesty. Yet, as she gazed upon herself through the eyes of her desired beholder, she marveled at how feminine and womanly she'd become since she last took a good look at her body.

Pleasantly full breasts and a slender rib cage sloped down into a flat stomach, an alabaster plane of angelic perfection. Tone, taunt, and sumptuously lined by well-defined muscles, Elsa languidly caressed the beauty of her torso as if discovering unexplored land. Imagining her hands as his. Entranced by the softness of each fingertip and transported to a new dimension of sensual excitement as her nerves crackled to life.

It wasn't just the longing for intimate physical touch. It was the knowledge that Hans had dreamt about and waited for the day that he could savor the brilliance of her body. He'd never seen her bare; and, at one point in time, her body had been meant for his eyes only. He loved her, then and now, and there was something incredibly thrilling about combining those kinds of highly charged emotions with the final frontier of physical pleasure.

Her thighs pressed together, trying and failing to quell the rush of arousal between them, only to force a throb that made her cry Hans inside of her head like the escape of billowing steam. She had to bite her lower lip to suppress the urge to say it out loud.

And then her heart sank, yanked back into reality as she cast a displeased gaze back to her reflection. She didn't feel beautiful anymore, just disappointed that she had sunk this deep into the quagmire of fantasy and hadn't caught herself in time. The love she felt for Hans was already strong, dormant for a period of time, but never entirely forgotten. Now she could see the desperation glinting in her eyes. How, if he had been right there with her, there would have been no stopping herself.

It frightened Elsa to know that she was becoming a woman who held the attention of two separate men. Both appealing to different sides of herself and neither really convincing her which was real love. She spun away from the mirror, too ashamed to continue on as she had been.

What am I doing?

Henrik was bound to pull into port in the morning, and here she was fondling herself to Hans. Then she remembered Anna's words about weaving a web she might not be able to get out of. But telling herself to stop thinking about Hans was as good as "conceal, don't feel." It never worked, and it only made it more difficult to not think about him.

After a night of scolding herself and then dreaming about Hans, again, Elsa took a deep breath as she came to her senses and obediently waited for Henrik to disembark from his ship, assuming the statuesque stance of the regal Queen he would be expecting.

Normally when Henrik returned from his travels, he'd pull her close and give Elsa quick kiss before they returned inside to hear about his adventures over a pot of hot tea and a platter of finger foods.

However, this time, he practically galloped down the gangplank and swept Elsa up into his arms, eliciting a gasp and shockingly wide smile from her as he twirled around and gently set her back down on her feet.

"What-I don't even... what is all this?" Interrupting herself once she saw the ridiculous number of trunks being unloaded from the cargo area of the ship. Far more than he had left with.

"Gifts!" Henrik gushed and held her petite hands tightly in his, unrecognizable gaiety dancing across his exuberant face. "Dozens of gifts for my queen."

As soon as the trunks were placed in his room, Henrik rushed Elsa back into the castle, chomping at the bit to bowl her over with the extravagant treasures he'd brought back for her.

"I bought this for you, amongst many other things," handing her a small but elegantly wrapped box. "I couldn't stop thinking about you the whole time I was away. I could have filled three more trunks if my brothers hadn't yanked me away from the marketplace."

"That's so kind, but you shouldn't have," trying to be as modest as she could, but thinking that bringing her back gifts didn't make up for the time apart.

"Nonsense," Henrik insisted. "You deserve much more. Please," motioning to the box for her to open.

Elsa untied the gold satin ribbon and lifted off the top to find a gorgeous purple silk scarf.

"Oh, Henrik," she gasped. "It's beautiful." The sumptuous fabric slid between her hands as Elsa unfolded the panels of the scarf in awe.

"There were so many beautiful colors, and I almost got blue. But purple is the color of royalty. So I figured it suited you best."

She was flattered beyond belief, almost stunned speechless by his grand gesture. Henrik finally seemed to be coming around to her demands for a more serious commitment, and it appeared as though absence had made his heart grown fonder.

Henrik took the scarf from Elsa as she turned to face a full-length mirror. "I'd love to see you wear it sometime," he murmured softly, a smile toying with his lips.

"I'm sure I can find something just as lovely to go with it," Elsa replied innocently enough, until she saw Henrik's eyes darken slightly in his reflection.

"I meant wearing only this," his words prickling her skin with an unmistakable desire she never knew he was capable of possessing. Henrik fanned the fabric over her chest, forming it to her torso and bust line, more like a corset than something meant to wear around the neck, when Elsa's mouth dropped in surprise.

"Oh," she realized, rapidly batting her eyes. He wanted to see her naked. Probably even thought about it while he was away. Apparently absence really had made the heart grown fonder. And more daring as well.

Before Elsa could process what this sudden advance even meant for the two of them, Henrik spun her back around to face him, holding her firmly in his arms with a dire look etched on his features.

"I've been a fool, my love. I've had you here this whole time, and although I care for you very much, I didn't understand just how much until I was away from you for so long."

Elsa was utterly gobsmacked, with saucer-wide eyes and trembling lips that parted like a fish struggling to breath out of water. "Henrik I-"

"You've been asking me for more," holding her tighter, "Not outright, but I know Anna echoes the truth you speak to her. And I want to give it to you. I'm old enough to have already started a family by now. Truth is, I've been afraid to settle down and get married. Have children. I want that with you though. I was wrong to put my leisurely pursuits before you and I; Anna showed me that. Please forgive me, my darling."

With his lips just a breath away from hers, Elsa wasn't exactly sure what to say. And she would have been lying to herself if she didn't admit he just said what she'd been longing to hear from him.

"You want that with me?" Her perfectly sculpted brows knitting at her question. "Marriage and a family? What changed?" Elsa demanded softly, but with the threat of anger piercing her tone. His revelation was welcomed, but the timing wasn't exactly great.

"I told you. I wasn't ready, but now I think I am. On the trip, my brothers all went to town and found ladies at the taverns to take company with. I stayed behind and thought of you. I remember thinking how the stars in the sky reminded me of the ice sparkling on your gown. How the majestic waters of Greece held the same blue as your gorgeous eyes. I don't usually think that way. This isn't a marriage proposal. Not now anyway, but I want you to know that I want to take that next step with you, soon."

"Soon, but not now," just simply clarifying. Like there was some good reason for him to keep her waiting even longer.

"Soon," he promised with a curling smile. "Let me woo you. Show you how much I love you so that when I do ask you, you'll know I mean it." He didn't allow her to say anything more and kissed her, gently at first and then harder as the scarf slipped off her frame and onto the floor between them.

Commitment, a promise, and the devotion Elsa had been wanting to gain from Henrik. All in the palm of her hand. But still no fire when he pressed his lips to hers. He said he loved her, so that couldn't be the problem. She cared for him, could even see them getting married maybe, but instantly started to doubt if she was capable of love. Or what that even was anymore. There had to be something wrong with her. She knew it then.

The mouth of the fjord was so small, it hardly allowed for many trajectory points from which to launch an attack. Hans was methodically crouched over a map spread out across a large table in an office Elsa had set aside for his use. Models of ships covered the parchment as Hans struggled to maneuver them into a successful formation.

"Playing with your toys?" A welcomed voice called from the doorway where Elsa was perched asymmetrically against the frame. Hip jutted out to one side, arms crossed, with a smirk twisted about her lips. A look that could kill from the heat it provoked. Though Hans knew that was just Elsa's normal expression of playfulness and not meant to be as sexual as it came off.

"Playing with my toys and saving your kingdom," meeting her with a smirk of his own. "What are you doing here?"

"I'm not exactly sure, but here I am nonetheless."

"Want to watch me work? Sounds like you're bored. Though I can't imagine your schedule even allows for such a thing."

Elsa floated across the room and sat in a wing chair near the table, legs elegantly crossed with her dress temptingly draped over them in such a way that made Hans want to know what the rest of her bare thigh looked like beneath the sheet of icy clothing.

She watched him diligently survey the swirling currents of the North Sea just beyond the opening channel to the kingdom, eyes flicking back and forth between his ships' positions and the fascinated blonde just off to the side.

"Tell me something about yourself that I don't know already. Something you've learned since you became queen."

Sapphire eyes rose to the rafters of the room as she thought about a question no one had ever bothered to ask her before. "I love to dance," evoking a captivating smile from Hans from the way she brightened at her own reply. "I don't get to do as much of it as I'd like, but it's everything I thought it'd be. Sometimes even more."

"You're a natural," Hans exclaimed. "Light on your feet. You've got rhythm, musicality, grace. Though based on my experience, your ending needs a little work," smirking playfully in her direction. "Running out on your partner isn't exactly how one completes a waltz." As embarrassed as she was, Elsa possessed a sense of humor that allowed her to at least laugh at herself.

"I'm sorry about that. We'll have to try again sometime," more of a promise than a suggestion. "What about you? What do you love about the navy?"

"The freedom," he replied without needing much time to reflect. "It's a beautiful feeling to wake up just as the sun is rising, every line of the horizon radiating with that gorgeous orange. And when you're out far enough, there's nothing but you and endless stretches of blue for as far as the eye can see. Away from all your troubles. With a profound sense of quiet that lets you really get in touch with yourself. It's a wonderful feeling."

Elsa rested her head against her fist as she listened with an easy smile, whisked away to the celestial image he'd drawn with his words.

"I think I can relate." Elsa had never been out to sea, but a towering castle surrounded by peaked white mountains had provided the freedom and solitude to which Hans was referring. An escape from the hardships of life. "What else do you love about it?"

Hans chuckled and moved to the other side of the desk. "You're really that interested?"

"Yes," making herself comfortable to hear more.

"The pride," he said more seriously. "I've never really been good at anything. Never had to earn respect. And I have. My men listen to me. My people are finally starting to see me for who I really am and not for my misfortune or my mistakes. I can look at myself and feel pleased with who I've become. Well, almost. We all have our bad days," his genuineness shining through the dark clouds of his past.

"Yes, we do."

There was a collective silence as they both enjoyed the pleasant chord they'd struck with their candidness.

"The fjord is such a small tactical area. I honestly think you'd be much better off building batteries up in the hills. A canon would have a clean shot from that distance. And no one would see it coming."

"It's brilliant," Elsa declared and delicately laid her hands in her lap. "I'll propose it next meeting."

"That easily?"

"It's a good idea. Why not?" Hans shrugged and went back to his map, brows pinched in concentration as Elsa rested her elbow on the arm of the chair and played with the tip of her finger in her mouth. Watching him. Studying him. Amazed at how they were now able to be in the same room and just enjoy each other's company.

Hans' hand brushed over the shoreline of Arendelle, coastal blue meeting the dense green of land as his thumb traced along.

"Carved by glaciers," he mumbled to himself, imagining the staggering cliffs of the fjord in his mind. "Only nature can create such beauty."

Elsa stopped and dropped her hand into her lap, making a thud that made Hans glance up at her.

"What?" He asked, unsure of if he'd done something wrong.

"My father used to say that all the time. About the land. He loved its beauty." Her eyes fell to her hands, and she gripped them tightly together, one over the other as a throb of sadness echoed in her heart. It made Hans ache for the loss that still affected her so greatly.

"He was a good man."

Elsa nodded and smiled at the memory of the man who had tried to help her the best he could. "He liked you," she murmured affectionately, sapphire orbs meeting his sympathetic gaze.

"I know," Hans replied fondly, proud to have been in the late king's favor. So much more rewarding than his relationship with his own father.

"He used to tell me how lucky I was to have someone who cared for me the way you did. He was excited about what kind of leaders we'd become. Together." The loss of her father was one thing, but the reminder of what had crumbled between her and Hans, with him right in front of her, tormented by a situation she never would have found herself in if things had worked out, made her feel even worse.

"It'll get easier. I promise."

"What will get easier?" Elsa asked.

"The loss, of us. I feel it too. It hurts so bad I want to do everything in my power to change it, but I can't. I'm not going to hunt you down when you're spoken for." Since Henrik's return, he'd seen even less of Elsa. But no matter how much Hans wanted to reclaim what fate had robbed them of, he was gentleman enough to win her properly.

"Can I show you something?" Elsa asked, growing more melancholic by the moment as her dress grew a shade darker.

"Anything."

Elsa strode over to Hans and reached for his wrist, undid the golden buttons on the cuff, and then proceeded to roll it up past his elbow. She took her index finger, delicate and thin, and placed it in his upturned palm. He had no idea what she had planned, but he didn't flinch, trusting her completely. Her finger began a slow path up the inner stretch of his forearm, ribbons of frost branching and curling out in a fluid dance across his skin, veins of blue embellished with the crystalline glaze of her signature snowflakes.

"It's beautiful. The shapes always remind me of you."

"Be honest," because she already knew the answer. "Is it cold?"

"It's freezing. Biting." His spine wriggled as the piercing frost ascended towards his elbow.

Her hand left the smoothness of his skin and lazily traced over his chest, coating his shirt because she wasn't watching her work. She was swimming in green orbs.

"That's what it feels like for me. In my heart. It's cold. So cold I wonder if somehow I've frozen my own heart. It's unbearable."

"Oh, Elsa."

She reached down for his other hand and brought it to her chest, right over where her heart was beating below the winter white flesh.

"Except when I'm with you. It's warm. Burns even sometimes. There's a fire. I can feel it in my veins. Bringing me to life." She was tearing now. "Why is that?" She shuddered. "I've never felt anything like it except for with my family. But this is different. What's wrong with me?"

"Nothing's wrong with you," grabbing her by the shoulders. "Elsa, you're a complex woman. With a much deeper range of emotions than most." His attempts to comfort her rolled over her like water off a duck's back, and she shook her head in sullen protest. "What makes you think there's something wrong with you?" Touching his forehead to hers.

"Because I'm torn in the most unimaginable way. It's testing my strength, and I don't think I have the will to fight it."

He cupped a hand around her cheek, unknowingly making her struggle only worse. "Fight what? What it is you want?"

"You."

"You will always have me, Elsa. No matter what," he promised, steadfast and true.

Elsa's eyes flicked down to where she was now holding his hands, and when she looked back up at him, there was a hunger in those glacier irises. Subtle and timid, but perfectly reflecting his own need to be closer to her. A seal of ice filled the cracks of the door and froze the lock solid. Out of the corner of Hans' eye he could see a thick layer of frost furcating over the gabled windows of the room, shrouding them in privacy.

Elsa's breath hitched as she raised his hand to her neck. "Touch me," she whispered breathlessly into the scarce distance between them.

Touch was such a simple thing that most people took for granted. What was usually a given in life was something Elsa had only recently been free to experience after such a long absence from physical human contact. Even in their finest hour, Hans' hands had been covered in gloves, and Elsa was dressed entirely from the neck down. The day in the garden was the first time he laid a bare hand to her cheek. And the other night, she'd relished the warmth of his strappingly naked chest.

The trail he was leading over the sender curves of her clavicle was a procession of electricity. Jolts of sensation and pleasure sparking her skin to the point where she nearly stopped breathing. He followed the smooth bone to the cap of her shoulder, uncovered and with tiny rainbows glittering on the area from the prisms her ice crystals projected from the sleeve of the dress.

Touch wasn't enough for Hans, and he placed a tiny kiss to the ivory surface, eliciting a hard swallow from Her Majesty.

"Getting warmer?" He asked in a sinfully deep voice that tickled her spine with excitement.

"Scorching," she heaved helplessly. All remaining willpower dissipating as her cravings soared to newfound heights.

Even though she wore more revealing clothing nowadays, it was still too much for Hans. The scaled detailing of her bodice felt like glassy chips of ice beneath his fingertips, cool and sensuously divine, just like its creator.

When his hand cruised over her dress for what Elsa felt was too long, not paying enough attention to the uncovered areas, she grasped his hand in hers and slowly, tantalizingly, raised it from the flat of her stomach up to her contracting rib cage. Refusing to stop until Hans understood that she wanted him to touch her someplace more salacious. Because to come this far after so long, her body kept pleading for a deeper connection. They could feel the rush pulsing through their veins, urging and longing for a chance for something beyond simple kissing.

Elsa's hand left Hans' as she invitingly arched her chest out, heaving with excitement and anticipation. Hans hesitated, worried about what kind of a rabbit hole they were about to plunge down.

His hand resumed its course and ran over the beveled bodice until his hand held her entire breast, the needy cry that left her lips awakening a primal urge within him. He didn't care anymore about anyone who stood in his way or what this would mean later. Hans had learned to live in the present because such rare opportunities were fleeting. And he wasn't about to let this one slip away from him.

"Hans," she breathed erratically, destroying his last shred of hesitation as he swiftly picked her up and set her on the desk behind him.

Their lips crashed together, and Elsa sighed right away, relief washing over her as they unlocked the fury of their love. He kissed her deeper with each adjustment of their mouths, sucking the air from her lungs and leaving her truly breathless and thunderstruck with lust.

His hand on her breast was euphoria, but she wanted to allow him more of her. As they continued to kiss, Elsa guided Hans' hand to that exposed part of her thigh he'd been eyeing earlier, not entirely sure what she wanted but knowing that she had to find out how it would make her feel. How it would make him feel. He started at her knee, boney and rhythmically rubbing against his hip. Then he reached the smooth stretch of skin hidden below the dress, her head tilting back as a soft moan left her lips. Hans ventured further, until it dawned on him that he was about to touch her in a way that would start a wildfire he'd regret with all his heart.

With sadness filling his eyes, Hans reluctantly pulled away.

"What's wrong?" She fretted. "It's me, isn't it?"

His hand caressed the translucent freckles on the apple of her cheek. "No, it's not you. I want this. More than anything. But not this way. I love you too much to let things unfold like this. C'mere," helping her stand as he stood at the end of the desk and framed her face with both of his hands. "I understand the urge. It's mutual, believe me. But I always dreamed of you as mine. Finally getting to be with you and calling you my wife. My bride. Where our love wasn't behind frozen windows and doors. It was free."

Elsa lowered her eyes to the floor and nodded. He had the strength to say what she couldn't remember long enough to restrain herself. So in some strange way, she was thankful, and yet, devastated at the same time.

"I just think you have some thinking to do, and there's no rush. I would never put that on you." He lifted her chin up towards him and kissed her, soft and lingering. Because while Hans was the wiser of the two at the moment, he knew that if he was going to give her time to think things over, he was going to leave things between them on a high note.

He spared her the awkwardness of leaving, so he did. It was her castle, and she probably needed a moment to gather herself before returning to the day's busy schedule.

With a wave of her hand, she defrosted the door as Hans turned back to wink at her before slipping out into the hallway. He was right. Using her head instead of just following her heart for a while was probably best. Something was holding her back, and she wasn't able to pinpoint exactly what it was.

While Hans may have left the office with his dignity still intact, it wasn't more than a few nights later that he found himself drowning his sorrows in a foaming pint of pilsner at a local tavern. He missed Elsa terribly, the frost on the glass acting like salt in his wounds as he etched little swirls and snowflakes into it with his fingernail. It almost made him regret that he hadn't asked her to show off her powers more when they were together. He loved them, just as much as he loved her because they were special and unique. Just like Elsa.

"Good evening, Admiral," a rather cocky voice shot down to Hans in his seat. He was sneering before he even looked up and didn't regret his reaction when he saw it was Henrik, smile peeking out from behind his ridiculous mustache.

"I'm fairly sure we have absolutely no business to discuss," Hans mustered as politely as he could and slugged back another gulp of his brew.

"You're right. This isn't about business; this is about pleasure." Well that had Hans' attention. More out of absurdity than curiosity. "This is Ida," he announced as a smiling young woman stepped out from behind Henrik. "She'd... like to keep you company this evening. Anything you like. She's here to please."

The fire raging out of Hans' steely gaze wasn't enough to shut the older man up. "She's blonde," Henrik added. "I assume that's your type."

It took Hans' entire royal upbringing to keep himself calm and not punch the man right then and there. "What exactly do you think you're doing?" He spat.

"Keeping your intentions pure, and your attention away from what's mine," Henrik replied with a smug smile plastered on his face.

"What's yours? I wouldn't even dare to suggest that Elsa belonged to anyone other than herself, but to suggest that the Queen is somehow your property is extremely bold. And foolish," erasing the gloating smile off the other man's face.

"You think you know her, but not like I do. While you've been gone, I've been here. You're no longer a prince, and you have the nerve to approach her. It's shameful."

Hans lost his title the week he returned from Arendelle, never to regain it. Without knowing the full story, the people of the Southern Isles demanded punishment and no longer wanted Hans as their prince. It had never bothered Hans as much as it did just then, thrown in his face like a dirty dishrag meant to humiliate him by another person who judged before knowing.

"I may not have my title, but her father hand-selected me to be her husband. Can you say that?"

Henrik chuckled at Hans as though he were dealing with a child, unworthy to even grace Hans with his dignified presence. "You were chosen for your age and political matters. Don't flatter yourself."

"In the beginning, yes. But I can't tell you the number of times he told me how delighted he was to have Elsa as my betrothed. I held his favor. You never have. I'm pretty sure he wouldn't appreciate a man ten years her senior preying on her like a lamb."

"Held his favor?" Henrik mocked with a deep laugh that made Hans scowl in return. "You tried to kill his daughter. I'm certain no king, or father, would condone such an action." There was nothing Hans could say to that, and he hated the way the truth shackled his ability to defend himself. "Stay away from her. I need only to warn you once."

Henrik turned on the heel of his boot and left Hans to nurse his wounds at the bar. The temptation to feel sorry for himself was right at the tip of Hans' fingers. Self-pity would have been easy to embrace. To think of what Agdar would have thought about what he'd done to Elsa cut him deeply. But it was the result of a series of terrible events, most of which had been out of his control.

As he held the sweaty mug in his hand, he stared at himself in the reflection of the glassy surface of his pilsner and felt something fiery bloom inside of him. Like a warrior who had just heard his call to battle. He'd been a gentleman and stopped Elsa's advances towards him, choosing to do things the right way. Now he knew he couldn't stop. He couldn't stop her or himself. He was going to fight for her, win her. Because after everything they'd been through, he wasn't going to come this far only to let her slip from his grasp again. It was a challenge that Henrik had thrown down, and Hans accepted it wholeheartedly, guided by his love for Elsa and the unshakeable ability to keep coming back when life knocked him down.

I was sick last week, so I'm doing my best to catch up on replying to reviews. I promise this isn't a fic that's going to be me shoving an OC down everyone's throat. There is soooooo much more Helsa to come :)

Have an awesome weekend everyone!