A/n: I didn't mean for it to escalate to this degree, but it happens. Also I'm considering changing the title of this fic, do you think I should? Just a heads up, I'm probably going to split the entire story into two parts.

Aside from the rooftops, the library was one of Elsa's favorite places to spend her time. A room dedicated completely to peace and quiet, with endless rows of books on shelves that reached all the way to the ceiling. In the center of the room was an array of furniture—a couple armchairs, tables, and a couch—where the light from a set of stained glass windows spilling upon the room in all colors, but rather than sit down comfortably she was lying on the slightly scratchy rug as she read her book. She didn't know why; she just felt compelled to for some odd reason. There was a click and the low creaking of a door opening accompanied by the sound of footsteps, but she didn't look away from her book.

"Hey, stranger," said a familiar voice. She peaked up over the top of her book to see a Hans grinning at her with his easy smile she knew so well.

Elsa grinned, setting her book down. "Shhhhh," she said putting a finger to her lips. "Im hiding," she mouthed. Part of her was happy to see him, but the more pragmatic but also more nervous part of her wanted to run.

"Oh, ok," he said, lowering his voice for her. "What for?"

"Not for any specific reason, it's just that with all the planning for the upcoming ball, everybody's been hounding me." She sat up, shifting her weight so that she was leaning against the bookcase. "I mean, micromanaging tends to makes me feel better because at least it gives me a sense of control, but even I have limits when I'm being asked to chose between two shades of tablecloth that are exactly the same."

"So then why're you lying on the floor?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Oh, you know," she said, trying to sound nonchalant, "supposedly it's supposed to be really good for your back, so here I am."

What was he doing here?

He chuckled, sitting down beside her. "It's nice in here, even sitting on the floor."

She nodded. "I like the privacy," she said, sighing. "And the books. The roof is nice, but I prefer being out there when I can see the stars."

"You're still avoiding me," said Hans.

"I'm what? No, no, I'm not," she said, which wasn't true, but she shook her head fervently, as if being more forceful would somehow make her more convincing. She laughed, it coming out much more shrill than it normally would. "I've just been busy." A fortnight had passed since the starry rooftop night, and they hadn't spoken to one another since then, apart from when it pertained to business. Indeed, she had been busy—she always was—but like always, this was just her running away from her problems rather than facing them. She'd gotten quite good at that.

"Elsa, I saw you in the hallway the other day talking to Anna. As soon as you saw me, you turned and ran straight in the other direction."

She groaned, leaning her head back so that it rested against the bookshelves. "Right." So he had seen her. Anna had laughed at her afterwards.

"You're surprisingly fast in heels, by the way."

She would've laughed if it had been any other time than this. "Thanks. I see you're wearing gloves again," she said, nodding towards his hands, hoping this would derail the current direction the conversation was taking.

"You know, I do have more than one pair," he said with an amused grin, but no matter how easily they were able to banter back and forth, it didn't diffuse the tension in the air.

"Right, of course," she said, shaking her head. How could she be so stupid? She stood up abruptly, brushing off the skirt of her dress. "I'd better go, busy day."

He stood up as well. "Alright, well, I'll see you at the ball."

She smiled politely, wishing she was looking forward to it more than she really was. "Yeah," she said as she walked away from him. However, she couldn't bring herself to leave quite yet, still wracked with feelings of guilt. She owed him... something. "Sorry I kissed you, would've saved us all this trouble. Politics and dating don't really..." When she had reached the door, she turned to face him again, one hand still on the handle to the door. "It's, uh... It's a self-preservation kind of thing. You wouldn't understand."

And she was gone, leaving Hans standing there in the library alone. He let out a long sigh. His mind was going a million miles an hour, perplexed at what she possibly could have meant by all that. However, he knew she was wrong about one thing. He knew more about self-preservation than she could possibly know.

—

"Is it just me, or does the room seem to be getting smaller?" Elsa whispered to her sister while the two of them conversed with their guests. Perhaps it was her imagination, but she could have sworn the halls were the most crowded they had ever been, the noisy chatter taking up what little space there was left.

"If you didn't want to have to grin and bear it, you shouldn't have thrown a ball," Anna said back to her under her breath, not breaking her polite smile as they continued to talk. "You're not enjoying yourself?"

"The stress just always seems to be more than it's worth, but everyone else seems to have a good time. Besides," she added, "this was your idea."

"A brilliant idea," said Anna, to which Elsa rolled her eyes. "Have you seen Kristoff?"

"I thought he was with you," she said as she laughed at a joke that had just been told.

He definitely had been the last time she had seen him, but she was under the impression that he was at least somewhere nearby. Apparently this wasn't the case, which was surprising considering he spent most events such as this by Anna's side, needing some goading if he was to leave it.

"Do you see him anywhere near me?" said Anna, sounding disgruntled. She sighed. "He must be with Sven. Again."

"You don't know that. Maybe he's, you know, making friends," suggest Elsa, trying to sound optimistic. Her hopes weren't high; Anna was probably right, but she wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt.

Anna ignored her. "You'd think if he loved me he'd at least try to adapt to living here and being sociable and whatnot."

"He does," insisted Elsa, turning to look at her sister, who was frowning deeply to herself. "But you can't expect him to just change."

Any fool could simply look at Kristoff when he was with Anna and be able to tell that he was very in love with her. He just needed time and space. Elsa understood; she loved her alone time as well. It was a lot to take in and just being thrown into the royal environment so suddenly must not have been easy. She just wished stubborn, impatient Anna would understand.

"No, I know," said Anna, shaking her head, "I just..."

She smiled sympathetically. "Just be glad you're not the one being flocked by people trying to impress you in hopes that they'll be the lucky one to catch your attention."

Thankfully, Anna chuckled, her dark mood slightly alleviated.

"Who's trying to catch whose attention?"

The pair of them spun around to see a handsome young man with brown hair, bright blue eyes, and a charming smile standing before them. "Hi. Who's trying to catch whose attention?" He smiled a smile that could win any girls heart at the two young ladies, but he had eyes only for the snow queen.

"H-hello," stuttered Elsa, momentarily dumbfounded, her eyes widening.

Anna spoke up, answering his question. "My sister's. So many people have been so eager to introduce themselves to her, isn't that right, Elsa?" She snickered, and Elsa coughed and gave her sister a look, unable to do anything under the man's gaze. If Anna caught the look, she didn't acknowledge it.

"And you are?" asked Elsa, addressing the handsome stranger, at last gathering her composure and giving him a polite smile.

"Jackson." He held out his hand to shake. "Jackson Overland. It's an honor to meet you, Princess Anna, Queen Elsa." He shook hands with Anna—who for once was speechless—and kissed Elsa's hand.

She blushed then promptly shook her head, trying to pull herself together again. Get a grip. "The prince of Burgess, of course. Delighted to make your acquaintance, Prince Jackson."

"Please, call me Jack," he said, his smile never faltering. "Do you want to dance?"

"Pardon?" she asked, his question catching her off-guard. Surely she had misheard him. Anyhow, she didn't dance. At least not without the right partner. And definitely not at a public event such as this where she would be a spectacle for all to see. "I'm sorry, I don't—"

Anna cut her off. "Yes, she does."

"You do?"

What was she doing?

"No, I don't, I'm sorry."

"So you don't?"

"Yes, she does."

"I don't!" she addressed to Anna firmly. Elsa turned to Jack. "I'm sorry, I'd love to, but I don't dance."

"Don't take it personally, she never does," said Anna in an aside to Jack, who now was sporting an amused grin.

Elsa was about to protest when suddenly she felt a tap on her shoulder. She turned and saw—to her surprise—familiar freckled face smiling at her.

"You look fantastic," said Hans, voice full of admiration.

Trying to ignore his lingering gaze, she looked him up and down. He was back in his white ensemble, looking picture perfect as always. "Thanks, so do you."

"I've never seen you in red before."

"Anna's idea. It's so vibrant; I stick out like a sore thumb," she said. No doubt that was her sister's intention. She had to admit the dress was beautiful; it had been a gift from Anna and tailored perfectly to the shape of her body. Nevertheless, the Scarlett fabric and snug fit made her feel like she was calling too much attention to herself.

"But in a good way," he said, smiling at her. "Let's dance."

"Oh, I—"

Before she could protest, he took her hand, leading her onto the dance floor. Hans wrapped an arm around her waist, the other one reaching out and interlocking his fingers with hers, closing the distance between the two of them as he led her to the slow melody of the orchestra.

—

Jack and Anna watched the two of them from a distance as they swayed in time to the music.

"I thought you said she didn't dance," said Jack, amused smile on his lips.

"That's because she doesn't," said Anna, perplexed. "She just stands there or maybe talks to the guests. Not a single ball has she danced with anyone."

"Well, that must mean he's not just anyone," said Jack.

Anna silently agreed.

"Such a handsome man," he added, "I almost want to steal him for myself."

She sighed not taking her eyes off the beautiful couple as they took a turn about the room. "I know what you mean."

—

Perhaps it was just paranoia, but Elsa couldn't quite shake the feeling that they were being watched.

"Hans, what are you doing?" she asked him quietly, her voice barely audible, but she knew he could hear her. They were so close that they were practically cheek to cheek.

"Dancing," he said. "It's a common activity at balls, you should give it a try sometime."

"People are staring," she mumbled in his ear, ignoring the snark in his last remark. She could feel her face growing hot and her hands growing cold.

"Nobody's staring."

Out of the corner of her eye she could see Anna giggling at her. Ok, so maybe it was more than just paranoia that told her that she was being watched.

"You ok?" He pulled back slightly so that he could look her in the eye. "What's wrong?" He asked, green eyes looking at her with concern.

"Oh, nothing, nothing," she said, her voice a little too shrill. "It's just that I'm dancing. With you. In a scarlet dress for everyone to see, and you know how people are."

"How are people?"

He had the barest traces of an amused grin on his face. Why was he smiling? Didn't he get it?

"You're a prince, surely you must have some idea," she said in disbelief, unable to buy that he didn't at least have an inclination to what she meant. He must have been humoring her. "The rumors, the gossip."

"Hey, relax. It's just me, no big deal. Friends, remember?"

"Right," she said, taking a deep breath.

"How've you been?"

"Fine."

"So who was that?" he asked, letting go of her waist so that he could twirl her and then wind his arm around her once more.

"Who was who?" she asked even though she knew exactly who he was talking about.

"The guy you were talking to."

"Just a guy. Why does it matter?"

"It doesn't."

"Uh-huh."

Perhaps it was just her imagination, but she could have sworn she could hear a trace of jealousy in his voice.

"You like him?"

He was trying to be nonchalant, and although his steps didn't falter, he seemed much stiffer than he usually was. Anyways, it was a completely ridiculous question.

"We just met! Anyways, Why is it any of your concern?"

"Just curious. Can't a person be curious?"

"Well, I don't want to talk about it."

They didn't speak. Relief coupled with paradoxical disappointment flowed through her, almost disappointed that he hadn't persisted but simultaneously glad that he had.

"Is it just me or is it hot in here?" asked Elsa, breaking the silence.

"No, I feel it, too," he said almost immediately, nodding in agreement. "Wanna step outside for a moment?"

"Yes," she said hastily, grateful for the suggestion.

They quickly let go of each other.

—

"Am I the only one who finds it odd how we somehow always end up out here?" asked Hans as the odd pair stood together on their balcony. He sat down on the ledge, watching her.

Elsa ignored his question. "What was that?" she demanded. Out of sight from all the her guests, she no longer had any qualms about breaking her cool facade.

"What was what?"

"Oh, you know what I'm talking about," she said, her eyes narrowing. He was playing dumb; she could tell.

Hans shrugged. "What's the big deal? I asked you to dance which in case you've forgotten, we've already done on several occasions before this."

He had a point, but she wasn't going to let it go that easily.

"What's the big deal?" she asked incredulously. "How's it going to look if I refuse all other invitations and then all of sudden I'm dancing with my sister's ex-fiancé?"

"Last time I checked, people can ask their friends for a dance."

"Yes, but what does it say about me?"

"It was harmless."

Elsa scoffed. "Harmless?"

"Yes, harmless. Will you quit acting like it means the end of the world?"

Allowing him to talk to her in that way was a feat in it of itself. Perhaps she was overreacting, but how could he possibly be so blasé about the entire thing? "Well, it means a lot more than you seem to think it does, so I wish you'd start acting like it."

"That's rich coming from you," he mumbled, refusing to meet her eyes.

She couldn't believe her ears. "Excuse me?"

"You know what I'm talking about. You want to act like all those nights didn't mean anything and then get upset when I play along and try to be friends."

She was fuming. The air suddenly grew cold, the first traces of ice just starting to form along the balcony ledge, but her blood was boiling. "At least I'm not the one getting jealous over some random person you just met! Because that's something friends do, right?"

He laughed humorlessly. "You kissed me, remember?"

Ouch. She fumbled for words, anything that could form a coherent sentence. "That wasn't... I mean, I... That didn't—"

"Mean anything? Clearly, because all that time spent didn't mean a thing to you," he retorted, the bitterness in his tone matching hers.

"I never said that. It means a lot. I just wish it wouldn't mean everything," she said quietly. She liked him, she really did, but she wasn't about to profess her undying love and ride off into the sunset with him anytime soon.

He stood up and began making his way over to the door. "Well, if it didn't, you wouldn't be so eager to run off every time."

"I do not!" she said indignantly, but deep down she knew that he was right. Please don't leave...

To her surprise, he turned around to face her again. "You've been tiptoeing around the issue like it's just going to magically go away."

"I just need some time, ok? I'm busy."

"That's what you always say, but it's been three weeks and it feels like it's hanging in the air for forever."

"That's not forever! That's hardly anything!"

"I figured you'd at least be mature enough to dance with me by now."

"I like you, but there's a time and place for everything." He needed to understand that.

"And by that I assume you mean late at night, hidden away so nobody sees you with me and gets the wrong idea?"

Hans came towards her again, but she stood her ground, refusing to back down.

"We both agreed it was a mistake."

"Did we?" He asked mockingly. "I'm sorry if the details are a bit fuzzy to me right now; it's been so long."

He was right up close to her now, their faces mere inches apart, and it wasn't until then that she realized just how tall he really was. Or how handsome, his features striking in the dim moonlight, green eyes dark and boring right into hers.

"You know," he added, "we wouldn't be in this situation if you didn't kiss me and then run for the hill every time you see me; I'm getting whiplash trying to figure out what you want from me."

His words stung like an open wound. "I don't want anything from you, Hans," she hissed, the ice climbing still further, icicles starting to grow from the surface, their points wicked sharp and glinting dangerously in the light. She could do just fine without him. She didn't have to take this crap.

"Well, that's fine by me!"

"Fine," she snapped.

"Fine."

"Fine," she said again, and there was a note of finality in her voice that he did not challenge. The ice stopped, icicles suspended in the cold air around them, their breath coming out in clouds. For a moment, neither of them moved; they just stood there, looking at each other with unreadable expressions. Finally beginning to realize what had just happened, Elsa bowed her head, unable to look at him. "Sorry," she mumbled, turning to leave, feeling ashamed and heartbroken as tears began to well up in her eyes, but she blinked them back. She wished she could take it all back right then, but there was no way in hell they could just brush aside an argument of that magnitude.

"Elsa."

"Yes?" She looked back at him, a small glimmer of hope in her eyes and in her heart, but she fought to keep it down. All she could do was wait for him speak.

He gave her a small smile, but his eyes were sad, and she could feel her heart breaking.

"You look really pretty tonight."

A/n: They're arguing, it must mean they're in looooove. Also I don't think I could continue writing Hans as such a passive Beta male for much longer, hence the outburst.

You guys will like next chapter, trust me.

Also about the familiar face we just got introduced to, I've been thinking of bring a bunch of those characters into the story, but they're going to be more prominent in the second part. Although they're going to be adapted more to fit the story which is why Frosty is a prince (Also you can see me accidently projecting my bi headcanons onto characters galore).