Author's Note: This chapter hurt my heart to write, but if it wasn't obvious by now I have a very serious preference for writing strong sibling-bond relationships. My own brothers are incredibly important to me and gave me so much purpose in my life that almost all of my stories have some form of a sibling relationship featured in them. Family is imporant, but siblings are like the other halves of you when you can't stand up on your own. But anyway, there will be a happy ending for this story. Apologies for the first real "helsa moment" being buried between a grieving kingdom and an injured queen lol.

Hans had expected to be welcomed back to his brother's kingdom by death and screams as those that still rang like clear, sharp bells in his memory. Ansa's cold hand had snaked up his spine like venom and reduced him to nothing more than a instrument to her evil - forced to watch and unable to do anything as his brother's subjects fell under the whim of their wrathful queen. More than anything and any feeling he could have ever possessed in the world - he hated Ansa for what she'd done to them. Those feeling had boiled up in his stomach and came out in the vile of his mouth. Though he could say nothing, his eyes were blackened by his rage, and gave all the more reason for the poor, defenseless souls of the Isles to both fear and cower before him during their final hours.

Damn you Ansa…

Even though her presence had long since removed its thorns from his body, he felt his anger for her. Her betrayal had been monstrous, and one he could not have stopped despite his efforts. More than anything, he still held resentment against himself for what he'd done to the kingdom and to his brother.

To Elsa…

She had taken up arms with her sister since their departure on the shore of the Isle docks. A lump had settled itself in the center of his throat and refused to leave. Once they reached the city itself, he could hardly contain the anxiety crawling into his body. Elsa rode with her sister this time, making a point to note their welcome might not be as kind. He did not protest, and hastily took lead so as to act as a shield to the sisters once they arrived at the gates.

As they came to a slow stop at the gates, he turned around on Sitron to look back at the two. Elsa was weak from her injuries - she needed medical attention. He had to see his brother.

"Take her to the left wing of the first floor - if no one comes to help you, the third door with the sparrow above the stone. It's our guest quarters. Take your sister," he paused to reflect on Elsa's half-lidded, weary expression. She looked up at him in unspoken fear. His jaw ticked. "You'll be save, I swear it," he reassured them both.

Anna nodded before wrapping her arms around her sister and guiding the Isles horse behind Hans. Winter obediently fell in trot beside them, still concerned about her mistress despite her own injuries.

Hans dragged his eyes away from the wounded queen to face the yawning entrance. The massive doors were still slightly ajar, just as they'd left them. A sharp spike of anxiety struck his chest again when he recalled his last memory walking through those cursed gates. Ansa had brought down the night from the sky to choke the life out of the unsuspecting guards inside, then had proceeded - mad and relentless - to the atrium where a group of innocent women, men, and children had their souls taken right from their body.

He slipped off his saddle and pushed the heavy door open enough to lead the three horses and the sisters inside.

Rather than be greeted by the bodies they had all seen before, the grass was nothing more than an empty stretch of green circling the stone steps. It looked as if no one had touched the courtyard. Then, his eyes found a telltale crumbling of broken stone at the base where Ansa had struck her magic at a particularly frightened guard. Another flash. He clutched his balled fist to his chest and cautiously re-entered the barren grounds of his brother's castle.

From the beginning courtyard to the atrium, not a soul could be seen. Hans could feel no beating heart in his chest, nor the thrum of his veins - just an unsettling hum that crept over his body and tightened him. He furrowed his brow together and continued forward, all the while checking back to the sisters to make sure they were okay. Elsa's eyes were shut.

Hans picked up his pace until they reached the staircase that led up to the throne room. Another knot in his throat that budded in his chest and swelled upward. He could hear voices, though vague, coming from the throne room. He held up a hand to Anna, who pulled on her reins to stop her horse. Winter's hooves tapped against the stone a few seconds then fell still as well.

After another muffled sound, the door at the top of the staircase swung open and on the threshold stood Hans' second eldest brother, Albert, whose wide eyes immediately latched to his youngest sibling with eager surprise. For a moment Hans thought his brother intended to pull his sword. For all he knew, none of the subjects nor his own brothers knew the truth behind the castle attack. He could still be an enemy in his sibling's eyes. After tense pause, the surprise on Albert's weary face slowly shifted to relief as he hurried down the steps and threw his arms around Hans for the first time in nine years.

At first, he wasn't sure how to respond. His brothers had been gone for so long he'd forgotten what their concern felt like, much less their affection. A surge of emotions hit him like a solid stone wall as he relented to his sibling's hold with a choke of breathe, gripping him so hard he pulled the fabric of his jacket. Albert stepped back after a long moment of hesitation and looked him over. He smiled, though Hans could see his green eyes were still seared by anguish.

"Hans," he breathed out. "I'm so glad you're safe - we feared…" he dropped the end of his sentence when he decided it was too upsetting to dwell on. His face then fell as he considered the "we" that both Hans and he knew of. Kasper.

"How is he?" Hans dared to ask. Albert just shook his head slowly and turned his eyes away. Anna had already begun to climb down from her horse, still trying to hold her partially unconscious sister up so she wouldn't fall off. Immediately both Hans and Albert rushed to their aid, his second brother being the taller and more capable of pulling the queen from her perch. She was so weak she hardly opened her eyes as they lifted her down from the saddle and wrapped her arms around Anna's shoulder.

"This must be Queen Elsa," Albert mouthed in slight surprise. He looked to Hans in questioning, who was busy making sure Anna had a good hold of her sister. Anna waved him off when he tried to offer his arm again to help her stand.

"I can find the guest quarters on my own, you should go see to your brother," Anna told both of the men when they continued to stand around in unsure silence for the Arendelle sisters. Albert glanced to Hans.

"Where are the bodies?" he forced the words out like a bile through his teeth. Albert's face tensed up as if he didn't understand the question.

"Bodies-?" he paused, his face paling, then raised both brows in surprise. "Oh! Come, quickly-" he jumpstarted back into motion and began climbing up the steps, only stopping to turn his attention to Anna. "Are you certain-?" he started, but Anna waved him off with her free arm, toting her sister along like a limp rag doll on her shoulders. Elsa was conscious enough to take slow, small steps, though kept her head dipped so they couldn't see the pain she was in.

"I'm fine, I'll follow right behind," she persisted. Hans gestured for Albert to just leave it be, and the two brothers led up the steps with Anna close behind. As Hans came closer to the door, the muffled sound of voices increased to a crescendo. As they stepped into the hall, he was greeted by a warm glow of both candlelight and torches lit along the walls. Inside citizens and servants alike hurried to and fro, tending to the many injured placed on makeshift beds and blankets sprawled in the massive hall. Hans was taken aback for a moment by the sight, recognizing quite a many of the people he had watched Ansa suck the very souls from.

"H-How?" he could barely breathe out the words as Anna finally made it up the steps and both sisters raised their heads to the bustling throne room. Elsa's eyes opened wide once she took in the hall, and in her sudden enthusiasm she tried to stand and walk forward, only to let out a cry of pain and retreat back to her sister's outstretched arm. Hans helped shift her back to a proper position and guided them both around the crowded hall and towards the left wing of the castle, his eyes leaving the sight only briefly to make sure Elsa could make it to the room. A nod from Albert drew the attention of two supervising maids, who quickly followed after the two in order to attend to the wounded queen.

Without a word, Albert guided Hans past the crowd to the staircase leading up to the king's room. Once they were on the second floor, Hans' relief was quickly sucked dry by the gloomy sight of his brother's door - still singed by Ansa's magic - and shut tight. Albert paused outside of the door, his hand tensed on the handle. He sighed.

"Hans, I know you're probably hoping for the best, but…." he shook his head and looked down again. "He is not doing well," he finished. His eyes finally found his brother, broken and tired. Out of all the brothers, Albert had inherited the most of their mother's kind features. He could see her same concern wrinkled in the exhausted shape of his face as he looked to his youngest brother and frowned. "I fear he will not last much longer. We were able to save the people of the Isles through sheer luck of time, but this…" he looked to the door again, his voice lowering. "There is no magic to cure a broken king's heart."

"May I speak to him alone?" Hans inquired after his brother had finished. Though Albert looked surprised by the bold demand, he did not question it. A look exchanged between the siblings before the elder opened the door and stepped aside to allow him past.

Inside the room was solemn and sick. While some of the scattered furniture and belongings had been swept to the side, the majority of the room was still in shambles. The bed had been cleared off to rest the mighty king in his tomb, and as Hans approached with the fear of a small child, he saw the image of his brother had been diminished to a graying corpse. The light had left his eyes almost entirely, and his skin cracked with black veins. His lips were split and dry, though he refused water that the tending maids continued to offer him. After a nod to excuse themselves, the king's servants left the room and shut the doors behind Hans and his brother.

"H-Hans…" Kasper's voice was like dry stone against sand. Empty, lost. He rolled his faded eyes around in their sockets, then finally fell upon the object he sought. Hans stood to the side with slightly crossed hands, fighting to keep calm. He'd never seen his brother so weak and vulnerable. The sight sent tremors of pain and anger crawling back up his arms as he remembered that Ansa had been the one to cause this. Then, breaking the surface of his frustration, he remembered that he, too, had been the reason behind his sibling's demise. The lump returned to his throat.

"Brother…" he muttered the words in a croak, unsure if he deserved to even approach the fallen king. Kasper reached persisting hands blindly into the air until Hans was forced to move forward and let him catch his arm.

"You're freezing," he immediately pulled his hand away once it met the cold ice flesh of his sibling. He rolled his eyes back towards Hans, straining to express his concern and relief within the broken lines of his face. Hans said nothing, then decidedly sat down on the bed beside him while pulling his arm away.

"I'm back," he relented in a small voice. He could feel the grief already climbing to the surface, threatening to spill from his mouth in a sputter of unspoken torments. This was partly because of him, and nothing could take that away. Ansa came within a breath of destroying everything and everyone he had ever cared about. If Elsa hadn't come to find him…

His fingers clenched into the sheets of his brother's bed, briefly sparking white around his fingertips. He released his hold and forced himself to level his gaze with Kasper's. The truth tumbled from his mouth before he could take the terrible words back. Kasper deserved to know. His guilty conscious demand that he confess what little he had done to help his brother or their people.

"Elsa saved me from a fate far worse than death, and our kingdom. If she hadn't helped, I-…I don't know what would have happened. I did nothing to stop it," he couldn't face his brother's confusion. It twisted the guilt like a knife into his chest. "If I had acted sooner, this might have all been prevented; you might not have-" he stopped when he couldn't finish his sentence. The words were bubbling in his throat, threatening to shorten into a sputter of tears. He put a thumb and forefinger to the bridge of his nose and battled with his subconscious to collect himself. Kasper's shaking hand reached up to pull his hand away from his face and, despite the cold, turned Hans to face him. Once he'd looked up again, he was surprised to see a small smile threading across Kasper's lips.

"I'm so glad you're safe, Hans…" he squeezed his arm with tears stinging his eyes. "Elsa has done much to protect you and this kingdom as her own," he continued, then paused when Hans' face fell and he turned away. "She is all right, is she not?" he asked. Hans nodded, though solemn, and kept his head dipped.

"She risked her life to save me," he clasped his hands and looked down. "I couldn't find a way to repay her if I tried for the rest of my life." Despite the grave tone of his voice, Kasper just smiled and patted his arm again.

"She is a good woman, Hans - you would do well to keep her in your sight," he spoke clearly despite the premature age in his voice. After a pause he coughed and shifted uncomfortably. Hans turned back to reach tending hands for his sibling, only to have them waved off after another dry cough bubbled up from the king's throat.

"I should have you read my will at my funeral; though I'll tell you now what I shall have done-" he began. Immediately panic entered Hans' chest as he seized up and sat back from Kasper, shaking his head profusely.

"No, Kasper - you're fine look, I'm back. Our people are fine," he gestured to the door. "You'll get better the same as they did," he frantically rushed to keep his brother from talking such nonsense, though in his soul he knew the answer that already began to peel from the cracked lips of the solemn king.

"No, I won't Hans…" he persisted, then turned his gaze away in an attempt to hide budding tears. "Ansa has taken the little left of my heart, and soon my body will go with her…" he sounded older than Hans had ever remembered, his voice a cavernous echo in the empty room. "I will die and join Mother and Father in the heavens tonight." Hans clenched his jaw shut so tight it ached. His vision was blurring. "But before that happens, you must hear yourself what my final wishes are, little brother…" he reached out to take hold of Hans' sleeve again, his eyes searching to find him in his weakening vision.

"Okay.." Hans' voice was small and frail, the same as when he was a child being scolded by Kasper for running off into the woods past curfew. His brother had always been a constant reminder at his back, a guardian shadow to look after him. Now, Hans could see his own shadow looming over his brother's withering form as he faded away right before him. Tears wavered but never fell from his eyes as he clutched his brother's arm and listened carefully to the dying words of the king.

When the sun had fallen behind the castle walls into dark slumber Hans left the room with empty eyes down-turned to the hallway. Albert had waited the entire time on a bench in the hallway, and stood to attention the moment his sibling closed the door shut behind him. One look told him all he needed to know, and after a slow stop on his heel, he turned his pained gaze to order the servants to take the king's body to the lower chambers for preparations. One of the maids stuttered on a sob as the other guided two others into the room to retrieve Kasper's body.

Hans did not pause to speak or raise his head to Albert. Instead, he turned and disappeared like a ghost down the hallway, rushed down the stairs, and slipped past the low burning lanterns and sleeping refugees of the throne room to the door with the sparrow carved overhead. The castle was quiet and dark - outside the stars painted the clear sky overhead and bathed the city in moonlight. The skies welcomed his brother into their arms.

Upon entering the room, Anna woke with a start from beside her sister and turned to their intruder. When she saw it was Hans, she quietly rose to her feet and absented herself from her sister's bedside. Elsa was awake now, though her arm bandaged and a half-dozen pillows set behind her head to elevate her injured back. The moment she caught sight of Hans - frightened, distraught, and wide-eyed - she nodded to Anna and allowed her younger sister to excuse herself from the room.

Once the door was shut and they were alone, Hans strode across the room and stood over Elsa while shuddering on his breath. Tears shined in his eyes as he fell to his knees and sunk his head into the comforter at her side. Under the sheltered embrace of Queen Elsa, Hans surrendered himself to his anguish and wept for the loss of his brother and king. He cried until his tears were spent, then simply rested there in numb silence.

Eventually Hans' weakened body gave in, and with Elsa's coaxing he rose up and shifted into the large bed beside her, resting his head on a pillow she placed across her lap. It was there the thirteenth prince stayed, shadowed under the gaze of his silver-haired guardian as she ran her fingers through his red hair and whispered kind reassurances to his ear until he stopped shaking.

You're safe.

I'm right here.