Chapter Thirteen

Disclaimer: I neither own the rights to Disney, Frozen, the Disney universe nor any of its associated media, derivatives or products. I do not profit from this work.

A/N: The * asterisks you see will be to references in the footnotes at the bottom of the page.

"Kristoff!"

The ice harvester looked up, surprised, as the door to his room burst open. Anna waved a cheery hello. "Happy Saturday!"

"Hey, Anna." He felt his stomach twist uncomfortably. Why did she have to be here now? He'd managed to evade her all of Thursday, even after he'd finished his work, and even all of Friday, but apparently she'd tracked him down again. That was his own fault, he supposed; after all, he'd been the one stupid enough to stay in his room too long.

"Whatcha doin'?" she said happily, bounding over to where he was sitting at his desk.

"Uh- just the grain report. Thought, you know, I'd get a head start on it. Don't wanna push it off too long."

"Oh, okay. Well, can you take a break for a little bit?"

"Why?" he said, without committing to an answer.

"I just needed to talk to you about the cake real quick. The cook is wondering if we still wanted the frosted flowers on it, or if it should be changed to snowflakes, since Elsa's 'getting married' too and all." She mimed big air-quotes.

"Um- I dunno, do whatever you want." He stood up, gathering his things.

"Where are you going?" Anna said, frowning a little in confusion.

"Just uh-" Where was he going? He had to think up some excuse. "To talk to some of the families of my guys, y'know, the ice harvesters. Gotta make my rounds."

"Really? That sounds like fun! Can I come with?"

Her expression was so eager that it made his stomach twist even tighter with guilt at having lied to her. "No, I think I should do this on my own."

"Oh…" She trailed off, looking a little disappointed. "Well… have a good time." She offered him a hopeful smile.

He couldn't stand that smile; it made him feel like such a weasel. "Um, yeah. I will. Thanks." He quickly hurried away, shutting the door behind him.

As it clicked shut, Anna's smile faded, and she looked at the wooden paneling of the door. Is he avoiding me?

"-I mean, he just randomly started disappearing all the time, like he doesn't want me to find him, and as soon as I do, he leaves again! What's with that? Do you think he's trying to avoid me? What if I'm annoying him? What if he feels like I'm getting push and bossy? Oh no, what if I am getting pushy and bossy?" She looked down at her companion, worried. "I'm just overthinking this, right?"

The duckling looked back up at her and answered, "Quack!"

She sighed, leaning against the back of the bench. Even in winter, the garden was still beautiful. "Yeah, I know. I must be reading into this too much. He's probably just really busy, that's all." She bit her lip. "But what should I do about it?"

The duckling gave another low quack, and Anna frowned sternly. "No way! I am not going to Elsa about something as small as this! I mean, she's already got enough on her plate, having to pretend she's marrying Prince Shmarming and all that." She huffed, annoyed. "What I wouldn't do to give that guy the old one-two!" She jabbed with her fist into the air in front of her like her little cotton gloves were boxing mitts.

When she looked down again, she saw a line of ducklings following a mother duck stop in front of her. The mother duck honked at her, irritated, and Anna gasped and quickly put the duckling down. "Sorry! Here, ducky; go back with your mama."

The duckling quacked happily, and followed the mother duck and his siblings off into the white wonderland. Anna sighed as she watched them, especially the mother duck. "You're such a good mom," she said wistfully. "Does that just come naturally to you? Is it hardwired into you? Do you think I have that?" A horrible idea dawned on her. "What if I don't? What if there's something just, I don't know, un-motherly about me?"

It was such an awful thought that she quickly covered her hand with her mouth, as if just speaking the words were bad. But what if it were true? Ever since her little talk with the Southern king, she'd been wondering more and more if she were mature enough to get married, have children. As much as she wanted to have that little gaggle of strawberry-blonde toddlers running around, what if she turned out to be a terrible mother? Or worse, what if she were a terrible wife? Sure, she was a good girlfriend and fiancé, but that was a whole lot different than being married to somebody. Normally, she would have talked to Kristoff about this sort of thing, but it was pretty clear that Kristoff didn't want to talk right now.

"One day at a time," she repeated to herself, taking a deep breath. "You can worry about that later. Right now, you need to talk to Cook about the cake."

She stood up, brushed the snow off her skirt, and headed for the garden gate. One day at a time…

Sunday morning was slightly overcast, but no snow fell upon the bustling town, probably by the Queen's design. The bells for morning Mass began to ring around eight forty-five, and again, Hans found himself the first in the church. As he headed for the stairwell, a voice stopped him. "Son?"

He turned, and saw Bishop Willum standing a few paces away. "Your Excellency."

"Please, call me Willum; everyone does. I never could do with all that 'excellency' business. I just wanted you to know that there will be a choir today; the director was a little under the weather last week, but she seems to be up on her feet again now. I'm afraid the loft will be quite full."

"Oh." His heart sunk a little at that, but he rather liked the bishop and didn't want to disappoint him by missing the service. "Yes, well, thank you for informing me." As other parishioners started to file in, Hans took a seat in the middle back, which was a little more in shadows than the rest of the church and, hopefully, not as conspicuous.

His hopes, unfortunately, were unfounded. Despite the fact that he'd chosen to sit in the least noticeable place possible, the churchgoers still all seemed to look right at him as they walked in. The kinder ones appeared surprised, and then quickly glanced away, not wanting to make him uncomfortable; others, however, were less sensitive and gawked openly, while a good portion went so far as to glare at him accusingly. Hans swallowed and tried to ignore them, but it was more difficult than he'd thought. As Anna, Elsa and Kristoff walked into the church, the first of the trio saw him, and her eyes widened, before narrowing again and pointedly looking away.

Eventually, the whole chapel was full—even the row he was in, although the people to his right and left looked rather unhappy about their seating location. As soon as the bishop started the service, the whispers began to fly. Hans tried to pay attention to what was going on, but it was made impossible by the fact that the repetitive Latin was drowned out by the low, angry murmurs. All throughout the readings and chants, he could hear their disgruntled undertones, like an itch he couldn't scratch.

"Today we hear the warning of Johan the Baptist to the Pharisees, and his order to bear good fruits as a sign of repentance…"

He started slightly when he heard the bishop begin his sermon in the common language, but his attention was quickly drawn away again by the muttering. He'd made a terrible mistake, he could see that now. Everyone was staring at him. He could hear their whispers under Willum's drone, to which no one was really paying attention.

"…What is he doing in here?"

"How dare he presume…"

"Murderer."

The last one stung, but others just as quickly followed. He kept his eyes fixed determinedly on the wood grain of the pew in front of him, but it couldn't stop him from hearing their low, accusing inquiries, prickling the back of his neck. He wanted to sink through the floor or run out the door, but neither was much of an option, and all he could do was sit there and feel the heavy weight of shame bend his head lower and lower. He'd been such a fool, to think he belonged here with them, pretending he was a good man when they all knew what he'd done-

"Ahem!"

At the sound of someone loudly clearing his throat, the whispers stopped and everyone turned to look forward, startled. Hans glanced up quickly, and then back down. Willum had stopped speaking, and indeed it was he who had coughed, drawing the congregation's attention back to him. Hans didn't dare raise his eyes again, but he knew what had to be coming, and he felt the humiliation rise hot in his cheeks. Kind though the bishop was, certainly even he wouldn't allow his service to be disrupted by the prince's presence. He sat with his head down, waiting with trepidation for the bishop to clear his throat again and quietly ask him to leave.

"But you know, it's very interesting, isn't it?" Willum said suddenly, in a different tone than before; it was louder, more direct, and caused the prince to look up again in surprise. The bishop folded up the piece of paper with his homily on it as if it were no longer needed and stepped away from the lectern, beginning to pace in front of the altar. "I think perhaps we fall into the trap of believing that these people we read about were perfect," Willum continued, voice pleasant and conversational, but beneath it, there was a steely message that he intended to get across. "They weren't very clean-cut characters, oh Heavens, no. Why, who would have believed that the ancestor of a great nation would be a traitor who sold his own brother into slavery? Or that a beloved king would betray his friend and send him to his death to wed his wife?" Willum paused, and looked straight at Hans. "Or that a prince who had committed a heinous crime, the crime of murder," he said, voice soft, "would one day lead his people from oppression?"

It was so quiet, one could have heard a pin drop.

"No, they were not very respectable people," Willum said, speaking again to the whole congregation, all of whom looked away uncomfortably as he met their eyes. "Many were tax collectors and thieves and even murderers. But strangely enough, when compassion was shown to them, they transformed in spectacular fashion. Where would they be, without mercy—or where would we, for that matter? Just as mercy without justice is dishonesty, so justice without mercy is hypocrisy. We must be careful, therefore, not to become hypocrites, and fall into the trap of believing somehow that we are better than the traitors and sinners. Yet, when forgiveness is chosen over anger, when empathy is employed instead of bitterness, we bring a great change over the world. As we all want to be forgiven, so we, too, must also forgive. That, my friends, is the lesson of today's readings. In fact, it is the lesson of Christmas itself."

The church was dead silent. Willum gave a short nod and walked up to the altar.

And nobody dared whisper again.

When the service was over, the prince was surprised to see that many of the people's attitudes had changed. While a few still shot him dirty looks, many more made it a point to tell him "good morning," or at least awkwardly avoid looking at him. Hans wanted to thank the bishop, but the church was too crowded to get through at the start, and before he could cut through, a hand caught at his elbow.

He looked back, startled, and saw Princess Anna chewing on her bottom lip. "Um, hey," she said, quickly letting go of his arm. "I was wondering…could we maybe talk?"

"Oh- I suppose," he said, startled. "What is it?"

She fiddled with her hands and looked around at the remaining parishioners. Hans understood, and they waited for the others to leave. Once the church was empty, she said, "Listen, Hans…I think there's something I need to say."

His heart sunk at her nervous tone. It was the first time Anna had spoken to him in private since that fateful day in the study. "Princess, I-"

"Just- don't speak, okay?" Anna said awkwardly, wringing her hands. Hans closed his mouth and waited for her to continue. "Look, um… what Willum said, it really got to me, y'know? Like, 'cause everybody messes up, I mean, I know I mess up, although to be fair you really take the cake on that…" She cut off her babbling and let out a sigh. "Look, I know I've been terrible to you ever since you got here."

"I don't blame you-"

"I said not to speak," she cut in, and then apologized. "Sorry. I just need to get this all out before I lose my nerve. So, um… like I said, I've been… I've been pretty mean. And no matter what you did, that's not okay, you know? And… And I want to say that I'm sorry."

He blinked. "You're…apologizing? To me?"

"You…you really hurt me, Hans." His eyes found the ground at this, and Anna bit her lip before continuing. "But I don't like holding grudges, not even against you. So… I'm forgiving you."

Han's mouth fell open in shock, and it took him a moment to find his voice. "Anna- Princess Anna- I don't understand. I- I broke your heart, I left you for dead. You tolerating my presence here is 'forgiveness' enough; you don't owe me your– your trust or your friendship, or anything at all. You don't owe me a second chance."

"I know," she said simply. "And I'm not giving you one. This isn't me saying I trust you, Prince Hans." She met his gaze, and he forced himself not to look away, even though her eyes were beginning to fill with angry tears. "You broke that trust."

"I know."

"Do you? Do you understand?" She crossed her arms as if cold and looked away. When she spoke again her voice was slightly broken. "…It took me a long time to trust anyone again. Even Kristoff. Even Elsa. When someone lies to you and uses you like that—you stop knowing what's true and what's not. You start to think everyone is selfish and cruel, that everyone lies and cheats and manipulates others. You think that's the way the world is."

Hans didn't speak. He'd gone through this conversation a million times in his head, and somehow, it was not playing out in any way he'd imagined. For every time he'd fantasized about her forgiving him completely and absolving him of his sins, there'd been ten self-deprecating visions of her screaming and condemning him, and heaping as much abuse on him as he deserved. Here, in the face of the real thing, both suddenly seemed equally self-serving.

"But then…you find out it's not. You find out most people really are good, and kind. And you realize you don't have to be selfish, to be safe." She looked up. He fought not to look away. "And one night, I thought about that. About how maybe nobody ever proved that to you."

"That doesn't excuse what I did," he said instantly.

"No. It doesn't."

There was a long silence. She stared him down. Her eyes were like pins on a moth; he wanted to run away, but he couldn't.

"You hurt me."

"I know."

"You broke my heart. You broke my trust."

"I know."

"And I'm forgiving you."

"Why?" he demanded. "I haven't done anything to earn it, I haven't–"

"Because it's not really about you," Anna said simply. "Or about me, even. I mean, trust me, if I wanted to feel better about the whole thing, I'd go eat a box of chocolates or something. But…" She sighed. "But, I know what it's like, to feel… shut out. And whether or not you deserve it, I don't want to be the kind of person who does that to other people." Her blue-green eyes were determined. "I don't want to do that to anyone, no matter what. And…you need me to forgive you. Because if I don't, nobody else can, either."

She was so sincere, so fiercely genuine that Hans knew she had to be telling the truth. "You… really want to forgive me?" he said, just to make sure.

"I really do."

He stared, and then bowed humbly. "Princess Anna, I am incredibly indebted to your kindness. If you are willing to pardon me, after all I've done to you and your kingdom… I am grateful, beyond belief."

She smiled sadly. It was an older and wiser smile than he remembered. "This doesn't mean we're friends."

"I know."

"But maybe we could be, someday. I'm willing to let that happen, if you can prove to me you've earned it."

He was so floored by this final bit of kindness that he couldn't speak for several moments, his eyes finally dropping to the carpet. It was a relief to stop staring into the blazing sun of her hurt and her clemency. "…I'm not so ungrateful," he said at last, "as to wallow in my guilt after an offer like that. Thank you. I'd…I'd like to hope that someday, I could earn back your trust. After a lot of hard work, obviously."

"We'll see." And then she patted his arm. "Have a good afternoon…Prince Hans."

She left, and he ran a hand through his red hair, incredulous. It hurt, but it also felt is if a huge weight had just been lifted off his shoulders. As he turned, he saw Willum standing at the door to the sacristy room. "Thank you," he said gratefully, knowing that he'd made this happen.

The older man smiled. "For what?" And he disappeared into the room once more.

A/N: The verse being read for the Gospel is Matthew 3:1-12, the reading used on the second Sunday of advent in liturgical year A.

The Biblical figures referenced here are Judah, King David and Moses, respectively.

I really hope you liked it. : ) Please tell me what you think! Also, happy Santa Lucia Day!