Chapter Fourteen

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: Arachnerd, SetsunaKou: *blushing* you guys are the best. Thank you so much. I'm glad I was able to communicate some of the truth I've received in a beautiful way; that's all I've ever wanted to do with my stories, and I'm so grateful to hear that my writing meant so much to you.

Monday found Kristoff sitting in a dusty old study in some obscure corner of the castle, peering through his glasses at nearly two-dozen sheets of paper. The legal language was just about giving him an aneurism, and it didn't help that he was hardly able to concentrate on the report at all.

All he could think about was Anna. Or, rather, how unsuited he was for her. Sure, he loved her to death- but was that enough? He wasn't just marrying some farmer girl or a miller's daughter; he was marrying the crown princess of Arendelle, the sole heir to the throne in the case anything unfortunate happened to her beloved sister. That meant that he was going to be the crown prince: the heir to the rule of Arendelle. A potential king. Heaven knew Kristoff wasn't a king. Sure, he was smart—in a common-sense sort of way. Yeah, he knew business and persuasion and all those tricks of the trade—but how helpful would they be as a member of the royal court?

You're driving yourself nuts, he could almost hear Sven say in his head. Anna loves you, doesn't she?

But whoever said that that was enough? What if he wasn't good enough for the throne? What if he wasn't good enough for Anna? What if one day, she caught on that her big, bumbling oaf of a husband was the furthest thing from a prince? What if one day, she finally saw he was just some bumpkin who got lucky when he walked into the trading post that crazy July day? What if one day, she woke up and realized she'd made the biggest mistake of her life?

"There you are!"

He just about fell out of his chair. Starting and turning to the left, he saw Anna herself smiling at him. Was it just his imagination, or did she look a little nervous?

"I've been looking for you everywhere," she said, plopping down in the armchair beside him. "I need your help."

"Huh? With what?" Already he was beginning to surreptitiously move his papers into a stack and take off his glasses, preparing to leave.

"It's Cook again. She wants you to taste the main dishes she has to see which one we should have?"

"Just tell her to take the one you like," Kristoff said, standing up. "I trust your judgment." In food, at least.

Anna frowned slightly. "Hey… you feeling okay?"

"What? Oh, yeah. I'm fine. Why?"

"Well…you were missing all yesterday, and the day before that, and before that…" She bit her lip, standing up and clasping her hands in front of her. "I'm just worried about you."

His stomach twisted even tighter. Great. He'd made her worry about him. Some fiancé he was. "I'm fine," he said again. It came out sounding less sincere than he meant it to.

"You sure?" she said doubtfully.

"Yeah, I'm sure. Would I say it if I weren't sure?" He was hoping she'd take his slightly annoyed tone as her hint to leave.

"Well, sometimes you try to, y'know, just ignore stuff like that, and besides, I feel like you've been hiding from me." When he didn't answer right away, her frown deepened. "What, have you?"

"No, I- no, of course not."

"Then why do you keep disappearing whenever I try to find you?" she said, crossing her arms.

"I've been—busy."

"Busy with what?"

"Things!"

"Kristoff, I know you're trying to avoid me!" she insisted, finally laying her cards on the table. "Why? At least give me an answer!"

"Look, Anna, I just need some time to myself, okay?" Kristoff said irritably, turning to go.

"I've given you time! I've given you plenty of time!" she said, finally fed up. "I feel like I haven't seen you all week! Kristoff, what is going on?" she grabbed at his shirtsleeve, but he yanked his arm away.

"Look, can't you just leave me alone?!" he demanded, whirling around. "All you ever do is nag me and I'm getting pretty sick of it!"

Anna took a step back, stunned. "…S-sorry," she said, voice small. "I-I didn't realize…"

"Yeah, well…" Her eyes were so sad that he instantly felt guilty, but he didn't want to apologize because he was worried Anna would start pressing the matter, and then everything would really spiral out of control. "Just…let me be, okay?"

"Okay," she agreed quietly. "Um…see ya." She hesitated, and then turned and left.

Kristoff sighed as he heard her footsteps walk away on the carpet. Great. Now he really felt guilty. But at least she hadn't pushed. She hadn't figured it out yet, just how worried he was that he'd be an inadequate prince, an inadequate husband for a princess like her.

But even as he sat down again to his paperwork, he couldn't help but wonder if he even had the right to marry Anna. What made him any better than Hans, really? Wasn't he banking on her kind, unquestioning nature just as much as that creep had? Wasn't he, too, pretending he'd be a good prince? At least Hans had had the proper training. What did he have? A reindeer, a saw, a sleigh and a lute? Practically nothing. That was when the worst thought of all hit: What if Hans had been the better choice?

At any other point, Kristoff would have rejected this thought with a snort. But staring down at a pile of papers and a future uncertain, with guilt twisting in his stomach, the thought stuck. And if a maniac who left Anna for dead could possibly be the more sensible option…

…What did that make him?

Hans, meanwhile, was likewise trying not to be found. The castle gardens were bare and covered in snow, and thankfully empty. Although the air was cold, Hans took off his white gloves and laid them on top of a low brick wall, leaning his elbows on the edge of it with a sigh.

For the past several days, he'd been intentionally avoiding Elsa, making sure to never go anywhere she may be found—the royal chamber corridor, the library, the studies, etc. The tenderness and affection he'd felt that night in the library quite honestly terrified him. He knew that he, of all people, had no right to have any sort of- of feelings for the Arendellian queen. The whole idea was so absurd it would have made him laugh, if the situation weren't so serious.

Wanting to get rid of some of the anxiety, he stepped away from the wall and drew his sword out of its sheath. Walking three steps forward and swinging the blade experimentally, he cut through an imaginary opponent with a cross-body slice and turned a full circle, ending with a finishing blow and a rather pleased, "Hah!"

"Wow!"

He looked over, surprised, and saw the little snowman Elsa had created looking at him with awe. "Oh. Uh–" He tried to re-sheath the sword, missed, and then managed to stick the blade back in its scabbard.

"You're really good!" the snowman exclaimed, wide-eyed and enthralled. "Where'd you learn to do that, huh?"

"Um- I… was trained. When I was younger." Hans had no clue what to say. For goodness' sake, he was talking to a snowman! What did one do in that sort of a situation?

"Oh, that's cool." The little snowman waddled over. "I'm Olaf, and I like warm hugs!" He held out his arms wide.

Hans raised both eyebrows and said, "Er, yes, well… I'm Prince Hans Westergaard of the Southern Isles."

"You're- oh!" Olaf's eyes went wide as he suddenly recognized the man, and Hans looked away, biting his tongue. A moment passed, and the snowman said uncomfortably. "Well…now this is awkward. I mean, you sort of broke my friend's heart and went after my other friend and all that, so…"

"Thank you," Hans said sarcastically, "for captioning the obvious. Now if you'll excuse me–" He made as if to leave.

"Oh no you don't!" Olaf said, jumping off the bench. "You're not going anywhere, buddy!"

"Not to be rude, but you can't really stop me," Hans pointed out, still walking.

"Oh yeah?" The snowman got in front and started to push against Hans's legs in a valiant but futile effort. Hans, a little impressed at his tenacity, actually stopped walking as the snowman started to futilely beat the prince's legs with his little twig fists. Eventually Olaf wore himself out, and flopped down on the ground, leaning with his head against Hans's ankle. "I'll- get- you- next time," he panted out.

Deciding to take pity on the little guy, Hans sat down a nearby bench. "Thanks," Olaf wheezed as he hopped up beside him. "I needed a breather."

"From venting your frustration on my shins?" Hans muttered under his breath.

"Yeah." Olaf looked at him, a very hurt frown on his face. "I just don't get it. I mean, who could ever want to hurt Anna? Or Elsa? I mean, they're the warmest, nicest people I know."

"That makes two of us," Hans agreed, thinking about how willingly Anna had shown him mercy.

"I mean, Anna said you seemed like a pretty nice guy, and then just, wham!" He smacked his little stick hands together. "It just… it doesn't make any sense. Why would anyone do something like that?"

Hans let out a low sigh. "It's… complicated."

"Oh." Olaf frowned again, sitting down on the bench. "Anyways, I don't think I wanna give you a hug anymore."

"I don't blame you," Hans said quietly.

Surprised, Olaf looked over and frowned at Hans slightly. "Hey, you're really sorry, aren't you?" The auburn-haired man didn't answer, but Olaf understood anyway. "Oh, I didn't realize you felt bad about it! I'm sorry; I can still give you a hug, if you want."

Still a little creeped out by the snowman, Hans shook his head warily. "No, that's- that's fine."

"Well, okay then." Olaf's spirits seemed a little uplifted, and he stood up again on the bench. "So you and Elsa are getting married?"

"Um-" He wondered if the Queen had told Olaf about their little 'arrangement,' and decided that she probably hadn't- after all, it was a bit complicated for the obviously very simple snowman, and besides, he didn't seem the sort to be able to keep a secret. "Yes. We are."

"But you don't love each other?"

I suppose you could call it a little one-sided, Hans thought ruefully. "…Not exactly."

"Then why are you getting married?" He seemed truly baffled by this. "Anna and Kristoff are getting married because they're in love."

"It's a political marriage," Hans said, unsure whether to be irritated or amused by the snowman's naivety.

"Ohhh," Olaf said, as if this explained everything, even though he was still clearly confused. "So… isn't that going to be awkward? Since she doesn't like you and all…"

Hans couldn't help but chuckle grimly at that. "Yes, I'd imagine so." He shrugged his shoulders. "But that's just the way things are."

Olaf had adopted a sort of pondering look on his face, a comical expression for him. "Well… why don't you change that?"

Hans looked down, surprised. "What?"

"Sure. I mean, Anna and Elsa weren't very close at all, in the beginning, but now—I mean, they do just about everything together."

"That's different."

"Why? Why couldn't you two be friends?"

Hans was about to retort with the obvious—because Elsa never meant to hurt Anna, because they'd always loved each other and just never showed it, because they're sisters and I'm the megalomaniac who went sword-crazy—when he paused to think about it. Surely, he and Elsa had been far more civil lately, and while pursuing the new development (he still hadn't decided what to call it) was certainly out of the question, there was no reason they couldn't at least be friendly towards each other. And besides, avoiding the woman like she had the Black Death was undoubtedly not the best strategy for fooling his brother.

"You know, Olaf, that's not a terrible idea," he said, surprised. "Thank you."

"Oh yeah, no problem," the snowman said, happy to have been of help. "Well, I'm gonna go talk to Sven; see ya!" He waddled away.

The gears in Hans's mind had started to turn. Friends. They could be friends, or at least acquaintances. Hans hadn't had a friend in a long time—in fact, he couldn't remember an instance in which he could honestly have called someone a trusted companion. He had the feeling that it was the same with Elsa, save of course for her sister and Kristoff.

Perhaps it was possible; after all, he had nothing to lose by trying. He could be charming, kind, generous, fair—everything he'd been with Anna, only this time, it would have to be honest. That was the rub: honesty. Honesty got people hurt. Honesty was a fantastic way to get betrayed, or worse. But then again, he and Elsa were already in on an execution-worthy conspiracy; as before, he had little to lose by trusting her.

Well, he decided, the first thing I should do is stop trying to evade her. But I'll wait until tomorrow, when I've had time to think this through.

And with this thought in mind, he stood up and headed out of the garden.

A/N: Hello, everyone! The semester is finally finished, so I was able to post these chapters this morning. I hope you enjoyed the chapter; please review!