Chapter Eighteen
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.
By the time Sunday morning rolled around again, Elsa had successfully relearned her old habits on how to avoid people in just about any part of the castle. Unfortunately, now that the gates were open and Sunday services were no longer private, she was forced to meet with her Anna and Kristoff for church, along with the rest of the town's populace.
It was Gaudete Sunday,* so the whole chapel had been done up in rose, decorated with large pink banners bearing the Arendelle crocus. As the Queen took her place with her sister and Kristoff, she noticed out of the corner of her eye that in the pew directly across the aisle from them sat none other than the very prince from whom all her new troubles had stemmed. He had glanced at her, too. Both quickly looked away, which made the moment even more uncomfortable, since each knew they'd been seen by the other but neither wanted to openly look. Instead, Elsa busied herself with undoing the silver clasp of her black leather hymnal and flipping to the correct page, deliberately taking more time than necessary to have an excuse to not look up.
The congregation rose as the Mass started. So preoccupied was she with not looking to her left that the movement startled her- especially considering the particular hymn that had been chosen to begin the services. As the singing began, Elsa blinked, surprised, and then looked back down to her hymnal. The page number she was on read quite clearly on the top, Deilig er Jorden.
Her cheeks flushed red, and she glanced around sharply, wondering if anyone else was questioning the irony of the situation. Then, she realized how foolish this was, since only she and Hans had been in the library that evening. Besides, this was a Christmas carol, and after all, it was Christmastide. It was only a coincidence.
Even so, she couldn't seem to make the blush on her cheeks go away.
Elsa took a deep breath and tried to concentrate on singing along with everyone else, before she realized that frost was slowly creeping out from under her hands and coating the pages in thin, swirling designs. She surreptitiously glanced over at Anna to see if her sister had noticed and then hastily brushed the frost off. Calm yourself. Control yourself.
The hour-long service seemed to last an eternity, and as soon as it was over, Elsa quickly fled the church to seek refuge in her room. Quickly closing and locking the door, she let out a sigh of relief, grateful to be out of the public eye. She set the hymnal down on her desk and undid her curled bun, letting the braid fall over her shoulder as she picked up the novel she'd been reading that evening. Despite the fact that she wanted nothing more than to disappear into the pages of the old book, her mind simply could not seem to concentrate. After reading the same line thrice without taking in a syllable, she sighed and closed the novel.
This was two days in a row hiding away and closing herself off from the world. She knew now for certain that she was shutting people out, but what other choice did she have? She couldn't talk to Anna about this, and besides, she and Kristoff had enough to deal with, what with the wedding and all, and Hans… the very idea of speaking to Hans about how she maybe-possibly could be attracted to him was so absurd it was laughable.
She glanced outside her triangular window into the courtyard below, and her heart jumped a little in surprise when she saw that the very man was just below her, walking and talking with some of the parishioners. He seemed to be conversing to one of the servants when, from the opposite direction, the Southern king came up to speak with him. Elsa watched, concerned, although she couldn't hear what was being said.
Down on the ground, Hans bade farewell to the servant and turned to the king. "I imagine you're dissatisfied about something," he said dryly.
Agnar's expression spoke volumes. "You imagine correctly," he said lowly, as the rest of the crowds passed them by. "Why haven't you been speaking with the Queen for the past two days?"
"Well, they say personal space is valuable in any relationship," Hans said, turning to walk with the rest towards the castle.
His brother grabbed him by the shoulder. "Do not trifle with me, Hans," he spat. "Either you and Queen Elsa start getting a lot friendlier, or I start-"
"Making things difficult?" Hans guessed, rolling his eyes.
In a flash, Hans felt the edge of a knife press against his gut. Invisible to any passersby, the blade dug painfully through his suit coat and into his abdomen. "Don't forget that I can still get rid you any time I please," Agnar hissed. "I'm sure any of the others would be more than willing to take your place and woo the queen. Am I clear, Hans?"
The younger swallowed. "Crystal."
"Then here is what I want you to do: spend some time with her. Alone. Take her out for a romantic ride in the woods or some such, I don't care. But when you come back, she'd better be hanging off your every word. Are we agreed?"
"We are."
The knife's pressure vanished, and Agnar smiled in an almost amiable manner. "Glad to hear it." He walked away, leaving the youngest prince to stand there alone.
Elsa was irritated but not surprised when ten minutes later, a knock sounded at her door. "Queen Elsa? Are you in there?"
She sighed and stood up, walking over to unlock the door and open it. "Well? What did the king say?"
"We have to go on a private outing," Hans informed her. "Outside of the town, I mean. Non-negotiable."
"What? No. Absolutely out of the question," Elsa replied, turning back to her work.
"I'm sorry, I'll just go back and tell Agnar you'd prefer planning your own funeral," Hans said sarcastically. "Look, he was very clear: we had to be alone together, without other people."
"But why?" she snapped.
"Because we're supposed to be falling in love," he said, frustrated. "And that's what people who are in love do, they spend time together."
"We are not in love," she spat.
"Well we have to make my brother think that we are. Following his orders is the wisest option."
"I don't consider walking out into the woods alone with the man who tried to behead me very wise at all," she retorted sharply.
That stung. Somewhere along the line, an unspoken agreement had arisen between them that neither would mention what had happened on the fjord in anything but a passing remark; this was practically a personal attack. Hans took a step back, stunned, and then his eyes narrowed. "Fine," he said curtly. "Do whatever you like." He headed for the door. "I'll be down at the stables. Whether you come is your choice- but remember the alternative if you don't." He left.
In the end, Elsa's sense of self-preservation won out over her pride, and she grudgingly went down to the stables. Hans had already readied his horse and was petting the beast's nose when she entered, Elsa having changed from her Sunday best into a more suitable dress for outdoor activity, as well as her pair of black riding boots and a satchel. They didn't talk at all as they led their respective fjord horses out into the courtyard. The trip through the town was similarly silent, each speaking only to indicate where they were going.
Now here they were, in the middle of the forest. They had been riding at least ten minutes in the snowy woods around the castle, heading north, as far as Hans could tell. "I hate the cold," he grumbled, breath freezing into frost in the air. He'd gone much paler due to poor circulation, looking all the more ginger and bespeckled because of it. "Any chance your powers extend to taking the chill away instead of just increasing it?"
Elsa smirked against her will. "Cold is the absence of warmth, Hans; I can't just 'take it away.'"
"And I don't suppose you have the ability to introduce warmth into an area?"
"Hmm," she drawled. "Well, maybe if I had the power to cover the fjords in white sand and warm sunshine, I could. But as it is, no."
"Fantastic," he muttered under his breath. But despite his dislike of being chilled, he had to admit the Arendellian forests did look pretty spectacular in the middle of winter.
"I have news, as it happens."
"Oh?"
She related the news about the waylaid ships. Hans sighed. "That's the whole trouble with spies; communication can be cut off so easily."
"Ah yes, I forgot you had experience in this." He kept his face carefully expressionless, and she rolled her eyes. "I'm not an idiot, Prince Hans. You knew an awful lot about my sister and me before you arrived for the coronation, and our countries have never been particularly…friendly. I've always presumed the Isles had spies in Arendelle."
"For nearly a hundred years," he relented. "Not that my brothers would want me telling you that." She smirked. "So where are we headed?"
"First we're stopping by to see a few old friends," she said, being intentionally vague. "And then we'll head up to the castle."
"The castle- you mean your ice castle?" he said, surprised. "That's quite a trip."
"A full day's worth with our stop," she said, satisfied. "Which is why it works perfectly to get you out of your brother's reach, and both of us out of prying eyes."
"Ahh," he said, suddenly appreciating the genius of the plan. "Clever."
"The way I've timed it, we should be meeting my… friends… by about noon," she calculated. "We'll reach the top of the North Mountain around two, and still be back in time for dinner."
"Oh, Heaven forbid we miss dinner!" Hans said dryly, and Elsa couldn't help but chuckle at that. However, the moment she realized she'd done so, her smile disappeared and her face fell into a slight frown as she glanced away.
After a moment or two, Hans said suddenly, "I want to thank you."
"Thank me?" Elsa said, surprised. "Thank me for what?"
"For taking care of Sitron." He reached forward to pat his horse's neck, and Elsa recalled that it was the same yellowish mount he'd been riding the last time he'd arrived at her ice palace. "I was worried something had happened to him, though of course I had no way to find out."
"Well, he's a perfectly good fjord horse; we weren't about to sell him without need," Elsa pointed out.
"I know. But no one would have blamed you for doing it out of spite." He glanced at her, an earnest look in his eyes. "So…again, thank you."
She looked away, unable to find anything suitable to say except, "Yes, well…you're welcome."
The rest of the ride was as silent as its beginning, and Hans didn't question it. At some point the little hills and valleys of the forest became large canyons with sheer rock-faces. Near-dormant geyser holes let out puffs of steam here and there, and the air seemed warmer. Strangely enough, the snow that had covered most of the country hadn't fallen here, and moss grew in vibrant emerald patches along the ground "Almost there," Elsa called back over her shoulder.
He followed her into a valley filled with what appeared to be spherical boulders, of many sorts and sizes. Elsa pulled her mare to a stop and hopped off, Hans following her lead. "This is it."
"This?" He looked around, frowning in confusion. "Your 'friends' live here?"
"Of course." She walked forward into the group of rocks and called out. "Hello, everyone!"
Hans stared as she continued to speak to no one in particular. "I know you're all hibernating, but I just thought I'd drop by."
"Queen Elsa–" Hans started uncomfortably, wondering if the Queen had temporarily lost her sanity. Before he could finish, however, the rocks started to roll towards Elsa, seemingly of their own accord. He jumped as one nearly knocked him over. "Elsa!"
The rocks suddenly all seemed to pop open or unravel somehow, revealing several stony creatures. Hans's mouth dropped open in shock. What the-
"It's the Queen!" several of the—the whatever-they-weres said excitedly, hurrying over.
"Queen Elsa!"
"Is Kristoff with you?" one of the younger ones demanded eagerly.
Elsa laughed, kneeling down. "No, no. I'm sorry; he's back at the palace. I just thought I'd stop by. Cliff, Bulda, hello!" she exclaimed, kneeling down to greet a pair of the creatures, one male and one female.
"Hello, dear, how are you?" the male, Cliff, asked kindly.
"Yes, tell us what's been happening!" Bulda encouraged her.
Elsa smiled ruefully. "That would take a while."
"Ooh, who's the savory slice of mushroom over there?" said Bulda with a nudge and a wink, nodding in Hans's direction.
Both humans turned red at her implication, and Elsa hurried to say, "A friend. Just a friend."
"And what is this friend's name?" said Cliff with a knowing grin.
The pair hesitated and glanced at each other, reluctant to explain. They were sure the trolls would recognize his name. In the end, Hans steeled his will and walked forward. "I am Prince Hans of the Southern Isles," he said, giving a short bow. "It is a pleasure to meet you all."
When he looked back up, the whole clearing was staring at him. Hans clasped his hands behind his back uncomfortably. "I…take it you've heard of me."
"Ehm, well, you could say that," Bulda said awkwardly. Several of the trolls looked angry, and Hans gulped, imagining just how outmatched he would be in a fight against these stony beings.
"Someone told me the Queen had arrived?"
The trolls all turned, and Hans and Elsa saw an elderly stone-being walking towards them. Elsa curtsied. "Grand Pabbie."
"Queen Elsa, you needn't curtsy to me," he chuckled. "An old troll is all I am."
"An old troll who saved my sister's life—twice," she reminded him, smiling.
"Hm. Well, the second was done on her own." He looked towards Hans. "Good day, young man."
"Grand Pabbie," one of the smaller trolls whispered. "He's-"
"Hush, young one," Grand Pabbie said gently. "This man is our guest. Welcome, Prince Hans. It is certainly interesting to finally meet you." His tone and expression were carefully polite, but Hans noted the adjective.
"It's nearly noon; we'll get you two something to eat," Cliff said to the pair. "We have some lovely fresh moss…"
"Nonsense, Cliff; they can't eat moss!" Bulda said, smacking him on his rocky shoulder.
"It was always good enough for Kristoff."
"Please; he fed it to the pebbles every time."
"Kristoff?" Hans interjected. It was the second time they'd mentioned the name. "As in, Princess Anna's fiancé?"
"The very same," Bulda said fondly. "Our little boy… I've never been prouder. Now, as to lunch…"
After Elsa had managed to assure all of them that she'd brought lunch fit for human consumption in her satchel and dissuade them from any well-meant offers of mushrooms, moss or tree-bark, the trolls finally allowed the pair to sit down on a log and eat their sandwiches. "Ham and cheese," Hans said with surprise as he unwrapped his. "You remembered?"
"I remember everything," she said, in a faux-regal tone. "What do you think of the trolls?"
"I still can't believe it; I've never heard of rock trolls except in fairytales," Hans said, looking around the clearing at the colony of rocky beings. He glanced over at her. "But then again, I'd never heard of ice magic before, either."
"Learn something new every day, hm?"
"The best way to live." He suddenly seemed to notice something from the side. "Would you look at that?"
"Look at what?"
He picked a flower from the ground beside the log and looked at it in wonder. It was a wild red rose, petals flushed scarlet and fresh. "Everything grows here," he said, baffled. "It's as if winter can't even touch this place."
"I don't think it can," she remarked. "Every time I've visited, it's always seemed to be the middle of spring, no matter what time of year. Even my magic is weaker here."
"Remarkable." He held out the rose to her to examine.
She smiled and accepted it. "Thank you," she said, searching through the saddlebag and pulling out her hymnal, which she'd packed on accident. She tucked the rose inside to preserve it, and then glanced over at him again.
Her smile disappeared. Both looked away uncomfortably. Finally, after a second or two, Hans sighed. "What is it?"
"What?"
"For the past several days, you've been incredibly cold, if you'll pardon the phrase—not just to me, but to everyone," Hans said frankly. "Anna in particular has been moping. I think a bit of an explanation is in order."
She saw that he was genuinely concerned, and the iciness inside her seemed to thaw a little. "I know," she admitted tiredly. "I know. I've been shutting people out again. I'm just… a little stressed right now." She didn't tell him why she was so stressed, but then it didn't seem necessary.
Hans nodded. "Fair enough. But if you'd just tell us that next time, things might go a little smoother."
She saw how genuine he seemed, and realized she'd been acting ridiculous. Didn't she know better than anyone how cutting oneself off from the rest of the world led to nothing but bitterness and resentment? And for Heaven's sake, it wasn't as if she literally had to lock her door just to keep a simple secret. Why should anything have actually changed from the night of the pageant until then? "Alright," she agreed, and then grudgingly added, "…Thank you."
"Of course," he said, and then nodded to the sandwich in her hands. "So, what kind of sandwich is that?"
Elsa laughed and glanced down. "Lutefisk."
"What?" he said, chortling in disbelief. "You're not serious."
"It's good!" she insisted. "Why does everyone think it isn't?"
"Because it tastes like soap!"
"It does not!"
They continued bickering and laughing good-naturedly for the duration of their meal. While they ate, Grand Pabbie approached them. "Enlighten an old troll," he said, "what brings you out this way."
Hans glanced to Elsa. "He's trustworthy," she reassured him, and then explained the story in a low voice. When it was over, the old troll nodded.
"I see. Well, I wish you luck in your plan. If you need help, my people will do what we can. However, there is something else which needs discussing." The two exchanged a surprised look. "Queen Elsa, I need to know: to what ends have you been using your powers as of late?"
Elsa blinked. "Nothing too extreme; making ice rinks or snow forts for the children, keeping winter storms away… why do you ask?"
The old troll looked worried. "There is something which has been troubling me as of late, but which I cannot put my finger on. There are signs of magic in the air and sky… but nothing more than signs, no true danger of any sort." He shook his head. "Perhaps it is nothing."
Elsa nodded, looking concerned herself. "I'll keep an eye out. Will you do the same?"
"Of course, my dear. Best of luck."
As Elsa mounted her mare again, Grand Pabbie caught the edge of Hans's coat. The prince glanced back, surprised. "To both of you," he added.
Hans nodded. He understood. "Thank you."
The ride up to the castle took another two hours, so that it was mid-afternoon when they finally arrived at the top of the North Mountain. The sun was shining brightly, glinting off the sides of the ice palace like a diamond in the light. Elsa's spirits rose as it came into view, and she pulled her horse to a halt and quickly got off, hurrying over to the staircase that bridged the gully between the two crevices of the mountain. "Are you coming?" she called back over her shoulder.
Hans chuckled at her enthusiasm and dismounted, walking up to the staircase. As he approached, a pile of snow next to the stairs suddenly shuddered to life, and the prince came to a sudden halt. The giant snow monster that he had fought on his last little trip to the palace clambered to his feet, spikes of ice growing out of his arms. "BAD! MAN!" he roared.
Hans stumbled back and drew his sword. Elsa quickly jumped between the two. "Whoa, whoa, easy there boy," she said to the snow giant, holding up her hands. "It's alright. He's a- well, he's a-" Marshmallow looked like he was getting impatient, so she finally settled on, "-He's a friend."
The snowman wasn't buying it. "Bad man a friend?" he said dubiously.
"Yes. A friend who would very much like to see the castle. May we go in?"
Although he still looked doubtful, Marshmallow moved aside and let them pass. "Bad man?" Elsa questioned, as they ascended the staircase.
He winced. "I… may have been the one who dismembered him." When she gave him a look, he scowled. "I was being attacked by a giant snow monster! You have to give me that one."
"Alright, alright, granted."
Elsa walked up to the front doors and pushed them open, breathing a deep sigh of contentment. She strode inside, looking incredibly in her element. Hans followed, holding his breath, feeling almost as if he were intruding on something incredibly personal and may at any moment be forced to leave. He looked up to the vaulted ceilings, the crystalline walls, the flawless creation, and felt himself as awed as he had been the first time. "May I take a look around?" he requested of the queen, who was climbing the stairs.
"Be my guest. If you need anything, just call." She disappeared behind an ice wall. Hans followed her up, running a hand along the smooth railings. As Elsa started up another flight of stairs to the third floor, he began to walk along the familiar hallway in the second story.
His feet seemed to know their way, for he found himself in the large, empty room where a year and a half ago he'd found the queen defending herself. It seemed that she'd repaired the chandelier and the doorway to the balcony. The bright sunshine streamed through it and lit the palace up in a stunning array of azure and cerulean. Clearly this was Elsa's favorite room, as she'd embellished it since the last time he'd been in it with beautiful ice-carved designs, imitating both flowers and snowflakes, as if summer and winter had come together in perfect harmony.
"Do you like it?"
He turned and saw the Queen herself standing in the entrance to the room. She'd changed (or perhaps simply created) for herself a simple yet flattering sky-blue dress and sheer cape, with a long skirt, an Arendellian bodice and that not-quite-Victorian style of collar she seemed to favor. She'd let her pale blonde hair fall down loose about her shoulders, and was holding her tiara in her hands.
"Like it?" he said, turning back to look around the room. "It's incredible." He glanced back, smiling. "I can see why, considering who created it."
She chuckled slightly at that and walked to his left behind him. "Flattery will get you nowhere, Prince Hans."
"Oh, no," he teased. "You're much too clever for that, aren't you, Queen Elsa?"
"Hm. Well, that isn't to say that flattery doesn't occasionally conform to the truth." She waved her hand, and a Hellenistic-style pillar arose from the ice. Another wave created what looked like a small chest on top of it. She opened the chest and placed her crown inside.
"You know, I've never seen you with your hair down before," Hans commented, turning to her.
"I let it down whenever I come up here."
"As well as your crown?" She nodded. "Why?"
Elsa smiled a little and shrugged. "Up here, I'm not a queen."
"I think the magic ice castle begs to differ," he deadpanned.
She shook her head. "A castle and a crown don't make a woman a queen," she said, crossing in front of him. "Her subjects do. And, every now and then, I really enjoy pretending that I don't have subjects. I love them to death, of course, but sometimes it seems I have to solve a lot of disputes they could settle for themselves."
"Getting up here every now and then must be a real relief," he agreed with a chuckle.
"You have no idea." She glanced back, smiling. Their eyes met.
—"Queen Elsa!"
Her face was full of a deadly determination, fueled by panic turned to fury at these men who'd feared her, accused her, attacked her. Elsa hated them, hated everyone and everything that had ever condemned her as a monstrosity. The blood had rushed to her head, white-hot anger searing in her chest as she willed the ice to take her revenge. She could hear nothing but the pounding in her ears, except–
Except, perhaps, a voice behind her, saying firmly yet gently, "Don't be the monster they fear you are."
She stopped, turned. Prince Hans stood there, a hand outstretched. Their eyes met.
For a long moment, she stared. Out of the corner of his eye, Hans saw one of the Westleton guards raise his crossbow. In the split second that followed, he realized that this moment was the answer to all his problems: the Queen would be dead. He would find Anna and take the throne, as he'd always intended. He would be a king in his own right; everything would finally fall into place.
But the Queen would be dead.
He made his decision instinctively, his conscience overruling his meticulous planning, and to hell with the consequences. He dove forward and knocked the crossbow upwards towards the chandelier, intent on ending the confrontation before anyone else could get hurt. The arrow shattered the rope of ice from which hung the room's massive chandelier, and the icy fixture crashed to the ground as Elsa tried desperately to get out of the way. The blow knocked her from her feet, and as her head slammed into the ice, everything snapped to black.—
The memory faded, and Hans knew from Elsa's expression that she had remembered the same thing. For a long moment, neither spoke.
Then, Elsa turned away, wringing her hands. "…Why?" she asked finally.
"What?"
"Why did you save my life?"
"I tried to crash a chandelier on y–"
"You knew it wouldn't kill me." He fell silent. "I know you knew it. I saw you look at the chandelier before you grabbed the crossbow; if you'd wanted me dead you would have just let him shoot me." Hans didn't answer. "You wanted me unconscious so you could take me back to Arendelle. What I can't figure out is why. It would have worked out perfectly for you. I would have been dead, the kingdom would have been yours, and you wouldn't have been to blame…why would you go against your own plan?"
"My plan," he said with a sigh. He struggled to find some way to answer for a moment, before he decided that being honest was the least he owed her. "Elsa… you have to understand, I didn't…I didn't make the decision to kill you all at once." He shook his head. "It wasn't even the plan in the beginning; I didn't come here with the intent to kill you—actually, I came to court you. After all, marry a queen, become a king, that was the idea." He paused, and then continued softly, "…But when Anna so willingly offered me path to the throne, I started to think about what that would mean. At first I rejected it, but then Anna disappeared–"
"So is that it, you saved me so you could court me?" she demanded, face flushing an angry red.
"No! That was—yes, I won't deny I was considering it, but that was not the motivating factor!" His expression was growing desperate. "Your people were suffering; I thought you could stop the winter without having to—it's not as if I had some desire to see you suffer! But when I found out you couldn't end the storm–"
"Don't lie to me." An icicle shot out of the ground so fast that he stopped short; the glittering knife-tip was pointed at his throat. He looked past it to Elsa. "I know what you said to Anna," she said, breathing hard. "I know what you told her in that study. You wanted her to suffer."
"I…"
"Tell the truth."
His heart was hammering. Her blue eyes had pinned his down, like dead butterflies, her gaze sharper than the icicle.
"…Anna used me too, Elsa."
Her gaze snapped wide. "What?!"
"She used me to fill the hole in her heart that you left there." His face suddenly hardened, and he stepped around the icicle, knocking the end off with his gloved hand. "You want the truth? That's the truth. Yes, I strung her along once I realized she wasn't just flirting for politics like I was, but you know what, it was really easy to do that once I learned she wasn't interested in a damned thing about me. And then she came back looking for a true love's kiss. A true love's kiss! She thought she was in love with me after three days!"
"And that's her fault?!" Elsa snapped.
"Partially, yes!" Her expression was one of incredulous fury, and he gestured futilely. "I thought that Anna and I were playing the same game, give something to get something, and I was just better at it than her! I was a means to an end for her just like she was for me!"
"How dare you…"
"And then she was dumb enough to go after you when you ran away! Both of you left me to deal with your mess! And you know what? I was good at it! I was as good at it as I'd always known I could be! And then she came back, after all the work I'd put in, when I was so close. She could have taken everything from me, do you understand?" His voice had lost its anger and had turned desperate. "She wanted true love, expected true love from me, when she didn't care anything about me! And it infuriated me that if I didn't live up to that ridiculous expectation she was going to take Arendelle away from me–"
"Don't you dare insinuate that Arendelle was ever yours!"
"Your people needed a king." The words were pouring out now, too fast to stop them, every horrible confession. "They needed someone, and they were all looking to me. For the first time in my life people were looking to me to lead them, can you imagine what that felt like? But then Anna came back and it was so obvious she was going to die, I couldn't have saved her, but I could still save myself. All I had to do was convince the council I had a claim to legitimacy, just one little lie and then—and then all I had left was to end the winter." His voice faltered. "I would have been their hero."
"You tried to kill my sister!" Her voice broke with anger and grief. But Hans shook his head.
"I didn't know about the mountain man; to me, Anna was already doomed. I needed the council to believe my claim and since she was already dying, I didn't—I told myself that hurrying up the process didn't really count as murder." His face was burning with shame. "I couldn't let her take away everything I'd worked so hard for. And you—Elsa, you'd cursed the kingdom, your people were looking to me to fix the problem. They needed me. In my mind I already was their king; everything I'd ever wanted was at my fingertips. You were the only thing standing in my way."
Elsa had turned away from him, unspeaking. He could tell from her posture that she was pinching the bridge of her nose. "Elsa–"
"Then why did you save me?"
Her voice was low and rasping, half a whisper. He stared, half-dumb, spent.
"…Because I was too weak to do what my brothers would have done the first time." His words, low and exhausted, still seemed to ring through the hall. "As you know, I didn't make the same mistake twice."
Silence. Snow had begun to drift from the ceiling, falling in faint, thin crystals through the air.
"You wanted the truth. That's the truth." He gestured hopelessly. "I know how this sounds because I can hear it now. I wasn't owed a crown, or a wife or glory; I'm not trying to justify myself by telling you this. I know that none of this—none of this excuses what I did to you," he said hoarsely. "I was cruel to Anna, to both of you. And yes, I…I tried to kill her, and you. There is no excuse for evils like that." Suddenly, it all poured out, everything he'd wanted to say since the moment he'd seen her in the throne room: "Elsa, I despise what I did you and your sister with every fiber of my being. And I know I have no right to ask you this, not after everything. But I—I've changed, I have. And I know you can't right now, but—I am begging you, someday, to…to consider…"
"If you were going to ask if I can ever forgive you," her voice breathed, wavering, "then don't finish that question."
Hans didn't speak.
"Get out," she whispered.
"What?"
"Get out of my castle. Now."
She heard him let out a low breath, crushed. "…Yes. Of course," he said quietly. There was the sound of footsteps as he walked through the hall and down the stairs, and then a great creak as the doors opened and closed again.
Elsa tried to keep away the memories, the accusing thoughts, but she was powerless against them. They swarmed in her head like angry bees, stinging her again and again. Good people don't commit murder, the little voice quoted tauntingly, in this very room where she had been so close to becoming no different from him. They just don't. Isn't that right, Elsa?
She squeezed her eyes shut. The snow began to blow around her, swirling and bitter, and she didn't bother to stop it. Too much. It was all just too much…
Outside, Hans closed the door to the castle and stood on the doorstep. Leaning against the door, he unknowingly copied Elsa's posture. "You fool," he muttered to himself, expression pained. "When will you-"
"-ever learn?" Elsa demanded of herself, voice lost in the winds.
"You ruin everything you touch."
A/N: *Guadete Sunday: the third Sunday of advent, typically marked by rose decorations and rose robes for the priest.
As you can see I edited this from the original; I wanted more of a confrontation between the two of them. Hope you enjoyed it! Pax et bonum!