Chapter Twenty-Nine

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.

"Do you hear that?"

Gerda glanced over at her husband. "Hear what?"

"Exactly," the head footman said, looking around in wonder. "It's dead quiet."

"He's right," Hans said from nearby, cocking his head to the side and frowning. "There's no wind." The prince hurried over to the nearest window and looked out. Up above him there glinted hundreds of silver stars. "The storm is gone," he said, turning around.

"We should go tell everyone," Gerda said quickly, making as if to move towards the sleeping villagers.

"No," Hans said quickly, catching her by the shoulder. "Let them sleep; they can all return home tomorrow."

"After the wedding, Sir?"

"I-" The question had caught him off guard. "Yes. After the wedding." He let go of her shoulder and patted it. "I'll go tell Anna and Kristoff- and the Queen as well. You two rest."

"Thank you, Prince Hans," Kai said with a smile. Hans felt his stomach twist guiltily; once again, he was about to betray all these people, even though it was now for the right reasons.

In the end, it was not Anna and Kristoff he found first, but Bishop Willum instead. The older man looked exhausted, but he was still checking on the many families still in the Great Hall. He looked over as Hans approached, surprised. "Prince Hans. Is there something I can help you with?"

"The storm's blown over," Hans said shortly.

The bishop's gray eyes widened slightly in understanding. "You're leaving."

"I am. I'm glad I caught you; I wanted to thank you before I went."

"Thank me?" Willum said, surprised. "Thank me for what?"

Hans shrugged slightly. "You were the first one who gave me a chance."

Willum smiled a little at that. "Just doing my job, my son." He glanced towards the windows. "You should leave shortly, in case the storm starts up again."

"I know; I'll be on my way soon."

"Well then, I wish you best of luck. And remember, you will always be welcome in a house of God."

"Thank you. Do you know where I can find the princess and Sir Kristoff?"

Willum considered this. "Check by the fireplace; last I saw, the princess was bringing more firewood."

He thanked the bishop again, and then hurried over in the indicated direction. He found the iceman and the princess exactly where he'd expected, standing before the fire, Anna with another chair in hand. Kristoff was the first to see him and nodded.

"Yeah, I figured you'd noticed," the mountain man said. "I guess this means you're heading out."

"That's the plan."

"You're leaving?" Anna said, surprised. "Now?"

Hans nodded. "But I can't go until I make a few confessions," he said, getting up his nerve. "One to Elsa… and one to you."

Anna's green eyes went wide as she realized what he meant. "Hans, you don't have to-"

"No, Anna, I do," he said firmly. "I know you've forgiven me, but you still have a right to the truth."

The princess bit her lip and hesitated, but nodded for him to continue.

"I broke your heart," he said honestly. "I played with your emotions to get what I wanted… I treated you like an object, not a person. A means to an end. That was… inexcusable. But I want you to know that despite what I told you in that study, I didn't come to Arendelle with the deaths of you or your sister in mind."

"You seemed… so sure of yourself," Anna said in a small voice.

"Yes, I suppose I did," he said with a sigh. "Anna, that was the moment when I told myself to stop hesitating, to do what had to be done to ensure the success of my plan. In essence, you forced my hand by needing an act of true love that I didn't have to give you. My bravado was as much an effort to convince myself as it was to convince you."

"You could've faked it," Anna pointed out. "You could've pretended like you didn't understand why the kiss wasn't working. Or… told me truth in a less- Kristoff, what's the word?"

"Incriminating?"

"Yeah, that. 'Incriminating' way. So… why didn't you?"

The prince had to force himself to look her in the eyes. "In truth? I was angry with you. I felt you were taking away what was rightfully mine, what I'd work so hard for. And despite everything, you still had such a faith in Elsa, such love for her. You truly believed that she hadn't meant to hurt you; I could see it in your eyes. I thought you were some naïve fool who couldn't understand that true love didn't exist. I was angry with you for still retaining that innocent trust in one's family that I'd never been allowed the luxury of having."

Anna's gaze had dropped. "I see," she said softly.

"I didn't believe that siblings could have any real love each other," Hans surmised. "And, Anna?"

"Yeah?" she said, looking up.

"I want to thank you," he finished sincerely, "for proving me wrong."

She smiled at that, a real, honest smile that assured him things were, finally, alright between them, despite everything he'd just said. "Yeah, of course," she agreed. "And, um, Hans, I- I want to apologize, too."

"Apologize? For what?"

"I wouldn't have been so- so easy to fool if I hadn't wanted to be fooled," Anna admitted sheepishly. "I mean, didn't know the first thing about you and I was still willing to marry you. I didn't even know your last name, for crying out loud!" Hans chuckled a little at that, and Anna smiled ruefully. "I wanted you to be my prince charming and come sweep me off my feet, like you were some character in a storybook and not a real person. Even if you hadn't done all that—horrible stuff, I still would've been holding you to some crazy standard just to make me happy. And that- that's using someone too." She bit her lip. "I'd much rather be…friends."

Hans smiled. "I agree."

The princess gave him a quick hug, and then pulled back. "Well, um…you stay safe, okay?"

"Yeah, no kidding," Kristoff said seriously. "If the seas start getting rough, come in to shore, got it?"

"Of course. Do you know where Elsa is?"

"I think she said she was going to the church," Anna offered.

"Thank you, both of you," he said honestly. "I won't forget your kindness, I swear it."

"Goodbye, Hans," Anna said. Kristoff gave a short nod behind her.

"Goodbye, and good luck," Hans answered, turning to go.

Just before he was out of hearing range, Anna said suddenly, "Hans?" He looked back. "If you ever need anything," she said stoutly, "you come to Arendelle, okay?"

He smiled at that, and nodded, just once. And then, he turned his back again, and left.

The church was quiet when he entered, quiet and dark. Only the two altar candles were lit, and the small red sanctuary candle near the front. It was so still that he almost didn't see Elsa, who was standing just inside the entrance. She looked over silently as he closed the door behind him. "Anna said I'd find you here," Hans said after a moment, breaking the silence. Elsa nodded wordlessly, looking around the chapel. "What are you doing in here?"

"Thinking," she said softly. After a moment, she added, "I'm also decorating it for tomorrow."

"Ah." He glanced at her, a smile playing along the corners of his mouth. "Care to show me what you had in mind?"

She chuckled and smiled in return. "Would you like to see that?" she asked, glancing over at him with a twinkle in her eyes.

"Very much, yes."

Elsa's smile grew. She walked out into the center of the church, eyes closed and nodding her head slightly, as if to a melody he couldn't hear.

Slowly, she raised her hands. As she did, a blue-green, flickering glow, reminiscent of the Northern Lights, seemed to pulse out from her feet along the floor. She gestured with her hands, and ice began to grow along the wooden wall-pillars of the church, along the pews, curving across the ceiling in crystalized blue arches. It curled up into the choir balcony and around the candles at the altar.

She lifted her arms even higher, and from all directions snow swirled in, wrapping around her skirts, her arms, up to her torso. With a final flourish, the snow spilled down in cascades from about her head.

Elsa turned to face him, smiling widely. Hans could do nothing but stare. The snow had created a wedding dress, similar in form to her coronation dress but with a longer skirt and train. The Arendellian crocus rested in crystalized ice across the bodice, and the snowflakes had knit together to form a lace cathedral veil, trailing from her head down to around her feet.

"Wow," he managed finally. "Elsa, you look…" He struggled for a word. "Beautiful," he settled on finally, unable to find a more suitable term on such short notice.

She laughed and ducked her head. "Thank you." She looked around the church proudly. "I never realized how beautiful my powers could be until I used them for others. My ice palace… I made that for me. But this—this is for everyone."

He could see it reflected in her sky-blue eyes, how happy she was to give back, to do something wonderful for her people, instead of just keeping locked inside herself. How much she lived for others—for Anna and Kristoff, for her subjects, for everyone who relied on her and depended on her. Everything she did was for someone else.

She is a remarkable queen, he thought, and in that moment, he realized what he had to do.

"The blizzard's died down," he informed her.

"I know," she said, and somehow, he almost thought she looked sad. "…I suppose that means you're leaving, doesn't it?"

"Very soon, yes." He took a deep breath. "But, before I go… I want you to know the truth about why I did what I did that day."

"I already know," Elsa said, baffled. "You wanted the throne-"

"No," he cut her off. "That was why I was willing to lie to Anna. I want you to know why I was willing to kill you."

Elsa had fallen silent, knowing that what she was about to hear was gravely serious. Hans seemed to struggle for a moment, and then said, "What I told you in the prisons was true. I really was intending on convincing your court to let you go; I thought perhaps, if your sister never returned, I could turn my attentions back to you . You know all this. But then Anna came back from the north mountain…and said you'd struck her heart." Elsa looked away at this, wringing her hands. "It would have been easy enough to just let you run away again after you'd escaped; I thought Anna was already dead, you never would have come back to Arendelle, your people were already indebted to me, but…" The words seemed to stick in his throat, ashamed, and he had to force them out. "But I was—so angry, so furious with you–"

"With me?" Elsa interrupted, baffled. "Why?"

"When Anna returned and you said you couldn't end the winter, it forced my hand and put you in the way. You have to understand, I'd come so far, I'd worked so hard and waited for so long… And you, you had everything I'd ever wanted: a crown, a purpose, a kingdom yours from birth… the whole world had been lain at your feet, and you didn't even seem to know it. I hated you most for having Anna, when I had no one. Because, even after everything, all the pain you'd put her through… she still loved you." He swallowed. "When we were- were out there, on the fjord, I wanted you to suffer. I wanted you to feel the pain of having lost your sister, of realizing that the person you'd shut out your whole life, that person you'd taken for granted, that person who'd always knocked on your door, day after day, year after year—that she was really gone, and that you'd done it to her."

The words hit Elsa like crossbow bolts, but she was smart enough to realize what he couldn't say. "To you, I was your brothers," she said, voice soft. Hans nodded, and finally his gaze dropped to the ground.

"I figured once you were out of the way, I could take the rule for myself," he continued, shame-faced. "I knew I would be good at it, I had the ability to be a great king, or so I thought—and I figured, if I had the respect and admiration of a whole country full of people, I wouldn't…" He hesitated for a moment, unsure whether he wanted to be this completely honest with anyone, including himself. "I wouldn't… care… about the twelve back home of whom I didn't."

Elsa was stunned speechless. Before she could come up with the right words, Hans said quickly, "I understand that this excuses nothing, and I'm not asking for your forgiveness. I just wanted you to know why I did what I did…so you won't have to go the rest of your life wondering."

He was telling the truth, of that she was certain. "Thank you," she said softly. "For telling me this."

He managed to smile a little, a painful smile but a smile nonetheless. "It's only your due, your Majesty."

The church was dead silent. Elsa glanced to the windows, which she'd left uncovered. "I can't believe it's just suddenly gone," she murmured.

"I know. Hopefully it won't come back."

"But what if it does? Will you be able to sail in that? What if-"

He chuckled despite himself, cutting her off. "Elsa, I'll be fine. I'm sailing next to the coastline anyway; if I see any sign of trouble, I'll bring the boat in to shore and wait it out."

"Oh. Well… yes, I suppose that makes sense." She was closer to him now. When had that happened? Had she moved? Or… had he?

"Will you be able to handle things here on your own?" he inquired, wanting to make sure she'd be able to deal with Agnar.

"I'll be alright," she said, though she didn't sound too sure. Closer still. He realized they'd both been moving, almost in turn.

Her eyes were so blue. He realized he could reach out and touch her face, her hair, kiss her–

Don't. The voice in his mind was stern. Don't do that to her. You want to part ways as friends, remember? Leave now, before you do something you'll regret.

Be selfless, like she is selfless.

He cleared his throat and stepped away. "I should go," he said. He turned to leave the church.

"Hans?" Elsa said suddenly, and she turned back. Her expression was indecipherable, except for the fact that it was, at least, genuinely friendly. "…Best of luck."

He smiled and nodded. "You as well, Elsa." And before he had the chance to lose his nerve, he turned away again, and left.

Elsa watched the door close, and then sighed, walking to the stairs to the choir loft. She pressed her back to the wood grain of one of the pillars and looked down over the church, this chapel where she'd received her crown and scepter, and been handed the duty of a kingdom. "Enough, Elsa," she groaned to herself, rubbing her eyes with the palms of her hands. "He's gone. He's gone, and that's good." She lowered her hands with a sigh. "You have-"

"-a duty," Hans sighed, heading for the docks. "A duty to her, a duty-"

"-to Arendelle," she said firmly, but there was a deep ache in her chest that made the words feel hollow.

Out by the fjord, Hans climbed aboard the boat and hauled up the anchor, unfurling the sails. The boat slowly began to drift away from the docks, and then faster, as the wind caught the sails, buffeting them out like small white clouds. Within seconds, the dock was too far away to jump to. Hans sighed. "If I just had one more chance-

But then, Heaven knows,

I'd use it as poorly as

The ones that I've lost.

"If I could change the past-

But that couldn't be," Elsa said, walking out into the courtyard between the chapel and palace.

"My duty is my own;

It belongs to no one but me."

"And if I can make you one promise-

Well, I need only one.

I won't cause any more pain

Than I've already done."

"And I've only got one life," Hans said, turning his vision out towards the open sea.

"Only one life," Elsa murmured, climbing the stairs to the lighthouse room.

"And though I've lived it wrong,

I see now that I am

Better off alone."

"I've only got one life." He glanced back—just for a moment—to the castle. His eyes found the lighthouse.

"Only one life." She opened the window and leaned out, looking to the sea.

"And though I've lived it all wrong," they murmured in unison. Elsa sighed.

"For your sake, I know I'm

Better off alone."

And with that, each turned away. Hans adjusted the rudder. Elsa closed the window and opened the book of maps and mathematics.

And neither looked back again.

The Snow Queen watched from her perch atop one of the great stony cliffs as the tiny ship set out to sea. Her lips curled into a frozen smile.

Then, that smile turned to a sneer as she saw the aurora borealis begin to dance over the water. Green and rose. Springtime. Life.

"Julia!"

Her white fists clenched unconsciously. She stood, striding back to her icy sledge. Old memories. Worthless. Besides, she had work to do. She climbed in and snapped the reigns. "Hahp!"

The crystalline horses started, whinnied, and then took off into the sky, glinting coldly in the moonlight like a falling star. Behind her, clouds began to trail across the sky, covering the otherworldly glow of the northern lights.

The sea along the coast hadn't frozen over yet, at least not completely. There was enough space between the floating chunks of ice for Hans to navigate the ship through out into the open ocean. The miniature icebergs bumped up against the side of the ship without doing it any damage, making them the only distinction in the not-quite silence of the sea, the monotonous breaking of the small waves against the hull and the creaking of the ship as it rocked gently from side to side.

Hans could see his breath misting in the air in front of him, white against the night sky. The ship was lit dimly by the pale light of the moon and a lantern he'd lit back near the cabin doors… and, moving silently in the sky like many-colored ghosts, the rose and spring-green Northern Lights. "Well, would you look at that," he said softly, patting the wood of the ship like an old friend. "The sky's awake."

For a moment or two, he watched the shifting bands of light, a distant, if perhaps slightly sad smile on his face. He wondered if Elsa had ever watched them like he had as a child.

Stop thinking about her. You'll only make it worse for yourself.

He glanced down and away, just for a moment, and when he looked back up again, his contented expression disappeared, to be replaced by a frown. "What the…"

Across the northern lights, great streaks of clouds were moving at an alarming rate. The winds were picking up. Hans began to turn the boat in to shore. "Might be nothing," he muttered to himself. "But better safe than sorry."

Even as he said it, he noticed little flakes of snow drifting down. The ship's rocking had ceased to be gentle and was quickly becoming dangerous. Hans began to debate the merits of going back in to shore; how the storm had come up so fast, he had no idea, but if the waves got too rough they could dash the ship against the rocks in shallow waters. Still, he held his course inland.

The water was choppier now, and the winds were blowing faster, stronger. A violent gust knocked the lantern against the cabin door, breaking the glass and putting out the flame. Hans glanced to the shore, then to the sails, and then back to the shore again. In the distance, he could see the waves breaking white against the rocks, foaming on the black water like a witch's cauldron. He let out a sharp breath. "Alright. New plan."

Quickly, he began to put the boat into a heave-to: a technique using the sails to balance the boat out on the waves and allow it to tack against the wind. Hans had always preferred it to letting the boat lie ahull, but then again he'd never been in a storm that had blown up as quickly or as strongly as this. He quickly fetched the spare coil of rope and lashed the wheel so the rudder wouldn't be turned every which way, and then went to adjust the mainsail.

That was his fatal mistake. The winds by this point were screaming—Screaming! How could they have picked up so fast?!—and the boat was pitching to and fro like it was about to capsize. Hans knew he had to get the boat hove-to soon or he wouldn't be able to get safely down into the cabin. Unfortunately, no sooner did he try to adjust the mainsail than the rigging rope was ripped from his hands, moving so fast that it nearly yanked his shoulder out of its socket and tore straight through his leather gloves, shredding the palms. Hans hissed in pain, rubbing at his shoulder and pulling the now-useless gloves off, before he noticed the rope snapping in the wind, far above his head. His eyes went wide and his mouth dropped open. Any number of colorful Danish curses flew through his mind, but none quite seemed to capture the magnitude of just how bad the situation had suddenly become.

With the mainsail compromised, the only thing he could do was lay the boat ahull, or the winds would catch the other sails and capsize the ship. Hans went to untie the rigging ropes before he realized there wasn't enough time. Unsheathing his sword, he cut through the jib-sail rope and the rest, and then headed towards the cabin, intending to hide out bellow-decks until the storm blew over.

The ship suddenly lurched forward, and the prince was thrown off his balance. He slammed violently into the wheel, sword skittering across the deck. He just barely managed to grab on to the wheel before the ship tilted backwards again, and watched out of the corner of his eye as his sword went sliding past.

The waves tossed the ship like a child's plaything in a bathtub. Gritting his teeth, Hans looped his hands through the rope around the wheel and pulled it tight, holding on to the wheel's pegs for dear life. Better broken wrists than tossed overboard. Besides, if the ship went down, in these waves he'd drown before he could swim to shore, anyway.

He let out a sharp cry as the ship pitched back at such an angle that his feet lifted off the ground. The boat seemed like it was going to tip over backwards. Hans squeezed his eyes tight. This was it. This was the end, the most pathetic end he could've thought of. No one would ever even know he was dead; he should've just stayed in Arendelle. Arendelle… Elsa, I'm sorry…

And then… and then, he realized that somehow, he was still hanging from his hands off the wheel. The ship wasn't moving. The winds were still roaring, but the entire boat was immobile. What in the-

He noticed, suddenly, that a woman's figure was standing on the ship's prow, perfectly balanced. The snow howled around her, but she didn't seem chilled. A cape blew out behind her.

"E-Elsa?!" Hans called out, stunned.

The woman raised a hand. An icicle shot forward and sliced through the ropes. Hans tumbled back down the deck and crashed into the cabin walls. His head smacked the wood and the world flashed black and red for a moment.

Stars dancing in his vision, the prince watched as the woman leapt nimbly from the prow to the mainsail's mast, snapping her fingers soundlessly. The winds died instantly, the snow sprinkling down. Blinking to get the flakes and twinkling lights out of his eyes, he saw that the woman above him was most certainly not Elsa. "Wh-who…?"

"Don't you remember me, Prince Hans?" the sorceress (for what else could she be?) said coldly.

He had no idea what to say. The woman resembled Elsa in features and dress, but there was something about her so very different from the Arendellian Queen. She was beautiful, to be sure, but she lacked Elsa's warmth and compassion. An old proverb, a favorite of his mother's, flashed through his head. "Remember, Hans," she'd say, "'Fagerhed uden Tugt, Rose uden Hugt:' Beauty without virtue is a rose without scent."

"Such a shame," the sorceress said disinterestedly. "I was hoping for some begging and pleading before I killed you."

Hans's eyes went wide. He had no idea who this woman was, but apparently she seemed to know him—and had no qualms about ending his life. As if to prove that point, several large shards of ice hit the wood above him like arrows from a crossbow. He ducked and looked around desperately, trying to find a way out. He could go around the cabin to the back of the ship- but no, the boat was tilted too sharply for that unless he wanted to break his neck, a sixty-five degree angle at a guess-

He dodged several more icy projectiles and decided that this wasn't the time to be doing geometry. He spotted his sword on the other edge of the cabin wall and started to crawl towards it.

"Oh no you don't!" the sorceress cackled gleefully, and three lethally pointed icicles thudded into the cabin door in front of him. The door was ripped from its hinges by the force and thudded against the opposite cabin wall, opening a cavern between himself and the weapon. Hans scrambled for something, anything, to use as a weapon, but all he found was some money and a spare button in his pockets.

As a boy, Hans had once gone hunting with his father and older brothers in the marshy flatlands near their summer home. He'd wandered a little farther away from the group and had come across a family of ducks near a small pond. It had seemed like an eternity that he sat there silently, watching the ducks waddle around. Eventually, they'd settled down and sat in the wet grass in front of him.

It was at that moment when he'd heard whooping shouts from his older brothers, and the family hounds had dashed forward.

Now, staring up at the sorceress's cruelly grinning face, trapped by a bone-breaking drop on either side and unable to even reach his sword, he realized something important: I'm the duck.

The sorceress laughed, and Hans felt terror strike his heart. A blue light crackled around her fingers. As the icicles flew at him, he closed his eyes and threw his hands up in a feeble effort of protection.

He heard a sharp hissing noise as behind his eyelids there blazed a bright light, and a sensation of heat bloomed around his hands. Hans didn't care until he realized that he hadn't been impaled, and then he opened his eyes.

His mouth fell open.

Flames flickered around his fingers and then died down. Hans turned his shaking hands towards him and stared at the pale, calloused flesh. Even as he watched, the little tendrils of fire again sprung up from his palms. The prince looked up at the sorceress, shocked. The woman was watching him with scrutiny.

It took him approximately two seconds to adapt to the situation and come up with a plan. The sails were ripped rom the storm, but they hadn't been hit by the waves, only frozen snow, which meant they were still dry. He held out his palm the way he'd seen Elsa do it, fingers tensed, and willed the heat into existence.

The jet of flames hit the bottom of the mainsail with a roar, not even coming close to touching the sorceress. She laughed and sidestepped it easily, but her laughter died when she saw the flames begin to quickly lick their way up the fabric.

Her surprise was all the distraction Hans needed. Quick as he could, he scrambled to his feet, jumped the gap created by the door, swept up his sword and leapt the distance between the edge of the cabin wall and the deck railing, sheathing the blade as he did. He landed on his feet on the frozen-over ocean below, rolled forward to negate the shock, and took off running. Flames sputtered out beneath his boots, the heat cracking the ice with sharp pops!, but he didn't dare stop.

The Snow Queen watched him run towards the shore, dodging around the frozen waves. "Run, little prince," she said, highly satisfied with herself. "You wouldn't want to leave your lovely bride waiting, would you?"

She glanced down as she felt heat against her foot, and rolled her eyes, irritated, as she doused the burning sail.

Hans had been running for what felt like at least twenty minutes, and he knew that he couldn't take another step at that pace or he'd drop. He stumbled to a halt and leaned against a tree, catching his breath and looking around for the sorceress. When it was clear he was alone, he looked down at his hands, sighing.

The flames still licked his palms and fingers, charring the edge of his coat sleeve. "What in the world did she do to me?" he muttered aloud. The only thing he could conclude was that his… fiery… new abilities were somewhat similar to Elsa's ice powers. But she said she'd been born with those, whereas he'd been…what? Cursed?

One thing was for certain; he had to get back to Arendelle and speak with Elsa before this got out of control. He didn't want it to end up like the Queen's little episode a year and a half ago. But he'd never make it at this rate; the sky was getting lighter, he'd noticed, like twilight edging on towards dawn. His eyes found the bright pair of stars that he knew always pointed north-east.* If he followed the roads in their direction, he'd end up in the Arendellian capital city… but how soon?

He looked around. He was on a little road in the middle of nowhere, but in the distance he could see a farmhouse. Hurrying up to it as fast as his tired legs could carry him, he knocked on the front door and then stuffed his hands in his pockets.

After a moment, the door opened to reveal a tired-looking farmer. Upon seeing Hans, he raised an eyebrow. "Who the devil are you?" he grunted.

"I—Andersen. Kristoff Andersen," he lied, using the first names that came to mind. "I need a horse, a stallion if you have one, but a mare will do."

The farmer regarded him suspiciously. "Well, Mr. Kristoff Andersen, I don't deal with strangers, especially not at this time of morning. Try somewhere else." He made to close the door.

"Hold on, I'm willing to pay!" He scrambled for the gold in his pocket, willing the flames away with all his might. To his relief, his hand came out filled with gold and completely fire-free. The farmer looked down in surprise, and then up again.

"Son, that's enough money to buy two or three good horses, let alone one!"

"I know, but I need it now. Please, I'm begging you."

The farmer considered it for a moment, and then looked at Hans, biting his tongue. "There's a pair of nags in the barn; they're not much but they're the best I've got."

"Thank you," Hans said, dropping the gold into his hand and then hurrying to the barn.

Both mares jumped as he opened the door. Hans put his hands up to calm them, but only succeeded in making them rear as they saw the blaze that had leapt again to his palms. Hans closed his eyes. "Think, think. What does she do, what–" The night in the corridor burst into his mind. "Calm. Of course." He took several deep breaths, and when he opened his eyes again, the flames had disappeared.

The nearest horse shied away as he approached, but he held out his hands again. "Easy, girl," he said soothingly. "I'm not going to hurt you." I hope.

The farmer watched as the strange man led one of the horses out of the barn and closed the door. The horse fought him a little, but strangely didn't buck or bite. "I'll be damned," he muttered, as the young man got on the horse and spurred her forward, riding off as fast as the mare could take him.

*A/N: By my calculations, the Second Star to the Right (and its pairing star to the left) are to the approximate Northeast. In one of the scenes from "You can Fly!" in Peter Pan, you can see the silhouet of the domed top of St. Paul's Cathedral while the Darlings are standing on the edge of Big Ben. The same church is shown a few seconds later, right before they fly across the river. On a map of London, the Cathedral is to the North-East of Big Ben.

Well folks, I teased you for two prologues and twenty-seven chapters, but here you finally are! Hans's powers finally manifest themselves- though he still has no idea where or when he got them. Up next, the wedding! See you guys soon!