Chapter Forty-Three
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 unwritten discussion Elsa and Hans have in the library is told in part in my story, "Change," which takes place shortly after Hans's attempt at suicide in the Southern Prisons. Content warnings do apply.
So this is the last chapter! It's a long one due to wrapping everything up, but I hope you enjoy it.
And a long way it was indeed, even in the sled. Thankfully, although Marshmallow had remained behind, Olaf and Ovn accompanied them, and the latter was able to keep the whole group comfortably warm despite the morning chill. After an hour or so, Kristoff pulled the sled into the troll's ravine. "The snow's already melting," Elsa observed, looking around.
And indeed it was. Here and there, spreading patches of green moss were being revealed as the snowdrifts melted into trickling rivulets of water, and everywhere you could heart the drip-drip of water from the trees. "Hey guys!" Kristoff called, disembarking from the sled. "It's okay! We're not dead!"
There was movement from further up the ravine, and then the small landslide of boulders came tumbling down. They surrounded the cart as they uncurled. "Kristoff, my boy!" cried Bulda, leaping up as he knelt down to pat his face. "You're alright!"
"Anna, dear, thank goodness..."
"Could you go get Grand Pabbie?" the princess asked Cliff, who was patting her hand anxiously. "Hans needs help."
"I'm right here, my dear." The aged troll pushed his way through the crowd. He gave a bow to Elsa. "Your Majesty, I owe you my thanks."
"Think nothing of it," the queen insisted, but she was still shivering despite the warmer air, warming her hands over the nearest geyser.
"Bulda, get the queen some warmed cordial," the chieftain said firmly. "Prince Hans, sit down, here..." As he tended to the young man's shoulder, he said in a lower voice, "Tell me everything."
"So, tell us about the wedding!" Bulda urged as she passed a steaming stone mug of medicine to the queen. She waggled her stony eyebrows at her adopted son and the princess. "Are you human and wife?"
Anna and Kristoff glanced at each other. "Uh, well..."
"I can leave if you'd rather discus this personally," Elsa offered, about to stand, but Anna gently pushed her down.
"You stay right where you are. Besides, this concerns you too..."
Over at the other geyser, Hans let out a muffled noise of relief as his shoulder finished healing. "Thank you," he sighed.
"So, Elsa destroyed the mirror with an act of true love," the old troll mused. "These Arendellian sisters do seem to have a way with that."
"That they do," the prince said, watching them. He saw the queen's face in profile, listening with gentle concern to her sister and the mountain man, and without his realizing it, a smile graced his face. Grand Pabbie observed this, looking between them.
"And you, Prince Hans? Will you tell her about your own act of true love?"
"...I'm not sure," he admitted. "If there's any chance she feels the same way, things could get...complicated." He knew, if he stayed in Arendelle—if, perhaps, he became king—he would never be able to ignore what he'd done, and neither would anyone else. If I stay, I'll never be able to run away from the past. Furthermore, the temptation to seek and abuse power would always be near at hand—and the need to face himself every day in the mirror.
"Love is often complicated." He looked over. The old troll was watching his adopted grandson and the two Arendellian royals with a curious expression. "So is doing the right thing."
"I don't know if I can be a good king," the prince admitted honestly. "I don't know if I'm strong enough for that."
"None of us are strong enough on our own." The troll nodded to the trio with knowing look. "That's why we oughtn't go through life alone."
Hans didn't reply, but his found the Arendellian queen again, and her sister and the mountain man with her—and he thought he felt, somewhere deep down in his chest, the last few sparks of fear and anger fading away.
"Well now, that's your whole problem," Cliff said promptly, as Kristoff finished the story. "You two need to work on your communication."
"Yeah, we figured that one out for ourselves," Anna said with a nervous laugh, taking his hand in hers. The blond smiled, embarrassed, and gripped it back.
"Kristoff, next time, please do tell me when these things occur," Elsa advised him.
"I didn't want you to think– I don't know, that I couldn't handle it," he admitted. "Besides, Elsa, Lord Finnmork holds a lot of cards; I didn't want to make things worse..."
"I see..." The queen had a thoughtful look in her eyes, but before she could speak, Hans approached the group.
"We should be on our way. Your kingdom will be wondering what's become of their royal family."
"Good point. Grand Pabbie—thank you," Elsa said, curtsying. "We wouldn't have succeeded without your help."
"It is I who owe you my thanks, Queen Elsa." But by the look in his eyes, she could tell he was curious.
"We'll visit again soon," she promised, and he nodded.
The trolls waved them off as they loaded back in the sled. "Ooh, look!" Anna cried, as Kristoff snapped the reigns. "The flowers are sprouting!"
And indeed they were. White snowdrops and wild red roses were peeping through the grass. The princess looked back at them, delighted—and saw that the both the prince and queen had gone marvelous shades of pink, determinedly not looking at each other. Anna grinned and elbowed Kristoff as they sped off, and he chuckled in return.
It was nearing noon when they found themselves on the ridge above the waterfall, overlooking the town. Anna frowned, shielding her eyes from the sun with her hand and peering out to sea. "There's a ship coming in," she said with surprise.
Hans squinted in the sunlight. "And it's flying a Coronian flag."
Ten minutes later, they reached the town. Villagers were milling about, hugging each other and rejoicing, avoiding an unexpected number of carts. Captain Marcusson was present to met them. "Your Majesty, Highnesses, Sir Kristoff. Glad to see your safe return."
"Thank you, Captain," Elsa asserted. "The town seems in a bit of an uproar. What's happened?"
"A great deal, your Majesty, but before I explain, the Coronian military ambassador would like to speak to you. Apparently they have some of your captives on board?"
They met the military ambassador at the docks, a stiff-backed man with an impressive mustache and a rather unusual weapon. "Captain Hartman at your service, your Majesty," the ambassador said, bowing professionally. "Representing their Majesties King Thomas and Queen Primrose of Corona. The Coronian royal family sends their utmost congratulations, as well as their apologies for their absence. Considering the mysterious ship disappearances in your waters, they thought it better to send military representatives."
"Are those frying pans?" Anna whispered to Kristoff, who looked at the captain's choice of weaponry and shrugged.
"We found these rogues-" The Coronian captain gestured behind him, and several more guards forced forward five cuffed, rather familiar men, all of whom were scowling and flushed with embarrassment, "In three armed ships guarding the passage between Arendelle and the Southern Isles."
"You don't say," Hans said, glaring at his brothers.
"They'd already taken one of our own vessels and a Dun Broch trade ship captive, as well as a small Arendellian ship. We were in position to do battle when the sea froze over." He chuckled. "Apparently they'd run out of rations, and surrendered when they realized they couldn't get back to shore. We waited until the sea thawed a few hours ago and then sailed to port. What would you like us to do with them, your Majesty?"
"They'll face trial, naturally," Elsa replied coolly, glancing at the five Southern princes, "However, there's certainly no time for one today. Bring them to the prisons."
"As well as the rest of my brothers," Hans added. "Find them and make sure they don't cause any more trouble."
"Yes, your Majesty…ah, your Highness." Captain Hartman and the rest of the Coronian guards led the five princes away. Another man approached, saluting.
"Your Majesty." Elsa curtsied back. "The Southern Isles do not appear to be far along in their preparation for a naval invasion, with the exception of the aforementioned three ships. My most emphatic apologies for being taken captive upon my return."
"The Southern Isles aren't going to go to war?" Anna asked.
"Princess, it seems they were not anticipating launching an invasion for at least several months—March at the earliest."
"That would make sense, if they thought the Snow Queen was going to get rid of me for them," Elsa added dryly. "They'd send a small fleet afterwards to quell any uprisings, but they wouldn't need to wage a full war."
"I'm sorry, but the who, your Majesty?"
"I'll explain everything later," she reassured the spy. "For now, go get some rest; you deserve it." The man saluted again and hurried away. "Now, Captain Markussen, perhaps you can explain why the village seems to be in such a state of celebration?"
"Naturally, your Majesty. We were about to head south, on Sir Kristoff's orders, when King Agnar attacked the castle–"
"Agnar?" Hans broke in, startled. "But how–"
"He had some sort of enchantment, your Highness, not unlike your and the Queen's own. We escaped across the fjords into the forest following the Sámi families while Bishop Willum remained behind to hold him at bay, and–"
Before he could finish, Hans took off at a brisk pace, startling the rest of the group. "Hans!" Elsa called.
He didn't glance back, instead quickening his step until he was nearly running, hand on the pommel of his sword as he approached the castle, searching for any sign of the king. Much to his shock, he found him almost immediately: Agnar and Bishop Willum were both kneeling on the bridge that led to the castle gates. Willum had a bracing hand on the king's arm, and Agnar was nodding as the bishop spoke, looking shaken and pale even from a distance. His clothes were covered with soot and scorch marks.
Hans started forward angrily, gripping the hilt of his sword, and somehow they must have heard him because both looked over. The prince stopped short, startled by a look he'd never seen before in his eldest brother's eyes: pure and undiluted fear.
Hans looked over to the bishop, baffled at this reaction. Willum's eyes were deadly serious, and he gave a slight shake of his head. The prince took a step back, surprised and a little abashed, and watched as Willum turned again to the king. Agnar bowed his head, and Willum put his hand overtop his brow, murmuring a prayer. Then he helped him stand up, and the king willingly offered his hands to be cuffed as the guards approached. Kai (who had appeared with Gerda at the door) said something to the guardsmen, and they nodded and walked through the door.
Once the king had been led away, Willum, Kai and Gerda crossed the distance between where he'd been and where the group was standing. "What was that about?" Hans asked the bishop, bewildered.
The bishop raised an eyebrow mildly. "Forgive me for being rude, young prince, but I don't really believe it's any of your business."
Hans blinked, and then flushed red, embarrassed. "Of course. My apologies; I won't ask again."
"Very good. I see everyone has returned safely," he said, with obvious relief. "And the Snow Queen–?"
"She's gone," Elsa said simply. "The Mirror, too."
The bishop sighed at that. "Ah, a shame. I had hoped she might see sense."
"Hans tried," Anna offered. "But…" She trailed off.
"It may have been in her last moments she repented; if so, God is merciful," said the bishop wisely. "I do hope that was the case, for her sake. Well, it's over and done with now; we'd best get on with our own lives. But may I ask, how did you defeat her?"
The four of them, in alternating interjections, quickly explained the whole story. "–The only thing I still don't understand," Elsa finished, "Is how I'm still alive. I should have been frozen solid."
The four of them, in alternating interjections, quickly explained the whole story. "–The only thing I still don't understand," Elsa finished, "Is what happened to the Mirror."
"I think I can answer that," said Willum with a smile. "You said you sacrificed yourself for the prince, yes? A heart fully purified by love cannot be affected by a curse, and there is no greater love than to give up your life for another. When you took the Mirror's power into your heart, you purified it of corruption with your sacrifice, just as your own shard was purified all those years ago. The Mirror was forged together with hatred; with that gone, its power was set free and the Mirror dissolved."
"But then why was she…?" Hans trailed off, remembering with an uncomfortable jolt the queen's blue-tinged face and ice-cold skin.
"The sacrifice had to be genuine," the bishop reasoned. "Evil work does has its effects, after all. But with the love in your heart, your Majesty, you weakened the Snow Queen's curse, just as your sister did two summers past." Elsa smiled at Anna, who squeezed Kristoff's hand and smiled back. "For those who die in a state of purest love," the bishop continued, "death is no more permanent than sleep. I imagine the queen only had to be 'woken up,' per say—perhaps with some other act of true love?"
"Well, the only thing I can think of is a true love's kiss," Kai said in a business-like manner.
"A what?" Elsa said, turning to look at him in surprise.
"A true love's kiss. I was half-dead myself with cold when Gerda found me, but a kiss or two from her set me aright again straightaways. Although who could've performed such a task on you, your Majesty, I couldn't say, I–" His amused ramblings were cut off by a sharp smack on the arm from Gerda. He glanced at his wife, startled, before it dawned on him, and he quickly closed his mouth.
Elsa watched this, baffled, and then looked around the group, as if hoping they would have an explanation. Her eyes landed on Hans, whose own gaze was fixed on the ground. His face had gone a mortified red, the blush stretching from his neck to the tops of his ears. Elsa's mouth dropped open, and she looked to Anna, who gave a nervous little nod.
Flushing scarlet, the Queen forced herself to close her mouth and drew herself up again. "Well, never mind that for the moment. Is everyone here alright?"
"Everyone is fine, m'Lady," Gerda replied. "Quite a few are inside; I'm sure they'd be very pleased to see you alive and well."
"Then they shall, by all means," Elsa agreed. "I get the feeling it's been a long night for everyone."
The many villagers who had returned the castle were more than overjoyed to see their queen alive and well, and rushed to crowd around her almost as soon as they saw her, leaving the prince, princess and harvester to watch with mild relief. Hans quickly went to find some way to help a peasant family who was having some trouble locating all their children (the recent and nearly constant rush of adrenaline had not quite worn off, leaving his driven nature still restless), and Anna and Kristoff found themselves on a small island of solitude in the midst of all the busy activity.
"Looks like everything turned out alright, hm?" Anna said cheerfully, watching the many families and individuals collect their meager belongings, eager to get back to their homes as quickly as possible. "Everyone seems to be okay, anyway."
"Yeah, looks like," Kristoff agreed. They lapsed into silence for another few moments, and then Anna sighed and turned to look about him.
"So, um, about what happened on the mountain," she said, biting her lip nervously. "Are we, you know, good again?"
"I don't know," he admitted. "Are we?"
"Well—I think I am, now that I understand what you were going through." She winced. "Kristoff, I'm so sorry. I never knew how much stress you were under, and I didn't realize I was contributing to it—I mean, I know that I'm pushy sometimes, I don't mean to be, it's just that I get excited and-"
"Anna," he said, cutting her off. "You're not pushy." She gave him a look. "Okay, maybe sometimes you are. But that's okay. No one's perfect, and even if you are sometimes a little, uh, over-enthusiastic, that's fine with me. I'd rather spend a lifetime learning to deal with pushy than a lifetime without you."
She broke into a nervous grin at that. "You mean it?"
"Yeah, I mean it. And, uh, I guess I sort of have to apologize, too."
"Kristoff, you don't–"
"No, I do. I caused a lot of problems by avoiding you, instead of trying to work things out. I just…I'm not a big talker, you know that, and…" He sighed. "I mean, I know I shouldn't go bottling stuff up like that, but sometimes it seems easier to just keep what's bothering me to myself, y'know? But I'm gonna try, Anna, I really am, I promise."
"I know," she said with an understanding smile. "I just want you to know that, well, I guess that I'm here for you, no matter what. So if something's bothering you… I want to be able to help. Even if that's just by… giving you your space every now and then."
He smiled at her. "You're amazing, you know that?"
"I've been told," she answered teasingly.
"Well!" a voice said, and both turned to see Elsa watching them with obvious satisfaction. "I take this to mean the wedding's back on?"
The two glanced at each other and nodded happily. "The wedding's back on," they agreed in unison.
A sudden commotion drew their attention away. "Your Majesty!" a voice was calling, and all three looked over to see a skinny, tight-lipped older gentleman hurrying through the crowds in their direction.
Kristoff groaned. "Speaking of things that bother me…"
"Your Majesty, thank goodness you're here!" Lord Finnmork exclaimed as he approached them, bowing to Elsa and looking flustered and a bit ruffled. "We were all about to head south on Mr. Bjorgman's orders-" He shot a glare at Kristoff, "-when the sky cleared, and we assumed such utterly drastic measures were not actually necessary."
"The Snow Queen is no more; there's no need to evacuate the town," Elsa replied reassuringly.
"Well, thank goodness for that! To leave our home and land to wander the country like some primitive nomads! Surely, your Majesty, you can see now that such a man is not fit to be our prince!" Lord Finnmork said vehemently. "I submit to your Queenship that you do not allow the princess to marry a mere commoner. After all, the royal family must have its standards." He looked at Kristoff with distaste, who returned the favor.
Elsa appeared to consider this. "You're right," she agreed.
"And furthermore, I—oh!" He stopped short, and then smiled and bowed again. "Most wise, my Queen. I thank you."
"Yes, it is most unfitting for a princess to marry a mere peasant," Elsa said in a faux high-and-pompous tone, lifting her nose into the air. "A true scandal, if I do say so myself."
"I agree wholeheartedly!" Lord Finnmork exclaimed emphatically.
"However…" the Queen said, turning to look at Kristoff with a smile. "It is entirely acceptable for her to marry the official Ice Master and Deliverer."
"Yes, I- beg your pardon?" Lord Finnmork said, startled.
"Not to mention our newly-appointed ambassador and administrator of all relations with the northern Sámi peoples," Elsa continued as if she hadn't heard him. "Their rich culture is a blessing the crown has neglected for far too long. And to think that our new prince should be of both Arendellian and Sámi heritage, and fluent in their language! Truly it is fortuitous, don't you agree, Lord Finnmork?"
"I- I-" He looked between the determinedly-not-surprised Kristoff and the cordially smiling Elsa, and deflated. "Yes, your Majesty, quite fortuitous," he mumbled. "If you'll excuse me…" He wandered off, looking rather glum.
Elsa smiled and dusted off her hands, and Kristoff couldn't hold back a snort. Then the ice harvester looked over to Anna, and his smile fell. His eyes dropped to the ground. "Um… sorry you had to see that," he mumbled, rubbing the back of his neck.
"Kristoff, it's okay," Anna said earnestly, taking his other hand in hers. He looked up, surprised. "Like I told you on the mountain," she said firmly, "I love you for who you are—and that includes what you do and where your family's from. I'm proud of you, Kristoff; you should be proud of yourself, too."
"You are?" he said uncertainly.
"Yeah, of course I am." Her green-blue eyes were sincere. "And I know you've been trying to protect me from all of this, but I don't want you to."
"Anna-" he started, but she cut him off.
"Mm-mm. If I'm going to be your wife, then I want to be your wife in everything—and if that means people talk about me behind my back, then I can handle it." She squeezed his hand. "We go through things together now, remember?"
He grinned back at her. "Yeah. I guess we do." He looked to Elsa. "You really think I can handle this?" he asked seriously. "I've never been an ambassador before."
"I wouldn't be appointing you if I didn't believe in you," she said firmly. "And to be frank, Kristoff," she gestured around at the palace, in which more than a few of the Sámi villagers had congregated with the townspeople and aristocrats to see what would happen next, "Yes, you have."
Anna giggled at his embarrassed yet proud expression, and then turned to her sister. "We want to get married," she said firmly. "Today. I mean–" She blushed and glanced up at her fiancé, "–If that's okay with you."
"You kidding? I don't want to wait another minute," Kristoff laughed. "What do you think, Elsa? Do we have your blessing?"
"Well, it's a little short notice, and we haven't much in the way of food fit for a ball or any such, but if that's what you want, then you have my permission."
"If that's the case, then we really ought to talk to Bishop Willum," said a fourth voice, and all three glanced over to find, to mild surprise, that Hans had appeared there at some point during the conversation. "After all, the chapel is in rather poor condition, if I remember correctly."
"Good point," Elsa said, flushing a little. She spotted the clergyman some ways away and called, "Willum!"
The bishop glanced up and then hurried over at her call. "Your Majesty?"
"The princess and our Official Ice Master would like another opportunity to exchange their wedding vows," Elsa said formally, but there was a twinkle in her eye. "Unfortunately, considering the damage done to the chapel…"
"Well now, my dear, a church is a church, no matter the state. Besides, the damage was rather superficial. Why don't we go see, hm? You may be remembering it worse than it really is."
Standing in the center of the chapel, the twin winces on Hans' and Elsa's faces were evidence that they'd remembered it exactly as bad as it really was.
The green-painted walls around the apse had been stained by black scorches and water damage from the ice; there were also several pitted marks directly to the left of the altar where the queen had pinned the prince to the wall. A few of the pews were similarly marred, and parts of the carpet in the center aisle had been singed away completely. Even the altar had been seared black at the bottom. "Oh, Willum, I'm so sorry," Elsa sighed. "I'll pay for the repairs, I promise."
"Nonsense, your Majesty; it just gives the place a little character," said Willum, looking positively pleased. "Why, in a few hundred years, this could be a site of pilgrimage!"
"I don't think we're anywhere near holy enough for that," the queen chuckled wryly. "Well, just tell me if you change your mind." She looked around at it with mild hopelessness, however, as she thought of the ceremony her sister wanted to have take place so shortly. "I don't know if it's in any state to host a wedding right now, though."
"It's okay, Elsa," Anna said from behind her, and the queen turned to see that the princess was still smiling, her hand held in Kristoff's own. "I don't have a dress either, and there's no cake or feast or really anything left to celebrate, but that's okay with us." She glanced up at Kristoff and grinned. "We'll be happy no matter what our wedding's like."
"Even so, I wish there were something I could do," Elsa sighed. "It's a shame that we had to lose all the good my powers could do to get rid of the Mirror…I guess I never realized how helpful they could be until I lost them." She nudged Hans. "Or yours, for that matter."
"Mine?" he said, surprised. "I don't see how much good fire could really do…"
"Alone, no—just as ice is dead without heat. But together, I think we could have accomplished a great deal," she mused. "Making rain to help the crops grow, for one—or making wedding dresses." She smiled ruefully at Anna. "I'm sorry, Anna."
"Hey, don't worry about it, I'm just glad we–" She stopped suddenly, her eyes going wide, as did Kristoff's and Willum's.
"Anna?" Elsa questioned.
"Elsa. Turn around," the princess said, very softly.
The queen did so, and when she let out a low gasp, the prince followed suit.
Gently hovering in the quiet, holy air of the chapel were two small, faintly shining symbols: one a white snowflake, surrounded in feathery blue light; the other a small flame, like that of a candle, casting off a bright golden glow. "But how…?" Elsa whispered.
"A gift from Heaven," Willum said softly from behind them, his voice one of awe. "Your powers have been returned to you—free from the Snow Queen's curse."
"But—why? And how?"
"Did I not tell you, my dear, that power is not inherently evil?" the bishop answered, smiling. "All power is ultimately from above; while it remained captive and corrupted by the Mirror, it had to be forced upon you, but now it is offered freely as a gift, for the sake of your kingdom."
"Am I supposed to accept it?"
"The decision is yours alone, my queen."
Elsa looked down at her hands, and then to Anna. The princess was smiling as she moved forward to take her sister's hands in her own. "What should I do?" the young queen asked softly.
Anna squeezed her hands. "Powers or no powers, Elsa, you are a great queen." The elder sister smiled. "Do what you want to do."
The two embraced, and then, with a deep breath and an expression of relief, the queen reached out towards the snowflake—and then, she paused.
Hans hadn't moved; instead, he was staring at the bright, flickering flame, his expression clouded with doubt. "Hans? Are you alright?" Elsa questioned.
"The greatest gifts can cause the worst harm if unjustly used," he said quietly, eyes never wavering from the holy light. "I know what sort of man I can be, Elsa, and I don't know if it's wise for such a man to possess this sort of power."
He glanced over, startled, as he felt a hand land on his shoulder. "I know what sort of man you can be, too," the queen said quietly. "And that's why I trust you to take it. Don't let fear of the past determine your future."
The prince bit his lip, still obviously in doubt, and then took a deep breath and nodded. "Together?"
"Together," Elsa agreed, giving his shoulder a warm squeeze. Both looked back to the hovering symbols before them, and then reached forward in unison and closed their hands about them.
In the moment's silence that followed, something changed. No one was really sure how or why, but a deep wind rushed through the chapel, swirling around the pair near the altar. With the wind came a deep and refreshing sense of peace, and everyone closed their eyes, Anna included. When she opened them again, her mouth dropped open. "Elsa!"
"What?" the elder sister said, startled.
"Your hair! It- it's turning light again!"
And indeed it was. The strands of dark brown were now being quickly shot through with whitish blonde, until soon it was all the same pale color it had been before. Hans's, too, returned from brown to auburn. Snowflakes and sparks appeared in the wind, dancing about the pair, and Elsa laughed with the feeling of exhilaration. When at last the transformation was complete, the pair turned to look at each other, each smiling. Hans glanced down to the tiny sparks that were arising constantly from his palms. "Hm. That could be problematic." His mind flashed back to the sunken Aspiration. "I never did learn how to control these properly..."
"You just have to practice," Elsa urged him. "You managed it well enough on the mountain."
"Well, I was rather focused then." He concentrated. "'Love will thaw,' right? Or something like that."
"Exactly. Try making something beautiful."
Something beautiful? It was a strange request; he could see how fire could be functional, but beautiful was another matter. Still, he was willing to try. He closed his eyes for a moment, and then opened them again when an idea occurred to him. Elsa watched as Hans raised his hands like a conductor to an orchestra, and with a flick of his fingers, gold and scarlet fireworks exploded near the ceiling of the church. Anna gasped in delight, but the show was only the beginning; rather than burning out, the sparks hovered down until they floated in the air about them, like a hundred glimmering candles. Elsa threw her arms out wide, and snowflakes began to drift down from the chapel ceiling. Another sweep of her palm covered the church floor in pure white snow. The sunlight streamed in through the windows, and Elsa looked to her sister with a smile. "Now for the final touch."
The snow began to swirl around her sister, turning her traveling dress into a beautiful glittering wedding gown and veil. Instead of the Victorian style she'd had before, this new dress was instead in traditional Scandinavian design, complete with a sheer white apron, embroidered vest and ribbons. Anna gasped and spun. "Oh, Elsa! It's beautiful."
"I'm glad you like it," Elsa replied. The two embraced briefly, and then Anna stepped back.
"But what about Kristoff?"
"…I might have an idea." The other five looked over in surprise as the harvester himself spoke, and Kristoff flushed. "It's kind of just this thought I've had for a while—but if you guys think it's a bad idea, I'll let it go."
"Well, what is it?" the queen questioned.
He hesitated, and then said all in a rush, "Okay, so a while back I was talking to Sáppá and when he found out I was getting married, he asked if I were going to wear a gákti—that's the tunic he wears. I said I didn't have one, and he offered to let me borrow his for the wedding. That was back when the wedding was still off, of course, but now…I don't know. I think it would make Ma proud, y'know?"
Elsa smiled. "Kristoff, I think it's a wonderful idea."
"You do? But what if someone thinks…"
"Your heritage is part of you, Kristoff; you shouldn't have to hide it just because you're becoming part of the royal family."
The ice harvester grinned. "Thanks, Elsa."
The queen nodded. "Well!" She looked around—to the prince, the bishop, and the two lovers who were grinning and blushing like fools. She smiled. "I think it's about time we had a wedding."
"Na na na heyana
Hahiyaha naha
Naheya heya na yanuwa
Anhahe yunuwana"
The choir's voices rose high in the sacred air as the whole congregation turned to look as the doors of the chapel opened wide, and the wedding procession began. First came Willum and the deacon, both dressed in the white vesture of Holy Christmastide, the bishop's gold crosier flashing bright in the sunlight. Shortly behind them followed Kristoff, and there was a faint murmur from the crowd, to see the prince-to-be dressed in the traditional wedding garments of his mother's people: all navy blue with scarlet and gold embroidery, and square buttons to symbolize the life of a married man. Still, the man neither faltered nor flushed in embarrassment, but instead took a deep breath, lifted his chin and walked forward to the altar with his head held high in pride.
Shortly behind him followed the Queen herself, clothed in an elegant dress formed entirely of pale-blue ice crystals, her hair up in its traditional bun. The man escorting her was another occasion of surprise for the congregation, for indeed it was none other than the once-disgraced Prince Johannes Westergaard of the Southern Isles, clad in his formal navy uniform, although lacking his white leather gloves. Hardly did the people have time to register this, however, before their attentions were drawn to the next pair of figures- the now-familiar snowman Olaf (his "flurry" again restored) and a small, clearly female creature that looked remarkably like a candle. The former bore a pillow with two rings, the latter tossing little flower-like flames that vanished before touching the snow-dusted floor.
Then, everyone quite forgot about the oddly adorable little creations, the queen and the prince, and even the groom himself, for at last their eyes alighted upon the loveliest figure in the whole procession.
Kristoff felt his heart cease to beat for one impossibly long moment, his breath catching in his throat. Anna looked to him and then blushed, ducking her head. Why she seemed so suddenly shy was an utterly wonderful mystery to her husband-to-be, for the princess, the love of his life, shone as lovely as the winter snow and as radiant as the summer sun. Her dress, veil, and yes, even her eyes seemed to sparkle in the gold sunlight streaming through the windows, red hair ablaze, her blush like twin roses on her freckle-spotted cheeks. And if there were a catch in the throat and tears in the eyes of him who was about to wed her as his bride—well, who could blame him?
"Deilig er jorden,
prektig er Guds himmel,
Skjønn er sjelenes pilgrimsgang!
Gjennom de fagre,
riker på jorden,
går vi til paradis med sang!"
Kai and Gerda escorted the princess to the front of the chapel, and then left her to go stand at one of the pews. Anna bit her lip and glanced up at the man before her, and she saw a hundred things in that moment: an ice harvester, a loyal friend, a commoner, and a true love—a man of honor, hard work, compassion, and utter devotion. Kristoff, too, looked and saw the princess for her truest self: a woman of enthusiasm and passion, a princess and a friend to all, and at her heart, a person of deepest loyalty and unfailing kindness. Together, they joined hands, her small, slender palm fitting perfectly inside his strong gasp, and heard the Christmas Mass.
Following a wonderful homily, Willum looked to the man and woman before him. "And now, we shall witness an image, an icon, of that same sacrificial love which Heaven has given us on this Holy Christmas Day," he declared. "If there be any here who object to the union of this man and this woman, speak now, or forever hold your peace!"
And the church was quite silent.
"Then we shall proceed to the vows." He looked to Kristoff and said, very seriously, "Do you, Kristoff Nihkke Bjorgman, take Anna Katharina Andersen for your lawfully wedded wife, to have and to hold, to love and to cherish from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, until death do you part?"
"I do," Kristoff said earnestly, unable to keep from grinning. He squeezed Anna's hands in his.
"And do you, Anna Katharina Andersen, take Kristoff Nihkke Bjorgman for your lawfully wedded husband, to have and to hold, to love and to cherish from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, until death do you part?"
"I do," she said with a smile, and squeezed his back.
"You have declared your consent before the Church. May the Lord in his goodness strengthen your consent and fill you both with his blessings. What God has joined together, let no man divide." Willum looked around and frowned. "Do you have the rings?"
"Oh, right here!" a little voice piped up, and Anna had to stifle a laugh as Olaf—his flurry now restored—hopped up the steps, holding a little pillow in his hands with the rings on top. "Whoa-hoa!" He tripped and nearly dropped the pillow, but found his balance again and held the pillow up as high as his little twig arms could manage.
"Thank you." Willum took the rings. "May the Lord bless these rings which you give to each other as a sign of your love and fidelity." He handed the rings to the pair, and Kristoff slipped Anna's onto her ring finger. She did the same for him, her eyes glimmering with tears like tiny stars.
The bishop smiled. "I now pronounce you man and wife. You may–"
Kristoff picked Anna up without another moment's ado, swinging her around and kissing her full on the mouth. "–Kiss the bride," Willum said rather belatedly, chuckling.
Elsa giggled from her place as the maid-of-honor to the side, looking fondly at the pair. As Kristoff pulled back, Anna blushed and grinned at her elder sister. Elsa smiled back and gave her a small nod.
The ball was truly a merry occasion. People twirled about on the dance floor to the festive sounds of music and laughter. Elsa stood off to the side with a glass of white wine, watching Anna talk animatedly to Kristoff, who couldn't keep that goofy grin off his face.
"Well, this is a conundrum," a voice said to her right, and she turned to see Hans standing there, smiling. "I don't know whether to wish you a Merry Christmas or congratulations on your sister's wedding."
"I think you just did both," she teased.
"Hm. Problem solved, then." He nodded to the couple a ways away. "The bride and groom seem happy."
"Very happy," Elsa agreed. "I don't know when I've seen her so giggly, and that's saying something, considering it's Anna." She chuckled suddenly, and nodded to her right. "Look there."
He did, and found himself smiling at the sight of a certain snowman teaching the little fire creation how to dance. Both were very careful not to touch each other, but the prince distinctly heard Olaf say, "See, it's easy! You just glide and pivot, glide and pivot-"
Hans shook his head in amusement and wonder. "Incredible. They get along so well, even though with one touch they could destroy each other."
"Hm. I think they'll manage just fine," Elsa replied, smiling. She hesitated, and then said, "Hans… there's something about which I need to speak with you."
"Oh?" He saw the way she bit her lip, and his contented expression disappeared. "Oh," he said again, looking down and away.
"No, it's not like that," she said quickly. "Hans, I want things to be right between us—a clean slate, so to speak."
"I don't follow…?"
"I forgive you," she said simply. "And…I'm sorry I couldn't say that earlier."
Hans stared at her, his spring-green eyes stunned. As Elsa watched, his throat convulsed, and he tried several times before he managed to speak: "Y-you-"
"I really do," she said softly. "It's over, Hans. We're free...both of us."
Those green eyes surely had a mist along the bottom of them now, and though neither was quite sure how it happened, Hans found himself embracing Elsa tightly, eyes closed tight in an effort to keep them from spilling over. Elsa, too, smiled gently and closed her eyes. "Thank you," Hans said hoarsely. "And—Elsa, I'm sorry. I'm sorry for all of it." He realized he'd never said it outright. He'd never felt like he had the right, until then.
They broke apart, and Hans chuckled ruefully and wiped his eyes with the heel of his hand. "I understand that I still have a long way to go," he said sincerely, "to regaining your trust."
"Thank you for understanding that."
"And I will do everything I can to earn it," he vowed. "You have my word."
The shared a smile, and then Elsa took a deep breath. "There is something else."
"What do you mean?"
"I've looked into international crime laws, and our treaty with the Isles. As it turns out, the trying of a Southern citizen for a crime committed on Arendellian soil falls into the jurisdiction of our courts, not those of the Southern Isles."
Hans's eyes went wide as he realized what she was getting at. "You mean-"
"I mean that your brothers tried you illegally—and, as such, their ruling is invalid. The only courts allowed to try you are Arendellian courts, which in this case would be my council, for a matter of two attempted regicides and high treason. And the only judge capable of pronouncing a sentence on you–"
"–Is you," Hans finished. Elsa nodded. "Then…are you going to retry me?"
"Hm. Well, not exactly." She raised her voice and called out, "Excuse me!"
The heads of her council looked over, startled, as did everyone else in the ballroom. The music thrummed to a halt. "If I could please have everyone's attention," Elsa said calmly, as everyone watched her, confused. "This is truly a joyous occasion—and I have never in my life been prouder of my beautiful little sister." Anna smiled and ducked her head. Elsa smiled, too, and then grew serious as she continued. "Although I hate to interrupt the celebrations, I feel there is a matter that ought to be taken care of in the presence of the entire kingdom, as well as these good representatives of Arendelle's allies. With Princess Anna and Prince Kristoff's permission, I would like to give a full account of what happened on the North Mountain last night." She glanced to the newlyweds, who linked hands with each other and nodded.
With that, Elsa quickly launched into the tale of everything that had happened in the last month, from the day she'd received the letter from the Southern king to the events in her ice palace. When at last the story was finished, the peoples' expressions had changed from confusion to awe to, at last, acceptance and approval. Elsa turned to the man and said, "Prince Hans, if I may borrow your sword?"
His mouth fell open as he realized what she was about to do. Stunned, he unsheathed his sword and passed the hilt to her. "Please kneel," she instructed.
Humbly, he dropped to his knees and bowed his head. "Do you, Prince Johannes Westergaard of the Southern Isles, swear to henceforth be always loyal to your chosen lady, to the Church, and to the Crown of Arendelle?"
"I do," he answered, trying to keep his voice steady.
"Do you swear to always defend a woman, regardless of her name or class, and to treat her with such respect as she deserves?"
"I do."
"And do you swear to be honest, brave, charitable, honorable, and compassionate, to defend the poor and the helpless, to never avoid danger out of fear, nor to act dishonorably on the field of battle?"
"I do."
Elsa raised the sword. "I dub thee knight." She touched the sword to his right shoulder, then to his head, and then to his left shoulder. "And moreover, I pardon thee of all crimes committed against the Royal Crown. Rise, Sir Johannes Westergaard, knight of Arendelle."
The crowds announced their approval with applause as Elsa returned the sword to him. Hans's hands were shaking even as he re-sheathed it, and he felt little flames flicker about his fingers. He looked to Elsa, who smiled with gentle approval, and he found himself smiling back.
When the clapping had ceased, Hans inclined his head. "Your Majesty," he said, "the freedom you offer me is generous beyond words, and I am truly honored to be in your service." He paused and, for just a moment, weighed his options. Old habits die hard, after all.
"However…I cannot in good conscience accept your pardon." A murmur spread throughout the hall. "Having the chance to be a hero is not the same thing as making amends," he said firmly. "I have wronged you and your kingdom—a wrong which I intend to repay," he said, turning to look at the people, and then back to Elsa. "If, of course, her Majesty agrees?"
Elsa seemed baffled by this. "Arendelle wishes to repay you—and so do I. There must be some reward I can give you."
He hesitated, choosing his next words with great care. "Queen Elsa…there is a great favor I must ask of you."
"Alright," she sighed, leaning back in her desk chair. They were sitting in the library, warm sunlight pouring through the windows. Aside from them and the books, the room was quite empty. "You've convinced me."
"Forgive me for playing devil's advocate," Hans said, gesturing, "but, well…"
"Why are you doing this for them?" Elsa peered at him in bewilderment. "After everything they've done to you…"
"Why are you pardoning me?"
"That's different. You're repentant."
"I wasn't, at first," he admitted honestly. "I'm hoping they can be. I told Mr. Bjorgman once that I was better off for being caught and punished for my crimes; I'd like to see them come to the same conclusion."
"Plato," she said with surprise, catching the reference, and he nodded. "You know, you never did tell me," she mused, closing her eyes. The sunshine felt nice. "What was it that changed you?"
"Eighteen months reckoning with my impending demise."
She waved a hand. "I meant specifically. If that's not too personal."
At his pause, Elsa opened her eyes again. The prince was staring down at the desk, brows creased in a mild frown. "...Was it too personal?"
"No, you have a right to know. It's just a rather long story."
"We have time," she said gently. "If you like. I won't push you."
He sighed. "Elsa...to be frank, I'm afraid." He looked pensively at the chink of sunlight falling over her desk. In it lay the hymnal, in which, he knew, rested the rose he had given her in the clearing. "If I stay in Arendelle, I'll never escape the past. If I stay, I can't..."
"You can't run from this," she finished. The man didn't answer. "Hans, take it from someone who has tried," the queen said quietly, "we can't run away from who we are, or what we've done. All we can do is...face it." She reached out and squeezed his hand. "And then move forward."
He looked up at her, in the quiet solitude of the library, in the warm winter sunshine, with his judge and friend looking back at him with compassion and a willingness to understand in her blue eyes. This was a good place, he decided, to face his demons. This was a good place to find justice.
"...Your Majesty...have I ever told you about my mother?"
The cell door opened, and the eleven princes and one king of the Southern Isles looked over in surprise.
Their surprise quickly turned to hatred. "Come to gloat?" Helge said sarcastically.
"Or execute us," Ivar muttered bitterly.
Hans closed the door behind him. "Neither of those things." The eleven princes each let out their own expressions of scornful disbelief, while Agnar alone sat silently, unmoving, unspeaking. The cell, though large, was crowded with so many people, and Hans knew that if it weren't for the cuffs around his brothers' hands, they could have easily torn him to pieces.
They knew it, too. Which was why they were so surprised when the youngest of the thirteen held up a key.
"The Queen has offered the eleven princes a choice," Hans informed them. "Tomorrow, you will be tried. I think it's safe to say that every one of you is going to be found guilty. If you falsely plead innocent, you will stay here and serve out your full life sentences in this dungeon, which, although I can assure you it is much more pleasant than ours back home, is hardly a royal bedchamber." The younger eleven grimaced almost in unison to this, detesting the idea with a passion. "However," he continued, "if you plead guilty, you can serve five years working on parole with the ice harvesters here in this country, after which you can appeal to be released. If the Queen believes you've reformed, she'll pardon you and allow you to return home."
There was a moment's silence, and then Caspar declared, "I don't believe it."
"Neither do I," said Karl. "The Queen would never let traitors walk around freely in her country."
"She wasn't inclined to it, I'll admit," Hans agreed. "But I…asked a favor of her."
"Now I really don't believe it," Duartr snorted.
"She offered me a clear name in gratitude for my assistance against the Snow Queen, but I turned it down in exchange for shortening your sentences. I'll also be serving three years on parole, under her supervision. After that, I'll be my own man again."
They stared at him. "You…bargained for us?" Jens said, stunned. Hans nodded. "Why would you do something to help us? What do you owe us?"
"Nothing," he said simply. "But you're still my brothers, and I don't want you to suffer."
When the eleven of them (for Agnar still hadn't looked up) glanced around at each other, baffled, Hans handed the key to Balthazar. "Pass it around. Whoever unlocks himself means to say that he'll plead guilty. The choice is yours." They began to do so, still confused, but each choosing to undo his cuffs. When the key finally reached Agnar on the other side of the cell, he accepted it without looking at Leif, but didn't use it. Soon, all eleven of the princes were unshackled, rubbing their sore wrists.
"The guards at the end of this hall will show you to your rooms for the night. Tomorrow, after the trial, Prince Kristoff will send you out to meet your new colleagues. Several of the ice harvesters have agreed to take you on as household servants for the winter, with extra pay from the Crown. In spring, you'll head out with them to the ice floes. Any attempt to escape or undermine the Queen's authority will not be tolerated," he added sharply. "Understood?" They nodded, and Hans gestured to the door. One by one, each left, until only the youngest and eldest were left alone together in the cell.
Hans walked over to Agnar, who was still staring at the ground, not having moved. Hans reached for the hilt of his sword.
"Do it," Agnar said dully, causing the prince to pause. "It'd be a kinder death than I deserve." He closed his eyes.
A soft thump made him open his eyes again, and he saw that Hans had only been unbuckling his sword's sheath from the belt, and had lain it down on the stone bench as a gesture of peace. "A kinder death than we'd both deserve," the younger reminded him. He nodded to the cuffs. "You didn't unchain yourself."
"You spoke only to the others. I assume that my sentence will still be as harsh as my actions warrant."
"Well, that depends on what you consider harsh," Hans said frankly. "The Queen knows that the Southern Isles would face ruin if they were left without their king. She is willing to renegotiate the peace treaty for another twenty-five years."
Agnar laughed humorlessly. "Congratulations. You'll get the crown you've always wanted."
"Hardly. Didn't you hear what I said? I'm serving a sentence, as well. Besides, you couldn't pay me enough to go back there." He hesitated, and then said, "I spoke with Queen Elsa. She is willing to renegotiate the treaty with you as king—and let you return to the Southern Isles."
"What?" Agnar demanded, sure he'd heard wrong.
"Under some conditions, of course," Hans amended. "First, the Southern Isles will have to pay an indemnity—whatever it'll cost to repair the houses damaged by the storm, compensate farmers for lost livestock or crops, pay medical costs, etcetera. Second, you're obviously going to have to reform the council. I know that technically speaking foreign nations can't tell each other what to do–" Agnar snorted, "–But she has…suggested that some internal checks on the Isles' monarchy, along with a few favorable trade agreements, would go a long way to mending the rift between our countries. She's recommending you establish an elected council and end the era of absolute rule."
The Southern Isles had never had an elected council. Neither of them had to say it, and Agnar wisely did not. "And third," Hans said very seriously, "you're going to stop the naval preparations for an invasion and accept several new ambassadors into the Isles to monitor the situation. If Elsa gets any word of you planning some sort of treachery again, she will have you imprisoned and assume the Isles into Arendelle."
"I thought her Majesty valued the sovereignty of nations," the king murmured.
"The Westergaards have attempted a coup against Arendelle's royal family. Three times." The youngest brother's face was grave. "We're lucky Elsa doesn't want to go to war over the insult alone. And I've given her everything she needs to know about our navy; Arendelle could outmaneuver us six ways to Sunday now." He shrugged. "But, if you agree to make peace, you'll be allowed to remain there as king."
"You convinced the Queen to allow this?" Agnar said, stunned.
"Well, I wouldn't say it was easy. But yes, I did. I think the knowledge that you'd be putting more power in the hands of the people and stabilizing relations helped–"
"Why?" the elder demanded, cutting him off. "Why are you doing this for us? After the way we treated you—we don't deserve your pity."
Hans shook his head. "You're missing the point, brother." Agnar flinched slightly at the word and looked away. "Forgiveness isn't something you can deserve. The Queen forgave me for my atrocity; now I'm pardoning you of yours."
The king stared at the ground, brow furrowed as if he couldn't understand. Hans sighed. "Agnar, regardless of the bad blood between us, I don't want to see our people suffer. Besides, I've had enough bitterness and hatred to last me a lifetime. Haven't you?"
"…More than I care to admit," Agnar said, voice low.
"Then if you're willing to let bygones be bygones, so am I." Agnar looked over, still uncertain. When he saw the sincerity in his youngest brother's eyes, the king found he could manage to sit up a little straighter, as if a great load had been lifted off his shoulders.
"You're really willing to just…let this go? All of it?" Agnar questioned, just to clarify.
"I really am," Hans said honestly. He held out the key. A moment's hesitance passed, and then Agnar accepted it. He unlocked his hands and then stood, rubbing his wrists. Hans got up, as well. As Agnar headed for the door, he caught the king by the arm. "Agnar… before we leave, I think there is one thing that should be settled between us."
The king looked at him, a hint of fear coloring his green eyes. "When… when I was with the Snow Queen, she showed me several things…things I knew but didn't understand before." Hans braced himself. "All my life, you've called me a thief."
"Hans-" Agnar started, but the prince cut him off.
"No, let me finish. Please." Agnar nodded. "At first, I thought you meant the shard. But…that wasn't all you felt I stole from you, was it?"
The king's eyes found the ground, and Hans sighed. "Agnar, about mother's death… I didn't realize—I never knew my part in it. I'm sorry-"
"No." His older brother's voice was firm. "Don't apologize. It wasn't your fault." He seemed to struggle for a moment, and then said, "Whatever part you may have played, it wasn't of your own volition or intent. And…I am the one who ought to be apologizing, for punishing you for something you never meant to do. Mother...Mother wouldn't have wanted it."
Hans looked at him, startled, and then smiled slightly. "Can you imagine if she could see us now?"
Agnar grunted. "Might cry with joy, though she wasn't one for weeping."
Hans chuckled, and then glanced at his older brother. Agnar glanced back uncertainly. It was one of those funny moments where two people think the same thing at the same time, but neither knows quite how to bring it up. In the end, though, it happened all the same: after a moment's hesitance both brothers pulled each other into an embrace.
"Merry Christmas, Agnar," Hans said earnestly.
Despite himself, the king realized there was just the barest hint of a smile on his lips. "Merry Christmas…little brother."
Hans's eyes widened at that, and then he closed them tight, as if holding back tears. Agnar slapped him on the back, and they separated, both a little bashful and awkward, but in a good way. Then, clearing their throats in a rather silly effort to re-establish their own masculinity, both gestured to the cell door, and walk out of it as equals.
The princes looked up as a servant entered the sitting room. "Your mother is ready to see you now," she said gently. "And she said to bring the little ones, too."
The palace infirmary was crowded with midwives and nurses, but they all stepped aside respectfully as the princes walked in, the youngest two led by the hands of their elder brothers. As they approached the bedside, the Queen looked up. Her dark brown hair stuck to her neck with sweat and she looked paler than usual, but her green eyes sparkled. Agnar couldn't help but smile with relief; he'd been worried that the difficult birth would be too much for her, but clearly his mother was alright.
The bundle in her arms shifted, and Agnar saw a round, pink face, which appeared to him to be incredibly small. The infant opened its eyes, and the crown prince noticed that they, two, were same shade as spring grass, happy and alive, that he alone of the twelve had inherited from their mother.
"Would you like to hold him?" the Queen asked gently.
The thirteen-year-old prince looked up, startled. "Me?"
She nodded, and he swallowed the lump in his throat as she handed him the infant child. The baby peered up at him curiously, and Agnar let out a soft breath of surprise as the infant grasped at his finger. How could something so young and fragile be so intelligent?
"What's his name?" one of his brothers asked.
"Johannes Andreas Westergaard," the Queen answered with a proud smile.
"Joha- Joh- J-" Gunnar stamped his foot, irritated that he couldn't pronounce the name. The Queen laughed, her voice like a tinkling bell.
Agnar turned to the eleven, holding the infant in his arms so that they could see. "This is Hans," he said, knowing the nickname would be easier for the younger ones to pronounce. The baby seemed to like it, happily cooing his approval. "This is Hans," Agnar said again. "And he is our brother."
Back upstairs, it was with much surprise that Princess Anna of Arendelle felt the new prince tug on her hands, just as a new, joyful dancing song began to play. "Come on," Kristoff urged her, smiling.
"Huh? Why- whoa!" Quite unexpectedly, the prince twirled her and took her waist and hand. He spun them both around twice, in perfect synchronization with the other guests, and then twirled her again.
"Kristoff!" Anna breathed, delighted. "You're dancing!"
"Hey, don't get too excited; it's the only one I know."
"Baby steps," she teased kindly. Then, she bit her lip, chuckling.
"What?"
"Oh, I was just thinking about something," she said dismissively.
"Aw c'mon, you can't just say something like that! Tell me," Kristoff said with a chuckle of his own.
"Well… I was wondering… what we'd name the kids." She smiled nervously, hopefully.
"Kids!" His eyes went wide, but he was grinning. "I- I hadn't thought about that, uh…" He was blushing, and Anna giggled, going red herself.
"I've always liked the name Petter," she informed him.
"Okay then, Petter for a boy…what do you think about Hildá for a girl? After my Ma?"
She gave him a quick peck on the cheek. "I like it."
Kristoff grinned and twirled her around, much to Anna's delighted giggling.
Elsa and Hans were standing a few meters away, both smiling as they looked on. "Should we be staring?" Elsa asked.
"Hm. Probably not." He glanced over at her. "Are you crying?"
"No!" she said, wiping her eyes quickly. "Of course not."
"It's okay; I won't judge," he said with a chuckle.
"So," she said, turning to face him. "You spoke to your brothers?"
"I did. All of them have agreed to plead guilty. Agnar's already drawing up plans to have his subjects elect representatives to the council; it'll become a two-house system when—if—my brothers return in five years."
Elsa's face lit up. "Hans! That's wonderful." She hesitated, and then said, "…Are you sure we haven't made a mistake?"
"Are you sure you haven't made one about me?"
She smiled. "I'm sure."
"And so am I."
"If there's one thing I may ask, though," she said, turning her eyes back to the dancing pairs on the floor, "You specifically requested a three-year parole. Why?"
Hans thought for a moment about how best to explain it. "Elsa, I know that you're willing to trust me and that many of your subjects are now, as well. But I don't blame the ones who don't." He looked over at her. "I want to spend every waking hour for the next three years making things right."
"Public service?"
"Precisely. I'd especially prefer spending at least some time in your Navy, if you'd allow it, but of course I'll follow whatever orders Her Majesty may have."
"'Her Majesty?''" Elsa quoted wryly. "Awful formal of you, Admiral Westergaard."
"Admiral? You're too kind."
"Well I-"
"Oh, would you two please just kiss already?!"
Elsa jumped and turned. "Anna!" she hissed at her little sister, who had stopped in front of them alongside Kristoff. Then, Elsa's face changed. "Wait…how did you-?"
"What, know that you're both madly in love with each other? C'mon, it was so obvious," Anna said, rolling her eyes. "Well, Hans told me so himself, but seriously, he woke you up with a true love's kiss. I'm pretty sure that counts for something on both your parts."
"And you're not mad?" the Queen said, stunned.
Anna shrugged. "Maybe a month ago I would've been, but…Elsa, I just want you to be happy, really happy, for the better. And if he's what's best for you, then…you have my blessing."
Elsa's face split into a relieved smile. "Anna—thank you."
"Of course! Now both of you, get out there and dance! Have fun! Who knows? In a few years, this could be you!"
They both laughed with embarrassment, blushing. When it became clear Anna was not going to leave until they started dancing, Hans held out a hand. "Shall we?"
Elsa bit her lip, and then nodded happily and accepted. As she placed her hand in his, a little puff of steam spilled out, and both jerked away in surprise. "Well," Hans said, eyebrows raised. "That's…new."
The situation was so absurd that Elsa burst out laughing. Hans chuckled. "I guess I don't have as much control over this as I thought."
"That's alright; you'll have a very good teacher," she teased. He smirked back, both of them going pinker still around the cheeks. Hans took her hand again, and they began to dance to the music.
"So," he said, leading her a step back. "Considering this…recent development, I was wondering…what chances would a formerly disgraced and now pardoned prince have of the Queen considering his suit?"
Elsa's eyes went wide. "Prince Hans, is this a marriage proposal?"
"No, no," he hurried to say. "Believe me, I've learned my lesson about hasty proposals." Elsa snickered. "I'm inquiring as to whether you would consider- I mean, if you would care to spend time with-" Great; now, of all times, his silver tongue failed him. He could feel his whole face turning as red as his hair. With a sigh, he finished rather lamely, "Elsa, I would like to court you, if you would allow it."
Her face broke into a smile, and said primly (though her cerulean eyes were sparkling), "The Queen would be most honored."
"She would?" Hans said, eyes flying wide. "I mean, you would? That's- that's fantastic, that's-" And before he could come up with another adjective, he found that he was kissing her.
He pulled back almost instantly in shock. Elsa's eyes were just as wide. For several moments, his mouth wouldn't seem to work right, and he couldn't get out a sound until he managed, "Elsa! I'm- I'm so sorry, I don't know what-"
He was so busy trying to apologize that he didn't even notice as Elsa good-naturedly rolled her eyes and stood up on tiptoe. He let out a little "Mmph!" of surprise when she pressed her lips against his, and then relaxed, kissing her back.
A few paces away, Anna smiled as she nudged her husband. "Would you look at that?" she said with a grin as wide as a mile.
"Yeah." Kristoff squinted suddenly. "Hey… are those…"
They were. Sparks and snowflakes had begun to swirl lazily in perfect unison around the pair. Kristoff chortled. "Oh, I am so making fun of him for that later."
"Don't you dare!" Anna said, smacking his arm lightly. "Or I'll tell him about your glasses."
"Eh, I kind of like them, anyways."
Anna gasped with delight. "Really?"
He grinned. "Really." And with that, he twirled her around and kissed her, embracing his wife—his wife!—as tightly as he could.
And as the ball continued on, one dance would fade into another, and another after that, until dances became days and days became years, and they all lived happily thereafter, with as much joy and peace as can be expected from those with love in their hearts.