A/N:: WARNING! This chapter will contain a bit of semi-graphic whipping. This will be the chapter that earns this fic it's Teen Rating!
It had been a week since his sentencing, and Hans had yet to be whipped or see daylight, when the iron door rattled. Once, twice, and then artificial sun spilled in.
Hans flinched from the light as his cell door opened. His stomach rumbled as the scent of freshly baked bread wafted in, and he jerked as a slight girl entered the room. "John." He winced at the tall, willowy figure, and he looked away in shame.
"Hania, why have you come?"
His oldest sister gifted him a half smile, sighing as she knelt down and ran her hand through his hair. It was something she had always done to him, even as a child, and he leaned into it with a sigh. As she twirled her fingers around his thick red locks, she curled up around him, dropping her basket.
"I heard of what transpired in Arendelle, and I had to come. Hans, I do not pretend to know or to understand what happened, but I can offer you my forgiveness and my love."
He searched her face, waiting for something to give way. "The others have abandoned me, and have renounced me as their blood, yet you do not?"
The princess smiled and shook her head, her soft red amber hair brushing her face. "It was I who gave you your name, not Maman. I who loved you out of all others except her. I held you first, when Maman brought all of us in to meet the newest prince. Do you know what I saw then?"
He looked at her, quirking a brow. She tousled his hair again, smiling. "Potential. The ability to be something great and wonderful. That hasn't changed, even with your… misbehavior." She paused for a moment, and then uncovered the basket. "I paid off the guards to let me bring these to you. Two loaves, fresh from Maman's oven. And just a bit of strawberry jam." Hans' eyes lit up at that, and he grinned boyishly.
"I see the years of being a wife have not made your mind forgetful of my favorite thing."
She flicked his nose, a small smile on her face. "Alas, I did not bring a sandwich to you, but I thought the strawberries would suffice."
He hugged her quickly, moving some of his overgrown hair behind his ear when he suddenly frowned. "But Father and Maman-"
Hania shook her head slightly. "There is a reason that a sufficient amount of loaves might be missing, none of which has to do with you." Her hand dipped to her abdomen, and Hans' eyes widened.
"Really? Hania, that's wonderful! How long?" He grabbed her tightly then, tears forming. She chuckled as he released her.
"I have only just found out. In another month, I won't be a beanpole anymore."
"Stand to your feet, the time for your punishment is near!" The guards' order brought Hans to his feet slowly, and then as the ex-prince was led by the quadrant of guards to the punishing cell, he kept his head low and tried to think of how his weakness had cost him. His cheeks heated with embarrassment as they stripped him of his clothes completely, then threw a towel around him to use as a loincloth. Some prince I turned out to be, Hans thought as he looked around the arena. One of the guards tied Hans' hands to a post, cinching the ropes tight to his wrists as another guard selected the bullwhip, weighing it in his hands with a solemn nod. Keeping his thoughts elsewhere so as to not panic, Hans did not hear the repeating of his sentencing, nor the sizzle of the whip through the air, only noticing when it met his bare back with a sickening twack. He tensed, crying out and straining against the pole.
Shock waves coarsed down his body as the whip peeled away, and Johnnes tried to remember to breathe. Thwack! As it hit a second time, Hans choked and twisted, his visions filled with pain and darkness. Mere feet away, he knew his father and mother watched, as was the law for the ruling bodies to watch all punishments carried out. He trembled as he opened an eye and saw his mother whiter than a sheet, clinging to her husband for dear life. Her once auburn hair had whitened in her older years, and Hans distracted himself by remembering what it was like to grow up the second-youngest of eighteen.
As the whip hit a third time he had barely enough time to breathe when it hit a fourth and a fifth, the hits in quick succession. A lesser man would have passed out from the pain by now, but Hans more or less kept his feet. He trembled and choked and cried, but he refused to let his mind fail him again. After all,if his mind had not been so weak, he would still have his Anna.
The sixth time the whip struck, Hans screamed into his arm. Something wet and warm ran down his back and he trembled, trying hard to not collapse. His muscles spasmed and jerked, and he thought he heard a female voice scream, "Stop! No more, he's had enough!" But then there was nothing but silence as the whip came forward again and again. Seven, eight, nine… god, it seemed as though it would never stop.
Think of how Anna must feel, how she felt when you told her you would kill her and her sister. How she felt when you told her she wasn't loveable! It should never stop, but death is too good for the likes of you! You deserve all this and more. The Masters of the Guard should kill you! Anna should have killed you!
His mind repeated those lines again and again as the whip sliced through the air and into his skin. As Hans reached a limit that he thought he could truly take no more, there was a pause. And then another pause. Daring to open his eyes, barely conscious, Hans felt the pressure of the ropes release his wrists, and he slid down to the ground, mud that was slickened with his own blood. Somewhere up above, a deep voice thundered a command for everyone to leave, but he felt somebody lift up his head and stroke his cheek. He tried to open his eyes again, but everything was fuzzy. He faded away to a darkness where there was no pain or guilt.
When Hans awoke, he glanced around and realized that he had been moved to a new cell. The cell before had been underground, dug deep under the castle grounds and offered no lighting and had a rich earthy smell. Those cells were for the worst criminals, the murderers and escape risks and the traitors to the crown. Hans sighed and shook his head. I guess that's what everyone thinks of me now. Looking at his new home, he nodded upon realizing he was at least one level above the dungeon, if not two. This cell had streams of daylight coming in, and his brow furrowed as his mind tried to connect the dots as the cell door swung open and Hania stood there, looking terrified of him as she sat down the heavy-looking bucket she carried. Rubbing her own arms, she tried to smile as she walked towards him, pausing as she reached out to touch him. Biting her lip, she curled her fingers back into a fist and sighed as she sat down on the hard wooden bench beside him.
"I told Father to move you to lower security for now. With your back so messed up, you won't be running anywhere."
Hans lifted his eyes to her and tried to speak, wincing at how dry his mouth was. Seeing this, she quickly went to her bucket and lifted a small gourd of water, pouring it into his mouth and smiling forlornly as he drank greedily.
"You were always a glutton for water." Her chuckle faded away and she bit her lip, searching first the floor, then the bench they occupied, and finally she met his eyes. "I've got to-"
The door banged open and they startled to see the king and queen there, the former of which holding an expression of rage on his face. He took a small step forward and his eyes traced Hania's form, frowning heavily.
"I do believe, dear daughter, that I expressly forbid you from visiting Johannes. You and all others. He is being punished for his grievous crimes, and should be treated accordingly."
Hania had inherited both her mother's quick qit and her father's hot temper, and she raised a brow. With sarcasm dripping from her voice, she spoke, crossing her arms and leaning against the stone wall. "Oh? No visits? So… why are you here? Unless you wish to join him."
The king scowled at her, stiffening as he spoke. "I do not owe you nor anyone else an explanation for my actions. I am the king." His gaze flickered to the youngest prince, and he spoke again. "I came to check on the prisoner."
"Do not call him that!" Hania snapped, eyes blazing as she stepped forward. "Crimes or no, he is still your son. I know he regrets what he did, and will atone for it. Do not discount him because he messed up-"
"MESSED up?!" The king thundered his shocked reply, looking at his eldest daughter as though she'd gone mad. "He damaged our relationship with a trading partner beyond repair, and I will spend the rest of my rule trying to make up for his idiodic actions. Dear child, he did far more than simply messing up."
Hania's brow furrowed, and she shook her head stubbornly. "Be that as it may, he still is your child."
The king sharply shook his head, the anger in his eyes cooling as he spoke and then turned away. "He stopped being any son of mine the day I recieved that letter from Arendelle." He paused in his departure and wrapped his cape a bit tighter around him, continuing, "As the oldest girl, I have treated you as I did your brothers. I allowed you to study and know the law perhaps better than any within our borders. I see now the error of my ways. But now that time is done. You are married and are expected to know your place, especially during a visit back home." He shook his head, and when he glanced back and saw her stricken face, turned away again and steeled his voice. "How can I expect you to understand how things must be for Johannes? You're just a female."
He swiftly departed, and the queen stayed standing with her head bowed low. Even without speaking to her, Johannes and Hania could tell that his words had hurt her deeply. The tears that trickled down her face only sealed the deal, and Hans growled suddenly, standing despite the pain ricocheting through his back and the heavy chains on his wrists, and snarled towards the door. "I'll get him for that! Maman, you didn't deserve that, it isn't-!"
Queen Alvilda held up her hand, dark green eyes red and watery. "Hold your tongue and speak no more, lest the guards hear and hang you for treason and I and your sister for conspiring." She paused and then sighed, sitting down on the bench near Hans. "The king might not phrase things as we might wish, but he isn't all wrong." She ran her hand down her face and shook her head, looking troubled. Meeting the eyes of her youngest son, she took his hand and shook it, a smile flitting across her face for a moment.
"Johannes, you are my lastborn son. I would rather die than see you beaten again, or harmed in any way. But Anders is right, at least partially. It isn't our place to challenge him, and you cannot get special treatment even within prison." She brushed his auburn bangs away from his face, a thousand emotions flitting across her face before she dipped her head, letting out a soft sob. "You must endure the next seven years and be the man I raised you to be. I know I shouldn't have favorites, but…" She shrugged, a rare moment of vulnerability and smugness showing.
"When the midwives brought you to me after the wetnurse had nursed you, I was taken by the bright green eyes that gazed out at me. All your siblings had been born with a babe's blue eyes, and had given way to their green hues later. But you were different from the very start. You were a quiet and happy baby, rarely fussed. By the time you were four, you were shoulder deep in the wish to be 'helpful' in any way you thought possible. I recall Eindride being two, and you helping her learn to read. I remember how it felt to watch Hania take you from your crib as an hours-old babe, and tell me that she thought you were the most beautiful boy she had ever seen… and that she wanted to name you."
Closing her eyes, the queen chuckled; a sound which Hania echoed from her place on the second bench. "Your father raised his brows at that, but I allowed it. We had not christened the others until weeks after their birth, but your sister led the priest in and picked you up, and said that if you had been a girl, she would have called you Hania the Second, but since you were a boy, Hans would have to do. Your father did, in fact, protest at that, since it wasn't a royal sounding name, and to that Hania just said, 'Okay, then name him Johannes, but call him Hans. He's gonna be a handful."
Opening her eyes, the queen stared at her son, becoming less the angry and stern queen she had been upon his arrival to the soft and gentle mother he had known his entire life. "Why were you here, Hania? In your state, you should be resting, or with your husband."
The princess gestured to the bucket she had abandoned on the floor. "I can either clean his wounds, or he can die before his punishment has been fulfilled." The queen's brow furrowed and she knelt down to the bucket, glancing at her son and the shirt he wore.
"The guardsmen put that on you last night for modesty… I do believe this won't be easy." Bending over to look at his back, she winced and sucked in a breath. "It's dried. My son, I truly apologize, but the shirt must come off, and it will be most unpleasant. Hania, send for a guard to restrain him."
As the guard came, Hans fought a sneer as the man grabbed his arms tightly. His anger was swiftly forgotten, however, as his mother and sister began to dampen the shirt and began to try and peel it off. Hans bucked and screamed, every inch of being a stoic and steadfast prince tossed aside and forgotten as the sensation of getting peeled alive shocked his every being. The sun had nearly gone down by the time the shirt lay in tatters on the ground, his back once again a mess of red as Hania scrubbed the last of the dried blood from his wounds. As he gasped for breath, the queen stood in front of him and quickly shoved the guard aside.
"You may leave now, Guardsman." The strictness of her voice was either lost on the guard or ignored, as he shook his head.
"He's a dangerous criminal, MiLady. I can't just-" Alvilda turned on him, ramrod straight and an aura of power and fury surrounding her.
"Be gone with you and hold your tongue, so says your queen!" The guard didn't hesitate this time, leaving quickly and without words.
She grabbed Hans' jaw, forcing him to look at her. "Keep your eyes on me, Johannes. Speak whatever you will to me, but do not move, my son. I am sorry to say the worst is far from over."
Nodding subtly to her daughter, the queen wrapped her arms around Hans' neck, locking her fingers together as Hania took a decanter from within her dress. Queen Alvilda didn't raise a brow, instead commenting, "I always knew it was not only your brothers taking vodka from the distillery."
Seeing it, however, caused her to tighten her grip further as Hania jerked the top from the container and poured it down his back, dropping the glass container when he began to scream and writhe. Joining her mother, she kept him locked in place as the alcohol seeped into his wounds, trying not to wince as he mindlessly clawed at her arms, desperate to rub his back on anything he thought might make the burning stop. Finally, tears won out and he sobbed brokenly into Alvilda's chest as the spasms of pain wrecked his body. Both females stiffened in worry when he went completely limp in his mother's arms, and Alvilda bit her lip and brushed his forehead, whispering sweet nothings into his ear as the tremors continued.
Hania stood and lit a torch from outside the cell, bringing it in and hanging it quietly as the worst began to subside. Kneeling, she took her shawl from underneath her coat and began wrapping it around him as the queen slowly sat him up, keeping him steady as the princess bound the cloth and pinned it shut with a brooch.
Looking at each other, the mother and daughter both sighed heavily and Hania spoke. "I hope we did alright. We can't do much more without getting in trouble with the king."
Disheartened, the two laid the young man on the longest bench, gathered Hania's supplies, and walked out. Alvilda paused, looking back at her son as he began slowly to stir. His green eyes barely open, she sighed and spoke, thinking of the crimes which had gotten him deduced to this. "The first time I held you in my arms, I knew you would never be forgotten by our people. I just didn't think it would be for this."
Turning, she left, unaware that he had roused enough to hear what was said, and that a tear trickled down his cheek.
A/N:: Holy cow, ya'll, that was hard for me to write and proofread, I'm sorry if it made you guys squeamish. In all fairness, this should be the only chapter which gets so descriptive. Poor Hans though, going through so much for something he didn't do. #JusticeforHans Read! Review! Tell me what you guys thought. Next chapter will likely be up within the week.