Author's Note: Warning for self-harm. I didn't intend for this compilation of scenes to have it, saving the really heavy stuff for the actual fic, but I kept toying around a bit with how others would perceive this scene happening in the plot. Please take heed the new M rating (and feel free to unfollow and unfavorite due to this, I'll understand 100%).
Anna couldn't help but roll her eyes at the continued headache the Duke of Weselton continued to pose to Arendelle, even after making a fool of himself on the docks as he was getting sent away from the kingdom, especially even after getting sent to the dungeon to meet with Elsa later. At least Prince Hans seemed to accept whatever fate was given to him and silently made his way to the dungeon as both he and the duke were escorted by a few guards. Heaven forbid the prince join in on the embarrassing spectacle the duke was putting on for the crowd.
Then again, Prince Hans did just blow a huge secret for everyone to see earlier. It was wise to try to lay low for the moment and prevent more freak-outs from everyone else.
Despite how much she wanted to punch him in the face again, she got to hand it to him that he knew a lot more about behaving socially than either her or the duke, even if it was for nefarious reasons. Because if he wasn't, well... He was definitely deserving of having another dip in the fjord.
Unfortunately, the duke didn't end his hysterics when out of the public eye. In fact, it got exacerbated when both he and Hans were told that they would have to behave exceptionally well since they will be sharing a cell together in the dungeon.
"No, I refuse to share a cell with this monster!" the Duke of Weselton cried as he wrestled against the guard holding his arm. "He might go insane and kill me!"
"Due to the damage the dungeon has sustained recently," the guard said, obviously referring to the snow storm Elsa created then dissipated, "this is the only cell that is suitable for holding prisoners."
"A prisoner?" the duke said. "I am not a prisoner! I am a guest to this kingdom and I shall be treated as such!"
"After your behavior earlier?" Princess Anna said as she followed the procession. "As if."
"I do agree with the duke, Princess Anna," Prince Hans said, complying with the ministrations of the guards unlike the nobleman. "I actually might kill him." He gave the duke a small smirk, causing the grey-haired man to start and tug away from the guard even more.
"For everyone's safety, both of you are to surrender your coats and gloves, and turn over all of your pockets," another guard said. "We need to ensure that neither of you have any concealed weapons on you." He looked pointedly at the prince.
The duke grumbled, but complied without question and stripped off his coat. He gave the guards a dirty look, regardless. The prince, on the other hand, seemed to freeze on the spot at the request, his hands anchored on his lapels. Slowly, he reached into the inner folds of his jacket and pulled out something wrapped in an embroidered handkerchief. He handed the bundle to a guard, who unwrapped it to find a small pen knife.
"That's all I have," Prince Hans said. "I'd prefer to keep my coat on, since it is rather cold in these cells."
The duke seemed to pick up on the prince's discomfort and jabbed, "Come now, it's the middle of summer. A youth such as you shouldn't be having any of these maladies at this age."
Hans gave him a threatening glance. The duke cowed away.
"No exceptions, Prince Hans," the guard said.
The prince sighed and walked deeper into the cell, his back facing them. Princess Anna could see him brace himself as the tore off his coat and tossed it over his shoulder for the guards to catch it. He turned on his heel and crossed his arms in front of himself. Despite his body language reading discomfort and nervousness, his face was contorted into mild contempt.
"Happy?" he bit, the notes turning upwards slightly in anxiousness instead of annoyance as he likely intended. He played off his gaff with a neutral expression.
It didn't escape the duke's attention.
"What've you got there, Prince Hans?" the duke asked. "Not hiding another knife up your sleeves? I wouldn't be surprised if you knew a bit of sleight of hand."
"As I mentioned, I'm a bit chilly," Hans said, shivering slightly.
It was obvious it wasn't from the "cold."
Whatever the duke said, it seemed to plant a seed of suspicion in the guards. "Roll up your sleeves, Prince Hans."
"If I refuse?"
"Then we will do so by force."
The prince knitted his eyebrows together, glowering at the duke. "Check his sleeves, and I'll let you check mine."
The duke didn't appear to have anything to hide, so he tugged up yanked up his cuffs with a showy grin while showing the guards he had nothing on him, looking up pointedly at the prince.
Hans bit his lip, his eyes staring in intense concentration at the cuffs of his long-sleeved dress-shirt. He breathed a barely audible breath as he rolled his sleeves up. He visibly grew more confident, his back and shoulders straightening. He showed everyone what laid underneath, void of weapons or any other object that can harm others.
"May I?" Hans asked, peeved.
The guards nodded, and the prince went to tug his sleeves back down. However, the duke intercepted this by grabbing his wrist and pulling it to his spectacled face for closer inspection. Hans's eyes widened and he yowled in pain, yanking his arm back to his body. A quick flash of light erupted from where the duke grabbed him.
Anna gaped.
Wrapped around Hans's wrist was strips of gauze seeping in blood. Angry red rows of lacerations, equidistant yet crowded from one another lined the rest of skin exposed by the rolled-up sleeves.
Hans looked to everyone else with a frightened expression, unmoving and still, his eyes searching for some kind of negative reaction. Then, as if a lever switched in his head, he blinked a few times and relaxed, pulling down the cuffs of his shirt back to be flush with his wrists, hiding the injuries from view.
No one said anything, only silence reverberating through the cell walls for minutes. The prince and the princess locked gazes; his nervous and inquisitive, hers shocked and apologetic.
Finally, he cleared his throat and looked to the floor.
"As it now appears, I should belong in an asylum," Hans said. "However, I'm perfectly fine and you shouldn't worry about it."
The duke harrumphed. "So, you willingly admit those are self-inflicted? Bah, 'fine.' This is not fine, Prince Hans. You are obviously not alright in the head to think any of this is acceptable."
"If only you knew," Hans murmured, shaking his head. He let out a half-hearted chuckle.
Anna gave the duke a reprimanding glance, silencing another jab at the prince from him. Instead, he crossed his arms and looked away, peeved.
To Hans, she only had one question, "Why?"
The prince appeared to consider her monosyllabic question intensely, his mouth in a frown. "Because the man you thought I was is just an illusion."
His ambiguous answer confused her even more. "So, what, are you trying to kill yourself?" As she thought about it, she probably should have worded that better. Or maybe said it nicer.
The question made Hans glower at her, his jaw setting as he huffed a long breath out through his nostrils. He caught himself and rearranged his features into one that was friendly and amicable.
"Actually, I'm just trying to keep myself from killing you," the prince said with a smile.
Author's Note: And... yup... yet another scene to add in here. This was mainly just an exercise to see how this scene in the story would play out. I may or may not follow the series of events for when the actual fic is written, but it was a good way for me to gauge my ability. I have a few more scene-plans in my "write when I feel like it" queue for when I'm not working on Immurement (a.k.a. long car rides, line-waiting, etc.).
Anyway, thanks for reading!