The streets of Arendelle were alive with anticipation and excitement. Lights and laurels decorated every inch of town, people ran in and out of shops preparing to look their best or have enough in stock to last through the entire week. The festival had crept up on everyone faster than they all could have imagined. All they had to do was blink, and the first night was upon them.

"Isn't this exciting?" Anna beamed against the railing of the balcony, turning her head to find her sister smiling as well. "This is the first real party we've had in a long time. I can't wait. There's going to be soup, roast, and ice cream! There'll be dancing! Music! Elsa, come on!" The redhead took her sister's hands and spun her around. "It's going to be magical."

Elsa giggled and turned her head toward the town, still holding her sister's hand. "It will be." Her lips then curled into a slight frown at the sight of boats coming in. She hadn't told Anna about the guest list, she'd debated ever since her meeting with the council on whether she should or not. She glanced at her sister's glowing blue eyes, latching onto the everlasting hope and happiness in them Elsa had vowed to never shatter again, but there was nothing wrong with a heads up, right? Her lips parted, and her fingers subconsciously tightened around her sister's.

"Anna, I-"

"Your majesty, your highness."

Blonde and russet heads turned to see Kai in the doorway bent at the waist in a bow. "The first round of guests has arrived."

A wide smile came onto Anna's lips. "Then what in the world are we waiting for!" She tightened her hold on Elsa's hand and bolted past Kai who only laughed. The castle itself was a blur for the sisters who reached the foyer in seconds flat.

"Who are we meeting first?" Anna straightened out her olive summer dress, taming her hair which was done in a pair of braids.

"I'm not quite sure," Elsa replied, her posture regal and composed as she watched the door. "I guess we'll see, won't we?"

Anna nodded as the doors opened, and her eyes went wide. Elsa's jaw set. She hadn't been expecting them so soon.

Emerging from the doorway was a man who boasted auburn hair that was painfully familiar. His build was toned and strong, elegance and power all combined. His white suit and the gold attached to it in the form of epaulets and linings had him glimmering. The woman by his side looked even more beautiful. Her dark hair cascaded down past her shoulder in luscious waves. Her emerald eyes were brighter than any star and held more depth than the ocean, and her skin was flawless.

Do people like that really exist? Anna thought as the examined the woman. Why is she allowed to have curves too? Her eyes narrowed. And why does he look like Hans?

"Jehan." Elsa greeted with an obvious strain in her voice. "Melody."

The red-haired man broke away from the woman by his side, approaching Elsa with a tranquil smile. "Queen Elsa." He bowed respectfully toward the Queen. It was the type of gesture Anna had only ever seen knights who'd pledged their lives to the country give. "It's an honor to be here. If I'll be blunt, I'm rather surprised after the fiasco with my brother. I'm thankful you've decided to give the Southern Isles a second chance."

Epiphany hit Anna like a slap in the face. This was one of Hans's brothers. Her eyes raked over him, her mind burned with questions, and also anger.

So he's not sorry for the fiasco that happened days ago? I swear to God! Everyone from that place is just... Aggrrhhh! It's so frustrating! I mean, really! How hard is it to know where your brother is? I know where Elsa is all the time... well, most of the time... and at least she isn't a psychopath who-

"Princess." She startled at her own name. Watching him straighten, she realized he'd been groomed for just this, diplomacy just as Elsa had been. There was something too natural about the way he spoke, the way he held himself. He could have been playing the both of them just like Hans had and they'd be none the wiser.

"It's a pleasure to meet you." Jehan picked up on the hesitancy in her voice, holding his hand out to the woman beside him who took it gratefully.

"This is my wife, Melody." The woman curtsied.

"It's a pleasure. It's my first time in Arendelle, it truly is lovely."

Anna wanted to scowl at the woman, she wanted to question everything about her, everything about them. She had the unnecessary urge to tackle Jehan to the ground and make him pay for actions that weren't his own. He's not Hans... Although the reminder was frequent, it was still difficult to hold to all the same.

"I can see the castle all the way from here, Queen Elsa, perched on the North Mountain." Jehan spoke, snapping Anna out of her strangely violent thoughts, but the content of the sentence had her eyes narrowing even more. Go ahead, she snarled to herself, call her a freak. I dare you. "It truly is beautiful. I hope I get to witness your magic in person."

Anna's jaw would have gone slack if it weren't for decency. He's... nice?

Anna caught Elsa smiling, seemingly coming to the same realization she had. "Thank you, I'd be glad to show you a few things as long as you're here."

Anna's gaze darted between the two of them, eventually settling on Jehan, on his eyes. Violet. Exotic and bright violet. His brow quirked up at her, and Anna immediately turned her gaze away. Did he catch me staring...?

"You don't have to be embarrassed, Princess." Jehan chuckled.

He caught me staring...

The red-head brought her eyes back up to Jehan. He's tall too...

"I was born with a mutation." He explained. "They change. They're normally blue, but they have a mind of their own." He sighed. "The doctors never could quite figure out what to do, so they just left it alone."

Anna gazed at him warily but nodded at the explanation. The purple hue itself seemed to smile at her laugh at her.

"My staff will take you to your chambers." Elsa's eyes darted between the two of them. "I hope you enjoy your stay."

The four, or rather three since Anna didn't contribute much, said their goodbyes, and the couple was walking across the room, turning right, and they were gone.

Anna continued to greet the guests along with her sister, unable to still shake her unease away about the Prince from the Southern Isles.

/

"You never told me why." Melody's curious tone had Jehan chuckling.

"You just never asked."

"I have to. You would just never tell me. You'd always say let's go out for a ride, or let me read you something."

A bright sigh left Jehan. "Guilty as charged."

The couple locked eyes with one another, wordless love passing between the air. It was these moments Jehna realized how lucky he truly was. The arranged marriage that had bound him to Melody hadn't been their any of their ideas, but they'd come to love each other. It certainly helped that both of them found one another attractive.

"I could never talk like this with my brothers." Jehan's fingers intertwined themselves with his wife's who gladly reciprocated.

"What do you mean?"

"They were just so... stupid."

Melody laughed brightly. "Well, most men are like that."

"How could you know? You didn't grow up with any of them."

"Maybe not, but I married someone who's surrounded by too many."

Jehan smiled, and inversely, Melody's smile vanished as her lips pressed into a hard line. "Speaking of... are you worried about him?"

The prince quirked a brow. "Who?"

"Hans?"

Silence.

"Why would I be?"

Melody scowled. "Because he was thrown off a boat by your own father."

Again, Jehan said nothing, and the woman stopped their descent down the hall, stepping in between him and the rest of the corridor. Her eyes were soft now, pleading. "Why do you hate him? He did nothing to you."

Jehan looked away, unable to meet the woman's eyes. "I don't know."

"Liar."

"I. Don't. Know."

Silence. Again.

"Will you tell me later?"

Jehan met her eyes, hesitating before he spoke, "Yes."

"Do you promise?"

Without hesitation, "I promise."

They continued their stroll, and the spirit inside of Jehan cackled all the way to their room.

/

Hans looked worse than he'd originally imagined. Maybe he hadn't had a decent shower in days, maybe he wasn't as well fed as he used to be, maybe he'd gotten a little thinner, but this? This was a disaster.

The mirror didn't lie, but that didn't mean the former prince had to like the truth he saw. His hair was still long, down to his jaw unruly and had specks of dirt practically embedded into it from his lack of hygiene. The shirt he'd borrowed as a substitute since Ravian's magic had worn off, was so brown it looked like it was painted in mud. He felt disgusting even being near it let alone wearing it.

His sideburns were the only thing that remained semi-groomed. It took them a while to grow out anyway, but his chin and jaw had started to develop a full-grown beard so thick he could barely see the outline of his face.

He closed his eyes, forcing his fingers through his tangled copper mane. God, he looked homeless. Although it wasn't too far off.

The room suddenly felt bigger, quieter than normal. Even with the shouts coming from the outside concerning decorating and preparing the town for the ball, it felt lonely. He didn't want to admit why even though he knew the answer. It was just him desperate for someone else. It certainly wasn't that he missed Ravian.

The man was a complete egomaniac, self-centered in every sense of the word. While he might have dressed nice, that was the only good thing about him. it wasn't how his laugh filled the room, how those eyes looked at him with an intensity he'd only ever seen with his father, but it was different with him. It felt different in a way Hans couldn't describe, and for someone who'd once been so adept in language, he became frustrated that he couldn't find the right word. It would bug him all day long.

He opened his eyes, and immediately stumbled back as the first thing he saw was black. He blinked rapidly, and the full picture began to reveal itself to him. The black he'd seen were eyes, a familiar desolate abyss. Long haggled grey hair, horrific posture, and a menacing aura. Wrinkled, dirt-covered skin. The aura of magic that surrounded her was undeniable and unmistakable.

The Maker.

Hans's eyes frantically shifted to the tall figure behind her. He had the same narrowed eyes, those carmine eyes that he'd been thinking about moments ago. His arms were crossed over his chest, and he was in a new outfit. A thin scarlet undershirt accented the bulging muscle underneath, and a crimson vest lined with whorls of gold in sporadic patterns covered the rest of his chest, along with long pants of the same golden and darkened red.

The spirit's look was impeccable as always, but his view of the man was soon cut off by the Maker, shifting forward in an unnatural way. Hans blinked and she was in front of him, staring him down with no trace of a soul in her eyes. "You dare hurt my child?!" The woman shrieked, her bony fingers gripping around Hans's neck.

She didn't squeeze, but he could feel the threat of magic building in her palm. "Apologize!"

The prince looked at Ravian who was staring at him coldly, giving him nothing at all. He forced himself to meet the woman's eyes, but he had to look away. There was nothing to look at. "I'm sorry..." He managed through the pounding of his heart. he felt the sweat pooling at his hairline. Everything seemed to cave in on him. The world began to spin, and the woman's voice was the only thing he could hear.

"I would do anything for my children." Her voice held more threats than any sword. "And whoever dares to hurt them will suffer, do you understand me?"

Hans could only give a meek nod, and the woman's fingers released his neck. He fell to his knees, body trembling.

When he finally found his composure and looked up, ready to face the darkness of the woman's eyes, he only found Ravian's sunkissed skin, then his eyes peering down at him like a master would his slave. "You look awful."

Hans didn't know how to reply. Ravian had just gone and told on him like a child at recess and that was all he had to say? He bit his lip and rose hesitantly from the ground. "Yes. Well, in no part thanks to you."

The two locked eyes and Ravian tilted his head back laughing. "You should have seen your face! You were terrified!"

Hans's eyes rolled into the back of his head on their own. Some form of normalcy came over the pair again, and Hans was grateful for that much. "You're a prick."

"Maybe." The spirit shrugged, "But at least I look good. You, on the other hand, look like you just got run over by a heard of cows who couldn't hold their shit in."

"You're helping so much. First you bring your demon of a mother here to threaten me and now you say I look like horse shit."

"I brought her here because you needed to learn a lesson." Ravian's hands went limp at his sides as he approached Hans. "You got away with too much as a prince, disrespecting others included. I won't let you disrespect me. I gave you power, I gave you what you wanted. I just want respect in return."

"So reciprocation?" Hans countered. "If you get to look at my thoughts, I get to look at yours."

"I do so with permission," Ravian growled. "I told you that I see only what is at the forefront of your mind. I go no deeper than that unless you let me. Memories like the one you saw... they don't belong to you. Maybe I would have shared it with you when the time came, but that wasn't that time."

Ravian clapped his hands on Hans's shoulders. "Now enough. It's time to get you ready. You have a ball in a few hours and this is going to take some time. Now sit."

The spirit pushed Hans until his knees hit the bedframe, forcing the former prince to sit. With a wave of his hand, the spirit had Hans's hair back to its normal, clean-cut self. It was shorter, not a strand of hair out of place, and it was somehow cleaner too. Hans didn't question it, but he raised a brow as Ravian came closer.

With another flourish, a dagger had found its way into Ravian's hand.

"What on earth are you doing with that?" Hans's jaw clenched as one hand gripped the sheets while the other curled into a tight fist.

"Will you relax? I'm going to clean that disgusting beard."

The next thing Hans knew, Ravian was close.

Too close.

The former prince was being straddled, the spirit's hips resting against Hans's own, tan fingers holding the former prince's jaw in one hand and the dagger in the other. His throat bobbed as Ravian's fingers lifted Hans's chin, exposing the underside of his neck.

"Is this necessary?" Hans breathed, for a moment savoring the scent of vanilla on the man before him. It was strangely intoxicating, yet overbearing at the same time. He'd never felt so powerless in his life, not even on the fjord. Even while getting punched in the face by the Princess, he still had dignity. Now, he felt bare. Completely naked with Ravian only centimeters away from him. Hans shivered as Ravian's concentrated breath tickled his neck, and the cool blade of the dagger made its first run through the unruly beard.

"Yes." Ravian's voice was low and smokey, a luxurious contrast when compared to the brightness of his laughter and appearance overall. "I don't want it all gone, Hans. I think you'd look rather nice with a faint outline. Believe me, you'll thank me when I'm done."

Hans's heart pounded in his chest. The proximity, the implied intimacy of it all was too difficult for him to comprehend, but there was nothing else to do but focus on it. Occasionally, he caught sight of Ravian's strong jaw, clenched in casual focus. His breaths were still warm against his neck, and the fresh mint that seeped into the aroma around him was infuriating. Was it a crime to find it the slightest bit alluring? He could imagine the outrage of his father if he'd heard such thoughts.

The former prince tilted his head away in an attempt to escape whatever he feared might overcome him. He didn't for sure know what it was, but it was there, something deep down, a spark only Ravian could ignite.

Fingers suddenly clenched around his jaw, turning his face back to where it was. His eyes were forced to meet those of the spirit. "Stop moving," Ravian mumbled, causing Hans's throat to bob again. "Do you want to go to that ball with a battle scar on your neck?"

Hans settled for tilting only his eyes away. "It would hardly scar." He protested. "You'd barely knick me."

The spirit hummed. "Did your tutors never teach you anatomy, my prince?"

Those words. Something about those words sent a fire through Hans more intense that Ravian's flames.

"Some very important veins are in your neck. That's why people slice at it."

The sentence was simple, but the way he said it was disarming. "That's not anatomy, that's common sense, but you wouldn't do it on purpose."

The knife stopped against Hans's beard. "Then you don't know me."

Hans was silent as Ravian resumed his grooming. "I would if you gave me a reason to."

There was nothing else said between them, and about an agonizing ten minutes later, Ravian backed away. "Have a look." He motioned toward the mirror with a smug, almost triumphant look on his face.

Hans eyed him suspiciously, but rose, happy to be rid of the spirit's weight as he walked in front of the mirror.

Pleasant surprise crept up onto his face. Ravian was right, he did look rather dashing. The outline made him look a bit older, more regal in a way he never thought he'd look. It framed his jaw perfectly as if each hair had been stitched on by a master seamstress.

"Alright, no more gawking. We still haven't gotten to the best part yet."

Hans turned his head to face Ravian, but the spirit's eyes were on him, rather on his figure. A sight that once again made Hans's strangely aware of how his figure. That pensive look was always a sight, even though it was one he rarely saw.

Ravian suddenly straightened, taming his black textured hair. "Face me." He commanded with a tone that forbade defiance.

Hans did as he was told, and the spirit held his hand outstretched, chuckling to himself. "Just wait, your Highness. Every woman in that room will be swooning when I'm done with you."

Hans opened his mouth to protest, but the breath and the words left him as fire enveloped his vision. He was suddenly at the center of a hurricane of flames, and out of pure terror, he shut his eyes, curling his fingers tightly around his pants.

"Relax." He heard Ravian's voice from beyond the flames. It was calming, the type of assuagement he'd needed at that very moment. "I'm not going to hurt you."

Hans suddenly realized he wasn't being burned alive. Hesitantly, he opened his eyes, but even if the flame wasn't charring him to death, watching it flicker around him chaotically was too much. He shut his eyes again, but let his shoulders relax, then his arms, and then the rest of his body. His arms went limp at his sides, and thought he heard Ravian's approval from the other side of the red abyss.

He could feel the fabric on him shifting, changing and altering, sometimes disappearing. He felt lighter with each adjustment, yet heavy with power, with pride and attention. Everything he desired was present in the flames, in what was taking place inside of them. He wanted to voice an appreciation or something, but no words could come from his mouth. Not yet.

As soon as they came, the flames were gone, but Hans was too afraid to open his eyes. It was only Ravian's ecstatic laughter that had forced one eye open. The smile on the spirit's face was brighter than his fire. It was more egotistical than the rest of his disposition. "I think this is my best work yet."

Hans's other eye complied out of curiosity, and he turned to face the mirror again, this time, it wasn't surprise on his face, it was utter astonishment.

The suit jacket itself was black velvet, cut at the waist to put an emphasis on his strong waist. On the surface were a myriad of laurels and whorls in a crimson color that sparkled and glimmered when the light hit it just right. The lapels of the jacket were the same shade of crimson, and the golden epaulets on the shoulders added the power and luxury of gold. The vest that had somehow made its way onto Hans was black, but upon reaching to touch it, was softer than any animal skin that had ever been used as a carpet or rug. The trousers were black as well, bearing the crimson accouterments of the jacket.

What pulled the rest of the outfit together was the cravat tied against his neck. The burgundy shade was too rich, too expensive looking even for a prince, hell, even a king. The material was the purer than silk. He wasn't even sure if it had a name. it was fantastical, magical. Everything about this outfit was just...

"Do you like it?"

Hans's eyes cut to Ravian who looked like he'd just won the joust of the century. He stood straight with his hands on his hips, an expectant look in his eyes.

"It's.." Hans could barely find the words. "It's very nice."

Ravian tilted his head back in laughter. "Your face says it more than very nice. I'm glad you like it." The spirit walked toward Hans, straightening out the former prince's jacket and pants. "You look like you were never exiled."

That earned the spirit an eye roll.

"Don't be so fragile, it's a compliment."

The spirit's grin grew wider. "Now, all we need are these..."

Another flourish from Ravian's hand and three cloaks, ones of ice blue, fuschia, and olive green appeared stacked in Hans's arm. He clenched his jaw, knowing exactly what, or rather who they were for.

"And you're ready."

To all the people who reviewed asking for an update, here it is! Lol!

Important A/N:

Okay, first of all, hi! Lol I know it's been a while. School has been absolutely kicking my butt. Luckily it's about to wind down and summer is about to start. Another update most likely won't come until school is over. (The ball is going to be so fun by the way teeheeheeeeeee prepare yourselves.)

Anyway, while that's just a heads up, I have a more important announcement concerning the story. I've been thinking it over, and while this was meant to be a Helsa story when I first got the idea for it, I'm not sure if it's going to go that way anymore. Seeing the characters develop has made me realize that, while Elsa and Hans have a very interesting dynamic that I like to work with, I'm not sure if it will be romantic. Take it, it might just be a very very very slow burn, but I'm not quite sure. I'll have some more clarification on that in the next chapter or maybe a few chapters from now.

I hope you enjoyed that chapter! And thanks for putting up with the delay!

P.S. If I were to have fanart of this story drawn, it would totally be this scene with Ravian shaving Hans. That was one of the scenes I'd had planned for a while and it was probably the scene I was most excited to write