GTG: I've been waiting to post this chapter! RR

"Excuse me, my queen," says a muffled voice. Elsa turns around and smiles brightly. There's her sister, with a tendril of her own hair under her nose, like a long mustache. "May I have this dance?" Anna asks in her best manly voice, offering her hand.

Elsa laughs. "You may." She placed her hand in hers.

Anna drops her 'mustache' and beams. "Oh great! I thought I would never get the chance!" With that being said, she grips Elsa's hip and pulls her forward to her shorter form. Anna starts waltzing, and she can admit, taking the lead isn't her strongest skill but she wants to impress Elsa. With her dance and her hairstyle; two braids, pinned up and secured with Elsa's favorite purple flower picked from the gardens.

"You're wearing gloves again," notes Anna, rubbing the purple material. Her sister rarely wears them. Maybe a few times in a year.

"Well when many ask for your hand to dance, you can't help but wonder if their hands are clean or not."

"Oooh," Anna allows her finger to slip under her glove, rubbing her soft skin. "My hands are clean."

"Oh I do hope so," Elsa says, as she takes the lead of their waltzing. Anna's dancing is a bit off. Nevertheless, Elsa is surprised by her pace and gestures. "When did you learn how to dance?"

Anna visibly blush. "Around the same time you did. I um…" She says something inherently.

"Pardon?"

"Ikindawatchya…."

"Gotta speak up, Anna."

"I watched you!— every time. Upon that empty pedestal, where the small angel statue used to be." Yes, she knows she can a bit of a creep, but only with Elsa— and besides, it was only the servants and Elsa in the palace. No one else (set aside the doomed prisoners). People are more exciting than her life. And now that the doors are open, there's more excitement.

"Ah," Elsa says. "Well, your watching paid off well. We can set classes for you to polish your skills if you would like,"

"Would you be able to come? Or you can teach me!" Anna adds hopefully. Dancing with her sister— like now, but alone— would be better.

"If I have free time, of course, I'll visit. But I can't teach you."

"That's fine,"

Elsa hums. "As you know, the festival won't stop until after your birthday. And on your birthday, the biggest party yet. You can have everything you want. How does that sound?"

"Um— awesome! Oh! Can we have kites that look like ducks?"

"Never heard of that, but of course—"

"And I hope you order chocolate fondue!"

Elsa playfully rolls her eyes. "How can I ever,"

"Chocolate fountain! And a picnic!"

"A picnic?" Elsa questions. "With all the townsfolk?" She has never heard that idea. But it doesn't sound too bad.

"No— just you." Anna corrects. "Only you. In the gardens! with you!"

Elsa smiles. "I can make that happen," Anything for her 18th birthday.

They danced for a few minutes when Anna thinks she caught sight of fiery red hair though the dancing people, "I'm going to… stuff some chocolate in my face— Wanna join me?" Even though she has seen her ate few.

"Ah— no. I've already had my share." Elsa says.

"Suit yourself." Anna parts from Elsa, bows, and smile at Elsa. "Try not to get drunk again! I don't want you to carry me to my room again."

The queen laughs heartily. This— this brings something pleasant to swell in her chest. Elsa's laugh is delightful. And Anna should. Go. Go stuff her face with chocolate as she said she will do and not stare at Elsa— like, like she some sort of goddess (which could very be true. Elsa fits the description)—move, move, MOVE Anna before you say something stupid, lie, like, I love you— but that's not a stupid thing to say. Maybe bad timing and would confuse Elsa and Anna will be emb—

"Anna?"

Anna blushed furiously and hurries away, leaving Elsa a little confused but she locates a servant serving a dark red drink and decides to drop the strange occurrence.

She doesn't even get the chocolate. She moves through the crowd, eyes cast to the floor. She should forget whatever just happened. Don't let it bother her, that she was staring oddly at her sister. Surely Elsa won't question about it because she'll forget. Yup. that's it. She'll forget and save Anna the embarrassment. But what if she doesn't forget about it? And act weirdly around her next time. I could always pretend to forget it. Yeah, that— that would be the better option. She'll pretend that never—

She accidentally bumps into someone. Without looking, her hand instinctively reach out and grab that person's (gloved) hand— saving them from an embarrassing fall. She discovers who hand it belongs to. "This time I caught you!" she says brightly. It doesn't take much effort for Anna to pull Hans upright (—and she hopes he doesn't notice her unnatural strength for a princess.)

His other gloved hand circles her small waist, convincing them into a dancing position. "We really need to stop meeting like this," he says, his voice deliciously deep.

"Oh, I don't mind," she smirks, "It's always nice."

"You look beautiful," the prince compliments as they weave through the dancing people.

"Thank you— and you look extravagant!" He always does, especially in his white overcoat. It brings out the color of his fiery hair and his green eyes.

They dance for a while, lost in one's eyes. Anna is pleased that her pacing with Hans is decent enough (though she wishes her pacing was like this when she was dancing with Elsa). He's very gentle and patient— like her sister. The difference is that strange smell emitting from him. It isn't as terrible as before. She can ignore it and focus on the other pleasantries of him… like his smile.

"I— I have a confession to share," Hans says out the blue, chuckling nervously. For some reason, Anna is very interested. Perhaps it's because Hans seems to always carry himself with a lot of confidence.

The word 'confession' sounds troubling. So to ease his trouble, she says, "Like a secret?" she whispers excitedly because of secret sounds so much more fun than confession.

He briefly avoids her eyes. "It shouldn't be."

"I promise not to tell. I like secrets." She holds a few important ones.

Hans matches her smile. "I think about you a lot— every second. Your smile, your laughter, your eyes…"

Anna laughs. "That's a secret? I'm pretty sure I can come up with a better secret than that."

"Oh? Tell me a secret?"

She opens her mouth— she wasn't gonna say I'm a half-vampire right here amongst these people. And Hans can wait a little longer until she shares that fact, so she was about to say, to this day I never learnt how to snap my fingers but a thought crosses her mind and Anna smirks. "How about I show you a secret?" she whispers close to his face.

She doesn't wait for a response as she leaves his personal space and heads out of the ballroom. She knows that he'll follow her. He wants the same thing as her— another time to be alone. And she has the perfect place. He follows her a few feet behind. Good. They don't need to draw anyone's attention. Everyone's absorbed in lively music, food, and drinks. Anna runs her tongue over her fangs to make sure they are short.

(they are)

(what she or Hans don't know is that Elsa watches them smoothly slips out of the ballroom. No one else hasn't noticed. Elsa counts to sixty, before placing her drink on a platter that a passing servant was holding. She follows them…)

She brings him to the gardens. Why? Because— this is the perfect place to be alone. And she wants to impress him by the beauty of the gardens.

She twirls around, walking backward. Her feet are familiar with this place. She sees his awe. He takes in the sight around him. One moment, he takes off his gloves and rubs his fingers on the tips of a pink flower. Anna makes a noise that sort of sounds like a sigh and a giggle. Hans notices her staring and grins.

The princess leads them to a bench— not the one closer to the building but the one almost in the middle of the garden. Here are where the white roses grow. There's a clearing— the soft grass looks inviting to lie down on but she must be genteel in front of this handsome prince. Anna gracefully takes a seat on the bench. Hans follows her actions.

"I must say… this— this is beautiful," he says almost like he's out of breath, though the walk there wasn't strenuous.

"Really?" Anna asks.

"Yes— it resembles you. Beautiful and… full of life. So… pure."

Anna blushes. He does have his way with words—

"I would like it if our wedding is here."

(yeah, he certainly does have his way with words because—) Heat rush up to her neck and to her cheeks. (( —what?!)) "W-wedding?

A mixture of confusion, regret and fear cross Hans; face. "Oh!— assuming— assuming that we are to get married— which isn't a bad thought— but if, if, you… may I say something crazy?"

"Yes?"

He quickly gets one knee and offers his hand. "Would you marry me?"

On impulse, she stands (—because she always wanted this moment. After seeing those pictures and reading stories she always wanted this) "Can I say something even crazier?!"

"Yes!"

"Yes!" she places her hand in his. Hans does something odd: he makes a move as if he is going to a ring on her finger, only to realize that he doesn't have a ring. He chuckles.

"I don't have a ring yet— but— but take this rose here—" He reaches for a rose by a nearby bush. At contact with, Hans hisses and snatch his hand back. For a split second, Anna isn't sure why her teeth lengths and the feeling of her eyes changing hue. She knows that she turns around fast enough for Hans to not see her in this sinister state. Anna's hands cover her mouth and nose but it's far too late— she can smell Hans' blood. She should run, like now, but her feet refuse to comply. She feels that if she makes a move, she'll regret it.

(he pricked his finger intentionally. he hardly felt the pinch but he made sure the blood was enough to smell.) "Princess Anna?" he calls out, faking the concern in his voice.

Anna finds it difficult to control herself. If only Elsa gave her blood when she asked, she would be fine. "I think we should head back," she says all too quickly.

"What's the matter? Did I make a mistake—"

No. I did, Anna thinks. Bringing him here. Being alone with him. "—No! Please, let's go—"

His bare hand on her shoulder startles her, and she makes the second mistake tonight: facing him, allowing him to see the dark side of her. Her fangs, her red eyes….

She expects him to scream in horror. Or yell in horror— (Hans' doesn't look like the type to scream—) or run in horror. Or anything in horror. However, her expectations aren't met because, Hans' expression is— is nothing. Isn't he scared? Disgusted? "You aren't frightened," she says dumbly.

"Why would I?"

She squints. Deep down, she knows something is wrong. Not about her but him. And she should focus on that feeling of suspicion. Not the feeling of relief that someone— the person she is going to get married very soon— knows her secret and isn't showing a lick of fear. "I don't know," Anna responds with a watery smile. She starts to debate whether she should tell her sister that someone besides the chosen three knows about her biological half. Though Anna can imagine Elsa anger— or hesitation— about this man, it would make sense that she does. He can be sworn into secrecy.

Then Hans' says something strange.

"It's natural for you to react like this." He sucks on his thumb— (this image does not sit well with Anna's imagination…)

"Wha— you knew?"

"Of course."

The next thing happens quite fast: Hans raises his other hand and blows into his palm. Air, dust— whatever it is (it's really magical white ashes that Hans' had created with his abilities)— hits her face. It burns and stings and hurts her eyes and nose. She's hysterically coughing, taking a moment to get on her knees. She's trying to rub away whatever is on her face. She only feels how dry and (oddly) tough her skin is.

"Did you know?" Hans asks calmly.

Know what? But she can't say that. Not when her throat is becoming thick, and endless tears streams from her eyes.

"Did you know that you're a very important vampire? The one who will doom humanity? No, I suppose not."

What? How—? What's he talking about? Anna tries to clear her lungs. Why is everything so hot?

"I know. I know. Because I'm an Ignis— a vampire hunter, if you may. God— I've been looking for you for years. And when I found you, oh! it was so easy. You were desperate for love, and that was my advantage. All I had to do was get you alone."

It's like ice, not Elsa's ice, but the type of ice you feel when you experience fear, wash over her as she realizes, he used me.

"Everything fell into place. And now… here we are… I'm sorry. Truth to be told— you are pure. But I have to eliminate you, Anna."

Eliminate— as in kill. She knows this. And she doesn't know why— actually you do, because he said he was a vampire hunter. In a desperate attempt, Anna grabs his pants leg. Begging? Is that what I'm going to do. "Hans— please."

Her eyes are full of tears and his blurry figure squat in front of her. His hand— he had put on his gloves at some point— cups her chin. "I'm sorry Anna. I hope you can understand. You— your death— will save all of humanity. Think about your sister. You'll save her." He stands and moves out of her touch. Anna's hand falls and she grips the soft grass. "I'll say a quick prayer."

He begins to murmur in a different language. Latin perhaps. Or Dutch. She isn't too sure. Her nose and throat are disabled. Hans concludes his short prayer in English, "By my fire, I shall set you free!"

Everything is a bit blurry but she can still see that he has unsheathed his sword— why didn't she noticed when they were dancing?!— and raised it. The blade ignites, it's fire very bright. Anna tries to control her cough. She wants to scream. Scream for Elsa to come to her rescue. Her throat isn't allowing that. She briefly thinks that she will never see her sister again, never hear her sister's voice and laughter. "Help," she manages to cough out.

This was a mistake; bringing Hans to her garden. And certainly, it was a mistake to fall in love with another person to abate her strange affections for her sister. Anna hangs her head and accepts this fate.

Hans sees her surrender and pities her. He'll make this sweep clean and easy, so she won't feel pain. He brings down his fiery sword.

An ice sword parries his blow and a heeled foot kicks him in the chest.