Hans slept deeply, dreamlessly, his body finally so exhausted that it relented and let the restful kind of sleep steal back over him. It helped that he was given a bed, cotton sheets and a wool-padded quilt, that his room had a door instead of cell bars. He had space enough to light a lamp on a bedside table, hang clothes—if he acquired more—and walk one way to another. There was no window in the room, a suggestion of Egon's, and nothing more dangerous than the matches he could use to light the lamp, which he left burning all night. He felt clean, as well, having scrubbed himself vigorously for a good half an hour after their meeting with the Queen. The only person he allowed into the bath room was Linnéa; she'd already seen the damage done his body and was particularly gentle with him.
The meeting had been the last conscious thought he had as he had fallen asleep.
Queen Elsa swept into her sitting room in a natural, regal manner, pausing to look at the three manacled prisoners before passing them all for the shuttered balcony on the far side of the room. Anna and Kristoff followed her, though neither moved farther than shutting the door behind them. Without turning around, the Queen said to her audience, "Sit."
Egon, Linnéa, and Hans sat down on the same couch, and how he ended up in the middle was muddled in his brain, but it felt safer than being close to either Anna and Kristoff or Elsa alone. Again, Anna and Kristoff didn't move, though Hans thought the latter only did so out of support for his fiancé. When Elsa had to look over her shoulder, at her sister, Anna finally condescended to sit, though she dragged her feet and chose the furthest chair possible, Kristoff remaining standing, with one hand on a thin shoulder.
"I will not put you to death," Elsa began, back still turned, but words aimed at the only one who was actively seeking his own demise. She let that blunt statement sink in, and Hans was the alone in not being relieved that the option was off the table, feeling a bubble of hysteria try to sneak up into his throat. His brothers would have already sent men after him. If Elsa decided to send him back to the Southern Isles, he would take a flying leap off that balcony in a heartbeat.
The Queen had turned around, her blue eyes sliding over them. "You or your companions will tell me all the 'punishments' you suffered at the hands of your brothers. I will not make you speak of them in front of… anyone else, but I will not be asked to shelter you without full disclosure." A sick knot squished the hysteria back down. Elsa moved away from the balcony, stride carrying her to the back of the settee across from Hans, Egon, and Egon's wife. Feeling his lips tingle with numbness, he realized he had pressed them together tightly in an effort to hold back the sick and the hysteria.
"When that is done, you'll either find yourselves on a boat, or in sanctuary." The Queen, face set in a dignified mask, wasn't bluffing. She again gave pause let the statement sink in, quietly analyzing their faces before asking of Egon and his wife, "Now, who are the two of you?"
In the dim light of his lamp, Hans found himself staring at the wall opposite, body nearly paralyzed by the lethargy of good sleep. Unable to remember when he had opened his eyes, awareness was something that had only recently come back to him. Nothing much was really on his mind, aside from the off-hand thought that sleeping in a bed was a luxury he'd never take for granted again. His eyes shifted to the small flame in the lamp, following the shadows cast by flickers of the light. What was truly peaceful about the bed and the blankets and the actual door was the safety of it—the civility. This room was not a room that some stranger would enter in the dark hours of the night, not the kind of walls that would catch blood beat out of wounds, hold handprints that were bloody from having the fingernails removed. This was a room that was meant to be restful. Hans didn't even notice falling back to sleep, entranced by the shadows on the walls.
"Anna, Kristoff, if you would be so kind as to escort Linnéa to the Servants' wing? See to it that she is fed, given a chance to bathe, and a change of clothes," Elsa said, having been introduced to the veteran and his wife. To the woman, she added kindly, "Your husband won't be too long. You'll be asked to wait for him there." Linnéa nodded, sent one last look at her husband and the invalid she'd nursed on the boat, then followed Anna and Kristoff as they left. The Queen's gaze followed them out, but returned to the two men after a moment. She looked somewhat pensive, and moved to sit on the settee, settling down properly, similar to how she had sat on the throne.
Hans knew what was expected of him in the conversation, but he was no more ready to talk about the evils done him in the dungeon by his brothers' command than he was to look up from his folded, nail-less hands in his lap. Egon looked only slightly more ready to talk about it. "Will you start, Hans?" asked a gentle voice, coaxing his eyes to meet the source's eyes. Hans frowned, face creasing in the over-used places, having lines of suffering that belied his youthful age. No sound came from his throat, even if his lips parted to speak.
"Your Majesty—beggin' your pardon, of course—but I don't believe this be the type of things one ever tells. The things… they're things you take to the grave," Egon said, trying for mercy, Hans reasoned.
The Queen's eyes didn't leave Hans' face, "I used to think covering up a problem and burying feelings was the best way to make it go away, to control it. I'm certain you remember how that turned out for me, Hans. Negotiating with me will not be possible unless I know everything; I will not harbor you otherwise." The impasse again; Queen Elsa did not intend to run blindly into the crosshairs of a bolt aimed at Hans' heart. If she was standing up against the Princes of the Southern Isles, she would know why.
Egon opened his mouth to speak, but Hans' voice rushed out and gave the three pause, unprepared for him to begin, "They started with disowning me and locking me away." Hans was as surprised that he had said it as Elsa and Egon were, but he knew the stakes. He had one chance to find refuge. In a way, his mouth took over, his mind checking out while he enumerated the "grievances" that Elsa needed to hear, the verbal torrent coming easier, like it was his innards being pulled out through his mouth at a fast pace.
"That would have been enough for my eldest brother, but the next spoke up, and on and on. All twelve wanted their own revenge, I suppose. The second eldest wanted to make me a pauper in jail, so he did. The third wanted me flogged, so I was." Hans stood, needing, though his mind was checked out, to release some nervous tension in a short pace. The manacles were still on, which made the attempt at pulling his shirt up his back difficult, but he had to. This was the truth, ugly as it was, and having been pushed into a corner to get it out of him brought the hysteria back. "I counted thirty-five, though it was only to have been thirty in the beginning. I've never had a chance to look at them," a laugh escaped him as the shirt finally was pulled off his back, over his head, and rested on his arms, pale and malnourished. His eyes found Elsa's, and without the full participation of his mind, he was unable to process the look in them. "The fourth, Jerrik, had me in the stocks for three days, in the fall. It got so cold at night that I was sure I had frostbite. And the people; how a mob can turn on you… Rotten food, mud, excrement, all hurled at me daily, clogging up the marks on my back. The fifth punishment, from my brother Aleksander, was conspired with the others to fake my death so I could be moved somewhere they controlled. They said a hanging would do. I was dressed up around a harness, led out to the gallows, and was hung by the neck until I fainted from lack of air." Pausing to indicate the fainter, lighter scar across his neck, Hans stopped long enough to feel a spasm of pain pass down him, lingering from six months of maltreatment. Egon stood, coming at the ex-prince in two hesitant steps as if he were going to try and soothe the madness out of his ward.
"No," Hans said, eyes going to Elsa again, "She said full disclosure if I want to stay here. So here it is, my Queen—I was tortured. They put hot brands against my skin, here and here. They took my fingernails and toenails, but not before sticking knives under them. I was beat, starved, humiliated, and nearly drowned. I was made to sit in a hot cell with my own filth choking my nose and my mouth. And as if those things weren't enough—," Hans gripped the button of his trousers as best he could with his mangled fingers, about to reveal the last horror they were able to inflict.
Egon's fist banged into the side of Hans' temple, and for a time, he knew nothing.
Here in the dark, Hans could be glad that the veteran had knocked him unconscious before he could hastily alienate the Queen and humiliate himself more. When he had come to, Egon had replaced the clothes he had tried to discard and was conversing quietly with Queen Elsa. She told him that for the time being, he would be granted a room, clothes, and shelter until those men arrived who were supposed to take him back to the Southern Isles. Hans had stumbled out of the room with Egon's support. The married couple was given a single room, both cleaning up nicely, neither looking much like the veteran and ex-whore they were. Linnéa had helped Hans bathe, the only one to do so, and Hans settled in to sleep in his Spartan room.
Anna had spent most of the day trying to avoid thinking about sleep. She spent most of the night trying to avoid it as well, but eventually succumbed. She dreamed more vividly of the freezing than she had the night before, or any night before.
Her fingers as she had turned to ice had hurt as if they had been cut off, but still, she had raised her hand to the sword that was descending on Elsa. She froze solid just as the blade came down between two of her fingers, shattering it and throwing Hans back. Love will thaw. Love will thaw. Love will thaw. The dream deviated from memory just at the moment she was supposed to come back to life. Instead, a hand touched Elsa's shoulder as she sobbed against Anna, and Elsa turned to him. Hans, though not as he was then, but as he was now, thin, disheveled, unkempt. His eyes held true sadness, and to Anna's horror, he pulled Elsa close to him. The ice beneath her—her alone—cracked, and she began to sink to the depths of the fjord, but not before seeing the emotion leave Hans' eyes for a cruel smile on his lips, a dagger poised at Elsa's back.
Anna sprang out of her bed, shaking, crying. Her sister's voice from that afternoon—asking her what was wrong—came to her mind, and she was overcome with the urge to finally give the answer. The Princess ran from her room without quite meaning to, being drawn to comfort at last, like a child running to their mother in the night, afraid of what was under their bed. Her hand closed around the knob of Elsa's door, found it locked. Fingernails scraping the wood, she jiggled the knob, knocked, and wept all at once. It took her sister barely a minute to answer the door, but when Elsa did, Anna flung herself inside, arms going to Elsa's neck, tears welling up and breaking over in a virtual flood.
"Wha—what's wrong?!" Elsa asked, holding her sister, but alarmed and bewildered.
"The dream…!" Anna managed past a sob, "Horrible! I was frozen again, but you and Hans were there! When I was supposed to unfreeze, I didn't! I went through the ice, and when I did, I saw him holding you, holding a knife to your back!" Not noticing that Elsa had no idea what she was talking about, Anna continued: "We can't let him stay here! He's a snake, Elsa. He'll worm his way into whatever he wants!"
Elsa held Anna at arm's length, Anna's resolve to send Hans away having momentarily cut off her tears. The Queen made a face similar to Hans' when he had reached for Elsa. Sad. Anna felt horrified. "No. Don't look at me like that. This is what you wanted me to tell you. This is why I've been unlike myself; I keep dreaming of being frozen. I keep seeing you either leave, or get killed, or go insane. He'll use you, Elsa, and throw you away when he's done. That's who he is. Please, please, just send him away…?"
Again, sadness in Elsa's eyes, "Anna," she said, leading the two of them to the settee, "I haven't forgotten what he did to you and tried to do to me. That's not why I gave him a room to sleep in. I know it's no comfort to you that I can forgive him, but it comforts me. I can't explain it properly. I wish you had told me about the dreams when they first started. Maybe we could have talked about them, and it would have eased your mind somewhat. We can still do that. But don't take it out on Prince Hans. He's no more dangerous to me now than Sven or Olaf are. And as for him using me… I doubt that's within him now. He's changed—not for good or entirely, but definitely changed."
Confused and somewhat deflated, Anna asked, "How can you know that?" The sadness deepened on Elsa's face until Anna was frowning, sadness creeping into her as well.
"I can know that because of what his jailer told me… because his brothers castrated him…"
Egon was the first and only to knock on Hans' door in the morning. The veteran was met a moment later by the ex-Prince, who looked relatively… better. The clothes given him by the Queen's servants fit him well in length —perhaps slightly baggy—though they weren't fine or princely. He had a pair of boots that fit his feet as well, allowing room for his still-healing toes, and Egon could almost justify a smile at the younger man. Something about the indifferent expression on Hans' slightly refreshed face gave Egon pause in smiling. In fact, he simply stared at Hans until the latter, eyebrows rising, asked, "What?"
Egon couldn't just say what was on his mind: would the prison ever fade away in Hans' mind, perhaps for something joyous; what did the ex-Prince have left to take pleasure in? However, Egon was fairly skilled at talking while preoccupied, and said, "Nothing. We've been asked to breakfast." Hans nodded and continued out of his room, closing the door behind him. Egon's eye caught that Hans had tied his hair smoothly at the nape of his neck, having let it part like he must have always done, and the tail end of it laid between his shoulders. Hans again caught Egon looking at him, and while he didn't ask again, his expression did. "Nothing," was Egon's reply, followed by, "Just surprised you didn't let Linnéa shear you. She does pretty good work." Egon indicated his own hair with a wave and a smile, though by Hans' unimpressed look, Egon decided he might not be the most prime of examples.
"Who were we 'asked' to breakfast by?" Hans questioned, changing the subject. Egon let his eyes cut to the side before saying, "The Queen and Princess. One of the butlers already escorted my wife."
Egon followed after Hans, who had not looked pleased but walked along the hall with a returning, or never-lost grace, quiet in his own thoughts. Egon took the lead, knowing which dining room they were headed to, letting his mind wander over the woodwork of the castle again.
Anna was the first to the table, coppery hair pleated neatly and simply, resting down her front. She wore a simple, breathable summer dress in shades of green. The morning held some residual coolness from the night, so Anna's shoulders were covered with a shawl of brown yarn, the muted colors fitting her mood well.
Elsa entered the room and took her place at the head of the table, having had her maid gather all of her pale hair into a series of braids that kept all of the hair back and off of her neck; this, Anna guessed, being the reason the Queen was not the first to the table. Elsa's blue ice dress was similar to the one she had fashioned first a year ago, though the skirt was heavier and had fullness at the hips that the other lacked. It never escaped Anna that Elsa had a fantastic creativity wherein even the minutest detail was given thought to. Perhaps all that time alone had allowed for an embellishing imagination.
At any rate, Kristoff was next, escorting the wife of Hans' former-jailer and now-savior, who to Anna had been introduced as Egon and Linnéa. The wife was dressed plainly but very cleanly. She'd applied a tasteful amount of gifted kohl to her eyes and rouge to her lips and cheeks, and the woman's hair cinched in a chignon, cleaned to have a light luster, brown and slightly wavy. Anna might have said something about how well the woman looked, well-rested, but Kristoff, groomed and dressed as comfortably as Anna, set down next to her and kissed her cheek, hand on hers, familiar fresh smell of reindeer washing over her. A weight that she had held on her own in the night lifted, and she smiled happily at her fiancé. Kristoff returned the smile, bemused by the release of the tension in her, but glad, Anna supposed, to have her back to normal. And she was, almost. As promised, Elsa and Anna had spent time talking about the nightmares the night before, and just saying them out loud helped, Elsa listening with empathy.
The four of them were seated and just beginning a small conversation on the weather when Egon and Hans arrived, former sitting by his wife and latter hovering at the end of the table. She looked at Hans in a different light, knowing now that he had, perhaps, bigger issues to overcome than one concerning duping Elsa and stealing away Arendelle. To be gelded by his brothers, betrayed by his family in such a way—Anna could pity him, feel sorry for him, but she wouldn't weep for what had been done to him, nor had she forgiven him, but she could bear his presence. She could almost see a change in his temperament, like he was drawn in on himself. Without the auburn sideburns and a healthy weight, Hans was long-faced, with a jawline that cut sharp angles at the corners, and a frame that was meant for larger muscles. Green eyes cast down and off to the side, Hans folded himself into the seat at the end of the table.
"Were the three of you comfortable in your rooms?" Elsa asked, softly breaking the silence. Anna let one of her hands squeeze Kristoff's, liking the tangible tether to the present, but not necessarily needing it. Linnéa was the first to speak, red lips curving into a gracious smile, "We were, Queen Elsa," she said, answering for her husband as well. Elsa's eyes went from the married couple to the lone occupant of the end of the table. Hans cleared his throat and answered, "Yes, thank you." Even his voice was altered, Anna thought, not in timbre but in mood. It held no more of the fake wonderment, held no smugness or lofty ambition it had when he had left her in that room, but was over and under different by being subdued.
A regiment of servants filtered in the dining room just before more small talk could be made, and set platters down, most opening without steam or ado. The table was made for more than their sextet, so a butler remained behind after all the rest had filtered back out to move dishes from one end of the table to the other. Anna chose slices of skinke, egg, and susild, adding bread in where her plate was still bare. Everyone was served coffee, none refusing the hot drink, though Elsa and Egon chose to not to sweeten it at all with sugar or cream. Linnéa, however, made up for her husband in an almost comical fashion. She seemed to have the biggest stomach for breakfast, digging in with gusto that Anna didn't understand; it was the rapid and indiscriminate pace one would set if they didn't know when or where their next meal would come from. She also didn't seem partial to speaking. After a few bites, Elsa began the conversation again.
"Prince Hans—"
"—Hans, your Grace. I was stripped of my title and disowned… If it isn't too much trouble, I'd prefer just Hans," the man at the far end interrupted. Elsa quirked a surprised eyebrow at him, nodded once, and amended, "I've decided to shelter Hans and his caretakers. I've sent guards to browse the arriving ships for those who might have come from the Southern Isles. If they find your bounty hunters, Hans, they've been instructed to put them back on an out-bound ship with a letter of entreaty from me and direction to give it to your eldest brother. If he responds well, I will grant the three of you asylum in Arendelle."
Anna saw the shadow of relief cross Hans' face. Kristoff squeezed Anna's hand this time, and she looked up into his warm brown eyes to find that they questioned her reaction. Anna nodded once to let him know that she approved. The bemused smile returned, but it was unstressed.
"Egon, you and your wife may stay here in the palace, or, if you would like, we can settle you somewhere in the city. It was a worthwhile risk to free Hans, one that Anna and I feel you deserve to be rewarded for." Linnéa had paused her rapid pace while the Queen had been speaking, her mouth free to smile, to say, "Can you imagine; a house, here?"
Anna paid attention to the veteran's reaction, seeing that while excitement touched his eyes, his wizened mind ruled, and the man asked, "Where will Hans be staying?"
Elsa shifted, not for comfort, but to command more authority as she said, "I believe, with the uncertainty of his amnesty, that it is better if he remain here, in the castle." Though it was logical, Anna hadn't been as prepared for that as she might have hoped. The idea that Hans would be there daily was unsettling. Her hand must have gripped unconsciously, because Kristoff recognized her distress immediately, and asked without hesitation, "Is that wise? Should he be let loose to wander, or were you planning on keeping him guarded?" They were questions based on the worst-case scenarios, but Anna felt comforted to know that both her mind and Kristoff's were in the same cautionary mindset.
"I'll stay, then," Egon said quickly, which surprised Anna in a way, and surprised Hans even more. The ex-prince looked at his unlikely volunteer with an odd astonishment. Linnéa hid her disappointment under cheerful airs, "That would be lovely, your Grace." The veteran smoothed a hand over his beard, saying, "Could I, Queen Elsa, be under your employ to keep an eye on Hans? I soldiered most my life, and I've still got the skill with the sword and the eye for trouble. My wife, I'm sure, would make a good maid here, if you'd allow it. We'd be honored for the chance."
Anna, though mostly quiet the whole meal, spoke up, saying with a smile, "You're hired," just before taking a bite of skinke and bread. The married couple seemed honest enough, and considering what trouble they faced if Elsa sent them back to the Southern Isles, Anna believed that neither would break trust. Elsa must have agreed, because she said nothing to the contrary. That—discussing the issue of room and boarding—done, the group finished breakfast in an uneventful manner.
Flaxen arrived on the same morning as Elsa held her public audience. He was even allowed into the castle to see it, though he paid as little attention to the words exchanged as the guards did to him. Four days relaxing on a boat agreed with him, and he looked no different from Arendelle's working-class male population standing amongst the people as his targets past him going up their aisle. He took note of what they looked like, how the skinny fellow was tall and had reddish brown hair; how the other man wasn't nearly as tall, but was built for strength, with grey hair and a grey beard, and the last was a woman who seemed awed by the entirety of the situation. When the Snow Queen ended the audience abruptly, Flaxen was one of the first to be ushered out. He spent the remainder of the day looking for ways into Arendelle's castle, watching guard movements, and creating a map in his mind of the best route in and out. He had to continue his watch into the night, and rested up the following day, finding room for himself in a well-hidden brothel on the outskirts of the castle-town, having a good amount of money to pay a cheap whore for her bed and services throughout the day.
Night fell on Arendelle—the same night Hans slept in an actual bed—and when the shadows were the longest and darkest, Flaxen was sneaking his bulk into the castle via a balcony and a grappling hook. Half-heartedly, the bounty-hunter hoped to find his primary target—the tall, skinny man—by simply poking his head around on the top floor, but gave up that notion quickly as he crept around the dark and quiet rooms and halls. He was steady on his feet, and the castle was in good repair. Soon, Flaxen was in the bowels of the castle, settling into a closet for the remainder of the night, planning how to capture the prisoner and escape Arendelle until he fell into a light sleep.
Morning again, with the hustle and bustle about the castle, the same morning breakfast was served. Flaxen caught a rather large guard unawares and knocked him out, taking his clothes and leaving him in the closet. The bounty hunter fell into step easily, a chameleon of sorts, though he was at least doubly muscular over any other soldier. It took him perhaps an hour to discover that his target was in the dining room with the Queen and Princess, and another hour to see the thin man, bearded veteran, and the ex-whore of a wife leave the dining room. He followed them at a sedate pace, eyes sharp under his hat, brokering no suspicion. Flaxen followed them all the way to where the single man left the couple, apparently going to his own room. Well, he wouldn't be there for long.
There wasn't much to do, but he'd gotten used to that, rotting in a jail cell, over the past year. Hans pulled his perfectly fine bed apart, then set about to remake it, a task he could do without much of a mind, even if the bending and the tucking hurt his body and his hands. He had just returned the sheet to the mattress when there was a soft click of the handle unlocking, which caught his attention instantly. He didn't have any time, however, between the first click and the second, wherein a big man wearing an Arendelle uniform had a crossbow strung, loaded, and aimed at the shocked ex-prince. The big man shut the door behind him, crossbow still trained on its target, and commanded Hans to, "Just keep yer mouth shut."
Panic forced Hans to comply, wide eyes not leaving the crossbow.
"Yer the prisoner that dog Egon sprung from jail, aye? The one the Princes want back," the big man asked, pale eyes narrowing, strong jaw setting, looking entirely menacing. Hans felt his heart slamming against its cage like a trapped bird, eager to escape certain death. His mouth couldn't work past his tongue, which had seemed to sponge up the strangled scream of horror at having been found by one of their men. Though his mind was a storm of thoughts, he could do little more than stare at the bounty hunter in terror, leading the big man to chuckle at him darkly.
"What they want you fer? Why, yer look like could be one of 'ems buggering boys. Is that why they want you back? Got tired of them fancy lady wives an' wanted a little piece of ass to play with? Well, whatever they want, they're paying big fer bringing ya back to 'em. Yer gonna be a good boy, aren't ya, and come with me without a fight?" he asked, taunting Hans while being utterly condescending.
The words cracked down into the fear like a bolt of lightning, igniting the urge to flee from this bounty hunter like dried grass in a forgotten field. Despite being weak and hurt beyond all undoing, Hans found the strength to fight again—a fight that he hadn't lost, even as hands tried to beat it out of him. He would fight to run away, even if the only place he could run to was off the castle from a high ledge. The decision was made in a split second, and only the changing set of his eyes warned the bounty hunter. Without time to react other than pull the trigger, Hans rushed the big man, knocking the crossbow's aim off, though the bolt lodged in his thigh, both falling into the door. Hans used the leg not pierced with the bolt to knee the man in the face, scrambling to get out into the hallway.
Egon and his wife returned to their room, speaking quietly about the new roles they would be assuming in the castle. She was surprisingly excited about being a maid, though when the veteran asked her about it, she came back with the startlingly frank, "Scrubbing pots and pans and sheets and dresses—easy work compared to selling your body." He didn't dare laugh until she did, though his was more out of surprise than out of a dismissal. The former trollop smiled, pressed her curves against him and tugged lightly on his beard. "I'm just happy to be by your side. You made an honest woman out of me. I just like the idea of honest work."
Their subsequent kissing had just reached the breathless level where both were hooking fingers around each other's clothes when the very obvious sound of a man yelling for help reached their ears. Egon and his rather fearless wife rushed out of the room, into the hall, down a short flight of steps, both thinking the same thing: that the scream had come from Hans. A couple of soldiers were running from the opposite direction as Egon and Linnéa skidded to a halt.
A man every bit as tall as Hans had a knife to the invalid's throat, a wild glint in his eyes as he saw what ran towards him. The sight of the bounty hunter using Hans as a body shield set Egon's blood to boiling, but he lacked a weapon, and the ex-prince was too firmly held in his grip, already wounded by an arrow to the leg and probably unable to fight back.
"Back up! All of ya! Or I'll slice him a pretty red necklace!" boomed out the voice. Hans had the look of a man who wanted to live as he held still, careful of the knife. Linnéa was quick to hurl insults and vulgarities like knives of her own, but was otherwise as impotent as Hans and Egon were. The soldiers were stopped as well, not willing to risk the prisoner's life for a chance at the crook that held him.
"You four stay right here, dammit! I'm going, and I'm taking him with me. Don't make a move!" Edging back, the bounty hunter was forced to back down the hall with no idea where he was going. Egon waited until the pair had disappeared around the corner, and then ran after them, Linnéa and two soldiers hot on his heels. They didn't catch up until all six were in one of the main halls.
However, they need not pursue the bounty hunter and ex-prince any further.
Queen Elsa of Arendelle had already separated prisoner from captor and had the big man pinned to the floor with ice encasing all four limbs, which despite vein-bulging struggles held better than the strongest steel. She stood apart from the sprawled Hans, looking somewhat alarmed. Aside from her ice gown, this was the first display of her magic that Egon had seen. As he helped Hans to his feet, he watched her disappear up the stairs with a slightly unsettled feeling chilling his old bones, knowing if he didn't keep his word, there was little he could do to avoid being encased in ice and sent on his way. Whatever the soldiers planned to do to remove the bounty hunter, Egon and his wife didn't stick around to see, taking Hans back to his room wordlessly.
Thank you for reading! I'm actually a little stuck on chapter 6 right now, and I could use a little bit of inspiration, so, if anyone has some Helsa song suggestions, I would REALLY appreciate it. Seems like I can't write if I don't have a little mood-music. :D Thanks again!