Rifiuto: Non Miriena

A/N: Zani's literal note for this chapter is, and I quote, "Elsa is badass enough to deserve a staff. Like- Gabrielle's staff from Xena: Warrior Princess, only cooler with wooden snowflakes"

Written: 2019 - Licia

Hans sighed, flexing his fingers to release the tension.

In the days he'd spent bedridden, he'd quietly asked for a small knife. At first, the girl- Honeymaren he now knew- had stared at him, questioned him, voiced her concern, and promptly told him no. He'd accepted it, until a week later, when he'd asked again, this time asking for a long branch from one of the trees as well; the sturdiest branch to be found. Honeymaren had questioned him yet again, voiced her concern, and then once more told him no.

Two nights later, she'd shown up in the hut with a small carving knife and a very long, knotted branch left over from the wood used for the fires. She'd cleaned it of dirt and debris before bringing it to him. It wasn't rotting, she'd said, it was just not what was needed for firewood, and would he like to have it for whatever he wanted to do? Instantly, he'd accepted both it and the knife, and setting to work. Over the next weeks, he worked on it, whittling away bits and pieces until he'd begun to work it into an something of a smooth surface. The smooth rounded bottom and top were darker, and Hans noticed as he'd whittled away that the wood got lighter closer to the center. Once he'd smoothed the majority of it, he began to work on the designs.

Just below the smooth curved top, he'd carved a sun, the rays radiating around and down, taking the design from the necklace Elsa always wore. From each ray- of which there were seven bigger rays and seven smaller rays- dangled swirls that were to resemble snow flurries, and from each flurry, came a burst of snowflakes in varying number; some had multiple, others only one. The design flowed down until it reached the center of the staff and stopped, about a foot from the center.

He'd then turned it around, so that the bottom faced him, and worked on the design for the bottom. He carved a crocus into the bottom, an inch or two from the bottom, and then added a smattering of snowflakes swirling upwards, until they stopped about a foot from the center, leaving it bare. He was putting the last few details into the snowflakes when Honeymaren sat down beside him. She watched him for several minutes, before speaking.

"It's... wow. Is this the same piece of wood I brought you?" He nodded, never taking his gaze from his work. He'd learned over the years that to pull his eyes away while he was working often resulted in nicks and cuts and if he wasn't absolutely diligent, he could go too deep, as he'd done once when he was a child. "It's... you do beautiful work."

"Thank you."

"Where did you pick this up?"

He stopped, blowing gently to remove the shavings. "When you're bedridden the majority of your childhood, you're allowed very few enjoyments. My older brother brought me a block of wood and a carving knife one afternoon, told me to try and make something since I was so bored. I don't think he actually expected me to do anything with it. I worked on that block all day and into the night. By the next morning, I'd whittled it into a small boat."

"You were bedridden?" She could hardly believe it. He was so young, so sturdy, that for him to admit he was sickly as a child was hard to believe. He nodded.

"I was not expected to live after I was born. Until I reached ten years of age, no one believed me able to walk. I proved them all wrong. Being the youngest of thirteen sons, I kind of felt I had to prove myself."

She nodded. So Elsa had been forced into isolation for thirteen years due to her magic, and Hans had been bedridden for ten years because he was sick, meaning he was most likely weak as a child. If those two aren't more alike and meant for each other, I'll kiss one of Ryder's reindeer. She turned her attention back to the staff. "Any particular person you're making it for?"

"No, just needed something to keep me busy. I learned really quick that if I didn't have something to work on, my mind would begin to wander. Whittling and carving kept me occupied, gave me focus. Had I not been born a prince, I would like to think I'd have become a carpenter instead."

"Oh." She nodded. "That's nice." Another nod. "You're really good at it." Silence fell between the two, with only the slicing of Hans' knife to break the silence. "You should give it to her." He stopped, then continued. "I think she'd like it." Again, he stopped. "She'd probably be really touched that you made it for her."

Now, he stopped and lifted his head, turning to look at her. "Her who?" Though he had a feeling he already knew who.

Honeymaren met his gaze. "Elsa. Remember? The Fifth Spirit? Queen of Arendelle? The Snow Queen?"

"Why would I- it's not for-" He stopped, something else clicking in his brain. "And what do you mean by 'the Fifth Spirit', exactly? Why does everyone keep calling her that?"

She raised an eyebrow. "So you mean to tell me that the sun at the top is not based on her necklace, the flower at the bottom is not based on the symbol for Arendelle, and the snowflakes basically going up and down the staff aren't meant to replicate one very specific snowflake?" He grumbled softly, returning to his work. "And as for the 'Fifth Spirit', I can't tell you. It's better if you don't know."

He lifted his head again, green eyes narrowing in confusion. "What does that even mean?"

But she waved the question away, preferring to turn back to the staff he was working on. "What else are you going to put on it?" He raised an eyebrow. "You know, cloth? Feathers? Bead work? It needs something besides the snowflakes, flower and sun."

"It's a crocus." He corrected. "The Arendelle crocus. And why does it need something else?"

She shrugged. "It's pretty, don't get me wrong. Actually, forget pretty, it's gorgeous, but it's missing something. I don't know what, but it needs something else. Something to really make it shine." She watched one slender eyebrow raise. "What? Don't look at me like that. You want her to be happy with it, don't you?"

"Again, it's not for her!"

Honeymaren struggled to control her snort as he threw up his hands, the staff sliding into the ground at his feet. He sighed, leaning down to pick it up, just as Yelena and Elsa returned to the camp. He looked up as the children went running; they tugged on Elsa's hands, begging her to play with them, and Yelena told them she could play with them- as long as they were gentle with her, for she was still recovering- after lunch. A chorus of complaints followed, but eventually they all agreed.

Once the children dispersed, the two made their way to the bench where Honeymaren and Hans were sitting. Releasing the younger woman, Yelena joined the others in helping with lunch; Honeymaren stood to help, nudging Hans with her shoulder. He looked up, and she nodded towards Elsa, who stood not far away, fidgeting. She was used to helping, but she wasn't fully up to par, and had been warned by Vanja not to push it. "Give it to her."

A moment passed, before he sighed, flexing his fingers as he stood. He cast one last glance back at Honeymaren, who nodded, before making his way towards the Snow Queen. Yelena and the others stopped what they were doing to watch, curious about what Honeymaren was so invested in. "Leave them be, Honey. They don't need you hoovering like a vulture over fresh kill." With a soft groan and a roll of her eyes, Honeymaren reluctantly moved to help, casting one last glance over her shoulder.

"Elsa?"

She looked up, surprised to find him standing before her. It was strange, seeing him walking after so many weeks down; there was a slight limp to his step, she noted, that was probably due to the injury, and would most likely never disappear, but it didn't seem to bother him. He was taking it just as carefully as she was, for they'd both had good sized jolts to their systems. "Hans." Her smile was genuine, quick, her voice breathy.

They stood in awkward silence; now that both were able to walk, their interactions were awkward, new and uncertain. He opened his mouth to speak, but stopped. "You okay?" He finally asked, noticing how nervous she looked. She nodded, her teeth darting out to grasp her bottom lip. For the briefest moment, Hans wondered if his interest in her was nothing but a passing, bedridden fancy-

Her blue gaze glanced quickly at the staff in his hands before moving to his face, and he knew his interest in her was anything but a passing fancy. All he wanted at that moment was to take the worry from her gaze, to make her feel better, make her laugh, and see her smile again. He wanted to be the cause of that brilliant smile she often rewarded the children with. He wanted to take her into his arms and soothe away the sadness she felt, kiss her until she was relaxed and content, hold her close and protect her from the nightmares he knew she occasionally suffered from. "Sorry?"

She gestured to the staff. "Did you make this? Can I see?"

He didn't say anything, just held it out to her. How exactly is she going to react? She'll know I made it for her once she sees the-

She took it eagerly, her small hands curving around the carved wood as she held it horizontally, studying the design. Her blue gaze shifted, drinking in each snowflake, each flurry swirl, each ray of the sun at the top before she shifted it to the other end, surprised to see the crocus below the snowflakes. "Hans, this is-"

"It's not very good, it's just something I've been working on to keep myself occupied since-"

"Beautiful. Absolutely beautiful." She breathed, tearing her gaze from the intricately carved wood to meet his. "You made this? Truly?" He nodded. She turned her gaze back to it, leaning down to study it closer. "That's the Arendelle crocus." She shifted it so the other end was facing her. "And the sun... my necklace." She glanced up at him, before turning back to the staff, her gaze moving over each individual snowflake, her fingers slowly following. "Are those..." She pulled it closer, gaze following every tiny detail. "My snowflakes?"

Hans opened his mouth to speak as she looked up at him, before handing him the staff. He took it, slightly dejected, but quickly furrowed a brow as Elsa gathered the long, flowing skirt of her dress, and lifted her foot. "Elsa? Els... what are you-"

He, along with everyone else, watched as Elsa stomped her foot, gentler than the night of her fall, on the ground. The ice she was known for began to appear, and everyone held their breath, waiting for whatever Elsa was going to do. She turned back to him, holding out a hand. "Can I see that?"

Wordlessly, he handed her the staff, and she carefully moved away. At first, he thought she'd fallen, and he hurried- clumsily- towards her, but he stopped, catching his balance as he realized that she'd knelt to study the ice beneath her. Holding the staff, she glanced between the carved wood to the ice beneath her and back. Her blue gaze hungrily drank in each detail of her snowflake- from the six-petaled flower in the center, to the six arrow-like structures radiating between the petals, to the two sets of feather-tipped arrows six times over, each one radiating behind each petal. Each snowflake on the staff- on both ends- was her snowflake; each snowflake was painstakingly recreated, multiple times over, carved into the wood with an expert hand. Not a detail was missing or out of place, and as she ran her fingers over each, she realized that every single snowflake was raised, as though brought to life. Stunned, she turned her gaze to Hans, who stood beside her. "These are my snowflakes. Each and every one on this staff is my snowflake."

He held out a hand when she went to stand, and she accepted it, allowing him to help her to her feet. With a wave of her hand, the ice disappeared. Once she was standing, she turned back to the staff, unaware of the blush creeping over his cheeks. "You made this?" He nodded, not trusting his voice. "All of it?" Another nod. "You... carved... each symbol... the sun from my necklace... my former birth country's crocus..." His head snapped up at her choice of words, but he didn't get a chance to ask, as she continued. "my snowflake... all of it." She tore he gaze from the wood, meeting his. "It's beautiful, Hans." The breathiness of her voice made his heart leap, and he smiled softly at her.

"You like it?"

"Like it?" She looked back down at the staff in her hands, thumbs working over the smoothed wood, drinking in each detail, each little curve and line that made up the design. "You don't like something this... beautiful, Hans." She moved her fingers up, to trace the sun, before she automatically reached up and found the necklace still around her throat. "I love it." Still grasping her necklace, she met his gaze again. "You have a true talent."

A light blush began to tint his cheeks. "Thank you, Elsa. That.. that means a lot coming from you."

It was her turn to blush, and she hid it by returning to study the wood. Her gaze drank in every detail of the wood, and she was silent for several minutes, before asking, "What do you plan on doing with it?" He shrugged. "You don't know? Don't you want to use it?"

"Not really my style." She raised an eyebrow. "Besides, I didn't make it for me."

"No? Then who'd you make it for?"

He swallowed. "I made it for you." As soon as the words left his mouth, he regretted them, for they stopped her wandering fingers, tugging her curious gaze towards him. The question was loud and clear in her eyes.

Me?

He nodded.

"You... you made it... for me?" Another nod. "But... why?"

He shrugged with a sigh. "Because you're..." Beautiful, and unique and as intricately delicate as the snowflakes you create and deserve something equally as beautiful and unique and intricate. "Because you're strong and delicate at the same time, and you deserve something as equal in that beauty." She raised an eyebrow, noting how 'beauty' had not been the first portion of his sentence, but let it slide; the sentiment was there, even if it wasn't said.

"You're giving it to me?" She seemed surprised, and he couldn't for the life of him understand why. Clearly she didn't see what he saw. "Hans, I'm touched, but... I can't." He soon found her pushing the staff back into his hands with a shake of her head. "It's beautiful. I don't deserve something that beautiful. Thank you though."

She reached up, to stroke his cheek, before pulling away, but he grabbed her wrist. "Elsa." She turned back, and he tugged her close, shoving it back into her grasp. "I want you to have it. You do deserve it, because you are just as beautiful as it is. It's beauty comes from you. You were my inspiration for it. It's only right that the inspiration keeps the thing it inspired." She blushed, turning her head. "Please?" He wrapped both her hands around the staff. "Keep it. It's yours." Her gaze moved down, over the intricately carved wood, before moving to meet his gaze.

Her smile grew, until it outshone even the sun overhead, and he relaxed, content that he'd drawn it out. "Thank you, Hans." She wrapped an arm around his shoulders in a quickly hug as his hands moved to rest on her hips. When she pulled away, their gazes locked, and after a moment, they closed the gap between them. It only lasted a few moments, but it was enough to startle them both, for they'd never shared a kiss outside of Elsa's hut, and now, here they were, in the middle of the camp, locked in a tender embrace. A moment passed, as he let his gaze drift past her, to Yelena and the others, but they had all turned their heads, though he knew secretly, they were all watching. When he pulled his gaze back to Elsa, she was licking her lips nervously. "Well, I guess they all know now-"

A blush appeared on her lips, and he smiled softly, reaching up to brush his knuckles against her cheek. "Hey. It's okay. They were bound to find out eventually. At least we got it over with."

She nodded, leaning closer. "At least we did. Finally. Now we can stop hiding."

He rolled his eyes. "We never hid it. They always knew- or, Honeymaren did at least. It wouldn't surprise me if-"

"The others did too?" He nodded. Elsa glanced quickly over her shoulder, before turning back to him, cocking her head. "Did I ever thank you for this?" She adjusted her hold on the staff. A moment passed as he thought it over.

"I think you might have, but I can't remember."

"Well if you can't remember, maybe I should thank you again, just in case." She grinned. "Thank you for the staff, Hans. It's beautiful."

"You're welcome, Elsa. I'm so relieved you like it."

She giggled, wrinkling her nose. "I don't like it, I love it." The words caressed his lips as they met once more, her arm tightening around his neck as his arms settled gently around her waist.