So.
I hope 2015 has been treating you well so far. Thanks so much for all the kind reviews and well-wishes. This is a tough time of year for me, so your messages mean even more to me than they usually do (if that's even possible). This chapter is a little short. It's actually the first half of what was supposed to be one rather long chapter, but I decided to post it as is while working on the second half (which will be along very, very soon - please bear with me). I thought the story was due for an update, so I wanted to put something out now. I hope you're alright with that, and I hope you enjoy the chapter despite everything. :)
Take good care of yourselves.
Lots of love,
ssg.x.
CHAPTER 25
WITHIN IT THAT SURRENDER
Neither Elsa nor Hans had ever been in the position they were in just then, seconds away from a goodbye kiss. For that matter, neither of them had ever before been faced with having to stand toe-to-toe to say goodbye to someone they loved. Hans' grandfather had died in his sleep and Elsa's parents had been swallowed up by the sea. There was mourning and acceptance, but no real goodbye.
They had silently returned all the books that had tumbled from their shelves to their places and set all the standing candelabras upright again. Neither of them wanted to speak the obvious aloud – that once everything was back where it was supposed to be, they themselves would need to do the same. Elsa would go back to being the ruler of Arendelle and Hans would go back to being a despised enemy of it.
Hans rested his forehead against Elsa's and closed his eyes. He listened to her breathing, listened to the sound of it mingling with his own, and even though he promised Elsa he wouldn't make their goodbye any harder by touching her with anything but his lips, the fingers of one hand skated down her back and rested at the base of her spine. Breaking her own rule, she lightly traced the shape of his ear and the contour of his jaw.
He tilted his head ever so slightly to one side and drew closer. His lips carefully sought hers.
Beneath his touch, the lines of Elsa's body would become fluid like water, skin would become silk. Against his mouth, her lips were soft like the velvety spathe of a lily, her tongue its spadix. When he looked at her, reached for her, she became all things divine, a feast for the senses. She wondered if anyone would ever make her feel that way again.
Would the kingdom expect her to marry one day? An unmarried queen wasn't unheard of, but…
Anna's world had grown exponentially since Elsa's coronation gone awry. Soon she would be making unaccompanied visits to neighbouring countries as a representative of Arendelle. Between travelling, Anna's studies, their regular duties here at home, and the time she spent with Kristoff, Elsa knew she wouldn't be able to spend nearly as much time with her sister as she would like. Of course Elsa would be busy with her own duties, but even in a room buzzing with activity, even buried beneath a pile of paperwork, even with the distraction of being the ruler of an entire kingdom, it had been her experience that she could get lonely. Very lonely. She couldn't see herself marrying just for the sake of having someone to keep her company when Anna couldn't now, but…
As if Hans was inside Elsa's head, eavesdropping on her thoughts, his other hand joined the one already pressed against the small of her back, and traveled upwards covetously between her shoulders, her neck, then delved into her platinum hair. She should have pulled away, but she found herself arching into him instead.
His lips barely touched hers. She didn't know whether it was because he was trying to delay the inevitable, or because he was afraid that if he put too much pressure on her lips, he'd never be able to pull back. She rolled her body forward and rose onto the balls of her feet so she could close the distance between her lips and his. He moaned softly, sadly.
He remembered the ice sculpture of Elsa curling in on itself on the icy floor, his own likeness looming over her, the arm wielding his sword held high in the air. He remembered the sickening smile on his face, the face he'd barely recognized as his own
"I've made such a mess of things," he said. "Things could have been so different. It isn't fair that my mistakes have convicted and sentenced us both."
Elsa gently shushed him. "I don't care how or why it happened, but you're here now, and soon you won't be. At the moment, my mind's eye is blind to anything else."
"Elsa…I wanted to kill you once. I almost did," he said hoarsely.
"Yes, I know. I was there, remember?"
"You know that I've changed, don't you? I swear that I have, it was just too late."
"You haven't changed all that much, Hans, and you must promise me you never will. Not for me. Not for anyone. You don't need to change, you only need to grow, just like I need to grow. I'm as much at fault for what happened on that fjord…for what almost happened…as you are," Elsa said, finally admitting it out loud.
Hans snorted and shook his head. "I'm the one who told you that, and I only said it to get under your skin."
"Yes, but you were right, weren't you? I've learned from my mistakes, and I've grown. You've grown." Elsa said emphatically, touching his arm lightly.
Hans let out a long, tremulous sigh. He crossed his arms, not knowing what else to do with them. Elsa kept talking, working hard to keep her voice steady.
"You're able to be brave and kind, and ruthless and cruel from one heartbeat to the next. You have a strong heart and a strong will, and an indomitable push to get what you want. You're not the kind of person I ever thought I would fall in love with. I fought tooth and nail not to, but you…" she touched his chin and he glanced across at her. She began to feel a tightness in her throat, and tears beading her eyelashes. "You bring out the fighting spirit in me. I've been fighting against you, against my feelings for you, but it's time I start fighting for you, for my feelings for you. For myself. Promise me, Hans. Promise me that you'll never change. For the sake of survival."
"That cruelty and ruthlessness you claim to love in me is dangerous," Hans insisted hoarsely. "It could kill you. I could kill you. It's reckless of you to turn a blind eye to that part of me."
"Do you really believe that you're still capable of hurting me?" Elsa asked carefully. "Even after everything that's happened?"
"What if I hurt you without meaning to?"
"Hans, I was afraid of the exact same thing. I was so scared of hurting Anna that it literally sent me running for the hills, but I learned how to control my powers and now –"
"God, don't you understand what I'm trying to say, Elsa?" he cried, his frustration finally getting the better of him. "I'm not the same as you! There's an ugliness in me that could never survive in you. But in me…it thrives in me," he rasped. He tapped the side of his head with his index finger. "There's so much hate in here. I hate my family so much, Elsa. If you somehow got caught in the middle of that war, if you somehow ended up being a casualty of it, I would die."
Elsa arched an eyebrow at him and chuckled in a lame attempt to lighten the mood. "Now who's being dramat—"
The sudden intensity in his eyes made her shiver. "I'm not being dramatic, Elsa. If something happened to you - if anything happens to you, I'll die. And I'm so afraid I'll want to take the rest of the world with me."
"Hans…" she whispered, her eyes widening and her jaw dropping the tiniest bit. She didn't know whether to be touched or horrified just then. She stood up on the tips of her toes and kissed him. He kissed her back, this time with a measure of flimsy resistance that amounted to nothing when, with a seriousness that made his heart slow to a near-stop, she said, "I won't let your fear of hurting me make all our decisions for us. You don't have to be afraid. I'm strong. Stronger than your parents, stronger than all of your brothers combined. I'm stronger than your resentment, stronger than your regrets, stronger than your blood thirst, and stronger than your desire to become king ever was. And I truly believe you are, too."
She took his hand and, before he realized what she was doing, tugged down the neckline of her dress and chemise, exposing her left breast to him. He didn't have time to react beyond a sharp intake of breath when she pressed his hand to it. Wide-eyed and tongue-tied, he looked into Elsa's very determined face.
"Elsa, please…" he breathed. "I know what you want me to do, but…it was very painful the first time. And what if I do it wrong?"
She didn't answer immediately. Instead, she wrapped both her hands around his wrist, her eyes locking with his.
"I know all about first times being painful," she said pointedly. "And worrying about 'doing it wrong'."
Hans smirked, a blush rising to his cheeks. "Touché," he chuckled sheepishly.
"Hans, the mark on your chest…" she began shyly, "do you regret –"
"No," he interrupted her firmly. "Never. It makes me yours."
Elsa nodded. "So make me yours," she said, stroking the hand still cupping her breast. She smiled when she saw his eyes widen with surprise as though he'd only just realized where his hand was.
"I-I can't," he finally said. "I just don't want to take any chances. I'm sorry," he sighed. "I'm so sorry."
Elsa let out a long, shaky breath as he withdrew his hand and she covered herself. Neither of them could look at each other.
"Hans…" she began slowly, casting her eyes to the floor. "One day I might end up doing something stupid. Something…selfish."
"You couldn't possibly," he replied.
"Oh, I don't know about that," she said hesitantly. "I mean it's only a matter of time before Anna and Kristoff marry. They'll have their own monarchical duties to attend to as a married couple. One day I may get tired of traveling abroad alone, of hosting balls and dinners alone," Elsa explained with an air of nonchalance that successfully distracted from the mischievous gleam in her eye. "I might get tired of sitting alone in my room reading books before bed. I've slept beside you now. I've slept in your arms. I'll miss it too much one day, and…"
Hans' brow knitted together, a mixture shock and hurt blanching his face. It hadn't even occurred to Hans that Elsa might want to marry someday. He suddenly felt sick. Not just sick. Sick and…
"…one day I may want to share my bed with someone..."
Hans gnawed pitilessly on his bottom lip. He felt a tingling in his fingers that had become familiar to him now. He clenched his fists and tried to will the freeze away.
"I suppose once I made my intention to marry public," Elsa continued, "I'd have to play hostess to a number of eligible suitors, and then…"
Hans could barely hear Elsa for the sound of his heart pounding in his ears. He watched her lips moving, his fingers flexing, his knuckles turning white as she prattled on about entertaining suitors as though she were having a casual conversation with a friend over tea instead of crushing his soul underfoot.
Elsa suddenly laughed. "God, you don't think your parents would dare try to send one of your brothers over here just to torment me, do you? I suppose just to save face and keep people from suspecting anything, I'd have to be polite. Maybe even dance with them, or –"
Hans' eyes narrowed at the mention of his family. He knew what Elsa was angling for. He was a fool for thinking she'd given up so easily.
Give her what she wants. What you both want.
Bending Elsa back over the arm he wrapped around her waist, he launched a powerful, icy surge through the hand that held her breast, aiming for her heart and illuminating her skin. She gasped, dropping her head back as she rode out the shudder that moved through her with all the gentleness of rolling thunder, steadied by Hans' strong arm around her. He pulled her tightly to his chest and nuzzled her long, white throat. He wanted her so much just then that it took everything he had in him not to tear greedily into her cool, porcelain-like perfection.
"Is that what you wanted?" he growled softly in her ear. She moaned helplessly, and a rapturous smile broke across her face. He was relieved to see it. "You can really be a manipulative little she-devil when you want to be, hm?"
"I had a very good he-devil as a teacher," Elsa whispered, enjoying the pleasant, sustained hum of the freeze in her veins. She was acutely aware of its foreign elements, of Hans, which was her most precious wish granted – that long after they said their last goodbyes, she would still be able to feel Hans inside of her, enhancing her already eternally vivid memories of their time together.
He kissed her for what he knew would be the last time, as though the unique marriage of their bodies connected them in such a way that they were able to read the other's mind, then carefully lifted Elsa and gently placed her back on the floor on her own two feet. She brought one hand through his red hair, lovingly touched the white streak amidst it. She pressed her lips to the soft, sensitive spot beneath his ear.
It was time.
They walked to the doors together, at first arm in arm, then holding hands, then with laced fingers. When they drew the very tips of those fingers from one another for the last time, Hans looked across at Elsa.
"I love you. In all my life, I've never…"
He couldn't finish. He took a deep, ragged breath then pressed his lips together and closed his eyes.
"I love you, too," Elsa breathed.
"Don't forget me," he said, putting his hand on the doorknob in front of him. Elsa followed suit with the other.
"I couldn't," she answered achingly. "I couldn't."
Then, on a silent count of three, Queen Elsa Riborg Voigt, ruler of Arendelle, and Prince Hans Lind Westergård, thirteenth son of the Southern Isles, opened the doors and crossed the threshold as strangers to each other's hearts, and enemies once more.
