So…
…um.
Long time no see, huh?
ssg.x.
CHAPTER 35
WHAT GREATER GIFT
As Elsa practically flew through the halls of the palace to Hans' room, the words, those words, were on the tip of her tongue, ready to fall from her lips and trip her, launching her back into his arms. She hadn't thought of her actions beyond speaking those words to him – I forgive you – and finally meaning them. She hadn't thought about what it would mean for Arendelle, or how she'd ever be able to fix things with Anna. All she knew was that those words were all Hans swore he needed to stay.
She barely acknowledged the guards standing by with a quick nod when she reached the doors to his room, ready to shout the words the second she made her way through them.
When she entered the room, however, out of breath, eyes wide with anticipation, she was not prepared to be confronted with the sight of Hans - the state he was in. Suddenly it felt like her tongue had been yanked right out of her mouth.
He was seated at the table and hunched over a book. There was more white hair than red on his head and peppered throughout the beard he was sporting. Creeping up from the collar of his shirt, faint and blue along the skin of his neck like vines on a wall, then disappearing into his beard, was a familiar and disturbing reminder of how she almost lost her sister. It was the same pattern the freeze left on Anna's skin when she leapt between Elsa and the blade of Hans' sword.
Anna…
Hans and I…we almost killed her.
And now she hates me.
I don't think I can do this.
Elsa cast her eyes to the ceiling and swallowed hard.
No. Stop. Focus.
Hans seemed to take a moment identifying Elsa's presence in the room. He pushed back from the table and got to his feet, bending into a bow that looked utterly painful in its execution. The movement launched an icy gust across the expanse of black ice between them. It lapped at her ankles. She felt it in her bones. The feather beneath her breast surged painfully.
It was happening. The freeze…it was…He couldn't possibly last much longer in this state.
Kristoff's Grand Pabbie had told Anna that an act of true love could save her. Another troll had then suggested True Love's Kiss, which is what sent Kristoff, Anna and Sven rushing back to Arendelle to seek out Hans. Elsa had never believed there was such a thing as True Love's Kiss. Not until she was trapped in that room with him. Not until she…
I brought him back to life.
A kiss had worked on Hans before. Maybe it could again.
It must work.
She kissed him with desperate fervour, and, to her relief, he kissed her back. So much time had passed since their last kiss that she immediately became swept up in the long yearned for feeling of his lips on hers. She pressed wet, open-mouthed kisses along his neck, tracing the faint, blue design imprinting the skin there with her tongue, with her teeth. His skin was like parchment and he was so cold. She was not accustomed to being a fount of warmth, but here she was, frantically undressing him and crushing his shivering body to hers. His reciprocal movements were excruciatingly slow and clumsy, and his body was stiff in her arms. It occurred to her that she might be hurting him, but she needed to get him warm.
And she would be a damn liar if she didn't also admit that, even in her feverish attempt to reverse the effects of the freeze, she loved being with Hans like this again. Her hips were pressed against his firm length and she ground against him, eliciting a low moan from Hans. At least that part of his body seemed to be in proper working order. She wanted nothing more than to be back in his lap the way she'd been in the library forever ago, except this time they'd be properly together – nothing between them. The words he'd spoken to her, the words he'd brought out of her, they'd be made corporeal.
But her kisses…
True Love's Kiss.
The kiss that had brought him back from the dead.
She had loved him then, hadn't she? And he had loved her. She wouldn't acknowledge it until much later, but her heart had known what it wanted before she did, and it had wanted him. So then why -
This isn't working. Why isn't any of this working?
She moaned in frustration. Could it be that Hans just didn't love her anymore? Had she left things to fester for too long? Maybe she had lost his heart before the freeze could take it from her.
As though he had read her mind, he gasped her name and carefully wrapped his arms around her, holding her close. She snuggled into him, eyes brimming with tears.
Thank God, she thought. He does. He still loves me.
Maybe the kiss only works once. So much for True Love's Kiss.
Maybe another act of true love will work.
And that's when she offered herself to him. She pleaded with him.
"I want you inside of me," she whispered. "Tell me you want me…" she begged. "…please."
Please.
"No," he said firmly, throwing her emotionally off-balance.
Elsa clutched at Hans, but with his eyes filled with sorrow, he began to struggle against her hold on him. Her mind reeled as she struggled to remember, in her panic, all the details of Anna's near-death and the instructions Pabbie had given Kristoff to prevent it.
An act of true love.
This is so stupid! I love Hans and Hans loves me!
Since Elsa froze his heart, he'd made deals with the devil (and his wife). He had told her his truths. He had crossed a fjord for her knowing there was a chance it would all be for naught, and he did it knowing there could possibly be a hired killer at his heels. He stayed in a prison he could easily have escaped from and endured the physical abuse of a sadistic guard just to remain near her. He had shown her he loved her again and again. How many acts of true love was it going to take to rid Hans of this curse?
And Elsa. Look at all that Elsa had done. Look at all the sacrifices she had ma –
Elsa frowned, suddenly feeling sick to her stomach.
Nothing. She had done nothing. He had loved her through broken promise after broken promise. Meanwhile, she had kept a dangerous secret from him, stayed away from him while he rotted away in a cell, and lied about not being ashamed of her feelings for him. She could say she did it to protect her kingdom, or to protect her sister, but she knew Hans had been right when he had accused her of doing everything in her power to protect herself.
To keep him close, but not too close, is what he had said.
Had she been unconsciously sabotaging their feelings for each other this entire time?
Have I?
That's when she realized that she still hadn't said the words Hans had been waiting on for so long. In her heart she was sure of them. She was. Why hadn't she spoken them aloud yet?
I am. I am sabotaging this thing between us.
Love.
Hans' voice, roughened with anguish and affliction, drew her back from the emotional rabbit hole she had tumbled into. His eyes were trained on hers, but she could tell from how unfocused they appeared that it was taking a great amount of effort.
"Your forgiveness. I want your forgiveness."
It's yours.
Hans collapsed to his knees, and Elsa's heart leapt to her throat. She moved quickly to get him back in her arms, not expecting a weak wave of his hand to deliver a gentle surge of wind that set her back on her feet.
"I'm alright," he rasped. "I just want to do this properly."
It wasn't a fall, Elsa realized, a mixture of relief and shame causing tears to spring to her eyes.
He got down on his knees to beg for her forgiveness.
"I'm asking for your forgiveness, Elsa."
"Hans, I –"
With his head bowed, Hans continued. "Don't forgive me because you love me, or because I love you. Don't do it because I gave you an ultimatum. Do it because you deserve it. What I did was unimaginably cruel. What I did wasn't because I grew up as part of a family built on a foundation of human atrocities. It wasn't because I didn't get enough love as a child. I had love. I had my grandfather's love and Hadewych's loyalty. Both were exemplary men, great men, and they cared for me, kept me safe, and shared their wisdom with me. Instead of living my life by their example, I chose that of my father's." Hans' lower lip began to tremble, and Elsa stared at him mournfully, wanting so desperately to temper his pain.
"I chose that of my father's," he whispered, sounding so sad and confused. It was like he still couldn't believe it himself. "Those are all excuses, and what I did to you – and what I almost did to you – it's all inexcusable. Elsa, if you forgive me, I want you to forgive me because you believe I've earned it. I've had so much time to think back on my life, and I've come to realize that I've never earned a single thing on my own. Not even the love and loyalty of Grandfather and Hadewych. That was just incredible luck."
Hans raised his chin and met Elsa's eyes, one hand gently cupping the snowflake branded on his chest. "Your love…your loyalty…even those. If it hadn't been for Alma and my father trapping you in that room with me…none of this…I didn't even earn this." he said, tapping the dimly lit snowflake beneath his blue fingers. "Elsa," his shoulders shook as he choked back a sob. "I'm so afraid it wasn't me but circumstance that won me your love."
Oh, Hans…
"Forgive me only if I've earned it, Elsa. More than anything else, more than loving me, more than letting me love you…If you believe I've earned it, truly believe it, then forgive me."
Elsa carefully lowered herself to the floor, the heavy skirt of her day dress pooling around her. Face to face with Hans, she reached out and brought his face close to hers, pressing her forehead to his. She lightly brushed her lips across his. He was so cold. She heard his breath hitch in his throat, felt a shudder move through his body.
"Hans Lind Westergård, I forgive you."
An act of true love.
Hans sighed, tears beading his eyelashes, hand still over his heart. His other hand hung at his side. He was exhausted, his life slowly draining from him before her very eyes. His confessions had taken a lot out of him. Elsa picked up his discarded shirt and painstakingly removed his hand from his heart so she could dress him and pull his braces back over his shoulders.
"Elsa…" he murmured. "Elsa Riborg Voigt…"
Even saying her full name seemed like a struggle for him.
"…thank you."
The full weight of his body fell against her, and she found herself having to cradle him in her arms. He stared up at her, eyes half-lidded and glassy.
Please, Hans…no…
No, no, no, no…
She held him closer, her embrace tightening around him. She leaned her head against the top of his and tried to keep her breathing steady, to keep from screaming. She began to gently rock with him - back and forth, back and forth – trying to maintain her calm with the gentle, rhythmic movement.
The walls of ice, the thick coating of frost on the windows, the rime on the table and the small bed in the corner – it all fell away and evaporated, and she hoped it was because she had willed it away and not because the freeze had dispensed with Hans now that it had used him up.
I forgive you, she thought, finally letting her tears fall and praying when his seemingly sightless green eyes finally closed that it wasn't for the last time.
But how can I ever forgive myself?
