CHAPTER 37
DEEP DESPAIR AND SORROW'S TRACE

Elsa knew that as queen she could only get away with so much before questions would have to be answered. She was not the "because I said so" sort. Elsa had tried that with Anna the night of her coronation when she essentially told her sister that there was no way in hell she was going to let her marry Hans. Well, she didn't exactly put it that way. But that was the gist of it.

That seemed like a million years ago now.

It had backfired spectacularly, and the ripple effect was…well…still rippling. Until she was locked up in that room with Hans, she believed that things had worked out swimmingly. She had her sister back. She no longer had to hide her powers.

She never should have gone to the Southern Isles. There never would have been a kiss. There never would have been a frozen heart to connect them, to tie them to each other. She never would have been in his heart, and he never would have been in hers.

If she were granted one wish, could she make that wish? Could she wish him out of her head? Could Grand Pabbie banish their memories of each other the way he had wiped away Anna's childhood memories of her all those years ago? Wouldn't that be the best for everyone?

She would set Hans free first. She would forgive him and then set him free.

Elsa was not in the habit of overruling the decision of her court if it differed from her own. She liked to think she was a strong, capable ruler with a lighter touch. She had often considered that the "lighter touch" could be ascribed to her shaky self-confidence, but she preferred to think that she was surrounded by good, wise people. People who had been loyal to her parents, people who remained loyal their daughters. Was it out of fear, though? Fear of her powers? Fear of what might happen to a person who expressed their true opinion of her and how she ruled? She hated that thought – that she was surrounded by hostages instead of citizens, and a court of mindless, fearful sycophants.

So, when Elsa informed her court that she wished to grant Hans a prerogative of mercy, she was strangely relieved that so many members had plenty to say about her intention to set him free. They were not afraid to speak their minds. Of course, not a single member of the court was in favour of letting him go, and how could she blame them? They only knew Hans as a dangerous criminal, one who now possessed the same powers that had plunged all of Arendelle and beyond into a brutal winter mere months ago.

They didn't know what she knew.

They could never find out what she knew, because then she would have to tell them how she came to know it. All she could do was speak to forgiveness. Arendelle had forgiven her for her transgressions – the transgressions that allowed Hans the opportunity to make his own. She responded to their arguments as best she could. Whether or not they agreed with her decision, and it was her decision, she was going to play the role of dictator this one time. Hans needed to be free. She couldn't do the same thing to him that his parents had done to her. That her parents had done to her.

But her decision to finally let him go had come too late. He was lying with his head in her lap, looking as dead as he had the day she had mercilessly cut him down with her cruel words in that locked room a thousand years ago. He had nearly killed himself trying to internalize all that hate, trying to keep her from seeing him vulnerable.

Her kisses couldn't wake him. An act of true love couldn't wake him. Forgiveness…couldn't wake him.

She was in hell, and it had literally frozen over. And now she was lost in it.

Hans would take her hand and press it to the branding on his chest, wanting the freeze again and again. She remembered how it would feel – like icefire lighting the cord that connected them ablaze. She thought about doing that now. But what if that was what had been killing him all along? That first time she froze his heart…maybe he had survived it when Anna couldn't simply because he was physically stronger than her. But then feeding his frozen heart over and over again, giving in to his hunger for it, his begging for it…

Each time she gave him what he wanted, she may have also been taking something away.

Elsa couldn't explain it, but something told her that even though Hans felt and looked very much like a dead man in her arms, he was still in there somewhere. It was the only thing keeping her from falling apart. She had considered it for a minute or two – considered jolting his heart with the freeze one last time in the hopes that it might shock his heart into beating again - but in the end she decided that she couldn't risk doing that.

He was cold. He was so cold.

Elsa cursed herself for having these powers but having no idea how they worked. These powers came with rules but no rule book. How was she able to bring Olaf to life, to imbue him with a mind of his own and a soul? He was easy enough to create – he was made of snow, after all – but she didn't manipulate or control him like a puppet. She had done it twice. She had brought that giant snow monster to life to chase Anna and Kristoff out of her frozen sanctuary on the North Mountain. Like Olaf, he had his own personality. He spoke. He moved on his own. He dealt with Anna and Kristoff the way he wanted to, without any orders or instructions from her. Olaf had even given him a name. Marshmallow. He was Marshmallow.

Why couldn't she save Hans? Why couldn't he save himself? He had all this magic running through his veins, just like her. He wasn't made of ice, but it was inside him. Why couldn't she…

why…?

The only thing she could think to do was try to get him warm. That wasn't going to happen in this room. He needed blankets and a fire. Soup. People ate soup when they had colds, didn't they? He needed soup.

Too many questions. People would ask too many questions. The guards would wonder why she was in this room with him. What possible reason could she have for being in here for so long? How could she move him from this room to another without anyone noticing? How could she get him all the things she knew he needed – the blankets, the fire…the soup. She couldn't.

She couldn't even stay by his side. She couldn't cancel such a huge event at the very last minute. There was an entire troupe of performers, musicians and stagehands waiting. Crowds of people were already lining up to fill the theatre. Most importantly, the opera was a gift for her coronation from one monarch to another. If she wasn't in attendance, it would look like the most appalling snub.

She had promised Hans he would never be alone. She had broken that promise time and time again. He couldn't be alone tonight of all nights. If he died alone…

If I lose him…

Elsa wiped her hand across her eyes, collecting the tears about to stream down her face. She took a breath and exhaled sharply, willing herself not to cry. She stroked Hans' hair, which was now as white as hers. Her bottom lip started to shake when she glanced at his wounded hands - another reminder of her inability to keep her promises. She folded one hand over the other, resting them on his chest. She pressed her lips together as hard as she could. An anguished scream was caught in her throat and it had to stay there.

She couldn't even cry for him, for herself, because someone might hear her.

Elsa needed someone she could trust to handle things while she was gone. The person she trusted most in the world, Anna, was obviously out of the question. And as soon as Elsa was dressed and ready to go, Gerda would be leaving for the theatre. Elsa couldn't deny her the opportunity to attend such a grand event. She was so looking forward to it. No. It couldn't be Gerda.

Kai.

Elsa trusted Kai. She knew he would do anything for her, not just because it was his duty, but because he was both friend and father figure to her. He also knew every inch of the palace like the back of his hand, how dedicated to their duties each member of staff was. He could have Hans moved and tended to swiftly and discreetly, and he had enough trust and confidence in Elsa that he wouldn't question her judgment or her motives for assigning him to do so. He was responsible, he was loyal, and he was fair-minded. If she asked for Kai's discretion, he would willingly give it.

Yes. Kai.

Kai could do this for her. She would leave Hans in his care.

She had no other choice.

oooOOOOooo

It was a bold choice, Elsa thought to herself as she walked through the doors of the foyer and out into the open air. People were staring, even as they bowed to their queen. It gave her a moment's pause, her body going rigid before she shrugged the fear of judgement off her back and pushed forward, holding her chin up high.

Maybe they were staring because her long, white hair was left unbound and tumbling down her back in loose waves rather than in its usual painstakingly perfect updo.

Maybe they were staring at Elsa's gown - a silvery, shimmering fusion of hoarfrost and what could easily be mistaken for fairy dust. Long, billowing bell sleeves swayed at her sides from naked shoulders, and delicate, low-hanging ruffles decorated the sweetheart neckline like camellia petals.

Maybe, maybe, they were staring at the silk scarf she wore, tied to one side in a beautiful bow. Maybe they knew it was a man's scarf. Maybe they didn't. She couldn't bring herself to care either way.

Elsa wove her fingers together in front of her, shivering a little when she felt Anna's presence behind her.

Anna, I'm so sorry, she thought miserably.

Walking arm-in-arm with Kristoff, Anna came to an abrupt stop beside her. Elsa tried to catch Anna's eye, but she kept her gaze steadily on the crowd, flashing them a warm smile and waving, looking every bit the beloved princess of Arendelle.

Kristoff stood awkwardly beside her, striking but stiff in his new clothes. He glanced across at Elsa over Anna's head and gave her a small, sympathetic smile.

Anna must have told him about Hans.

"You look beautiful, Anna." Elsa offered quietly.

"Don't." she warned, her jaw visibly tightening.

The short carriage ride to the theatre was going to feel like an eternity.

Elsa was concentrating on not biting her lip or wrapping her arms around herself when she heard a vaguely familiar voice in her ear.

"Your Majesty."

Wide-eyed, she turned to find that guard - the one who had tortured Hans by keeping his hands caged in those horrible iron casings - standing in front of her, bowing deeply. Iver was his name if she remembered correctly.

A very handsome man with a very ugly heart.

"You." she hissed, forgetting herself for a moment. She briefly cast her eyes on Anna who appeared to be eyeing her exchange with the officer curiously. Keeping her voice low and steady, she tried not to look as prickly as she was feeling.

"What are you doing here?" she hissed.

"Your Majesty, I'm here to ensure that you arrive at the theatre safely, of course."

"Th-that isn't your job," she stammered, sounding absolutely dumbfounded.

Elsa would be escorted by guards whenever she traveled outside of the palace, but for special occasions like the one happening tonight, the Captain of the Guard always walked her to her carriage before carrying on with the rest of his duties. It wasn't so much about safety as it was about ceremony.

What was this obnoxious weasel doing here in his place?

Elsa felt the freeze collecting uncomfortably in the joints of her hands. She flexed her fingers and closed her eyes for one second too long.

"Your Majesty? Are you not well?"

That smile. That unsavoury little smile of his. She wanted to smack it clean off his face. But she realized that she was stuck in the most dreadful of positions. People were watching. Anna was watching. Since she'd returned from the Southern Isles, there had been whispers about her erratic, inexplicable behaviour. Murmurings amongst the staff about why she had shut herself up in her room upon her arrival. The mysterious head injury she refused to explain to the palace doctor. Questions from her court about her decision to house an enemy of Arendelle.

Then, of course, there was that public incident with Fru Nyström, the old woman who was still mourning the death of her son, and the commotion Elsa caused when she ran from her like a coward.

She couldn't cause a scene tonight. She couldn't give everyone yet another reason to think she was losing her mind.

"Where is the Captain?" she asked, trying to keep the tremor in her voice to a minimum. It was evident from the look on the officer's face that he found her discomfort amusing. It made her sick to her stomach.

Officer Iver smiled that loathsome smile again.

"No need to be concerned, Your Majesty. The Captain is doing everything he can to make certain everything goes smoothly and safely this evening. We all are."

I highly doubt that.

"I don't understand." Elsa said.

The officer cocked his head to one side. "Forgive me, Your Majesty, but I'm not sure I understand either. The Captain told me that this singular assignment was awarded to me by special request."

Elsa's eyes widened with confusion. "What assignment? What special request?"

"That I personally attend to you this evening. The Captain himself told me that you had specifically asked that I escort you to the event."

What is he talking about?

He can't be serious. There's no way the Captain would...

"I never made such a request," she replied. Her voice was steady, but her legs felt like they were going to fall out from under her.

Don't cause a scene, Elsa. The last thing you need right now is another scandal.

"I can assure you, Your Majesty, that I did not misunderstand the Captain's instruction."

I can't believe I have to stand here and let him talk to me this way. How is this happening?

Elsa couldn't help it anymore. She wrapped her arms around herself. She started to gnaw at her bottom lip. She could hear that voice again in her head, the one that told her to run. Electricity began to crackle in the air. Soon there'd be snow if she couldn't get herself under control.

Officer Iver leaned into her space, forcing her to take a step back.

Calm yourself, control yourself. Calm yourself, control yourself. Calm yourself…

"Your Majesty –"

"This doesn't make any sense. Where could the Captain have possibly gotten the idea that –"

"The Captain said that the request came directly from the palace. I could only assume that by 'palace' he meant it came from you. He never specified…"

The palace...?

The rest of his explanation was lost to her as realization swiftly and alarmingly dawned on her.

The palace.

Elsa's head snapped in Anna's direction, her eyes already brimming with tears. Suddenly she felt like she couldn't breathe. Her lungs burned. She swayed dizzily to one side, almost losing her balance.

Anna continued to stare straight ahead, still waving to the crowd. Still smiling. But her eyes – it was like they were made of stone.

She didn't. She wouldn't.

"Anna…" she said softly. No other words came to her, though she was certain that if any had, Anna was in no mood to hear them.

Officer Iver cupped Elsa's hand in both of his, giving them a squeeze that sent a shudder throughout her entire body.

"Thank you for inviting me this evening, Your Majesty. It truly is an honour."

A strange sort of hush fell over the crowd. The move was a calculated one.

People would no longer think he was merely performing his duty as an officer of the guard. People would now think the two of them were…

Officer Iver offered his arm to her. She momentarily recoiled from it before reminding herself yet again that she was surrounded by subjects and staff, all scrutinizing her every move, especially now after Iver's little stunt. Her trembling hand reached out and rested on his forearm. Again, he smiled broadly at her. She closed her eyes and swallowed the lump in her throat.

As the four of them began their walk to the carriage, Anna's face remained impassive. When her sister finally did speak, Elsa barely recognized her voice. It was hard and uncaring, and every word felt like a knife in her gut.

"Being left in the dark. It hurts, doesn't it?"