1...
2...
3...
4...
4...?
No, 5...
Hans kept kicking. He'd been here before, out on the open ocean, treading the line between life and death. memories unbidden flashed before his eyes; fighting the Black Spot Pirates, his discharge from the Navy, the attack on Arrendelle.
It wasn't a particularly honorable life. The only good parts were when he was lying through his teeth.
Speaking of teeth, his were chattering. He knew sundown was coming, and he'd have to work even harder to stave off hypothermia.
1...
...
2...
This wasn't going well. He dug deep into his well of rage. All the people he'd let down, all the doubters who assumed he would be eaten by the Black Spot himself (ironically it was his own brother) all the times he'd had to revert to barbaric, humiliating methods to win the day.
All the killing...
Kill Anna, kill Kristoff, kill... sure, kill Elsa too. Why not?
His legs slowed. The prince gripped himself and demanded he remember why it was he so loathed her. She had kept him from marrying Anna, which actually helped since his contact in Arrendelle was in love with her. She... froze the kingdom.
Hmmmm... that was just... troublesome, really. Not a big deal to him personally. No, he needed something far more damning.
Siccing Marshmellow on him. Oh yes, that he could get angry about. There was nothing quite like being attacked by a giant snow monster! And she did all of that for nothing! They still broke into her palace, and took her out!
And she lived! That was the worst part! Everyone around him kept dying but that cursed ice queen!
Oh! He could feel the warmth of his rage returning with every kick!
"Oh, Hans, please save my sister!" He mocked, "Ha! As if Baragor ever planned on releasing me!"
Other things about her that bugged him; she was so powerful, but he had to save her- well, technically he didn't have to, but it ended up being his problem anyways! And now she was sitting around plotting his death, bald as an eagle, and he wasn't there killing her!
"Kill... Elsa... Kill Anna... kill Elsa... Elsa..." He kept kicking.
He went through his whole list of grudges; his parents leaving him with nothing, his brothers' betrayal, his shipmates lack of protection, even his trial came back up in his mind.
But nothing, nothing compared to his hatred for... her.
Oh, he would make it back to Arrendelle. The ship had sailed, maybe the previous night, making it about twelve hours by ship. Maybe. Heading back to shore in a straight line and he be there... in four days? If dehydration didn't kill him first.
Hans kept kicking. Suddenly, all the rage in his heart left as he spotted sails. He let out a shrill whistle over the water to gain attention, kicking rapidly. He let out another whistle, and another. The ship turned and headed towards him.
He was brought up on deck and immediately gulped down as much fresh water as possible. After downing about a bucket, he let out a gasp.
"This... ship..." He panted out, "What's its mission?"
The captain, shocked to see Prince Hans Westerguard in ashen cloak, in the middle of the ocean, simply answered, "We are the Winter's End protection detail."
Hans looked around confused.
"Then where's the Winter's End?!"
The captain looked confused for a moment before answering, "The Southern Isles."