Kristoff leaned against the wall.
"Bowels of the Mordu!" He cursed. Hans, Hans was alive. How? WHAT?!
How could this have happened? Kristoff knew Baragor was going to kill his little brother. So when had the prince escaped?
Also, what did this mean in terms of Anna? What if Baragor was going to hurt her to get to Hans?
Kristoff grit his teeth. It wouldn't come to that. There was one thing, and only one thing he cared for in the world; and that was her. Anna was his- always had been. And anyone, anyone getting in the way was going to die.
Hans had to die.
Kristoff looked up and down the hall. Two guards, not a big deal. He put his mitts on, nervously adjusting his fingers, just like Hans had before trying to kill Elsa. No choice now. He tapped the first on the shoulder.
"Sir?"
crack
The second guard stared blankly. No way Anna's boyfriend would do such a thing. Before he could lower his halberd, Kristoff got him in a bear-hug, choking the life out of the man.
"Nothing personal," He said. He forwent taking their weapons, preferring to take Hans out by sheer strength.
Opening the door, Kristoff found his little brother staring out of the window.
"Come to kill me have you?" He asked. Kristoff remained silent. He walked behind Hans, putting the large mitts around his baby brother's neck.
"Gurk! Guh! Ack!" Hans calmed himself, feeling that rage flow away with his breath. It was over, he was dead. Nothing could save him now, "Are... you... almost done...?" He let out with the last of his air.
An explosion rocked the castle. Kristoff's grip slightly softened, "Not again..."
Hans gasped for air, "...what...?"
"Baragor...!"
There was shouting in the hall. Kristoff swore, picking Hans' chair up and slamming it to the ground, "In here! The prisoner has escaped!"
Hans glared at Kristoff who gestured to the door. Guards on the outside pounded.
"Love is an open door," Accused Hans. Kristoff just smirked, opening it to let in the guards. He was surprised when his little brother pushed him from behind and escaped into the hall.
Hans took off, limping.
"Ow... ow... ow..."
His leg was burning, his lungs were burning... all of him was burning.
Baragor was taking over the city. Hans didn't care, really. Of the three members of the Westerguard family in Arrendelle, each of them had been sent here to take the place over. One of them was bound to win.
Hans ran into a panicked group of guards. He stopped, raising his hands in surrender. The guards looked shock to see him, before standing at attention.
"Orders, your highness?"
Hans started. Oh, they still saw him in charge of fighting, "Protect the queen! And get me out of these shackles!"
"Yes sire!"
Hans shook his head. Protect the queen? Since when did he care? Oh yes, "And get her out of the city. The last thing we need is for her to involve herself in a fight!" Once his shackles were released, Hans ordered all troops to withdraw to the castle, "Don't engage," he ordered, "We don't want a lot of bloodshed on our hands."
Looking out the window, Hans spotted Southern Isles ships. But more interesting was who was with them. Not Black Spot pirates, but English, French, and Spanish vessels. And entire armada was here, and they looked angry.
"One more thing!" He ordered, "When the delegation gets here, send them to the library. My library."
"Delegation?"
"Trust me," He said, turning to face Baragor's ship, "There will be a delegation. This whole thing will be totally legal."
The ships ceased fire and marched their troops inland. No one opposed them.
Yet.