Elsa felt the need to wash after…. That.

…

She shivered.

It was easy to forget what Hans was. He was a merciless killer. When they had first met, if it could be called meeting, she hadn't given him a second thought. As a matter of fact, basically everything about the man was disarming; he could blend into a crowd, be charming, be kind….

But all of that was a shield to hide what he was underneath; a vicious, merciless killer. He had demonstrated this ability in service to the Isles. And now he was here.

No matter how hard she scrubbed, she couldn't get the smell of blood off of her. Even a warm bath lacked the cleansing power to wipe away the slate.

He acted like nothing was wrong. That made it particularly alarming. The fact that he had just brutally murdered two men in front of her (it happened so fast) and then had not given either of them a second thought.

She kept scrubbing.

Most alarming of all; Hans wasn't just any vicious, merciless killer; he was her vicious merciless killer. She had, for so long, resisted thinking about her relationship to Hans, and now she was forced to consider her options. And, if she was being honest, they were not great.

"Milady, the Protector is here," Intoned Kai.

Elsa took a second to gather her wits. She was the queen. She was powerful. She was in control. Hans respected her, cared for her, was obsessed, something.

"Send him in."

"Milady?"

She didn't bother to repeat the order. Instead the Majesty took a moment to rub the shaving powder on her legs. Gerda had done this for her for years, but her time as a servant had taught her that certain menial tasks needed a strong-handed approach.

The powder mixed with the water, covering her right leg in grime. She took a razor and made a small swipe at a patch by her ankle. Good enough.

Hans came in and stood at attention.

"My queen."

"We need to speak, oh Mighty Protector," She used a great deal of sarcasm here, "About your addictions."

"My queen?"

She tried sliding the blade up, but it caught, and sliced open her skin. Blood fell into the water of her bath.

"Ah!"

Iron met her hand, "My queen. Allow me."

Hans took the blade, and reversed it, going with the grain, not against it.

"It is not my will to damage her Majesty, nor her interests. I am simply Her Majesty's servant, doing his best to protect her and her interests. As for addictions; what addictions?"

"To blood," She said, watching hers drain out, "And me," She added quietly. His eyes met her. Dangerous eyes.

His head stooped, and his lips found purchase on the wound. He sucked.

"Oh."

Ohs were still good.

"I suck, my queen," He said with some sense of humor. Iron hands found purchase on her shin, and dragged the blade down the muscle smoothly. It was painful, but exhilarating- razor burn and smoothness.

"You serve my interests, Mr. Westerguard?"

He nodded.

"Then serve me."

"Gladly, my queen," The bottom of her leg was finished. With a gentle pull, he pulled her right thigh out of the water. Her eyes were transfixed as he gently dragged it across the outside, then top, then bottom, then inside of-

"Oh!"

"My queen?"

"Nothing, just… you may continue, Mr. Westerguard."

He finished, "I live to serve you. I will die serving you. If you question my loyalty, give me a task, let me prove myself."

Elsa rose from the water, "There is no task, Mr. Westerguard, because, Oh Mighty Protector, you only take and take and take."

She sighed. Hans saw fit to put a towel around her naked body. His mistress stepped out.

"My queen?"

She lay down on her bed, stroking her thighs, "You do what you want, take what you want," She paused, "Come here."

He obeyed.

"Tell me the truth."

"Yes, my queen."

"Do you want me?"

His eyes closed in shame, "….always, my queen."

She looked out the window, "Then why don't you take me?"

Her eyes were emotionless as he came down. She could smell the blood on him. It was horrible. She wanted to scream, to run away,, to stop him from killing anyone ever again, but she couldn't. There was no possible way for her to win anymore. Hans would kill, then use her, then, if she was lucky, he would leave and go find a replacement girl. She shut her eyes, willing it to go quickly.

"No."

"What?!" Rejected, again?!

"I… want you. But only if you give yourself to me. I'll never demand my take again. I live to serve you, my queen."

He left.

Fine.

He wanted a piece of her?

She dressed quickly and made her way down to the barracks. Hans was there, addressing a large group of men, "I don't want to hear any more rumors about our queen. Our job is to protect and support her. Undermining her authority, for any reason, is punishable by fifty lashes."

The men grumbled. They were silenced when they saw the queen approach.

"Your majesty!"

Hans turned and stared, "My queen, how may we-"

"What is the punishment for disobeying the queen?" Elsa demanded, cutting him off.

"Fifty lashes," He answered. She sniffed. Okay, although she didn't necessarily like to think of herself as Hans' personal sex toy, at least, anymore, the Majesty still felt a bit hurt over rejection.

"Did you or did you not continue to assault the intruders after I called you?"

The room went dead silent. The soldiers recognized Hans as the boss. Besides natural leadership abilities, he had a solid connection to the men around him. They respected him because he worked side-by-side with them. The queen was a distant, aloof figure they had not seen for months on end.

"Yes, your Majesty, I suppose I did," He answered dully.

"You suppose or you know?" She bit back. The tension in the room heightened. It was one thing to give the troops a good talking-to about their unfortunate flippancy about the queen's hotness. This, though, was a public confrontation.

"Yes, my queen," He nodded to his second.

Elsa stood back, a bit put-off. Hans was a hypocrite. He put himself out there as a friend to her people, but ultimately, he would not allow himself to be humbled by a mere woman.

"I believe it's time for Her Majesty to leave," Said the second. She glared him down. There was no way they were going to usher her out to shut her up. No. Someone had to expose Hans as a fraud, a liar, an untrustworthy monster they had all warned her he was a year ago.

"No."

"Sir?" He turned to Hans.

"She can stay," He answered evenly. Then he took off his shirt.

Elsa lost her breath.

It was odd for her to think, that, of all their rendezvous she had never seen his naked chest. Even more peculiar, she had always envisioned him to be smooth, and lean. With powerful muscles like iron. Not that she gave his naked body a great deal of thought. But now she understood why she had never seen him before- not really.

He was disgusting.

Long slashes, burn marks and scars covered his torso, ugly old welts popped up under what appeared to be sores. His body from his lower stomach to his pectoral muscles was a piecemeal of meat. It looked like several different men had been cut apart and then welded together.

"Oh."

This was not a good 'oh', this was a bad 'oh', and a very bad one at that. Elsa had read his reports, but, as luck would have it, he had not gotten his face or hands molested. But everything else was trashed.

Hans stuck a piece of leather in his mouth and nodded to his second. Elsa absently wondered where the man had gotten the whip from.

The first blow landed on his back.

"1."

Ten strokes later, Elsa was feeling dizzy. Hans was kneeling. He hadn't moved in a while. She was beginning to wonder if he could feel anything anymore when he let out a gasp of pain. The whipping had already left bruises, and by the time they rounded twenty, the skin started to welt and crack apart.

"Wait…." She said murmuring. They ignored her. A feeling of indignation welled up inside her. She just wanted to prove that Hans was a liar. But this was going too far, "Hans, wait…"

"25."

Elsa blinked back wetness. But it wasn't tears. It was warmer than that. She gasped.

Blood was on her face. His blood.

"27."

Hans lulled forward weakly.

"Wait!" She called. The whip moved again, and the blood exploded from his back, pouring down into his pants and streaming to his right boot.

"Stop!"

She ran, spinning and twisting her arm up protectively. It's what Anna would have done. The whip was already in motion though.

Pain, excruciating pain lit up her forearm. So much so that she almost fell over. Then it got worse. Elsa screamed at the top of her lungs, clutching her arm protectively.

"Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaah! Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaah!"

Several men rushed forward to help.

"Get some ice!"

She almost laughed. They put her over in the corner, exchanging nervous glances. Hans was panting, sweat coating his body as he tried to recover from the beating. Her heart was beating too hard. Every pulse lit up her hand like a log on a fire.

The second looked around a bit.

"28!"

"No! No more!" She cried, standing. Everyone looked at her like she was crazy. She felt a bit crazy, "No… more. Please."

"The punishment for disobedience is fifty lashes."

"I know. But you're disobeying me now, so unless you plan to go next, put the whip down, and help this man to his feet."

They obeyed her.

Elsa turned and left. This was all wrong. It didn't feel right to hurt him. Yes, he was cruel, and mean. But torture was wrong in all its forms.

She wiped away his blood from her face, knowing she would never be clean.

a.n. I hate to ask you guys for a favor, but there's this great fanfic named 'Spun' about Helsa. Read it, it's great.

Now the favor; maybe encourage the author to write a bit more?