Elsa was over the moon. It was so quiet, so peaceful. Complete serenity enveloped her as she circled the earth. Her problems didn't seem so big from so far away.

The push and pull was mind-blowing.

The gentle force she felt kept her grounded even as she drifted away into the peaceful silence of space. All her problems; Anna in prison, Hans' feelings, Baragor's pirates, the implications of the Southern Isles queen, all of them were silence in the gentle orbit of the moon.

Push, pull, push, pull, physics… just a ball, isolated, and safe. The whole of her existence was the soft rhythm of that push and pull, and nothing could take that from her.

Then it stopped.

"The council meeting is about to start," Hans whispered in her ear.

"NOooooOOO!" Whined Elsa as he withdrew for the last time. He laughed at her.

"Sorry."

He rose to leave only to have his brunette lover pull him back down. She had to uncurl herself from the fetal position she had balled herself into.
Hans laughed, "My queen…" He began, "You dragged me up here not-too-subtly," She shrugged, "Stripped yourself," She blushed, "And demanded," he groaned at the thought, "Something slow, and deep and strong."

She cringed, turning redder and redder.
"I did everything you asked for," He continued, "And, if I may, did a fantastic job?"

She smiled big. He smirked.

"But now you have to go to your meeting."

"No! They're mean to me!"

"Aw, how're they mean?" Hans asked sarcastically, "Do they tell you you're not the prettiest of princesses?"

"NO!" She shrugged childishly, "Although they haven't mentioned it lately…"

"Well you are. So what's wrong?"

"They make me work!" She yelled in anger, "I worked my whole childhood! Why can't I have more…"

She turned red.

"Oh, that. Hmmm… later, I have to go," Hans said, trying to leave.

"No."

"No?"

"No. Cuddles first. And yes, that is an order."

He rolled his eyes but nevertheless fell to the bed. She snuggled closer.

"Better?"

"Better."

Her face rubbed uncomfortably against his shirt. It was course and unforgiving, much like its wearer. Hans ought to wear something much nicer, she thought to herself.

"Where were you?" Hans asked suddenly.

"Hmmm…?"

"Whenever we…"

"Do that."

"Yes. You go somewhere far away," Hans sounded a bit wistful.

"The moon," She sighed, "Oh, it's wonderful out there. I feel so free. It's like, hmmmm… I have no worries or cares, and all the problems I'm going through are far, far away. I'm lost from this place, and this time."

"Huh. It's the opposite for me," He remarked, "When we're together, that's the only time I'm truly in the moment. Truly in the place that I exist."
"Where else would you be?" She asked, laughing. It took her a moment to realize what he meant. Blood, ash, fire, smoke, "Oh, yeah. I suppose there's something wrong-!"

"Something wrong?"

Elsa thought fast, not wanting to bring up his past, "You should wear a silk shirt, it's much nicer."

"I don't really feel it. Scars, you know?"

"Oh, yeah," her fingers wound through his clothes. He never took his shirt off, ever, "So… Elsanna?"

"It's what they call you two."

"Because we're so close?"

Hans looked off awkwardly, "Well, you know. Men have certain views on women. Especially two single women who are around each other a lot. And hug a lot. And hold hands, a lot," He grabbed her hands, "Who hold hands and say, 'I love you' to each other, a lot," He held her a second, making them both uncomfortable with the fact he just said a loaded phrase like that, "Anyways, they think you two are…"

"Are what?"

"You know," He moved closer, and kissed her, "This."

Elsa frowned, "Well, occasionally we kiss each other on the cheek, but-"

His hands were all over her again, a cage of iron, "They believe you two are lovers.

"Wait! People think Anna and I- no, we're girls."

Hans shrugged, "You know, when I was in the navy, occasionally the men would, you know."

Elsa paled, "What?! But we're sisters!"

He laughed, "You know, there's this funny story about Baragor and Kristoff!"

"Eeeeeeeeeeeeeew!" Elsa shivered

"You really are sheltered, you know that," Hans said, "I mean, not that I'm judging, but Kristoff and Sven had a very close relationship…"

The queen sat up, "Okay, I'm done with this. I'm going to attend my meeting now."

"Elsa, I cannot help but notice you're avoiding the topic at hand. It's okay," Hans stretched getting up, "I won't get jealous or anything. Unless it's with Sitron. Then I object, because I've known him longer. Albeit not in that manner…"

Elsa was aghast, "Why must every man take things out of context and make a disgusting sexual presumption about me?!"

"Hey!" He objected, "The girls think it too!"

His lover groaned in disgust, "May I please point out that we," she pointed to herself and Hans, "Just did this," She pointed to the ruffled sheets, "And you think I'm involved with my sister?"

Hans stared at her for a moment before opening his mouth, "So you two neeeever?"

"NO!"

"Okay, okay, okay…" He muttered, "Just telling you how it is…" Seeing how angry she looked, Hans climbed over the bed and drew her in close, kissing her, "Beautiful, powerful, giving… I always tell you the truth. You're the most important woman in my life, and I appreciate that you have an insatiable urge to visit a bloody, unrepentant murderess."

"Speaking of which," She growled, changing the subject, "What should I know about your mother?"

The Protector ceased his ministrations and drew back, "That's an odd subject to bring up at a time like this."

"She's planning on visiting."

"Oh."

"Oh?"

"Yes, 'oh'…."

Elsa held her face in her hands, "What does it mean!?"

"Well, I never really knew my mother," Hans finished dressing, handing his lover the rest of her clothes, "Westerguard boys are sent at an early age to learn the art of war."

"Drown in your enemies' blood sort of stuff?" She answered, pulling her nylons up.

"Exactly," He kissed her hairline, avoiding the scar, "You're the kindest person I know, so I'll skip the scary parts. I don't really remember my mom, I was just told to go and do a job."

Elsa nodded along, "So she doesn't even know you?"

"I suppose not."

He prepared to leave, but found her giving him a hug, "That's horrible."

"What?"

"You don't even know your mom?"

"Or dad, really," He felt her gasp, and patted her hands, "Elsa- my queen, it's okay. It doesn't bother me. Besides, it's not like it matters."

And he walked away.