A Tale of Two Princes

In the endlessly sapphire waters of the Southern Seas, the merchant ship CounterPoint was cutting through the waves, having recently taken a load of cargo and passengers from a port in the Southern Isles, not the least of which was a royal delegation of a single, young prince and the elder advisor assigned to him. It was a trip among many, and the purpose almost seemed moot. This was simply routine, scaled against the much bigger destiny that awaited the young prince just beyond the horizon.

The spray of salt water greeted him as he exited the cabin, and the roll of the ship bumped him playfully into the railing as the sun was slowly dipping into the distant horizon. Looking into the brilliant oranges and reds, the young prince smiled at the warm, southern breeze, feeling the way it ran through his hair and cooled him from the stuffy air still clinging to his clothes. He was glad he had escaped the attentive eye of his escort. There was only so much advising he could stand for one day, especially when the crystal blue water stretched out endlessly before him and the cry of gulls beckoned him to the deck.

"Well, that should give me a few hours of peace and quiet," he mused to himself as he closed the door behind him, remembering how the old man had fallen asleep right at the table, his tea cup still clutched in his hand.

As an afterthought, he thought himself generous when he draped a blanket over him, to keep out the coming night, then shook off his kind-heartedness as he looked out over the ship. It was littered with deckhands, and a few scattered passengers. Next to the cabin door, the cell was locked tight with a young thief sitting pathetically inside. The prince smiled smugly.

"Try not to get caught next time," he advised as he fixed his collar, then stretched as he walked out over the deck, his boots thundering heavily across the wood.

It was nice to be away from home. There was always excitement at visiting a foreign land as an official of his kingdom, be it for the exotic food or interesting people. He had seen things out there that ignited a bit of wanderlust within him, and he longed to find his place in that world. When his duties were fulfilled, he would have to return home, but he was not dreading that idea as much as he had in the past. There was just as much interest in returning home and reaping the rewards of his duties, but it was not the pride in his kingdom that drove him to return.

There was something else entirely to his plans, and they involved a great deal of patience and a lot of maneuvering.

Weaving through the maze of workers, he headed towards the bow of the ship, hoping it would be less crowded. He wondered if he would see land in the distance, just to imagine that it would be somewhere other than the land he had just left.

"Oh?" the young prince sighed, stopping as he found another person at the front of the ship leaning against the railing and watching the horizon as well. He appeared to be about the same age, though his clothes were vastly different. His hair was long and dark, and was tousled in the sea breeze. His lips were pursed in thought.

At first, the young prince thought of finding somewhere else to go, but a light shrug overtook him as he continued forward.

There was no reason to change his plans for anyone.

"Nice sunset," he said, stepping up to the rail and looking over at the other young man. He had the strangest-colored eyes, pale and clear, and they were set forward with an unusual force that struck the young prince.

"Yes," the other replied without even looking.

Intrigued by the lick of his accent and finding the chilly response amusing, the young prince shrugged it off and looked ahead as well, finding the breeze refreshing. It was a good idea to come after all, even if he didn't have friendliest companion. Stretching his arms above his head, the let the tension of the mood bleed away and resolved to make the best of it.

"So! What takes you into the Southern Seas, friend?" he asked, trying to strike up conversation once more.

The other young man was quiet for a moment, then shrugged. "One place is as good as another."

"An adventurer, huh? Out to see new worlds and such? You travel pretty light, though," the prince remarked, looking over his appearance and its apparent lack of supplies, or at least the kind no smart traveler would leave alone on a crowded ship. His eyes lingered on the single, ivory-handled dagger at his belt, and he found it to be beautiful and simple.

"A man does not need much to live," he answered, shortly once more.

"And a poet as well. You've quite the repertoire, friend, though you're a little light on conversation," noted the prince, taking another long glance over his temporary companion and finding that there was something about him that he liked - something that reminded him of himself.

That semblance made him warm up to the cold fellow.

"Prince Hans of the Southern Isles," he stated, extending his hand out.

Glancing down at the hand, the other then slowly raised his eyes back to him, as if trying to determine his intent. It wasn't every day that a prince so forcefully struck a conversation across the stone. "Yasha of Fria," he replied.

He didn't shake his hand.

Hans smirked at his response, but was feeling generous and lowered his hand to his side. He wouldn't hold his rudeness against him, for now. "Fria? I don't think I've ever heard of it. Is it far from here?" he asked, leaning back on the rail and giving this new acquaintance his full attention.

Yasha thought for a moment. "North. And East, perhaps."

"Oh, I sort of know the area. Is it close to Arendelle, by chance?" Hans asked, feeling his heart pick up just by the mention of that place. It was tied so intimately to his destiny that he had trouble thinking of anything else when it was all but mentioned before him.

Yasha sighed, finding this prince wasn't going to simply move on. Standing straight, he faced him as he also leaned against the rail. "It is a place I do not know well, but it is not far from Fria."

Hans smiled, his mind wandering a bit. "I hear it has the finest goods in the land. And the castle is particularly stunning," he replied, a strangely devious smile crossing his face.

Yasha was lost on his meaning, but shrugged it aside as small talk. He had little care for what interested this prince, except that at the moment, what interested him appeared to be Yasha.

"Perhaps I will visit it then, on your good advice," he said.

"I plan on making a trip there soon myself," Hans noted, looking out over the sea and trying to make out the horizon. His mind was reviewing and calculating, and his hands were moving at the very thought of what was to come. There was still much to do, and so many other steps to take before he would be ready to make that trip.

He soon became lost in thought.

Yasha had been watching him, now oddly interested in him as well. This was a normal prince from a normal kingdom, doing the normal things that royalty did. For some reason, that appealed to him.

"What is it like?" he suddenly asked, snaring Hans's attention.

Hans looked to him curiously, feeling slightly annoyed at being torn from his own little world. "Huh? What is what like?"

"Your kingdom. What is the life of a prince there?" Yasha repeated, watching him intently for an answer.

Hans sighed heavily. "Well, it's great, except for the fact there's twelve older ones just like me. I can't even begin to tell you some of the things I had to deal with growing up, and twelve older brothers puts you pretty far down on the food chain. Sometimes, it's like I don't even exist," he lamented, though looked out over the endless sea with determined eyes and great expectations. The days of being marginalized would soon come to an end, all by the efforts of his own hand.

"But, that will change soon."

"How?" Yasha replied, canting his head as he was fascinated by that expression.

Hans snapped out of his mood, then laughed and shrugged playfully. "Well now, if I went around telling that to every guy on a boat, I'd lose all of my best moves, now wouldn't I?" he replied, though he was taking a liking to this adventurer from Fria and felt like he could risk a little to gloat. It was unlikely he would ever meet him again anyhow. "But I'll give you a hint," he said, placing his hand on Yasha's shoulder and leaning in closely.

"Princesses."

Yasha's brow twisted. "Princesses...?"

"That's right. Princesses are the things that make dreams come true. Especially the beautiful ones," Hans explained, smiling for his new friend.

His new friend seemed lost. "I do not understand."

"Come on, who doesn't love a beautiful princess? I hear they fetch a high price here in the Southern Seas. Am I right?" Hans cheered, looking around to the deckhands and hoping for some kind of confirmation. They appeared to be men of dubious character, and the area's notoriety was well-known throughout the world.

A few looked, but none answered as they continued about their duties.

Hans dismissed their poor response and turned back to Yasha. "Forget them. Look, the most natural thing for a prince to do is to seek out a princess, right? But you have to find the right one. That, my friend, is the key. Finding the right one," he explained watching humorously as Yasha was still confused.

"And a princess will make you happy?" he asked.

"Me?" he replied, then laughed loudly and leaned in close once more, "I have my eyes set on a queen, but if that doesn't work out, a princess will do."

Yasha sighed, not looking convinced. "That sounds complicated."

"Oh, it is! You can't very well sneak into someone's castle and snatch up any princess lying around. It takes careful planning and a brilliant scheme to really appreciate what a princess has to offer," Hans said darkly, searching Yasha's face for an indication that he was the type of person he guessed him to be.

Yasha snorted. "It does not sound like a noble pursuit," he replied, searching his eyes for the same things.

"The pursuit is not the point. It's the result that counts," Hans countered.

Yasha studied him for a moment, though he had little issue with that logic. As this point in his life, with his tragic destiny hanging over him, it was something he was inclined to believe in as well.

An impending, meaningless death had a way of sculpting one's values.

"And this result you seek is...?"

Hans slowly stood straight, looking out over the sea and imagining a towering castle out before him, with a golden throne and a golden crown. "A kingdom of my own," he said, raising his hands out to try and draw the splendor for him. It was what he was driving at, and the sum of all of his efforts. So much information gathering and political favors, just to be the one to attend that upcoming coronation and put his plan into motion.

It was too bad he couldn't tell his new friend all about it, but that was too much risk. He would have to be satisfied with vague hints and innuendos.

Yasha tried to look out over Hans's kingdom, but didn't see it. He saw something else - a kingdom under a mountain. There was fire and ash, and the looming shadow of a malevolent king that haunted his every thought. Their goals were very similar, yet also very far apart.

Yasha didn't seek a kingdom of his own.

He wanted to destroy one.

"I do not believe a princess would give me the result I seek," he pointed out, looking at Hans with a smirk.

His expression made Hans laugh, and he clapped him across the shoulder, raising a finger at him. "That's because you haven't found the right one yet."

As he was pondering that point, the deckhands on the ship were going around lighting the torches, as the setting sun had finally left a blanket of darkness over the ship. When the closest torch was set ablaze, the sudden flare seemed to disturb Yasha, making him stand stiffly and stare back at the raging torch. He didn't know why, but the flames seemed dimmer these days, and they seemed to light a desperate feeling within him.

"So little time left, and only a pathetic tinderbox fate to be seen."

Hans noticed his reaction, and grinned. "What, a little fire scares you?" he asked playfully.

Yasha slowly looked to him, the flames reflected in his pale eyes and strange smirk played over the corner of his lips. The irony of the question was heavy.

"No," he replied, "it does not."

The two of them spent a great deal of the evening just chatting over the black waters of the sea. It was a strange friendship forged out of convenience and isolation, and neither of them had much expectation to ever meet again. They had much in common, even those buried things that didn't come out during polite conversation, yet weren't offended by the differences either. Hans didn't speak of the royal sisters of Arendelle, nor his carefully constructed plans for them. Yasha didn't speak of a twilight task, as of yet horded by a wicked King.

They both had their secrets, and were completely unaware at how those secrets would cross and collide down these fated pathways before them.

In the end, there was a clamor at the other end of the ship, with someone calling out loudly for the prince. Hans looked over his shoulder and sighed, rubbing his eyes. "I guess it didn't last as long as I thought," he remarked, more to himself than to his new friend.

Yasha had glanced towards the noise, then to this interesting prince before him. Oddly, he had never once told him of his own royal lineage, yet Hans had treated him like they both bore a crown, which was strangely endearing. It wasn't often he was treated in such a way.

"The duties of a Prince?" he asked.

Hans laughed bitterly, turning to him as he shrugged. "Sometimes we accept things we don't want, in order to get the things we do," he replied, taking a long look at this intriguing person from Fria, before giving him a genuine smile and raising his hand out one more time between them. "Consider that my last piece of advice to you, Yasha of Fria." Hans had the feeling he wouldn't have the chance to see him again before they made port, and that was disappointing. It was strangely pleasant to chat with him.

Yasha looked to his hand once more. Their time had seemed brief, and he honestly still didn't know anything about him, other than that Yasha looked at him with a strange sense of longing. He wasn't sure if he wanted to be friends with Hans, or simply be Hans. Slowly but strongly, he reached out and took his hand, feeling a bit of sadness at losing this fledgling friendship so early. Yet, he knew this was how things had to be.

In the cold reality of the moment, he accepted that they lived in different worlds, and they both had their own destinies to fulfill.

"I hope you find the kingdom you seek, prince of the Southern Isles," he replied.

The sounds of more yelling and his name being screamed over the ship made Hans wince and let go of Yasha's hand, then smile sheepishly as he turned to leave. "May we meet again someday," he replied, winking, "Once we've both found our princesses, of course."

With that bit of merriment, Hans left Yasha alone at the bow of the ship, resolved to go smooth over the anger of his advisor and continue on his path to the coronation. An entire performance was waiting for him, though he didn't want to forget this meeting. He made it a point to remember to visit Fria after his plan had come to fruition, and visit this nighttime friend he had found in the Southern Seas.

Walking forcefully forward, he planned to make it his first trip as the king of Arendelle.