A/N: Hi guys, not too much to say today, just drop a review if you can. I need to see if this fanfiction truly serves a purpose.

Disclaimer: I don't own Frozen or the Frozen franchise.

Madolen

"What do you think, sweets?"

A warm rush of blood rises to my nose and cheeks, I thank the stars in the sky for my dark skin to hide my embarrassment. "What do I think about what?" I ask coyly, biting into my cucumber and cheese miniature sandwich. My mother and I are outside under the gradually warming sun spending some time away from the incessant strategizing and planning for the upcoming storm.

My mom snorts from the opposite end of the small round table planted outside, amidst all the flora that grows from the Royal Gardens. The Gardens are full of delicate and decorative flowers that grow from plush bushes and strong trees in colours that shame rainbows. "Oh, my dear, you're a terrible fibber," she spits a smug tongue out at me. As structural and strongminded as my mother is, she's the biggest tease and perhaps more childlike than most. "Did you enjoy speaking to him?"

"As much as one is allowed to," I smile.

"What's he like?" Mother sips her cold berry juice.

"Charming, arrogant, clever, quick minded, emotionally undeveloped," I rub my neck. "He's human."

"A human you've taken a shine to?"

"Not yet, Mother," I grin at my prying mom.

Mom raises her brows in thought, a small smile on her lips. "Gala tells me otherwise."

"Gala that gossip!" I laugh. "What's she told you?" I scoot closer to the edge of my seat.

"Only the truth," Mom feigns a swoon raising her voice an octave to mimic mine. "My heart almost leapt out of my chest when Da asked me to show him his room. Weary as I am, Gala, I have a good feeling about Hans."

I hide my face in my hands, shaking my head at the humiliation. "I think he shows promise" I wipe my hands away from my face, "That's not so bad."

"Sweets, I'm elated!" Mom grabs my hands squeezing gently. "It's not easy to find a good man, Madolen. So far so good."

"So far so good," I echo with a small smile, but it falters into a pensive frown. "What if it turns out bad?"

Mom smiles slyly at me, "Have I ever told you about the Hanged Man?"

"Never," I squeeze my mother's hands in reciprocation.

"In a rainless land there was a poor man who worked a steady job cutting, sifting, sorting and selling grain to provide for his family of nine. He was up from 4:00am and worked until 8:30pm under a burning heat that never ceased. All his profits would go the tyrant king and his family would starve for many nights." says Mom. "One day it hit him that he could work until he was 101 years old but his family would still starve and blister so he tried to beat the system. He rallied a group of friends who helped him break into the treasury and steal all that they wished. The plan was to make off with the takings - but they got caught." Mom rubs her thumbs over my knuckles. "He was tried and found guilty. The king gathered the families of all involved to witness the hanging of all who committed the heist, thereafter the families would be separated and sold into slavery." Mom smiles up at me, getting to the depth in the tale. "As he stood with his friends on the stands waiting for his death, drops of rain began to cut through the heat and splatter on his head. The man lulled his roped neck back to savour the only rain he'd ever felt gushing over him and soothing all his burns and a grateful grin grew on his face. Then the floors gave way and he died."

"...I see, Ma…You're telling me to just enjoy the moment," I slowly say, staring at my hands.

Ma leans over the table, lifting my face by the chin so we see eye to eye before she pecks my nose. "Precisely."

I smile appreciatively. "That's not easy for someone who lives in the future."

"I… recognize that, sweets, and I realize your father and I have let you grow so grey," she says, brushing my cheek. "You don't need to be vibrant and flamboyant if that isn't you, Madolen. I know I can't change my brooding daughter into her father. But when you get into these pits of puzzlement, you need to empty your mind and just see things at face value." Mother bops me on my button nose. "And that starts by living in the moment…. your moment." mother sits back in her chair. "Today is a perfect day to do that. In fact, Hans wanted to take you horseback riding by the orchards on the east islands."

"Hans?" I question. Mother nods at me. "Isn't he with Da? Talking about our agriculture?"

"Of course, sweets, but he's here for you."

"Ma, I haven't ridden a horse since I was four," I laugh. "What if I fall flat on my face?"

"Then you fall flat on your face," she beams at me, clapping her hands together on the emphasized word 'flat'. "And then it's over. And then you have fun."

"That's… so simple…"

"Most of the answers are," laughs Mother kindly. "People like me who are simple minded live simple lives. People like Madolen with complicated minds live complicated lives."

I snort at my mother with a grin. "Message received, Ma."

"That didn't take long," she teases.

Hans

"There you are," I beam before quickly dusting off my plain, black long sleeve shirt and navy blue pants. "I was starting to think you wouldn't show."

"I'm not nearly so heartless," Madolen smiles back at me.

"You look different in riding trousers and boots," I express, coming to meet the princess halfway eyeing her brown paper bag colour breeches and plain long sleeve white shirt. She stares down at herself before looking back at me with question. "You look a little like a man."

Madolen tilts her head to one side and quirks a brow. "Is that bad?"

I put a hand on Madolen's upper back, leading her out the large main doors of the castle. "No, no, you look beautiful, Madolen. Just strange to see you in manly clothes."

Madolen smirks at me, "Are you jealous because I look nicer in these than you do, Hans?"

I laugh loudly as we step out into the warm light, "You do wear them nicely, so that might be it."

Jasper greets us kindly from his position a few steps ahead with three strong horses. "Good afternoon, your Majesties!" he booms.

"Jasper!" beams Madolen, taking off to embrace him. "Is it just me or are you getting taller?"

"I think you're getting shorter," he teases.

Madolen playfully shoves him. "Are you coming with us?"

"I am," smiles Jasper. "I'll act as your guide."

"Maybe I should call Gala out to come with us," Madolen smirks before her lips purse to one side, pulling her chin to sky and grinning with her eyebrows.

Jasper winces at the thought, "Might be best for this romantic ride to remain romantic, Madolen."

She snorts, "You know you love her. She knows it too. You two should just admit it."

"Am I missing something?" I question, poking into the conversation.

"Right, I'm sorry, Hans, how impolite of me," Madolen throws out a hip that bumps into Jasper, whilst tucking strands of competitively curly hair into her fishtail braid that starts from the middle of her head and ends halfway down her neck. "You've met Jasper, and you've met Gala. They first met on a date that I set them up on which was a disaster."

"I'm sure you can embarrass me on the road, Madolen," says Jasper wiping a cinnamon coloured hand that's bombarded by freckles (as is his whole body) over his face. "We must ride while time will have us."

"Don't think I'll forget," Madolen heads over to a grey coloured horse who sniffs her curiously. "Hello there. What's your name?" she presses her own small nose to the horse's velvety shining one.

"His name is Silver," says Jasper. "Hans, would you like to help Madolen up?"

"No offense, Hans," Madolen intercepts kindly, "but I think I can handle mounting a horse."

Jasper and I exchange glances skeptically.

Madolen stands shoulder to shoulder with the horse and I bite back a comment at her first mistake as I quietly move closer to her should the horse get jumpy. She puts one foot in the stirrup with her fingertips just barely clutching the horn of the saddle. 'Don't hobble onto the saddle. Don't hobble, Madolen,' I think internally before she does just that.

Silver whines before he rears back onto his powerful hind legs, tossing Madolen weightlessly backwards into my prepared arms.

"Woah!" she exclaims, and looks around herself, shocked at how quickly she was thrown. My arms are around her as if I'm ready to perform the Heimlich on her and she looks up at me. "Thank you." I smirk back at her.

"Relax there, Silver," shushes Jasper, a hand full of the horse's reigns and another sailing across his neck. "Did the big bad Madolen startle you, boy?"

Madolen uprights herself, "Silver almost took the breath out of my lungs."

"Juvenile horses have a thing for being jumpy," tells Jasper. "But you didn't exactly mount poor Silver here in the best way."

"Alright, fine, I admit I need help," says Madolen. "But don't patronise me."

"I'd never dream of it," I smile. Madolen and I return to the now relaxed horse. "Firstly, you don't wanna stand shoulder to shoulder with a horse. Come here by the saddle." Madolen comes to stand in front of me, staring up at the dark saddle and I put my hands on her waist. She looks back at me, almost jumping out of her skin. "I'm only helping, don't worry."

"…Okay, sure," she starts. "What next?" she glances back at the horse.

"Hand on the horn and foot in the stirrup," instruct I before tightening my grip around Madolen. She puts one foot on the stirrup pad and again just manages to graze the horn of the saddle with her fingertips. I wait a few seconds, watching that the horse is still calm. "I'm gonna hoist you up, okay? On my mark, you jump."

"How high?" Madolen quizzes.

"Just a spring in your step onto the horse," I grin. "One…two…go."

Madolen gives a tiny huff as she jumps and I heave her up before she swings her other leg over the horse to sit safely on the seat. "Much better than the first time, eh, Silver?" she fondly strokes the grey horse before looking down at me. "Thank you again."

"Just don't fall," I smile back at her. I head off to my own horse of burgundy colour. "And who are you?" I mount the strong creature.

"That's River," informs Jasper as he hops onto his own horse. "Follow me. Keep a firm grasp on that one, Madolen."

"I've never been firm a day in my life, Jasper."

"I'll show you, don't worry," I grin and we take off. We march off into the east end of the islands and as we do, the paved ground grows into dark soil. I take in a deep breath through the nose, smelling the earthy smell of dirt mixed with the smell of a rainbow of sweetness from the fruit orchards up ahead. "So, Madolen, why don't you ride?" I question, noting how awkwardly the princess shifts on the back of the horse. "You certainly have the means."

"I'm not… uh… physically apt," she says, eyes focused on steering the horse straight – it defies her, following its own path away from us. "Come on, Silver, gimme a break. Please?"

I guide River towards Madolen and her straying horse. "May I?"

"I'd appreciate it."

I take hold of the reins sternly and speak in a voice to match, "Come now, Silver, onward," I tug at the leather in my hands and the horse gives a disapproving snort before falling into line. "You're such a good boy," I stroke him for his efforts, giving him two pats before looking to Madolen. "Why didn't you work to improve your horse riding seeing as you could?"

"I'm more interested in breaking a mental sweat," Madolen answers with a sense of sharpness.

"Do you dance?"

"I've never needed to," she answers. "I know enough to get through a ball though."

"Swim?"

"Our waters are bombarded with sharks."

"Craft?"

"I've never gotten the hang of all the colour clashes," she admits uncomfortably, noticeably growing impatient. "So no."

"Knit?"

"I've been working on a scarf for a few weeks now," says she. "But it's more of an on and off thing."

"Dare I ask about cooking?"

"Why're you so bothered by how good of a horseback rider I am? Or how well I cook or knit or swim or dance?" Madolen lashes, her nose pointing at me. "Am I on trial? Is this some sort of test? I Am I being graded?" she urges her horse forward, leaving me behind.

"Madolen, I'm only curious," I call after her.

"Why don't you learn to mind your own business?" she spits back, not even looking over her shoulder. "Or at the very least, meekly ask your questions."

I smile at the state she's in and persuade River to speed up. I pull up beside her, Jasper still a ways away. "You want me to blindly marry you?"

"I said you should buy some tact," Madolen doesn't look at me, chin in the air, eyes forward.

"I'm sorry," I offer. "I didn't mean any offense. I was interested in you."

Madolen stops her horse immediately and eyes me severely, "Don't turn this on me, Prince Hans. You said what you said knowing that you were saying it." She mushes Silver onward.

I frown at her departure, 'Why is she so difficult to persuade? She obviously doesn't need me to validate her, and she obviously doesn't need me to love her. All signs show to me challenging her, and even that seems to be wrong. But it's my best bet so far. She seems to enjoy someone sharp minded, even though it can rub her the wrong way at times.'

"Alright, kids, we're here!" booms Jasper.

I'm pulled out of my thoughts and I see a vast orchard of greens and oranges and reds and blues, all sorts of fruit blossoming from the soldierly rows of trees and bushes with neat, symmetrical paths carved through. "This place just keeps getting better and better," I mumble.

"Impressed, Your Highness?" Jasper smiles at me.

"Hard not to be," I smile back.

"Come, let's go a bit further in, then we can pick till our hearts are happy," says Jasper. "This way."

Jasper leads us onto a path where a bunch of apples hang from their branches, distracting our horses. After we trek a few more moments in silent adoration of the looming trees that encase us, we come to a stop.

"Is this our stop?" asks Madolen.

"This is it," Jasper responds. "Feel free to roam around and eat as you do. Come back here when you're done."

"Thank you, Jasper," Madolen smiles before hopping off of her horse and disappearing into a few trees.

...

I swallow after munching contently on the half apricot in hand, the other half in my mouth. "Mmm," I moan softly at the flavour. I take two consecutive bites that puts the remainder of the orange fruit in my mouth, tossing the large brown seed up and down in the palm of my hand in thought. After I down the sweetness I cock my arm back before sending the pip speeding through the trees in front of me. I pick up a small stone and give another few measuring tosses before repeating the act.

"Ow! What the heck?"

"Madolen?" I turn my head to the voice I heard and push through the trees to the girl. She rubs the temple of her head with her lower lip stuck between her teeth. "I'm sorry, Madolen, I thought I was alone."

"It's fine," she winces, moving her hand away from her head. "I'm fine."

"Where'd I hit you? On your temple?"

"Hans, I'm okay, really," Madolen insists. "It was just a mistake."

"A mistake that injured you," I enforce. "Show me where."

Madolen hesitates but touches the very center of her temple, "Right there."

"Here," I put one of my palms to the temple that's unaffected and press two fingers to the one that is, rubbing in slow, deliberate circles. Madolen flinches at first. Her lips rest on the palm of my moving hand and I feel the edges of her mouth give away a silent cringe, but she releases a soft moan of bliss despite the grimace she wears. After a few cycles, her face softens and the only notice I have of her are her gentle approving whines. She leans her head against my chest. "Maybe I should rub your temples more often."

"Shh," she shushes, clearly not wanting me to spoil the mood.

After a moment, I release Madolen. "You were pretty upset earlier."

"I was just annoyed," Madolen says. "You were only curious about me... you didn't mean any harm."

"Is there something you want to tell me?"

Madolen looks up at me, "Nothing you want to hear." She backs away. "Find anything you like?"

"Yeah," I start, "Strawberries, dates, guavas. I'm headed to the watermelons."

"Watermelons? You like them?"

"Yeah, don't you?"

Madolen shrugs, "I don't know, I'm told I didn't like eating them as a kid."

"How old?"

"Three? Four? Maybe even five."

"Well, in that case, I think you should revisit them," I take Madolen's hand. "Come on."

We bustle through the bushes and trees for a while, following wooden signs for direction until we stumble upon rows of ballooning watermelons. Madolen kneels down in front of a large green melon. "We came here for nothing," she laughs. "We don't have a knife."

"Don't we?" I pull out a dagger, talentedly twirling it between my fingers before I kneel onto the ground beside her. I begin carving the melon in half, then I half those halves before halving the melon a final time. "Princess Madolen," I offer Madolen a slice.

She smiles thankfully at me before cautiously taking a bite. Her face lights up in delight, "This is fantastic!" she remarks with a full mouth, hidden behind a hand. "I don't know what I was thinking as a child."

Madolen

Hans laughs light-heartedly at me. "Careful of the seeds, Madolen," he picks up a hefty slice and chomps down on it. Hans sits on his bottom, legs out in front of him. "Did you dislike knitting and crafting and horseback riding as a child?"

I smile sadly. "I didn't mean to turn out a talentless nobody who wears a crown." I look up at Hans. "Maybe Casmont would've been better off if I died with my biological mother and Ma and Da had a child of their own."

"You serve a purpose, Madolen," starts Hans. "And you serve it well, even without those extra skills most princesses have. I don't question your capability to rule well, even maybe without me at your side. But you weren't modeled and raised like most princesses who learn to do all those extra things. Why?"

"Hettie tells me that I was one fussy child. My parents were so glad to have me, all they wanted was to make sure that I lived a life free of ailment," I shrug, sitting down with crossed legs. "As I got older, little things like living and enjoying life and learning other things became less and less pertinent. Casmont wasn't as strong as it is today, and I wanted so badly to fix it. I threw myself into this kingdom at age nine. Now it's all I could've wished for and all I couldn't have, and on the edge of ruin."

"I won't let that happen," Hans says. "I assure you, Madolen."

"Hmm," I smile thankfully. "Once...once we marry, and the storm stops, maybe I can get back to myself… you know? Maybe I can start developing and nourishing myself."

"Why wait until after all that?"

"It seems like the wiser thing to do."

"You have your whole life to be wise," Hans says. "Being silly once in a while is good for you."

"I guess I'll have to see," I smile.

"…I envy you having such a home."

I stare at Hans seriously. "What's it like there? The Southern Isles?"

"Cold, bleak, dreary," Hans smiles despite his tone. "It's a place I'm from, but it's no home to me."

"Don't you find comfort in your family?"

Hans shakes his head before biting into his slice of melon as if to seem casual about this soft topic . "My twelve brothers aren't the nicest of men… except my brother Lars. He's the only shred of normalcy amongst the Westegaard kin. He and his wife, Agnes."

"What of your mother?"

"I think time's done its job to her," he says. "She's watered down… a lot."

"…I can't imagine," I put a hand on Hans' kneecap, squeezing gently. "I'm sorry, Hans."

Hans looks back at me meaningfully, for a moment, truly collapsing any walls he has within him.

Just then, a drop of water lands on my nose, causing us to both look up at the grey sky. Before we blink twice, a determined rain drops heavily down on us and Hans stands up, helping me to my feet. "Come on, let's go find some shelter."

"Okay," I pinch my eyes shut from the rain, almost totally relying on Hans to steer me out of the showers. We clomp about in the now muddy soil until we reach some banana trees.

Hans pulls me into a protective hold under the large leaves of the banana trees. "Well, so much for a storm from the depths," he says, commenting on how mild the drastic storm seems.

"This isn't the storm, Hans," I snicker. "The storm is predicted to begin with violent winds and ominous thundre. We should be fine in a few minutes."

"Guess we'll just have to wait for it to calm."

"…Why sit around waiting for the future to get here before we have fun?" I mumble, pulling away from Hans' grasp. I start back out into the downpour.

"Madolen, what're you doing?"

"I'm being silly… I'm being simple… I'm living in the moment, my moment," I muse, still venturing further before coming to a stop and looking up at the sky.

"What if you get sick out there?"

I laugh at the words I speak next, shrugging once, "Then I get sick and then it's over. And then I have fun." I stretch my arms out beside me before spinning around once or twice. When I stop, I see Hans beside me.

"Why don't you show me your ballroom dance skills?" he asks, his voice deeper than usual.

I dip into a curtsy. "I shall." Hans puts a strong hand on my waist, and encases one of my own hands with his other one. We start to move, a silent battle for rights to pilot the dance ensuing between us.

"Madolen, I lead," he corrects, pulling me to a stop. He chiefs the dance, starting from the beginning. "One, two, three. One, two, three. Just like that."

"I'm sorry, I guess I'm more out of it than I thought," I smile, now falling into step with Hans. His magical eyes remain on me for the duration of our dance, looking almost lost at me. He holds me confidently before dropping me into a dip that I fall into quite well, given the fact that he didn't tell me that he was planning to do this. I relax my features against the gentle rain, droplets falling onto my pallet and eyes with the weightless of air. I do my best to ignore the staring prince and focus on how I feel in the moment. Hans slowly draws me up. "Doesn't the rain feel great?" I smile, looking up at him.

"Madolen, it rains almost everywhere in the world," Hans starts, eyes intensely on me. "I'm not here for the rain."

My breath catches in my throat. Hans grabs my chin between his thumb and index finger, drawing me near and leaning in towards me. I try to shut my eyes, but my eyelids flutter and tense as I feel him close the distance between us. He gently kisses me for what feels like hours, and I lose myself in the thumping of my heart as his hand releases my chin and knits into my hair, deepening the kiss. Then sense returns to me. I push Hans away, looking down.

"I can't let myself get too excited about this," I say, shaking my head. "I've only known you three days. You've only been here three days."

"We don't have all the time in the world, Madolen."

"I know that, but I need to think about this some more – to be sure," I say. "I need to know that I'm making the right choice. That you can not only help Casmont but be a husband I love… that I can trust you."

"You can trust me," Hans answers, pulling me closer to him with his hand that remained on my waist.

"...H-how? How can I be sure? How do I know?"

"You don't know for sure, Madolen and you'll never know for sure," Hans says, a hand cupping my cheek. "That's why it's called trust - it's faith, belief." Hans' thumb strokes my cheek. "I'm only helping, don't worry."

I gaze into his eyes, probing for direction. I jump into Hans' arms, pressing my lips to his in a grinning kiss and he hoists me up to flatten me closer to him. "I want help," I say, arms around his neck. "I want to be happy - truly happy- with you."

"I'll make you happy, Madolen," Hans says lowly between kisses. "I'll help you."

A/N: So that's chapter three guys. I'm trying to invest in this so please tell me if you want more! Take care.