Harald Scharff and Edvard Collin

(A/N: Chapter focuses on bullying, a bit, and showcases one of Hans's friends. And another who will become a friend, both of which will play a good sized role in this story. Bit of a history tidbit: Edvard Collin and Harald Scharff were actually the names of two of the intimate friends of H.C. Andersen's. Both were also rumored to be romantic interests of his, as it's believed both Andersen and Scharff swung both ways. Collin, however, liked only women. Scharff and Andersen's ambiguous relationship with one another is kind of parodied here, with Hans and Harald, but not much; and is more on Harald's part. I'm more focusing on the bully/victim/savior aspects of the young dancer's situation. Said situation will escalate dangerously in future chapters. Carl Alexander is also the name of a real life friend of Andersen's, who the author was intrigued by.)

Elsa sat at the head of the lengthy table, Anna at her right and Kristoff at her left. Anna excitedly watched the suitors, mentally picking out which ones she would be rooting for. Kristoff looked highly uncomfortable. He'd rather be anywhere but here, with all these princes looking down on him like he was waste. They hadn't said anything, nor would they in Elsa's presence, but he could tell what they were thinking, what they were seeing.

"Why do I have to be here?" Kristoff murmured quietly to Elsa, a hint of sadness and insecurity in his tone.

"I'm sorry, Kristoff, but you're going to be married to my sister. You need to be seen," Elsa answered sympathetically. "I wish it didn't have to be this way, but it's a formality."

"I've been seen. Let me go," Kristoff answered, almost on the verge of begging.

Anna looked worriedly over at him. "Let him go, Elsa. I can go with him, if you want," Anna offered.

"Anna, you definitely need to be here," Elsa replied.

"My lady Queen, if you wish I'll go with him," Hans offered. "I've finished eating, and unlike you and Anna, I don't need to be seen until the competitions start."

"You'll be viewed as disdainful and arrogant," Elsa warned.

"Oh good. Because I am," Hans replied, smirking. At least towards these 'suitors' of hers. Suitors. Humph. He could gag.

She inwardly smirked, though was sure to keep up a stoic expression. "Very well," she agreed. "The shooting competition starts in two hours. Be in the courtyard on time, or you might end up forfeiting it."

Hans nodded and rose. "If your Majesty would permit, I should like to be excused from this… gathering," Hans said, slipping disdain into his tone as he looked over the other suitors with a glance. "And I should like the ice… your sister's fiancée, to accompany me. A peasant has no place at a table of noblemen anyway."

"Hey, I…" Kristoff began. Hans gave him a look that screamed 'shut up and let me bust you out of here'. Kristoff trailed off. "Fine," he grumbled.

"You're excused," Elsa said to them. Kristoff huffed and rose, he smiled gently down at Anna then turned to follow Hans, who was already up and moving. Quickly he caught up to the prince and the two of them left the throne room.

Frozen

"I don't know whether to be thankful you got me out of there, or insulted at the way you did it," Kristoff deadpanned to Hans as they leaned on a wall overlooking the ocean.

"Hey, I just voiced the thoughts of every nobleman there," Hans stated. "Until Elsa can get you recognized as a prince, you're just a slob to them. Needed to save face anyway. Kind of have to move along a middle ground for a while. Disdain the other suitors but also side with them so they don't get too resentful too fast."

"So basically be the guy they want to keep around for a while to help weed out the less fitting suitors, but who by the end will end up being just cannon fodder they can throw under a carriage," Kristoff said.

"Yeah. We'll go with that. Kind of the jerk who has his use, but is probably going to outlive it before the endgame," Hans said. "Keeps me out of their sight, but just enough in the light so as not to be forgettable. They don't see me for the true threat I am until too late."

"Insidious," Kristoff remarked.

"Where did you learn that word?" Hans asked.

"I'm not a complete idiot!" Kristoff defended. Hans gave him a dubious look. The ice harvester may not have been a total idiot, but he wasn't exactly the kind of guy who would know that term off the top of his head either. It was kind of next-level language. Kristoff shifted and blushed, looking away. "I, uh, wanted to kind of sound sort of smart to them so, uh, read a bit of a dictionary."

"And made it to the 'I's?" Hans asked.

"Um, no, no, I, uh, just kind of flipped to that page and looked for something that seemed clever that I could slip into a sentence. Maybe. It was a crap shoot, okay!" Kristoff said.

Hans rolled his eyes and shrugged. "No matter what you do, they're not ever going to see you as on their level. Not even if you're officially recognized as a troll prince. Troll prince isn't exactly something most would boast up," he said.

"I'm trying, okay!" Kristoff said.

"Well don't. They aren't worth it, Kristoff," Hans said. "Just be you."

Kristoff sighed, looking down. "Kind of hard to be when you're surrounded by royals and people who had like twenty times the education you did," he said.

"And still most of them would be helpless in the situations you excel in," Hans said.

"I guess…" Kristoff said.

"Most of those guys would wish they were you, if they saw what you could do," Hans assured. "I'm serious! Heck, I'm one of them."

Kristoff, looking down, was quiet. "Thanks… You have no idea how much better that makes me feel," he soon said, smiling at Hans.

"Uh, you're welcome?" Hans replied. This whole cordiality and being thanked and appreciated business was going to be something he was adjusting to for a long while to come. "Anyway, you even know what insidious means?"

"Um… sneaky, right?" Kristoff asked. "Deceitful, traitorous, sinister, deceptive."

"Yeah, kind of. Its literal definition is 'proceeding in a gradual, subtle way, but with harmful effects," Hans said.

"So I used it right?" Kristoff asked.

Hans smirked. "You described me to a T. Only way you could have come closer is if you'd called me Chameleon prince," he answered. Kristoff grinned and looked back at the water, tossing a stone into it.

Frozen

For a while there was silence between the two men. "So, nervous about the competitions?" Kristoff asked finally, trying to make conversation.

"Are you kidding me? No," Hans replied. "The Southern Isles excel at shooting and Swordplay. As to riding, I've been riding since I was like seven, have grown up with Sitron since he was a foal, and at this point we pretty well work in perfect harmony. Like you and Sven… My horse was kind of my best friend too, for a long time. Point is, I'm not too concerned about falling short on the riding."

"Do you even want to marry Elsa, Hans?" Kristoff asked.

"It isn't a matter of whether I want it or not, Kristoff. It's a matter of what has to be done. If not me, one of my brothers. We can't lose this chance to align with Norway," Hans said.

"But you're not exactly protesting it as much as I thought you'd be," Kristoff said.

Hans blushed faintly and glared at him. "I don't trust my brothers to get the job done. Sue me. That's the only reason I'm here. Because if they fail, I have to step in," he said.

Kristoff looked unconvinced but didn't press it. "You royals puzzle me, you know?" he said.

"Don't worry. We puzzle ourselves too," Hans replied, chuckling.

From this wall they could see back towards the castle, and part of the courtyard. "They're starting to gather," the ice harvester remarked.

"We'll head back," Hans said.

"Hey, how is this going to go?" Kristoff asked.

"Eh, a few competitions, a few shared meals," Hans said.

"That weeds out competition, right?" Kristoff asked.

"Elsa isn't a trophy, iceman. It's more a matter of showing off prowess and skill. Kind of a mating dance, like the way a male peacock flaunts his feathers to try and catch the female's attention. A show of skill and strength and talent with the goal of impressing Elsa and getting her intrigued. The theory is the ones she's impressed by or likes will be the ones she pays most attention to. In a sense I guess that weeds out a lot of the suitors, if they can't catch her eye they won't be able to show her much more of the real them, but Elsa seems all for fair chances, so she'll try not to be that shallow. At the ball she'll make it a point to dance with each man, get to know them a little bit. Kind of a speed-court. If she really doesn't like someone's attitude or personality, that man will be crap out of luck. If what she hears appeals to her, they'll get a second dance, maybe, or at least a second look. Maybe even a third if she's really smitten by them. Afterwards, she'll turn her attentions to each suitor individually. Spend maybe a day with each one. At that point she'll have an idea of which men she wants to pursue and which ones she doesn't. She'll discuss the matter with the Duke, and the Duke will send off the ones who don't do anything for her. Insert another ball or set of competitions. Either that or she'll just go straight to another period of time where she spends one day with each of the remaining potentials. More will be weeded out then. Given the number of suitors, and the fact Elsa seems to know her own mind and preferences pretty well, by that time there may only be around fifteen to twenty. At that point there will be another set of days that she spends with each of them, throughout which some will be weeded out and sent on their way. Those that remain by the end will be sent home, and if she picks one of them thereafter, she'll go to their land and tell the victor as much. Presto, engaged, wedding in the cards, Arendelle suddenly gets a new prince-consort, war with Norway is averted finally, and Elsa is stuck with a man she never wanted in the first place but can now tolerate," Hans explained.

"Wow… It was all really interesting and kind of sweet up until you had to toss your cynicism into the works," Kristoff said.

"Shoot me," Hans replied, shrugging. "It is what it is."

"And you're pretty confident you and your brothers will make the final round, huh?" Kristoff asked.

"We will. She knows and likes them. Frankly she should have just not even bothered with the other suitor potentials and simply chosen between my brothers and me," Hans said. "This game of power? It's just for show. The winners have been determined already."

"Pretty big talk," Kristoff said.

"Can you deny it?" Hans asked.

Kristoff winced. "No," he finally admitted with a sigh. Hans had probably called it. "But that makes me wonder, again, why you're here."

"Appearances," Hans said. "I don't expect to win, in fact I'm willing to bet Iscawin will achieve ultimate victory, or Mael if Elsa sweet talks him into joining the suitors, but as I said, appearances."

"What if she does choose you?" Kristoff asked.

"Trust me. I'm the last man on this planet she could ever love, let alone come to marry," Hans said, pushing open the gates to the courtyard.

Frozen

Elsa, Anna, Kristoff, Mael, and Olaf watched in awe as the suitors played at their shooting competition, and their swordplay. "Wow they're good," Anna said, awed. "Even the ones who lost are good!"

"I hate to admit it, but I have to agree," Elsa said, just as amazed at the prowess on display.

"They're like peacocks showing off their feathers," Kristoff said.

"Nice analogy," Elsa said. "How did you come up with it?"

"I didn't. Hans did," Kristoff replied. "He says these competitions are really little more than a mating dance. A way to put their feathers up for display and hopefully catch the attention of the object of their affections."

"Can't believe I'm saying this, but Hans is totally right," Anna said.

"Maybe so, but I'm not that shallow," Elsa said, smirking.

"No, but you can't deny your eyes are drawn to the more skilled ones. Who are far from hard to look at," Anna replied. But hey, since when were any of the Southern Isles princes difficult to look at?

"You flatter us, my lady Anna," Mael said, smirking and chuckling slightly.

"Are you kidding me? No one would ever be loathe to look at any of you. Well, with exception to Hans when…" Anna trailed off, remembering the evil look he'd given her not once before, but twice. "Well, that look of Hans's and… you get it," she said.

Mael's smile fell to a frown as he watched Hans from above. He got it. He got it very well. The look their brother had given them when they had been imprisoned by the troll king… It still haunted his dreams, at times… There had been nothing of a human in that look… Kristoff was quiet, as was Elsa. She scoffed, turning her gaze away from Hans and his brothers. Great. Now she couldn't look at the youngest prince for more than three seconds without feeling disgust and anger at that memory. She forgave him for trying to kill her and take over her kingdom, but she would never forgive him for trying to kill Anna and for traumatizing her sister. Though… to be fair to him, he had made Anna that much wiser. For that she was grateful. Maybe in time it would be forgiven. Or at least put out of mind.

"Those three men down there are really good," Olaf remarked, pointing out three other young men besides the princes.

Elsa looked over and tilted her head. Wow, they were. "Who are they?" she asked.

"Edvard Cullin, is the name of one, a nobleman, I believe. Another is the hereditary Duke of Saxe-Weimar-Eisenach, Carl Alexander. A pity there were no daughters born to the Southern Isles. A marriage with him has potential to avoid war with Britain, but then I suppose we would still have a betrayed Scotland to deal with, and that is the last thing Moren wants on his plate. I can't make out who the third one is, though he seems familiar," Mael replied. "I do not believe he is a nobleman, though, which means he slipped in somehow. Perhaps acting as if he was. I associate his look with theatre, so he may be an actor."

"We'll have to look into it," Elsa said. "They are good, though, aren't they?" she added, impressed by them.

"I bet they'll give the Southern Isles a challenge," Olaf stated.

The triplets each faced one of the other three men. Iscawin, Hans, and Kelin-Sel started up a three way sword fight. Hans was holding his own shockingly well. "Wow. Hans has got the moves," Kristoff remarked.

"He's among the top five of us in swordplay," Mael stated. "In fact he ranks fourth. Behind Moren, Jürgen, and Kelin-Sel. Duach is close behind him, in fifth place. Hans ranks third in his shooting prowess, behind Rhun and Franz."

"Does he rank first in anything?" Anna asked.

"Always good, never good enough," Mael answered. "There was more than one reason for Jürgen to start insulting him with that phrase. No, Hans doesn't rank first in anything."

"Not even horseback riding?" Kristoff asked.

"Justic wins that one," Mael stated. "Hans follows him. Follows him closely, but follows him nonetheless; though it is likely Hans is starting to pull ahead. Regardless, Hans's prowess with a blade will be enough to take out Iscawin at least. Watch." They did so. Sure enough, within five minutes Iscawin was out. In turn, though, Kelin-Sel took out Hans about three minutes later, much to Hans's chagrin. By that time, the triplets had finished their various sparring matches with Edvard, Carl, and the third man Mael couldn't recall the name of. The only triplet who had beaten their sparring match was Coth, and he had been fighting the unknown. "Hmm… Hans is improving. He may be coming up on Kelin-Sel's position quicker than I thought," Lars mused.

"Now we get to see them race horses in the garden!" Anna excitedly said.

"Pfft, Sven and I could beat them," Kristoff said.

"Go on down and try it then, hot shot," Anna teased.

Kristoff blinked then cringed. "Uh, maybe later," he replied. "Or never."

"Scaredy cat," Elsa teased.

"I am not!" Kristoff protested.

Anna giggled. Olaf looked over at Mael. "Hey Lars, can you do something for me please? Look into the future and tell me which man Elsa chooses," the snowman said to the seer. "I really, really, really, really want to know!"

"Now Olaf, that would just ruin the fun of this whole thing. For both of us," Mael answered.

"Aww. Pretty please?" Olaf pled.

"I'm afraid it can't be done, my little friend," Mael answered.

"Fine, I'll wait," Olaf relented with a forlorn sigh. Mael chuckled.

Frozen

The sisters watched, very near thrilled, as the horses charged through the garden. "Hans is killing it out there!" Anna exclaimed. "It looks so effortless."

"He's been with Sitron since they were both little. He and that horse know each other's every move and quirk and habit," Mael stated.

"He isn't even giving the others a fighting chance," Kristoff said, laughing. "I can't believe this, but I'm actually rooting for him."

"Go Hans!" Olaf cheered.

"As long as he doesn't fall off and get trampled or paralyzed, you can keep rooting for him," Elsa worriedly said, having spotted Sitron nearly lose his footing and fall. She had no doubt Hans would have toppled off, if he hadn't been in-tuned enough with his stallion's movements to realize he had to hold on tighter. His horse crossed the finish, and nimbly Hans dismounted with a thrilled grin, instantly and constantly praising his mount and massaging Sitron's legs lightly while cooing said praises. Sitron whinnied and nibbled at his master and friend's hair. One by one the rest of the suitors reached the start again.

"Let's get down there and congratulate them all," Anna said.

"Right," Elsa agreed.

Frozen

Hans was cleaning out Sitron's hooves as the horse munched contentedly on oats. "The things I do for you, boy," he said to the stallion. Sitron snorted and shoved him lightly with his head. Hans grinned, petting the stallion's nose and rising, continuing to stroke the neck.

"He's a beautiful horse," a voice said from behind.

"Thanks, I…" Hans began before starting. Wait a second. He knew that voice. His eyes widened and he spun around. His mouth dropped. "Harald? Harald Scharff?" he said in shock.

Elsa, Anna, Kristoff, Olaf, and Mael, nearing, paused to observe. "Hey, isn't that the young man whose name Mael couldn't recall?" Anna asked.

"It is. Hearing the name, now I can place who it is," Mael answered, obviously amazed to see the young man again. "And he is certainly no nobleman. He is a dancer, one of the best, and plays many starring roles in ballet theatre as a great lover. His ability is amazing."

"Hans knows him?" Kristoff asked.

"Very, very well. They are intimate friends," Mael answered. "We all know him, but he and Hans hit it off."

"Hans Westergaard!" Harald exclaimed. "Hah, hah, it's been so long!" Laughing, he threw his arms about Hans, who returned the embrace, thrilled. Harald kissed him unashamedly. Not on the mouth, but on the cheek. A gesture of close friendship.

Kristoff's eyes widened. "What kind of intimate are we talking?" the ice harvester asked, shocked at the action.

"Kristoff!" Anna exclaimed. Elsa blinked blankly, surprised by the remark. She shifted from foot to foot feeling a surge of something. Jealousy? No. No way. She wasn't entertaining the idea she could be jealous over him.

Mael shot Kristoff a cold look and rolled his eyes. "Not in that manner, Kristoff," he deadpanned. "Though I'm of the opinion that Scharff is attracted to both sides of the coin and wouldn't have half minded a romantic intimate relationship with Hans." He could be wrong about Scharff, but ultimately he didn't care enough to ask.

"Are you sure? Because Hans seemed to not half mind the kiss either," Kristoff replied.

Mael glared at the ice harvester. "While Franz has teased Hans about leaning both ways, and admittedly Hans has never defended, our baby brother rarely takes up any of Franz's taunts these days. None of us do. We usually let them blow over," he answered. "Hans has no interest in other men." As far as he knew, that was. Unless Franz knew or had seen something the rest of them hadn't.

"I wouldn't blame him if he was interested in that man. Harald Scharff is absolutely gorgeous! He's like a modern Narcissus or Adonis. You could confuse him for woman if he put on a dress and grew his hair," Anna said.

"Yes, he does have a very soft and gentle and fresh appearance," Mael admitted. "In fact the first time we saw him, we almost thought he was a girl. Franz teased Hans forever after about Hans's being aroused by the way Harald danced."

"Wait, was he?" Anna asked.

"I wasn't!" Hans insisted. They gasped, sharply looking over, only to see Franz and Harald had seen them and made their way over close enough to be in hearing range. Harald was smirking behind his hand while Hans looked livid. "If anyone was aroused by Harald's dancing, it was Franz! The man was practically star-struck. When we finally figured out Harald was male, Franz blushed and lamented the fact none of the women were dancing so seductively. He taunted to make himself feel less awkward. Why are you even talking about this behind my back anyway?!"

"Calm down, Hans," Elsa replied, smirking. "Kristoff was just wondering if your preferences were towards men or both men and women. Mael was answering."

"Mael?" Harald questioned.

"The name Lars took after father's death," Hans explained to his friend. "Rudi and Runo took the names Rhun and Duach. Caleb took on the name Moren. Suffice it to say, there's a lot for us to catch up on."

"Ah… Hans, I've been trying to catch your eye from the very start of this suitor game! I could hardly believe my eyes when I saw you there with your brothers. You didn't even notice me. Not in the throne room or the suitor wing or the dining room or even on the field when I was fighting against Coth," Harald said, turning attention to Hans and sounding slightly hurt.

"You technically shouldn't even be here, kiddo," Hans replied, grinning at the younger man. Teenager, really. Harald couldn't be more than eighteen, if that. Scharff was younger than Anna. By a good bit, too.

"I wanted to try my hand against princes and nobles. Really test my acting and my skill," Harald answered.

"And now you have me worried," Hans said. He'd seen the shocked, cruel, and more often than not appalled looks the other suitors had given on seeing Harald embrace him. In a game like this, men like these would play at every string and strike any perceived weak point. If they believed it wasn't just women Harald leaned towards, they would go at him and they would attack viciously. "You've made yourself a target, Harald. They'll be on you every second for your affectionate display just now."

"What do you mean?" Harald asked, frowning worriedly.

Elsa caught on. She looked up and noticed a good few of the suitors were approaching, eyes fixed on Harald in a sort of gang mentality. Concern came to her eyes. Perhaps the boy's question would very soon be answered in a manner he, and she for that matter, didn't want it to be. "They will be cruel to you, Harald. Bully you extensively," Mael stated. "Be prepared for torment."

"But-but why would they…?" Harald uneasily began. He didn't get to ask the question.

Frozen

"Little boy, you are getting quite friendly with the dashing young prince of the Southern Isles," one of the suitors approaching called out. The one Mael had called Edvard Collin.

Harald turned and his eyes lit up in realization as he caught on to what Mael had alluded to. Uneasily he shifted, but held his ground and faced the men daringly. He had nothing to be ashamed of. He wouldn't cower to these people or break under them. "Come along with us, Mr. Scharff. Let's practice swordplay. Of the steel variety, of course. Not of the sort you're after," another said. Harald started then looked genuinely hurt.

"How dare…" Anna began.

Elsa put up a hand, silencing her sister. Anna looked at her but fell silent. "Gentlemen, you will refrain from belittling and insulting the young man right now," Elsa warned them dangerously.

The rest of the suitors looked at her in vague annoyance, but Edvard bowed to her in acknowledgement. He turned back to Harald. "Our apologies, sir. It was in bad taste. Now, come along," Edvard said. Harald looked to Hans for direction.

"Don't go," Hans said flat out, glaring at the men icily. "The minute you're out of hearing range of the queen, their 'apology' will mean nothing."

"Are you so sure that's the reason you want him to stay? Because it seems to me you'd much prefer to keep his company for yourself," Edvard said.

"Actually, I would," Hans replied. "He can hold an intelligent conversation without pompousness and arrogance slipping through."

"Which is more than can be said for you, Admiral Westergaard," Edvard replied. The others laughed.

Hans started, blinking at the man, then smirked and chuckled. "So you have a wit after all. How about using it instead of attempting to belittle this young boy? Now, rather than assuming things you have no right assuming, use that brain of yours—which I assume exists—to find a way to win the queen without putting others down."

"My Lord, I'm only copying your stellar example," Edvard 'innocently' said. Elsa's eyes widened slightly. Was this man actually holding his own against Hans in a battle of sharp tongues? Wow. She was a little surprised.

"You little…" Hans began before stopping himself, looking shocked. Was this suitor actually driving him near to losing his calm? Oh no, that wasn't happening. He wasn't letting this stranger get one up on him. He smiled and chuckled, closing his eyes and shaking his head. "You're good," he remarked. "Very good. I leave off impressed." He looked back up at the man, eyes narrowed. "But I would advise you start thinking about what you say before you speak. Insult or attack Mr. Scharff again, I won't waste my time with words. I'll go straight to the blade." Though to be fair, Edvard hadn't directly even insulted or attacked Scharff, albeit he'd been out of line. "Understood, Mr…"

Edvard was silent a long moment. "Edvard Collin," he finally answered. "I understand, my Lord… I must say, even with the stories I've heard of you, you've exceeded my expectations."

"Edvard, you're losing sight of our objective," one of the other suitors said.

"Off with you all," Edvard answered. "We have hassled the young Harald Scharff enough for the day."

"You've hassled Prince Hans more than Scharff," another bluntly stated.

"Yes; and that was far more rewarding than pestering the child could ever have been," Edvard answered, turning and walking away.

Hans watched curiously after him before shaking his head and turning attention back to the suitors. "Leave," he said to them.

"Come on, men. Give the prince and the pauper their privacy. I'm sure they have a lot of catching up to do, and exploring. Of one another," one of the suitors said.

Frozen

The triplets immediately drew their blades. The suitors quickly moved back when Calcas, Connyn, and Coth all faux charged before stopping short in front of their little brother and Scharff. "Insult him again, I dare you," Calcas darkly growled.

"Don't think for a moment we'll hesitate to drench this field in blood," Connyn agreed.

"Keep your tongues in check and stay. Away. From our baby brother," Coth darkly stated.

The suitors, looking shocked, summed up the odds. Seven princes of the Southern Isles plus Harald Scharff, plus the peasant boy the princess, scoff, 'loved', plus potentially the Queen of Arendelle? Those were odds they weren't willing to face. Not at this stage. Swiftly they turned and left in silence. From the side, Edvard Collin watched amusedly and chuckled. Hans gave the man a sharp and warning glare. Edvard smiled, putting up his hands in a pacifying gesture, then left, this time without looking back, though he felt the Prince's eyes on him. This would be fun, he determined.