Jealousy is the Green Eyed Monster

(A/N: Really sorry for the late update, but work and all that. Anyway, if the title wasn't a giveaway, lot of jealousy in this chapter, and high emotions later on. It's been a month or two since last chapter, and a lot has been developing between Edvard and Elsa. Enough that the princes are taking notice, so yeah. Prepare for drama.)

Iscawin watched, frowning, as Elsa walked with Edvard below. He disapproved of how much time the two had been spending together. Up to these last couple of months it had been him and his brothers monopolizing the queen's time. Now Edvard was the one she spent it with. He had been offsetting Edvard's time and monopolizing his own majority with the queen, but it wasn't slowing the progressing of Elsa and Edvard's relationship. That, in turn, only meant trouble. That Edvard was getting so close to her highly unimpressed him. He glanced over at the sibling watching with him, whose expression was dark and borderline murderous. Hans. He had hated to do this to his brother, bring him up here to observe this occurrence, but the other had to see.

"This can't be allowed to go on," Iscawin said to his little brother. If anyone could block this now, it was Hans. Hans's eyes were locked on Edvard icily. He gave no acknowledgement he'd heard. "Hans," Iscawin said a little sharper, a hint of jealousy in his voice as his eyes narrowed at his sibling. He hadn't liked the idea of letting Hans near her again, but Mael had been insistent. Now the second youngest prince had two other suitors to be jealous of, and his own brother was one of them.

Hans tensed up then turned to him. "I heard you," he answered. "And I agree."

"She's slipping through our fingers," Iscawin said.

Hans looked back out the window and sighed. "She was never in our grasps to start," he said. "We had the advantage and now we don't, simple as that. We assumed one of us would be her final choice no matter what happened. Now we're paying for it."

"I still have a hold on her," Iscawin insisted.

"No one has a hold on the queen," Hans said. "No one ever will."

But she had a hold on them… On him…

"That isn't the point! The point is we can still pull her back, but we need to act," Iscawin said.

"I'm aware," Hans replied. "Look, I'll deal with it. With him."

"Please don't corrupt my words," Iscawin said in a groan, rolling his eyes hopelessly.

"It's not like I'm going to murder the guy! Come on, give me some credit," Hans protested. Though honestly, the thought of murdering Edvard seemed more and more appealing the closer the man seemed to draw to Elsa. Hans glanced out the window and his eyes lit up blazingly on noting how close Edvard was moving. Elsa, of course, was subtly putting distance between their faces, but that didn't stop Hans from wanting her to slap the man, jerk away, and never look back. Hey, wishful thinking. Edvard, though, got the hint and respectfully withdrew. Which only served to make Hans more agitated.

He is everything you could have been…

Distress visibly appeared in his expression. "Do you hate him?" Iscawin asked, noting the look that had passed his brother's face.

"No… I don't," Hans admitted. "I just wish…"

"That you had been the sort of man he is?" Iscawin questioned.

"No... I wish I had never become a monster," Hans said with a frustrated sigh, drawing a hand through his hair. "That's what I wish."

"Don't we all?" Iscawin murmured. Hans was quiet, watching Elsa and Edvard walk together. His distaste only grew more. "I hate him, I think," Iscawin said.

"That's your jealousy talking, big brother," Hans said. "He's what I could have been, you know…"

"No. He isn't. Everything you could have been, you're coming to be now. I see it. The changes in you… He may be able to keep up a banter with you, he may have some parallels with you, but at the same time you and he couldn't be more different," Iscawin said.

"And yet so similar," Hans said. He frowned as Edvard took the queen's hands, drawing her close and saying something that made her giggle. Hans's eyes narrowed. He heard Iscawin scoff and knew the other was no more impressed with it all than he was. That was it. They were going down there. He wouldn't try to go for Elsa, that would be too obvious, but he would draw Edvard away from her, if nothing else, and keep his attention focused on him instead of her. Iscawin could whisk Elsa off, then.

"You and he get along," Iscawin remarked to Hans. "At least when you aren't arguing."

"We've never really genuinely argued. Bantered, accused, but not argued," Hans said. "I would have been fond of him, if we'd met before all of this."

"You may yet be. And that might help us in the end. Befriend him, Hans. He seems a more loyal sort than we are. If you two get close enough, he may actually agree to withdraw his hand for your sake," Iscawin said.

"Or it'll backfire and I'll withdraw mine for his," Hans deadpanned.

"Somehow, little brother, I doubt that very much," Iscawin replied incredulously. He's seen all too well, and all too painfully, the way Hans had taken to looking at the queen. No force on earth would drive Hans to pull out. Not yet.

Frozen

Edvard and Elsa sat together on a bench, grinning and talking to one another about various interests and likes, even on occasion sharing a secret between them. She had seen much of Edvard, these past weeks, and she liked what she was learning of him. He was a simple man, but also complex. It was an interesting combination. Endearing, if at times annoying. Of course there would always be aspects of people you found particularly annoying. She had her share of annoyances with the Princes of the Southern Isles too. Edvard wore no mask. She liked that about him. It seemed the Princes of the Southern Isles went through life in some sort of a constant masquerade. Edvard had his deceits and his trickeries and his plots, but he never hid that fact from anyone. He was a pleasant change. One she liked.

But not in the way you like the Princes… He appeals to you and you love him. Perhaps you would even marry him. The love you felt for him, though… What would it really be? If you take that leap, you will either come to regret it or you will be content with it… But is content all that you wish to be?

Elsa inwardly frowned at that thought, though outwardly she kept on her smile. She could be happy with it, she determined. She would be happy with him as her husband, if she chose him. She knew she would.

But you would always wonder…

Wonder what?

Wonder what could have been had you chosen the young Admir…

"Queen Elsa, Edvard!" a voice called out, breaking her thought process. Elsa and Edvard looked over. Approaching them were Hans and Iscawin, smiling pleasantly enough. She and Edvard could both see, though, that the smiles were masks in their own right. Jealousy was plain in Iscawin's eyes, and the look in Hans's… It was more a mix. One Elsa couldn't place. Edvard, on the other hand… He met the young Admiral's eyes and held them cautiously.

Iscawin, who had spoken, bowed to her, followed by Hans. "Prince Iscawin, Prince Hans," Elsa greeted, nodding in acknowledgement. "May I ask why you've come and interrupted my conversation with Edvard?"

"No, you may not," Hans replied. Elsa started and her eyes narrowed at the prince coldly. "You asked," Hans said, smirking tauntingly.

Elsa looked vaguely surprised, then smiled in amusement. Really she'd walked herself right into that one. "Fine, I wasn't interested anyway," she replied. "I asked to be polite," she quickly added before Hans could say something like 'then why did you ask in the first place'.

"You're catching onto this little game, your Majesty," Hans said.

"Funny. I was under the impression I'd caught onto it long ago," she replied.

"Ah, but that was about the quickest you've ever corrected a slip," Hans said. "Now if you don't mind, my queen, I would like to pull Edvard away for a while."

"Edvard?" Elsa asked, surprised. Why was he suddenly so interested in Edvard?

"Me?" Edvard questioned, equally confused.

"Yes you," Hans replied, smiling cordially. "Come on. Let's go riding or go to town or something."

"Why?" Edvard asked.

Hans shrugged. "No reason," he answered. "Mending bridges in a way, I guess."

"Um… alright?" Edvard guardedly replied, raising an eyebrow. It was also probably a way to get Iscawin and Elsa some alone time together, but he supposed he could let that go for now. After all, he was honestly and truly interested in trying to mend bridges between himself and Hans. It wasn't that they were on bad terms - in fact after their last conversation on the day the hunting party had been called off, the two of them had reached a sort of understanding and familiarity - but there was still tension he'd like to smooth over. He believed he once could have quite liked the young prince. He still could. He was willing to give a friendship a shot. "Are you alright with it, Elsa?" he asked the queen.

Elsa, frowning, watched Hans cautiously, trying to tell his intentions. "If any harm befalls either of you, I'll be less than impressed," she warned.

"There won't be any harming," Hans assured.

"Very well," Elsa relented.

"Perhaps, your Majesty, you would care to grace me with some of your time?" Iscawin asked hopefully.

Elsa looked over at him and gently smiled. "I would," she said, bowing her head. He grinned softly at her and pulled her to her feet, bowing his head. She smiled approvingly at him and linked her arm through his. She looked worriedly back at Edvard and Hans, both obviously put out by this turn of events and the way she and Iscawin were linking arms, and said, "Please don't try and kill each other."

"We won't!" Hans and Edvard insisted together. Elsa smirked and left with Iscawin, grinning winningly up at him. Hans and Edvard exchanged looks and shifted awkwardly.

Frozen

"Why did you want to spend time with me, Hans?" Edvard asked.

"Because you're monopolizing too much of Elsa's time for the Southern Isles to be happy with," Hans answered.

Edvard blinked in surprise. "Well… that was more honest than I expected," he remarked.

"I have no reason to lie to you. As you said, we're all competing for her hand," Hans said.

"Why did you not request she accompany you? Instead you requested to me," Edvard said.

"I didn't ask for her to accompany me, because our orders from our brother are to be sure one of us, or someone from Norway, marries her. Which of us ends up her consort is of no consequence, and Iscawin seems to have the best shot at reaching that objective," Hans replied.

"But you want her to choose you," Edvard bluntly said.

"Lies!" Hans replied.

"The only one you're lying to is yourself," Edvard replied. Hans glared but made no defense. "You will not have her, Hans. I will be sure of it."

"I do like challenges," Hans mused. He looked at Edvard. "You're out of your league, friend. With her and with me both."

Hans caught his breath as suddenly Edvard dangled something in front of him. He looked at it as though it were a cross to a vampire. "A token of her favor. Gifted to me at the start of this month," Edvard said. Hans's eyes were fixed on the object, a beautiful watch crafted of her ice. What on...? She-she had given Edvard...? Oh no... A token so intricate was a sign of something serious developing between the two of them. "She is of her own mind, Hans, as you've often said. Your mistake was assuming, despite that, that she would choose you or one of your brothers… We have become very, very close, her and I, over these last few months. These past two in particular… I want to keep up that closeness to her. She means a good deal to me." Hans was silent. "Are you so sure, now, that I'm out of your league?"

Hans stared at the watch then looked away, hiding a slightly hurt expression before turning back. "I never mean you were out of my league in competition to her," he answered.

Edvard sighed, tucking away the watch. "I don't want to be your enemy, Hans… You mean more to her than you know…" he said. "She talks about you. Often. About how she is grateful that you're here. Grateful you seem to understand her in ways she isn't used to. She values your friendship."

Friendship… Friendship... That word shouldn't have struck him in the gut as hard as it did, Hans noted. He felt ill, suddenly. He tried to chalk it up to perhaps getting the flu. He only ended up scoffing at himself. "Yeah… friendship…" Hans murmured. At least, though, Iscawin still had a chance, if friendship was truly all she felt for him. Which it was, of course! He hadn't expected anything different, after all.

But you hoped…

Hoped what? He inwardly scoffed. He hoped nothing. He had hoped she had felt something more for him so that it could secure the certainty they'd make it to the finals, and that was it. Edvard watched Hans silently. "It could be more," he offered, feeling slightly guilty on seeing the range of emotions flickering over the Prince's face. He didn't know what it was Hans felt for Elsa, or what it was she felt for him if it was anything, but it was there. It was there, and it was plain for everyone to see, as much as the prince and queen wished it wasn't.

"Don't try to play nice," Hans replied.

"I just… You wanted to mend bridges, and I want that too," Edvard said. "Maybe you're just trying to befriend me to further your own goals, but I hope it comes to be more than that. I admire you, your highness. I find myself intrigued by you and the stories you tell of yourself and your brothers. Must we be only rivals?"

Hans tilted his head at Edvard curiously, ponderously. "Very well. Come to the tavern with me," he finally replied.

Edvard breathed a sigh and smiled, nodding. That, he knew, was a sign that Hans had been open to the idea of at least trying for a friendship. In the tavern they could speak to each other as men, not as competing suitors. "Thank you," he said. Hans nodded. Truth be told, he honestly looked forward to talking to Edvard as just a man and not a competitor. For once he didn't want some ulterior motive to drive him. Besides, it would get his mind off of Elsa... He hoped.

Next Evening

"The chimney-sweep and the little shepherdess looked piteously at the old Chinaman, for they were afraid he might nod; but he was not able: besides, it was so tiresome to be always telling strangers he had a rivet in the back of his neck.

And so the little china people remained together, and were glad of the grandfather's rivet, and continued to love each other till they were broken to pieces," Hans finished.

"It was a good story," Elsa said. "Just the right balance of humor and seriousness."

"And romance!" Anna chimed, grinning.

Elsa smiled. "I loved it. And the fact it had a happy ending. Well, as happy as you seem to get," she teased.

"Don't patronize me," Hans deadpanned, frowning at her. "But thank you," he added with a smile.

"You're writing many more happy endings, these days," Elsa said. In fact, since The Little Match Girl, all he had been sending her seemed to be happy endings. The Shepardess and the Sweep, which he had just read, was simply the most recent in the series.

"So I am," Hans noted, looking over the stories he had been reading to or sending her throughout this whole process. "I know you prefer happy endings, my queen." he added, glancing at her. She blushed faintly, glad for the dimness of the carriage.

"Perhaps, and for that I'm grateful, but on occasion I like to switch it up with tragedy or bittersweet ends. Or hear stories with less comic and more serious aspects," she admitted. Hans tilted his head and was about to answer, but before he could their conversation was cut short.

"Hans, you really should look at getting published," Edvard remarked to him. The two of them had had quite a pleasant evening the night before, at the tavern. At first it had felt odd, but soon enough they had both been laughing and bonding over various subjects and topics as if they were old friends. He had enjoyed it. Every moment of it. As had Hans. They'd almost been reluctant to end the night, but had nonetheless, on good terms. With luck, that balance would stay for a time.

"No kidding. Children and adults both would devour those tales," Kristoff agreed.

"I've thought about it, but not seriously," Hans said, giving up on replying to Elsa. At least for now.

"Why not?" Duke Carl, also in the carriage with them along with Harald Scharff, questioned curiously.

"Because no one would believe a prince wrote stories like these," Hans replied, smirking. "Not with their subject matter and the things they on occasion poke fun at. Besides, peasants wouldn't buy a book written by a prince. Either it would be too expensive, or they would just want to spite it. Royalty won't purchase them either, because they would be offended and enraged more often than not."

"You'd have guaranteed buyers in us," Edvard said to the prince.

"Yes, well, that isn't exactly going to get the stories out there, is it?" Hans asked, smirking.

"You could publish anonymously, or with a penname," Carl pointed out.

"Hans Christian Andersen is the name you on occasion used when sending pictures," Harald agreed.

"I'll think about it," Hans replied, wanting attention off of him.

"Where did the name Andersen come from?" Anna questioned.

"My father. Andersen literally means son of Andrew, or son of Anders," Hans replied. "My father's name was Hans Christian Andrew Westergaard. He went by Andrew, more often than not, as that was grandfather's name."

"Why did he name his thirteenth son after himself?" Kristoff asked, puzzled.

"He didn't. Mother did, hoping it would gain me some fraction of his love. You can guess how well that panned out," Hans deadpanned. The carriage was slowing to a stop, now, outside of the grand theatre in the city Hans had brought Elsa to on the day they had spent together. The group looked towards it and waited for the coach to stop.

Frozen

Music filled the theatre as the concert reached the last song before intermission. "Beethoven! One of my absolute favorites," the Duke of Weselton stated.

"It's amazing," Elsa said. "He was a marvellous composer. One of the best."

"No kidding. This is intense," Anna said.

"It's his Fifth Symphony," Calcas said to Anna, enthusiastic about being here. "One of his more intense ones to be sure. Especially the first movement, also the best known. He died when Hans was twenty-two, thereabouts. Let's see… Hans just turned twenty-four recently, and so it's been about a year or so? A year and a half or maybe two? Approximately that."

"A huge blow to the musical community," Coth dryly said.

"What a waste," Connyn ruefully agreed.

"You know, parents would often refuse to let their children attend his concerts," Hans remarked.

"Why?" Elsa questioned.

Hans smirked devilishly, looking over at her. "Because they believed his music awakened within you sinful and disgraceful passions," he said to her in a more-than-a-little sultry tone.

Elsa blushed bright red, eyes widening. The Duke spewed out the wine he'd been sipping, choking on it as the others in the box seat gawked at Hans in disbelief and shock. Hans simply chuckled and sipped casually at his champagne like he'd never spoken. Elsa was frozen in her seat, hands gripping the arms of the chair tightly and eyes fixed on the orchestra. So much for being able to focus on the rest of the symphony, she dryly noted. Now those words would be swirling in her head for the rest of the night. Intermission couldn't get here soon enough. Carl and Edvard, meanwhile, eyed Hans warily and exchanged looks, subtly nodding to each other.

Frozen

Elsa breathed in the night air as she stood outside of the theatre on a balcony. It was so much more soothing out here, and quiet. She looked back and silently observed the remaining suitors with the people of the city. It was obvious which ones looked down on them and thought little of the lesser classes. Those showed favor to the nobility and turned a blind eye to the commoners. Hans, it seemed, was avoiding the whole situation, but whenever someone approached him he greeted them amicably, be they commoner or nobility. Edvard was catching her eye most, however. He had gathered together commoner and nobility all into a circle, and he spoke to them as if blind to their class distinctions, and ensured they spoke to each other the same. It was amazing to watch, for her. So few would do such a thing. She found herself softly smiling. She could in time grow to love this man, she decided. As a dear, dear friend, if nothing else. He would make a good king. He looked over at her and caught her eye. Softly he grinned at her. She grinned back and waved. He turned to the group he was with and nodded at them all, bowing then taking his leave. They, however, continued to speak, Elsa was glad to see.

Hans caught sight of Edvard moving towards the balcony and watched after him. He started on seeing who he was going towards. Elsa, who was grinning gently at him and allowing him to approach her. He blinked blankly then frowned, tilting his head. What was this now? He pursed his lips. Edvard would prove to be more a problem than he'd believed the man would be, he decided. He watched Edvard go out and gently take Elsa's hand in his, kissing them softly. He stood upright, suddenly much more intrigued in his development. This would bear watching. Edvard showed her he was wearing the watch she had crafted him. She was pleased and flattered. Hans shifted uneasily as the two linked arms, beaming at each other, and began to walk along the balcony and down the stairs to the courtyard. Quickly he made his way towards the doors as well, to watch in silence. He followed them outside and went to the railing of the veranda, looking down. They strolled around the fountain, close to each other's sides and still, of course, arm-in-arm. He frowned, leaning on the railing and eyeing them icily.

Jealously…

He inwardly kicked the voice that had said as much and focused on observing them and listening. He felt protective, that was it. There was no jealousy. Just protectiveness. He wanted to be sure she didn't make a choice she regretted for the rest of her life.

Frozen

"Have I passed your test, Queen Elsa?" Edvard asked.

"Test?" she asked, playing dumb.

"I wasn't aware it was a test at first, you know. Until I saw you staring," Edvard said.

She flushed slightly then smiled up at him. "You have," she confirmed. "More than I expected of any of the suitors."

"Then will you choose me?" he questioned.

"No shortcuts, Edvard," Elsa replied, walking onwards again.

"Why not? What holds you back? Do you not care for me?" he asked, following.

"I do. Deeply," she replied. "Deeper than I believed I could ever care for any of my suitors."

Hans felt his heart sink, and he shifted uneasily, eyes filling with slight hurt.

Then you cared nothing for me…? Why does that thought pain me like it does…?

"Then why wait?" Edvard asked, catching her hand and pulling her back gently. "I want to be with you. Forever. Don't hold back. If I am the one your heart is with, then marry me. Marry me, Queen Elsa of Arendelle, and I will do all I can to make you happy the rest of your days."

"E-Edvard, you have no right to propose to me so early into this game! The others, they haven't even had a fair chance," a flustered, shocked, and confused Elsa said. "I may care for you more than I thought I would come to, but not like that! I can't see myself loving anyone. Not this early. I've known you only a few months!" And when she had said she had come to care for him deeper than she believed she could ever care for any of her suitors, she hadn't factored in the Princes of the Southern Isles… She hadn't factored in the youngest… Quickly she banished the creeping thought.

"It isn't a proposal, Queen Elsa. I promise. Just… think about it, please?" Edvard pled. "I have come to love you, even in this short time, and if you can't see yourself loving anyone then why does it matter if you choose me or not? Please… Give me this. I'll never let you regret it."

"I… I can't…" she said. "Not yet. Not now… Hold off for a little longer. Just a little. For my sake," she said. "Until I can figure things out."

He sighed deeply, looking down. "There is nothing I would not do for you… So if you want me to be patient, I will be," he relented.

"Thank you," she said, letting out a relieved breath. "It isn't… it isn't that I don't care for you. Or love you, in my own way. It's just… This is all still so sudden and new and… I need time. Time to think it over, to make sure this is something I want and can do," she said.

"So be it. I will wait for as long as it takes," Edvard stated. Honestly, the brazen move had gone over better than he'd thought it would. He'd taken a huge risk, and been a little over dramatic, but at least it had thrown her off her guard. Now, at least, she would think more seriously about him as a candidate. Elsa smiled at him. He drew her into a hug. Elsa allowed it, though she knew such a gesture was inappropriate given the status of their relationship, to say nothing of the public location. She would give him this, though. She couldn't deny a part of her liked it anyway…

She sneezed suddenly. Edvard felt something move against him and pulled away, startled. He blinked down at Elsa. The Queen looked shocked. In her arms was a tiny creature he'd never seen before. It looked like a mini snowman. "Uh oh," she said.

"What on earth is that?" Edvard asked, eying the little thing and taking it from her gently and curiously.

"They appear whenever I sneeze," Elsa answered in embarrassment, covering her face. "It's called a Snowgie. It's, uh, a snow baby."

"Dada!" the Snowgie cheered, looking up at Edvard.

Above, Hans felt like he'd just been punched in the gut. Harshly. He didn't understand why, just that he did.

Elsa flushed bright red, as did Edvard. The two grinned awkwardly at each other and he cleared his throat, handing the snow baby back to her. "Well, it certainly is a talker," Edvard said.

"S-sorry about that," Elsa said.

"Don't be. It's adorable," Edvard replied. "Come. Let's go back inside before you catch cold and more of these little ones pop out and start calling us their parents."

"R-Right," Elsa, still embarrassed, said. She looked over, spotting two children who were looking at her in shocked wonder. They had seen her conjure the snow baby, it would seem. Elsa smiled at them and knelt. "Little ones, would you like it?" she asked them. "I can make another. One for each of you." The children gasped and quickly hurried over. Elsa grinned and sneezed again, making a second as well as making the little ones giggle. She gave one each to the two children, who began laughing and immediately playing with the Snowgies. Elsa grinned, watching them. Edvard placed his hands on her shoulders, standing behind the kneeling queen and smiling at the sight.

Hans scoffed in disgust and angrily turned from the railing, marching back inside with eyes dark and blazing. Really he didn't know why seeing this so upset him. He knew from the start he would never be her choice anyway. They were friends, if that, and nothing more… Seeing her in Edvard's arms… It had no right to anger him like it did…

But it makes your blood boil…

Hans scowled darkly to himself. Yes… Yes it did…

Four Days Later

Elsa watched Hans curiously as they sat together in the garden. It was his day to spend with her. But he wasn't looking at her, his attention instead on the pond and the butterflies flying around. She shifted. "Is something wrong?" she finally said.

"Wrong? Why should anything be wrong?" he questioned.

"I don't know. You're just… you're acting distant," she answered.

"We both know this suitor game is a farce. You've chosen the man you will marry," Hans replied. "So why should I bother reaching for something unattainable?"

"What man have I chosen?" she questioned, eyes narrowing.

"Edvard Collin, of course," Hans replied more snappily than he'd intended. But while he was being snappy… "You're not exactly as subtle and chaste as you think you are, when you're with him. It's like you don't even notice if something improper is happening between you two when he's around. God, you're acting like Anna does with Kristoff."

"I am not!" Elsa defended, offended. "And what does it matter to you if I have chosen him?"

"It doesn't," Hans replied with a scoff. "Choose whatever man makes you happy."

"I will," she said. "And if it's him, so what? You're acting like a jealous child."

"Jealous?! Need I remind you of what we are to one another?" Hans asked. "Didn't I tell you, not even long ago, that I could never see myself loving you?"

She looked visibly hurt, then angry. Sharply she turned away. She didn't want him to see just how hurt she felt at those words. "Then why are you here?" she demanded.

"Because I have no choice!" Hans shot. "Believe me, if I did I would've stayed home!"

"No one's keeping you here, Prince Hans! If you want a boat home, I'll give you one!" she angrily said, rising and marching quickly away from him. She hated that she felt a burning in her eyes. Why should he, of all people, drive her to tears? This argument wasn't even bad!

But it hurts worse than you ever thought it would…

She sped up.

Call me back… Call be back, call me out, try to argue, do something to keep me here…

But he didn't… She wiped her eyes furiously, feeling a tear slip out. That man would not drive her to cry.

Frozen

Hans paced restlessly around his room then furiously knocked over a lamp, chastising himself over and over for his behavior towards her. He also was furious, though, that she was letting Edvard so close. There was a firm knock on his door. Sharply he looked over, eyes narrowed. "What?!" he demanded sharply.

The door opened with a bang and Edvard angrily stormed in. "What did you say to her?!" he demanded of Hans, getting almost right in his face.

"Oh, so she ran into your arms, then. Congratulations, Edvard. You must be so proud of yourself!" Hans shot.

"She ran into the Duke of Weselton's arms! Near tears, Hans! I just happened to be there while he stroked her hair and tried to soothe her. He gave me a look that screamed 'deal with that worthless whelp, no one makes my baby cry and gets off unscathed', but he hardly had to. I was already on my way out to find you. What did you say to her?!" Edvard ordered.

Hans cursed the painful pang of guilt he felt shoot through him, then ignored it. Keep on the mask. Keep wearing the mask. "The cold hard truth! I reminded her I couldn't ever see myself loving her and told her that if I'd had a choice, I wouldn't be here," Hans replied.

"You son of a bitch!" Edvard freaked.

"Don't pretend you're not thrilled!" Hans shot at him.

"Who's pretending?!" Edvard demanded. "I'm not thrilled! I'm appalled! What possessed you to say something like that to her?"

"It isn't like I haven't said it before!" Hans defended, feeling worse and worse by the second and more and more like a liar.

"But you've never said it like this! You've never said it when you two were in this place you are now, whatever the hell that place is!" Edvard shouted. "God, you're out of your mind!"

"What am I supposed to do, Edvard?" Hans demanded.

"You could maybe apologize?!" Edvard shot.

Hans was quiet. He'd never… technically sincerely apologized. At least, not like this. Not after a fight this hurtful. "What will it matter if I apologize or not? By the end of this month, or next month, we'll be gone anyway."

"You are so selfish!" Edvard barked.

"Oh for the love of… I didn't say I wouldn't! I said what would it matter?" Hans demanded.

"It will matter more to Elsa than you know!" Edvard replied.

"Why are you suddenly so interested in her and me mending? I'm your greatest threat, remember? Why can't you just let her fall into your arms and plot out your advancement to the throne like any other suitor would do?" Hans demanded. "This is between Elsa and me!" Before he could even process a threat, he yelped as Edvard delivered a vicious blow to his face. Stunned, Hans looked at him in shock. What had just…? Uh oh. "Whoa!" Hans exclaimed, barely managing to dodge another blow. Next thing he knew, a sword was at his throat. "What the hell?!" Hans exclaimed, putting up his hands.

"Get out of the room," Edvard darkly warned. Hans didn't move. The sword pressed tighter and he winced, feeling it uncomfortably pricking into his skin. He backed slowly out, on high alert. He winced as he felt the wall of the hallway against his back. "I have half a mind to kill you, you know. Fortunately for you, the punishment wouldn't suit the crime."

"Unfortunately for you, I don't play the mercy game as well as you do," Hans said, immediately he kicked Edvard's legs out from under him. Edvard cried out in surprise, falling. Hans dove onto him and seized his sword. The two began wrestling violently for its possession, determined to be the victor in this game. Viciously Hans drove a fist into Edvard's side. Edvard cried out, but kept a firm hold on his weapon. He head-butted the prince, who gasped, briefly dazed. Edvard went at him with the blade again, but Hans caught the man's wrists and held him away, scowling. With a vicious cry he flipped Edvard over onto his back and straddled him, squeezing with all his might on the other's wrist. Edvard grimaced then screamed in pain, dropping the sword. Hans seized it quickly but Edvard recovered, leaping at him again and fighting for the blade.

"Hans, Edvard!" an alarmed voice cried out. Both froze, looking up, and stiffened. Their eyes widened. Elsa! At her side stood the Duke, Anna, and Kristoff, each one of them looking horrified.

Frozen

Edvard and Hans, panting, didn't look about to release each other. Soon, though, both relented and rose, Edvard picking up his sword and tucking it away. "What was happening here?!" the Duke demanded.

"I was putting the whelp in his place," Edvard replied with a scoff.

"Bite me!" Hans shot at him.

"Have them both imprisoned," the Duke said, waving his hand dismissively. "Perhaps a night in the dungeon will cool their collars." Edvard winced. Elsa seemed too tired to argue and looked about to do just as the Duke had suggested.

Hans growled in annoyance. "Leave Edvard out of this," he said. "If not for my misconduct, things wouldn't have escalated like they did. It's my fault. Not his." Edvard looked at Hans, obviously shocked. Hans shrugged hopelessly. "You were right," he said by way of excuse. Edvard shifted and looked slightly guilty, turning to the ground. Hans sighed deeply and turned to Elsa, who wasn't looking at him. "Elsa?" he asked.

"What?" she coldly questioned.

He inwardly winced, shifting. "Your Majesty… I'm sorry," he said to her. "For everything I said… I know I hurt you. I won't say I didn't intend to, because I did. I spoke knowing that each word would cut like a knife, and I regret every one of those words now that I've had time to look back… I don't want to be that sort of man, but I was just… I was angry, I was hur…" He trailed off. "I was hurt…" Elsa tensed up slightly. He'd heard what she had said to Edvard the night of the concert. He must have. "I wasn't thinking, and I'm sorry. That's all I can say."

She closed her eyes then turned to him, opening them once more. "I didn't mean to hurt you," she said to him. "Whatever you heard… Whatever you heard, I just wish you had given me the chance to explain."

"I wish I had too," Hans said. Without waiting to hear more, he walked passed them ashamedly. Edvard looked guiltily down.

"Hans, wait up!" Kristoff called, going after him. Edvard shook his head and quickly went after the prince as well. Elsa held her head in her hands. Why was it so hard? Why did love… Her eyes widened and quickly she turned attention away from that thought before it could finish.

"I… I have to see Mael," she murmured by way of excuse to the Duke and Anna.

"Elsa!" Anna called. Elsa was already headed off.

"Do not worry, my dear. She will be alright," the Duke assured Anna. Anna looked worriedly after her sister, but nodded nonetheless.