Sophia found herself wandering into town. It was not a great idea. The place was a recovering war-zone, the dying and sick laying in the streets. Homes and businesses abandoned during the war stood as empty as the eyes of the people.
Several of them licked their lips at the approaching creature. Meat is meat when someone is hungry enough.
The princess looked around in horror. Queen Elsa... her mother, really, had spent no small amount of time keeping the girl updated as to her home-country's state. But she never imagined...
The fox was on high alert, desiring very much to bolt, but Sophia was crushed under guilt and loss. After the initial violence a few years back, Hans had managed to divert the war from out-and-out bloodshed into a series of negotiated skirmishes. It sounded so civil, and diplomats who had been through often told her that, for a civil war, this... well, it wasn't so bad. And, perhaps, it was not, in comparison to other wars. The people were rationed gruel, and for the most part, civilians were not targeted simply because they were defenseless in the face of an overwhelming force. But.
But this was still tragic.
But this was still a warzone.
Having grown up in the warmth and love of Arrendelle, Sophia found these conditions despicable. What if she had been forced to go back with Uncle Hans all those years ago? What if she had grown up here?!
She shook her head of those thoughts. Now was not the time. She had to get somewhere safe and figure out a way to break the curse.
She felt resentment towards her uncle growing. This was his fault. Hans the traitor. Hans who had turned his back on his home and ran off to his precious ice queen for comfort. Hans the wicked.
Hans, her adopted father.
Her mind slipped back to her home but for a moment. Arrendelle was so far away, a dream from a nightmare. Is that why Uncle Hans did what he did? Pursue his White Queen so endlessly? To escape this... disgusting pit?!
At the sound of rolling gravel, the fox took over, bolting her body underneath a heap of stones.
Feeling resentful, she bolted undersneath a heap. Her uncles appeared, one angrier than the other.
"What if he figures it out!?" Said one angrily.
"This wasn't part of the plan; those foxes are extinct!"
They both sighed, "Unbelievable. Olaf set this whole thing into motion, and the only way to seize the power he left behind is to stall for time."
Sophia, despite her fear, grew interested. What was going on here? Whenever the topic of Southern Isles politics came up, she quickly found herself getting a headache. The islands were notorious for deep-rooted schemes, coups, and upheavals.
"Hans knows; there's simply no way he doesn't. It's simply a question of why he's playing along. Think he knows something we don't?"
"I don't know what he does or does not know. All I am sure of is that Hans will die. And not for his queen. No, no... for his thankless niece. She'll be the one to put him under!"
With revived spirits, the brothers took off.
Sophia started feeling bad. Everyone was suffering here while she had grown up in comfort. And, though she had resented her uncle, she had to admit, his relationship with her father (whatever he was) may have been more complicated than she realized. Growing up, it appeared, was very difficult.