AN: I'd just like to say thanks for the reviews, and I would love to hear more from everyone that's reading this - I'm thoroughly enjoying writing this story, and I'm glad that you guys are liking it. :)

Elsa sprinted straight to her chamber where she dismissed all of her ladies at once and lay on her bed in silence for the best of two hours. She didn't know what to do, or what to think. Over time her room had frosted over and eventually became a winter wonderland – everything was glazed with a thin layer of glassy ice, and a light flurry fell from the sealing every now and then.

By the sixth hour of the evening, she decided to stop pitying herself and seek some council. She cleansed her face of any tear-stains and reapplied the light makeup that she wore for casual occasions, using a mirror which was framed with prickly ice and fogged over… Leaving her hair in a Dutch braid she left the room and went straight to her office.

The guards pulled the stately oak doors open with little struggle for her, and she walked in with as much grace as she could muster. Her trusted royal advisor, Henrik stood at his timber bedecked desk, analysing a scroll which was probably addressed to the queen. "Sir Henrik, I apologise for my absence… I haven't been feeling very well." She stole a glance at the room, and took in the warmth of the candles and the rampant fire.
"It's perfectly fine, you're majesty. Nothing too impossible has crossed my path today." His voice was modulated with wisdom and a prime age. Henrik was a man in his early 50's, with light brown hair which had silver running through it and had it always slicked back. His eyes were almost black, and loomed with morality and intelligence. He was naturally taller than Elsa, and had a strong build.

Elsa lightly stepped to the opposing side of his desk, whilst Henrik read the last few lines of the scroll – the script was graceful and lenient. He looked up at the queen "A letter from Queen Elinor of DunBroch, Scotland. Her apology for not being able to attend the young Marquess' presentation." He merely elevated his eye brows and laid the scroll to his right.
"Henrik." She looked at the man and he returned the look, yet he was still bent over his desk with his hands planted like fists on the oak. "I wanted to ask you, when does the party from the Southern isles leave." His expression became confused and slightly hardened. "Henrik what's wrong?"
"Has Prince Hans not spoken to you yet?" The words came out leisurely, and Elsa's eyes widened in shock. He had known what was going to happen, and hadn't warned her.
"You knew!? And did it ever occur to you that perhaps I would want to know." Elsa felt her whole body shudder and squirm.
"Your majesty, of course I did – but it was never my tail to tell." Exasperation encircled his voice but it stayed controlled, and she caught herself. She realised that she had left him to be at her beck-and-call for the entire day, and whilst he was still swathed in paperwork, she expected even more of him.
"I'm sorry. Today I shouldn't have left you to all of this." She jested towards the desk that was sprawled with paper upon paper.
"No. I am your royal advisor as well as humble servant. I apologise. But, I could not have saved you from Prince Hans, he was going to be the one to tell you." He stood up now and looked at the queen with neither a reassuring smile nor a pitiful expression. But he did pity her greatly at this moment – she was so young, and afraid. But the strongest woman that he had ever known.

"What can I do? Can I make it stop?" She took to glancing at the floor and looked all of a sudden like a girl again.
"You could – if you are that desperate. However, the courts would take it as an offence, and you would be stripped of your title as Queen of Arendelle." Elsa sat down on the lounger that faced Henrik's desk, and looked bewildered. Then she slowly nodded and closed her eyes.
"Fine."
"I'm sorry?"
"Fine, I will do that. I had been prepared to hand the thrown to Anna and Kristoff eventually anyway." She looked at him slowly even though she felt extremely unconvinced.
"That is not what you want."
"It is."
"No, it's not. You love Arendelle. Yes, your sister has a pure heart, and she is very popular with the people. But you and I both know that Anna is not what the kingdom needs. At least not now…"
Elsa sighed deeply. He was right: Anna was so affectionate and gentle, but she could not see the bad and wrong in the world and would not know how to deal with the stresses of running a kingdom. It would destroy her, and Arendelle.

"And what about Kristoff, he would make a good king?"
"Perhaps he would, someday. But even he is still easing into being a Duke." Henrik's voice was measured and patient, as was his nature. Elsa burrowed her head into her hands. She lay there for a bit, trying to blank everything out and stop herself from breaking down.
"Why can I never win?" Henrik walked slowly around the desk and sat next to the queen. He only ever felt sorry for her – she didn't deserve this, any of this.
"If it is any consolation, when you and Anna left the palace after your coronation, Prince Hans took over the order of the palace and governed Arendelle. He handed blankets and cloaks out to the local people, and offered the entertainment hall as a soup kitchen. If you were to look past your dealings with him, he is a good and gracious Prince, and I'm sure he would make a just King."
"And what about Anna? What would she say?" Her voice muffled by her gloves.
"It is your verdict, Elsa. But Anna will have to respect your decision at the end of the day." She looked up at the man, and sat to her full height.
"I'll do it then." She looked at him, her nose gave away her weakened state, but her blazing blue eyes shone with conviction. "If it means that I can protect Arendelle and save my sister, then I must. I won't be happy, and I am scared, but oh well." Her voice was brittle and breaking but the words were the truth.
"You are a very brave woman." She smiled at Henrik, and his eyes softened.
"You should go now, and tell him."

Elsa walked quite briskly, as she followed a rushed maid to his room. She didn't often walk through the guest-room-quarter of the castle, and would often get lost. But she enjoyed looking at the paintings on the walls of the corridors – they were illustrations of Arendelle in its youth, and were ever so elegant.
The maid eventually stopped, "Prince Hans' room, your grace." After a weak curtsey she shrunk away in the other direction. Elsa had noted that Hans was housed in one of the more 'first class' rooms – probably due to Henrik's knowledge of the proposal.
Elsa knocked once and then pushed the door open, with slight reluctance. He was pacing up and down with a small book in his gloved right hand, his eyes glued to the pages.

Elsa cleared her throat, and he swiftly looked up – he was quite far away from her and behind the tea table and sofa's, so she could understand why he had not seen her instantly. Hans snapped the book shut in his hand, and took an easy bow before placing the book on the marble shelf above the crackling fire – which was the only thing illuminating the room.

"Queen Elsa. To what do I owe this pleasure?" She wasn't sure of whether he was being sarcastic, or not. But either way she had come to tell him one thing, and she would go through with it, no matter what.
"Prince Hans." Her voice shook but she made sure not to lose volume. She stepped closer, and he moved around the sofa and stoop in front of it with his arms crossed, relaxing his lower back onto the furniture. She watched the muscles flex in his caffs – clearly he was a rider. The intimate light of the flickering fire lit half of Elsa's face and he noticed the pinkness of her cheeks and nose, but didn't think much of it. "I have come to accept your proposal."
"Oh." His voice was slightly stunned but his body didn't portray emotion, apart from the fact that he uncrossed his arms and stood up straight.
"Yes. I hope you are pleased with yourself?" Elsa lightly smiled as to torment Hans, and to find an answer from him. She didn't really know if he wanted this to happen either.
"I- well I suppose no matter what, I was going to married off. I- suppose I am quite lucky that you are somewhat fair of face." The compliment came out quite withered and stiff, but Hans did mean it.
"Well- if that is that. Goodnight Prince Hans." She nodded lightly and turned to leave the room.

"Elsa, wait." He halted her with his hand and jested for her to sit on the sofa. She obliged, cautiously.
Elsa walked past the prince, and sat on the single sofa – as to not allow him to sit next to her. The prince passively walked in the opposite direction, around the larger sofa and stood across from the queen on the other side of the tea table.
Elsa followed him with her eyes. He walked lightly and slowly. She had noticed that the prince tended to walk slower when he was thinking of what he was about to say. Just then he stopped and looked to the ceiling and then the fire. The raging talons shone in his eyes, and his eyebrows loosened as he came to a conclusion.
"Do you want to do this, you don't have to if you don't want to. You know that." He didn't remove his eyes from the furnace to see the astonishment on her face. Elsa didn't think that he would wonder, let alone care about how she felt about the situation; then again, she wondered if it was what he wanted.
The queen composed herself, and took a light breath to clear her mind before speaking. She looked at him for a moment, and finally he looked back. His face slightly confused. It was attractive in an arresting way, with the light of the fire flickering on half of his face.

"If it is the lesser of two evils, then I want it."
"And what if it is not the lesser of three evils." His tone had somehow become frosty and absent. He looked back at the fire.
"I don't understand." Elsa's voice became meagre. He took a small breath of exasperation.
"You give up the throne. Or you marry me, and all is well. Or, perhaps you marry me, and I am a dreadful partner." He stood with his hands in his pockets, but still his body stood tall and resolute.
"I, still don't understand…"
"We do not love each other, fair enough. But even so: I might become hostile, I may become somewhat of a depressant. I may even simply tire of you." This time he looked at her dead on. The words prickled at Elsa's mind – tweezing at her thoughts. "Elsa, I make no promise to ever remotely love you. I know that I won't be honest, or loyal or considerate. Do you understand now?" His face was solemn and his brows were furrowed as he tried to explain the glazing of his latest thoughts.

She exhaled the breath that she had held on for what seemed like a while. She looked back into his tawny eyes and deep inside found acceptance in the thing. She realised that he was only being realistic. Her life was no fairy-tale after all.
"Precisely." And she left.