Two
It was three o'clock and teacups were set next to dainty plates holding miniature sandwiches. Elsa and Anna's new tradition of daily tea was already familiar, but Elsa couldn't remember the first thing about how to be a good tea-time partner.
Anna never ran out of words. She talked on and on, filling the gap that Elsa left. Not that chatty was a bad thing. On the contrary, Elsa liked that Anna was talkative. It gave her time to know her sister better, now that walls had been knocked down. And the queen was good at listening, so they made a perfect match.
However, not even Anna made much more comment than, "Wow, it's really hot today, huh? Sure is a scorcher," to which Elsa nodded, tapping one finger in her tea and watching crystals form across the liquid's surface.
They both wanted to talk about Hans, and simultaneously didn't. What they were certain of is that they didn't want to be the one to bring him up.
Not able to stand the silence, Anna took the plunge. "What are we going to do with him?"
Elsa didn't look up from her icy tea. She didn't mind warm drinks, but tea set on ice always felt more natural to her cold blood. Not even iced tea seemed appealing right now.
"Kristoff says we should send him back to his home," Anna continued when Elsa failed to add her thoughts. "He said they might want a letter first, but he wants him gone as soon as possible. Who knew he'd be a worrier, right?" Anna laughed a little, twisting one of her friendly braids around her finger.
Elsa still said nothing, wanting to smile but unable to.
Anna abandoned her braid, letting it hang limp again as her finger resorted to tapping restlessly on the table. "You... you never figured out why he was here?" she asked, quieter.
Elsa looked up from her tea to meet Anna's curious eyes. She was attempting to mask her interest but miserably failing.
"Not exactly," Elsa finally said, slowly. "I... lost my temper, speaking to him. I left before I could find out very much."
"Are you okay?" Anna asked, reaching across the table. Instinctively, Elsa pulled her bare hands from her cup to under the table, immediately holding her arms.
The sisters paused, and Anna drew her hand back. Her expression grew sheepish, guilty even. "Sorry. I just forget you're so... touchy."
Elsa looked down at her hands and bit her inner lip. "No, don't apologize. I... I should be getting used to touch."
She brought her hands to the table again, though Anna didn't reach for them a second time. Elsa wasn't sure if she was relieved or sad. She hoped Anna didn't see they were slightly shaking.
"I did find out that he wants a ship," Elsa tried to get back into their previous conversation. "He promised that if I gave him one, we'd never see him again.."
"And you said no?" Anna asked, mouth full of sandwich, spewing crumbs across the table.
"Why would I say yes?" Elsa asked, reaching to sip her tea, but finding it frozen solid. "I have no reason to trust him and no reason to grant his wishes. Nothing he says can be taken for truth."
Anna nodded as she chewed, staring out the window of the parlor. "Ingvalda says that the Southern Isles probably won't have very good trading for a while. She's worried about ours, too. Said that after shutting out Weselton and the Southern Isles, something about exports and imports going down. I'm not really sure what that means, but she seemed pretty passionate."
Elsa wondered if this was another one of her selfish acts. Closing trade with not only her closest trading partner, but also one of the most influential kingdoms. The Southern Isles weren't completely unknown to Elsa before Hans came into their lives. They had their hands in many cookie jars, as a few sons were married to princesses or nobles in other kingdoms. Whatever formalities they'd been taught when trying to find their own place away from home, Hans must never have learned.
Anna's hand went back to playing with a braid, twirling it around and pulling on the end. She stared out the window into the burning summer mid-day. The sun shone bright and big in the sky in a way that made Elsa feel slightly sick. The heat always made her feel like she was melting, but Anna couldn't get enough of the daylight.
"You should go out," Elsa suggested. "Get your mind off all this."
Anna tore her gaze from the window, like she'd been caught doing something she wasn't supposed to. "No, no, I'm fine. I don't mind-"
"Anna," Elsa said firmly, cocking her head slightly in her sister's direction. "You look like you're serving a prison sentence. Go enjoy yourself."
The younger woman looked out the window again, longing to leave, but hesitant. "I don't want to leave you inside. I know you don't like the sun, and it's the middle of tea, and I-"
"Go find Kristoff, tell him to get Sven, and have a horse race. Queen's orders," Elsa said, a smile finally cracking through her surface.
As if her sister's smile had given her more freedom than her words, Anna smiled even brighter, bringing more color to her rosy cheeks. She jumped from her seat, nearly knocking a teacup over in her haste.
"Thanks, Elsa!" she said, prancing over and reaching out, but stopping halfway to Elsa, arms outstretched in an unfinished hug. "Oh, I, uh... can I- is it okay..?"
Elsa smiled again. "Hug?"
Anna bit her lip and shrugged. "Well, if you insist. You said it, not me." But she rushed at Elsa and held her in a tight embrace that felt constricting, but comfortable.
Anna seemed to be the only thing that could make Elsa smile or feel comfortable. She'd always been the most important thing in Elsa's life, but now that Anna knew her as she was and was still willing to crush her in hugs like these, Elsa knew that her heart was there, because it was filled up with love.
All too soon, Anna jumped back up and waved as she called out, "Goodbye! Thanks again!" and left the room.
The parlor became much drearier when the ray of sunshine returned to her natural environment. Elsa was left with a sticky-hot room and a cup full of tea flavored ice.
Elsa rose from her seat and wandered the room aimlessly, trying to think of nothing. She thought about how wonderful it would be to have no subject on the mind, just aimless fancies. Unfortunately, not even the queen could afford luxuries like that.
Her feet stopped in front of the fireplace. It wasn't lit, didn't even have logs in it. The thought of a fire made her skin crawl. More heat was the last thing she wanted. Without thinking, she held her palm out and let a blast of ice fill the stone interior. She watched the snowflakes drift from the top of the fireplace to the bottom, falling like pure white ash. In an instant, she felt better, watching her snow fall.
Ever since she'd been exposed as the snow queen, she'd gained at least one thing besides Anna. She gained a love for what she could do. It had the potential to be dangerous, to be uncontrollable and a danger to everyone she loved. But it was still beautiful. She'd built a castle with the ice, made snow fall in July, and even created life with the love and happiness she poured into her creation.
Elsa looked at her hands, turning them over as she stared. She'd viewed her powers as a curse ever since she began to hide it. But after all these years, she might have been wrong. It was as that troll had said so many years ago, her gift was a great beauty, but had the capability to be incredibly dangerous. If she was in control of it, she could creates wonders that others would only dream of.
She turned from the fireplace that had stopped snowing, and looked out at the hot room. Outstretching her arms, Elsa let snow and ice jet from her fingertips. A blast of icy wind knocked a few hairs out of place, but she didn't mind. Crystals of ice and dainty snowflakes fell from the ceiling and began to coat their tea and sandwiches.
It made Elsa feel giddy. Spending time with Anna to make up for the lost years was priceless, but time alone still felt like a huge, refreshing sigh. Alone time meant she could make it snow in the parlor and enjoy her own personal show.
Watching the snow fall into her hair and on her clothes made Elsa feel calmer, more in control. She'd caused this miniature storm, and her hands were capable in holding it steady. No flurries, no vortexes of polar air, no icy apocalypse. Just a queen and the work of her own two hands.
The power made her feel indestructible, if only for a few moments. Nothing could hurt her, nothing was more powerful and more in control than she was. Under this impression, the snow queen decided that rather than have the comfort of being alone, she'd call on the prisoner a second time. She was strong now, she could take any bad thing he threw at her. If he so much as made her feel even slightly insecure, her hands would be bare and perfect for freezing his lips together. Besides, Anna still wanted answers. Elsa could see that in her sister's eyes. And if Anna was happy, Elsa would be happy, no matter how much pain she might go through to get that happiness.
So Queen Elsa left her wintery oasis and left her gloves behind, setting out to find the answers that Anna still hadn't received.
The courage Elsa had felt in the parlor seemed to suddenly melt away in the depths of the prison.
The halls were darker than the world above and still hot, though not quite as hot as yesterday. Which was strange, since the day before hadn't been as warm. The stone walls partnered with the solid wooden doors to keep the few inmates from escaping.
Elsa was dressed in a gown with sleeves cut just below her elbow and a neckline that gave her skin room to breathe. She was beginning to wonder if she should have grabbed her gloves after all. With each step, she doubted why she would ever think to come down a second time. It was obvious she wasn't going to get answers from him without somehow emotionally collapsing.
If only you could be a little stronger, her inner voice chided. If only you didn't snap and break at the slightest provocation.
"Enough," she mumbled to herself, fists clenched as a thin line of ice trailed behind her. "I'm in control. I am strong. I'm the queen of Arendelle, and this man is going to tell me why he's here and why he needs a boat."
Not a moment later, the cell came into sight, complete with the two guards Elsa had set on duty. She informed them that she would have a few minutes alone with the prisoner. Her men looked wary, obviously having caught rumors of what occurred the previous day with the solid blocks of ice encasing her fists. But neither were going to be the person who said no to the queen, and they let her pass.
The cell was higher in temperature than the rest of the jail, just like before, though it was more tolerable than the blistering heat of yesterday. Elsa would have to call on some people to figure out the strange heat of her castle. The man stared out the window, only turning when the door closed behind them.
Hans looked just as bedraggled as before, and had rolled his sleeves up on crossed arms. His eyebrows were raised in interest, then in surprise as he saw his visitor was once again the queen.
Elsa stopped a few steps into the small room. Seeing him again reminded her of the disastrous confrontation of yesterday. No, she wouldn't lose herself this time. Hands tensed, she mentally chanted that she was in control.
"Queen Elsa?" Hans asked, dropping his crossed arms. "Perhaps you've changed your mind about the ship?"
"Perhaps not," Elsa responded. Her eyes had remained on his hands, however. Specifically, his gloved hands. His sleeves were rolled back to cool his arms, no doubt, but Elsa thought that hands might get even hotter with gloves on...
Hans might have seen her staring or not, but pulled his hands behind his back anyway, giving Elsa no choice but to look elsewhere. She chose his face.
"Then to what do I owe the honor?" Hans asked, eyebrows set firmly back in place after the initial surprise. "I thought I drove the queen away when I caused her to freeze her own hands solid."
The memory made Elsa's fingers prickle with tiny ice shards, but it was nothing she couldn't handle.
"Then you thought wrong," Elsa said haughtily. "Unfortunately for you, the love for my sister outweighs my hatred for you. I still haven't gotten an answer."
"An answer?" he asked, one red eyebrow raising again.
"Multiple answers, actually. I want to know why you're here and why you need a ship. I want the truth, do you understand? Your lies may have worked in the past, but now you're not a stand-in leader. You're a miserable man trapped in a prison."
Hans squinted, as if trying to read the words as Elsa said them.
"And if I don't tell the truth?" he asked after a moment.
"I'll know," Elsa bluffed. She held her hands up and sprayed a thin mist of snow into the air. "And this time, the gloves aren't here to muffle me."
Hans stared at the snowflakes as they drifted down, catching on his coat in a desperate attempt to return it to its former white, but they melted (did Elsa hear them sizzle?) as soon as they came into contact with him. After multiple seconds of watching, Hans actually... smiled. His lips curled up in a way that wasn't all innocent, but wasn't all guilty either.
"At the risk of another snowstorm, I'll give you your answers. Though you might find a few hard to believe," he said, taking a seat on his bench.
There were no words for far too long. Elsa stood tall, looking the exact picture of control and power while feeling more anxious with every passing moment that was left in silence. Hans didn't move at all. He had been staring down at his boots for minutes without any beginnings of an explanation. Elsa couldn't take it any longer.
"Whenever you're ready," she said coolly.
He finally showed some sign of life, moving his head slightly upwards so that his eyes could meet hers.
"You were the firstborn child," he stated. "Since birth, your name has been placed on the crown. You were always trained to act like a queen, because one day, you would assume the throne."
Elsa blinked, losing an unspoken staring contest. "I'm sorry, what does this have to do with you stealing a boat?"
"If you'd be so kind, your highness," Hans continued, gaze never leaving hers. "But I don't think you could understand what I've been through."
Something began to surge through Elsa. What was it? It wasn't anger, wasn't shock. No, it was something that called her to answer his challenge.
"Are you saying that your life is in some way tougher than mine?" she asked, feeling her fingers grow cold.
"Yes," he said bluntly. His simpleness hit Elsa in a way that should have made her begin to rant about her life, about how trying to conceal and not feel, about how she lived in constant doubt and fear every moment of every day and night.
But she didn't. This challenge didn't rouse her in the same way it might have for Anna. She looked into those green, unblinking eyes, and saw something almost pleading.
"All right," she said. "Continue. Your troubled life won't be accepted unless you have proof."
He cocked his head, just slightly. A grin reached half his mouth, bringing an overgrown sideburn up with it. Hans leaned forward, elbows rested on knees and head held high.
"Imagine being Anna," he began. "The younger child who watched their older sibling go through life, always told that one day, they'd be a great ruler. Taught all the things a monarch should know to be fair and just. Now, imagine if there were twelve Elsas and only one little Anna. One little Anna who would never sit on the throne, who would wear the smaller, less decorated crown. Who'd always be less special than the older sibling. Doomed to being the spare."
Elsa had begun to panic just a little bit, his words contouring up a sad, helpless little Anna, but she controlled her imagination. A small pinch on her hand had helped. Anna wasn't in danger. Anna didn't think bad of her.
"I was Anna," Hans said, voice strong and echoing just slightly. "I was born thirteenth in the royal family of the Southern Isles. From the moment I arrived, everyone had already been there and done that, and my oldest brother was married off. It would have been more odd if I was celebrated.
"My mother was the queen, and still is. She was... busy. Very busy, all her life. It's all papers and meetings and signatures, and caring for yet another baby boy was not a priority. Besides, no one ever thought the number thirteen was a very lucky one. Nobody wanted the unlucky thirteen around for very long."
Elsa listened, prepared not to feel a thing for this wannabe murderer's sob story, but somehow feeling a twinge of empathy. He hadn't been the only one with a distant monarch as a parent.
"I was left in the care of my brothers for most of my childhood. Of course, I was nursed for long enough to walk and talk. And then I was the sport. Everyone pounces on easy prey. The thirteenth child, the mistake that made a perfect balance of twelve screwed up.
"And of course, they'd exploit me. Sell me out as some kind of court jester, until the only family member who really cared was my dad, and insisted that-" Hans stepped dead in his tracks, those green eyes dilating as if he was staring directly into the sun.
"Insisted what?" Elsa prompted, now more curious than ever.
"That... that... it's not relevant," he said hurriedly, making Elsa more curious than ever.
He took a very deep sigh, exhaling for what seemed like years. "I just need a ship. I need a ship so that I can sail away from here. Especially the Southern Isles. I can't ever go back there. Not after living with them for years, for spending all my life trapped in those cages of islands. I'll become king of somewhere new. A king that is trusted by his people and has ultimate power."
Hans' fist was clenched, and Elsa could hear the leather crack slightly. He didn't speak again, and she assumed he had finished the story, which raised a few more questions and successfully answered nothing.
"How did you get back here?" she asked.
"I escaped the ship," he answered.
"So why did it never dock in Westernland or the Southern Isles?"
"I couldn't say."
"Are you lying?"
"Withholding truth is more like it."
Elsa narrowed her eyes, squinting as if Hans' secrets might be spelled out across his face if she looked hard enough.
"You ask me to trust you and give you a boat, and yet you still withhold truth," she said. She'd heard enough to piece together and give to Anna. She couldn't stand the heat in the room anymore.
"You'll consider my ship though?" he asked as she rose from her seat.
She paused, finding herself in a situation that mirrored yesterday's. "No. However, thank you for a slight explanation of why you're here. The princess will love to hear it."
Before Elsa left the room, she turned once more to him, his eyebrows so far down that you could hardly see those green, unblinking eyes. His anger almost offset her last comment, but she spoke anyway.
"Your comparability to Anna doesn't work," she said, one hand on the door. "Only one of your many brothers will get the throne. You're not the only one who's destined to be the spare."
He growled, and Elsa swore she saw smoke in the room. The heat was making her hallucinate, apparently. "I told you, you'd never understand."
She didn't feed the dragon any more, and stepped into a wave of cool air in the hallway.
She thanked the guards, more confident than she was yesterday. Her bare hands hadn't done much more than add a thin layer of frost across her skin. His words hadn't bitten at her today, they were mostly biting at himself. His story was interesting, of course, but didn't change Elsa's mind about the boat. There were wonderful people who dealt with their problems in better ways than killing, stealing, and manipulating. Nothing he could say ever excused his actions.
As the sound of her footsteps resounded through the halls, Elsa decided she'd tell Hans' story to Anna, then leave his fate to her and Ingvalda. Surely Anna's idea of justice would taste sweeter than anything Elsa could think of. She'd also rather not pay any thought to him again.
Queen Elsa intended to never see Hans again.
It was an intention that, of course, was never achieved.
Thanks to all who have already followed, reviewed, and/or favorited, it's great to know my little tale's peaked interests already!
I think the schedule is going to be a new chapter each Monday, might as well make the beginning of the week worth something. That work for everyone? Until next week!