Queen Elsa of Arrendale sat quietly in her room, shivering. It was terribly ironic that the one person who was immune to extreme freeze was trembling. It had nothing to do with the temperature, and everything to do with that morning's meeting.
Hans is free.
No matter what she did to go to sleep; counting sheep, drinking warm milk, doing paperwork, that phrase just kept on repeating in her head.
Hans is free. Hans is free. Hans is free. Hans is free. Hans is free. Hans is free. Hans is free. Hans is free. Hans is free. Hans is free. Hans is free. Hans is free. Hans is free. Hans is free. Hans is free. Hans is free. Hans is free. Hans is free.
It was irrational of her to sit in her bed, exhausted, and think about it, yet here she was, quivering like a little girl worried about the monster in her closet. (And she hadn't even worried about monsters in the closet when she was young.)
Chances were that Hans was dead in some ill-fated attempt to escape prison. And, even if he was alive, it would be the height of arrogance for him to return to Arrendale; a place where everyone but small children would recognize him on sight, and attack. And there was always a chance this whole thing was just a misunderstanding.
But Elsa knew in her heart Hans was coming for her.
Every gust of wind, every squeak of wood was him getting closer and closer, and closer.
Hans is coming, Hans is coming, Hans is coming, Hans is coming, Hans is coming, Hans is coming, Hans is coming.
Now that she actually had to deal with the idea that he may be returning, Elsa found herself rating her fears, which, in turn, kept her awake. Obviously she was afraid of losing control again, or of dying, or losing her friends. But Hans, in a way, represented all of these things.
He was smart, tenacious and vindictive. If he were on her side, she wouldn't have anything to fear. For a second, she allowed the fantasy that maybe he would be reasonable, and she could talk to him. Then the queen dismissed this notion; Hans was angry, and he was coming.
The door to her bedroom creaked open. A form headed right to her bed. Elsa had turned the temperature way, way down in the room. Even the maids had fled when it started snowing.
The young queen waited until the soft crunch of snow was almost to her bed before bolted up, arms in defense.
"NOOOO!" She was breathing heavily.
...nothing happened. Elsa peered through her arms to find Prince looking befuddled at her. He let out a whine.
"Oh... sorry boy. I thought you were that evil Hans...!"
...
He turned to leave. She bit her lip, "...wait!"
He stopped.
She felt like a little girl asking for help. But... she needed it, "Prince?"
He responded to his name turning his head to her.
"Could you... stay?" She asked in a small voice. For a second, he stood there, warm breath flying into the snow. Then he turned back to her bed, and curled up at the foot. She listened for the steady breathing of a sleeper.
"...Prince?" Two golden eyes popped up at the edge of her bed.
"Um... could you...?" She rolled her eyes, feeling silly for talking to a dog, "Here boy!" She patted the bed. He looked at her quizzickly.
She patted a space on the queen-sized (a.n. Oooooh! Is that where it comes from?) bed.
"...please?"
The dog huffed (irritably? she wondered) before hopping up beside her. She ran her cold fingers through his warm fur. It was so soft and comforting. She felt much better with him nearby.
Elsa stayed up, talking through her fears with the dog. He listened intently, making her desire (more than ever) that he were a real man who would say something to make her feel better.
Her fingers found the lock on his collar. Who would take such a beautiful beast, dress him so nicely, then turn him evil?
Hans.
She was angry now. He didn't just hurt her family, he hurt her Prince. If it wasn't for him, this beautiful dog would have had a wonderful life in a palace, loved and adored. Instead he had been shot, and beat up. Plus, if the report was right, booted out a window and half-drowned before landing in an abused home.
It was getting late, so she rolled onto the side nearest Prince, and shut her eyes. Seeing she was tense, Hans positioned himself protectively between her and the more open parts of the room.
"You know..." Elsa said as she nodded off to sleep, "I would give anything to know what you're thinking right now."
And I, thought Hans would give anything for you.
He curled his tail angrily. People were using him to hurt her. This, he vowed, would not be allowed.
A.N. There, happy? Helsa! Also, I am almost done with the sequel, which is so full of unhappiness that I may just redo the whole thing! :/ please r and r, it makes me all warm on the inside!