Sorry for the long absence, but I've been really busy... Also, this is shorter than I intended it to be, but I've been struggling with this for a while..
Thanks again for all the feedback!
Disclaimer: I do not own anything.
There are flashes of green and gold and red and purple and blue and dresses twirling and boots clacking and Anna does not remember which tune every violin and cello sang along to on that day, but it does not matter, because all she can see is him. Suddenly, her eyes feel inexplicably dry, but she does not want to blink. The irrational fear that Hans will disappear, like a gust of wind or a word on the tip of a tongue burns through her mind and she wants nothing more than to look closer, but she is rooted to the spot. She refuses to turn away.
Her heart skips yet another beat and picks up again, pounding erratically against her ribcage. The world is unrelenting, and she feels dizzy from everything that is happening around her. Hans does not notice her, and he pulls out a pocketwatch from his coat and makes to leave.
There is something sad in his expression, and Anna has absolutely no doubt that she put it there. There is a fleeting moment of vague self-loathing before she realizes he is halfway across the hall, weaving expertly throughout the crowd to make for the door. Anna promptly unfreezes and makes her way through with more hastiness but no less skill, and by the time she reaches the opened heavy oaken doors, his silhouette is outlined behind the waters of the stone fountain.
"Wait!" Anna's voice rings desperately throughout the empty, chilly courtyard. The night leaves prickles of goosebumps on her skin, but she does not falter. Hans stumbles over a cobblestone, and he turns around abruptly, his hood drawn up over his head, his blue eyes pale and sharp in the moonlight.
Hans raises the hem of his midnight blue hood and pushes it back. His hair looks crimson in the moonlight, and the minute grey reminds her of her own platinum blonde streak that no longer exists, gone with the rising sun, along with the galloping of a cream horse and sweet, sweet roses. His eyebrows are furrowed, and Anna still remembers the malice that once distorted his handsome face. At least it was not ever genuine. It was real, it was there, but Anna knows it is not his fault.
"Anna?" Hans's voice is hoarse, so unlike the smooth glide of his words in the bright hall, and Anna wonders if this is another metaphor. If everything looks worse at night, when the darkness creeps in slowly and you can feel monsters and shadows behind you. Anna agrees.
It seems fitting that those would be the words they say to each other first, like one of the only things she knows about him. She wishes she could have gotten to know the name of his horse, his favorite fruits, whether he liked marmalade or butter on his toast. It's too late for all of that now, but his name will be the one unfaltering thing.
The silence rings, not awkward, but oppressing, like Atlas holding up the sky and Anna wants to buckle under its weight. Hans does not, and he seems so tired, like the burden is familiar to him, and he stays strong under it with resignation but the knowledge that if he lets go, he will be crushed. He rubs a grey gloved hand over his face. "I meant what I said that day. And for what it matters... I am sorry. If you didn't know."
Anna smiles, but it hurts more than anything. "I know." Her voice hurts, and her hesitation feels like a lump in her throat.
"You know... what you did that day... it wasn't your fault, you know."
His laugh is bitter. "I know. Who would believe the disgraced, unneeded prince?" he spreads his arms. "Jealousy- what a pity, he seemed like such a nice young man. It's okay, we have- oh wait, twelve more."
Anna's heart aches so badly. "It was my fault. Do you remember the tale of Arendelle's trolls?"
Hans does not respond, so Anna carries on. "They-they wanted me to be with someone else. And I guess- I guess they aren't quite as harmless as the little, mossy boulders they look like. Hans- I just- I'm sorry." Everything seems inadequate in the light of this, and Anna wishes there was something that could express everything she feels at this very moment.
Hans is completely still. The silence threatens to crush her again, and finally, he sighs. The soft exhale seems like a booming shout, and it manages to voice everything better than words ever could. "I don't think I could blame you, if I wanted to." His blue eyes look indigo in the moonlight, and they bear an unimaginable age in them. Anna wants so desperately to be the one that causes the laugh lines around his eyes, so she can take all of that away, make him seem less weary.
He takes two steps towards her, and she reaches out. He cradles it in his palm, before gently letting it go. "I'm staying at the inn, on the edge of town, and I leave before the sun rises tomorrow."
The swish of his cloak seems as loud as the slamming of metal doors in this instance, and the silence is chased away. Anna is left with a empty chest and a mind full of regrets. He turns around once, just as he reaches the edges of the palace walls. His words are nearly stolen by the wind, but Anna's ears are sharp. That has not changed, either.
"I love you, you know."
His hair glimmers crimson in the moonlight, like the roses in the forest, so unlike the snowy white roses on Elsa's windowsill.
This time, she watches him go, and his figure gets further away until he is another speck of dust in a swirling, ancient room, full of cobwebs and all undesirable things.