He's found her. At last. She's lying under a thin layer of frosted snow.
"Elsa..." he breathes, rushing toward her as fast as his legs can take him.
In a matter of a few seconds, he's kneeling beside her, his whole body weak from the long distance he's covered to find her. He slowly brushes the snow away from her tiny frame. He gently approaches his bare hands of her face, both having taken a light shade of blue from the striking cold out there. Yet he is reluctant to touch her, even if he cannot see what harm he could cause. He finally brings his fingers behind her neck, cupping her ear, and slowly lifts her up as he leans closer. He stops when he's hovering over her mere centimeters away and sighs in relief when he feels her breath on the skin of his cheek. Two of his fingers press right under her jawline, and he can't repress the bliss that invades him when he catches her pulse.
She's alive.
He could remain staying her forever in her company, alone in the snow, but he's well aware he has to bring her back to the realm she has to run everyday. She's not a mere woman of the village, no. She's a young monarch who has more duties he will ever have. She's a Queen.
Moreover, his reputation in Arendelle is bad enough, he doesn't need people suspecting him to have kidnapped their Queen or run away with her. And he deosn't want them to believe their ruler has fled again. And what for ?
No, the people would throw him away from the kingdom and forbid him to approach the two sisters ever again, slaughter him had he been even returning. And her to-be-husband, of all people ! He would obviously kill him.
He shakes his head to dismiss the thought of him being accused of something he - for once - hasn't done.
He cautiously lays her head over his shoulder and pulls her in closer to him, his arms wrapped tightly around her waist. Placing one hand around her shoulders and the other under her knees, he hesitates to lift her up, afraid of somehow hurting her again. Yet he knows he cannot stay here forever, so he finally lifts her in his arms, keeping her upper body on check.
"Sitron !" the silent void his brain has been stuck in is now broken by the the hoarse sound of his voice, just like the silence. "Come here buddy !" he calls into the growing blizzard.
Is she causing this ?
He doesn't even have to wait before he's able to hear his faithful friend arrive. Neighing joyfully, he rubbed his head against Hans' shirt, gently shoving him forward.
"Yeah, good boy Sitron... uh..." he stuttered, trying his best not to lose his balance.
Elsa wouldn't be fond of ending up her nose buried in the snow again...
Supporting her the best he can, he manages to mount on his horse, sitting her delicately onto his lap.
He's already seen that before.
"Prince Hans ! Are you certain you really want to do this ?"
"I said no harm was to be done to her, and I thought I was clear !" he yells at the man, his gaze threatening. "It seems I wasn't..." he mutters, calmer.
Both of the Duke of Weselton's men look down, surely cursing themselves for their foolishness.
Hans' gaze softens when he looks down at the frail womansitting on his lap. He can't come to recall having ever seen anything more beautiful than her one day in his life. Perhaps it is because she's the most graceful and gorgeous thing he's ever got the chance to lay his eyes on.
"They wanted to kill you, dear Elsa..." he whispers into her ear, taking care not to let anyone hear this.
It could bring him onto trouble. And he doesn't need that.
She's not dead. That's what's relieving.
"Faster, Sitron." he orders, gently kicking his companion's sides when the castle finally comes in sight. "We're almost there." he mumbles, sparing a last glance at the woman he's just saved the life of.
She still looks as gorgeous as she had on this day, when he's carried her back to Arendelle, months ago. Yet something is different. That ring, it's like it has changed her whole appearance, albeit it's mostly hidden all the time by the gloves she used to wear when feeling insecure. Now nothing's the same, he can feel his grasp on her loosening and she's getting out of reach forever, although he's never held her this close, because she's nobody's but herself's. And soon to be Prince Navi's. It disgusts him.
That ring has nothing to do around her finger.
He frowns.
How long has she known him for ? he questions the heavens seeking for an answer. I though she was no woman to marry somebody she just - or didn't - met.
Silence.
Of course nobody here would reply.
It means—
An arrow shot righ to his chest would have the same effect. His gaze falls on her again, this so innocent yet so intelligent creature.
What have I done ?
As his horse keeps a slow pace, his fingers leave the riens to come to brush her cheek. The cold is striking.
He's never despised royalty and their stupid rules this much in his life. Not even when they decided so harshly of his fate.
Is it such a terrible fate ? To be stuck in the Snow Queen's palace ? He can't even tell now. But her fate...
"What do you think of this, Sitron ?" he questions the one who's always replaced all the human friends he could've had during his childhood. " Should we really go back ?"