"What have you two been talking about ?"
He jolts upward at the sound of her melodious yet so inquisitive voice.
It has been hours he has been sleeping in the stables, laying still in the hay in Sitron's stall he has cleaned up after his ride back home with the Queen.
Her stare is cold as she is standing there in front of the stall, her hands on her hips. It can only mean she wants answers. More like demandssome. And he wouldn't be the one to disobey her, albeit he does not know what he's supposed to tell her and what is to be kept a secret.
She sighs before his blatant lack of cooperation.
"He's forbidden you to come too close to me for his liking, hasn't he ?" she states blankly, clear-sighted. "He wants you to keep your distances, right ?"
He gulps. She knows her to-be-husband better than he can see through her.
"He—he did, yes." he stutters, taken aback by her sudden remarks while he stands up and exits the stall, not daring to turn his back on her, and finds himself mere inches away from her. "He is kind of... overprotective, if I may say—"
"He is possessive. That's a completely different matter." she cuts him off sharply, taking a step forward.
She is not one to be claimed like an object. He knows it far too well.
She longs for freedom. She craves for it.
The feeling of loyalty and honesty he thinks he owes her catches him off guard.
He cannot keep his promise.
"Is it true that I will be sent back to the Southern Isles after the weeding ?" he unsurely dares to ask her, studying her closely as he continues, "Because... that's what he told me, though I fear I don't understand why he wants me to attend to your wedding."
"He doesn't want to." comes the flat answer, as simple as it is.
His brows furrow until they seem to form a single line.
"Then why on earth do I have to witness it ?" he inquires, his voice higher than he ever intented to make it sound.
"I just didn't want you thrown away overnight like a piece of shit." she answers, her calmness still odd to him.
She doesn't even seem to get mad at him shouting. She did this for him. Yet he knows not whether he'd rather be thrown into a ship cell and sail back to his kingdom without anyone noticing it or have to watch Elsa getting married to someone whe does not wish to spend any more time than needed with. A man she seems to loathe more than anyone else. Even more than him.
She looks utterly exhausted, and he assumes she is. Dealing with that asshole of her to-be-husband all day to convince him not to get rid of her could-have-been-murderer - that's what he is, isn't he ? - musn't be easy, especially with thatman as her future husband, and himas her almost murderer.
He can't even say wether he is grateful for her fighting for him or not. Yet anywhere would be a better place to be than the Southern Isles.
From now on he knows he won't be living for long. But it isn't her business, she's not even aware of it the slightest. His best chance to remain alive would have been tobe thrown away overnight like a piece of shit.
On the other hand, having to live a lifetime far away from this kingdom he has grown to love, to feel like it is his own place he has finally found, far away from her without ever being able to come back or see her again is a fate worse than death.
Cerulean blue sparkling eyes, flawless alabaster skin, delicate scandinavian features, light rosy cheeks, platinum blonde locks, a slender figure, tiny frame making it hard for anyone to think about anything but her when she's standing nearby.
And that jerk will get all of this. All of her.
(Is a lifetime devoid of you worth living ?)
He hopes that Prince realizes the chance he'll be getting to lay his eyes on such a pure beauty for every remaining day of his life. To wake up beside her, the first thing he'll land his gaze upon each single morning, a gorgeous woman, powerful and regal, who won't have a choice but to stay by his side.
"So I have to see you getting married to him." he concludes, his head hung low as he fidgets with his fingers.
"You don't know what is worse, do you ? I know what it is to be torn apart between physical or psychological pain. Physical pain leaves marks on one's body, and we all know they fade away sooner or later, at least the pain subsides. However, psychological pain often lasts way longer. Scars are deeper, eating our soul bit by bit." she pauses and glances straight into his eyes. "I just couldn't bear the thought of him treating you so badly."
Confusion follows the confession.
"Why ?"
She sighs. And Hans doesn't know what to expect. He can just hope she's not suffering like he undeniably is, although he does not wish to admit it. How can he explain he has grown so much accustomed to her presence, working for her, even in such a short amount of time ? An amount of time not significant enough to justify his obvious need of remaining side by side with her, a need of redemption he craves for. Well, not supposed to be.
"He doesn't have the right to treat people down. That's not what a King is supposed to do."
Yet the word still sends his head spinning. He could have been the one with the heavy Crown on his head. But the price... It wasn't worth it. Now he can say it, having taken a step back to get a proper analysis of the situation he has found himself in months ago.
It could have been so much better for the both of them, if only he had played his cards right. Whenever in her presence, he always feels glad his initial plans thwarted. But he can't uppress a hint of disappointment over himself for not having been able to woo her instead of trying to cut her head off her shoulders.
"Do things truly have to go that way ?" comes a question his lips burned to ask but that he didn't want to blurt out though.
Yet he just did it. And he wonders why he does always have to feel this conflicted about his emotions and his feelings.
Better leaving or staying ? Talking or keeping quiet ? Saying the truth of lying ? Is it care or jealousy ? Worry or over protectiveness ? Love or hate ? Friends or ennemies ?
"It does, Hans." she says sharply. "There is no way we can change our fate now. It is way too late to fix anything."
He's not the only one who doesn't want things to end up that way albeit they do not want the same things either.
"Well, if that is all you wanted to know, I'd be glad if you excused me, Your Grace. his voice his slow, and he bows formerly at her.
With that, he walks past her and leaves her alone in the stables, not even daring to look back at the one he would have loved to know better.
One chapter left. I know. But I may write some sort of one or two shots later, if any of you is interested, that is.
Hope you enjoyed it anyway.