AN: Well, this one took a little bit longer than I expected also LOL SO MANY MINOR CHARACTERS ARE DYING LMAO I shouldn't be laughing I am a terrible person. XD I'd like to thank my readers and reviewers and those of you who are following this fic. I love you all. As for everyone else: Um, read, review, please?

Disclaimer: I don't own Frozen, or work for Disney. This is a not for profit fanwork. Thank you for reading.


Elsa left Hans to stew in his own thoughts in the dungeon for the rest of the day, and the night, and then the day after that. They were supposed to be planning the wedding, but it didn't seem like that was going to happen any time soon. Despite what the Dowager insisted when she discovered Elsa locked up her betrothed on suspicion of murder.

She had lied. His brothers' bodies hadn't been shipped out; instead, they were being embalmed by the finest morticians in Arendelle. No reason to send home smelling corpses, was there?

Anna found herself being confined away from her sister more and more, as Elsa was worried Hans, or even one of his brothers, would try something. The prince was locked up tightly either way, so if any other murders occurred, it would be a sure sign of innocence. Good luck for Hans but bad luck for the rest of the castle.

Regardless, Jekaterina wheedled her way into getting Elsa to visit her son down in the cold dungeon. It was summer, but still, water froze quickly in the dark cold cell. Hans' more royal garb had been taken from him and searched for any sign of blood or evidence. None of which was found. Instead, he was wearing a moderately soft blue cotton shift with sleeves that left most of his arms bare and thin trousers that came up three inches too short. His boots and socks had been taken from him, and he was left to the cold that way, barefoot.

Hans was shivering, hands gripping the bars of the room that held him captive. The fingertips were still blue, and his face, as well as the rest of his exposed flesh, was flushed from the cold, except for where his cheek was marred by the badly healing scrapes. There it was puffy and a burning dark red. Definitely infected. Not only that, but his lips were cracked and dried, or was it frozen, blood had dribbled down his chin; He looked a mess and most definitely felt it.

"Are you here to rub my misery in my face, Elsa?" He managed to croak out, in a voice hoarse from screaming to garner attention from the guards stationed outside.

"Your mother actually wished for me to check on you." She crouched to be at eye level with him. "I believe she thinks you'll confess if I visited you and spoke to you face to face."

A sound erupted from Hans' mouth that took Elsa a second to realize was laughter. "She thinks I will confess?" he shook his head. "Ridiculous. She has to know I didn't kill my siblings. What kind of monster would permanently incapacitate their family?" Hans looked pointedly at Elsa, implying it was a jab at her and Anna.

"I was going to release you, but I don't think I will now." That horrid noise occurred again.

"Leave me alone then. I have some wonderful thoughts to keep me warm. Like getting a kiss from a beautiful girl right before I'm put to death." He glanced at Elsa out of the corner of his eye. "No chance of that happening, right?"

Elsa looked down at the rough cobblestone floor. "No one is even considering death as an option for you. But I'm glad you're considering it yourself." She stood up.

Hans made a grab for her taupe skirt and held on with bitter strength. "There's going to be more murders, and more of my family is going to die, and I'll be in this damned cage and you'll be out of a suspect. I hope you realize that."

Elsa literally kicked his wrist away, aiming for his frost bitten fingers. He yelled, voice strained, and clutched at his wounded hand with his other. "My guards will be more than capable of handling it."

Speaking of guards, one of the sprightlier ones just ran into the room. "My queen, there's been another murder. This one looks far too fresh to be anything but new."

Hans tilted his head back, and maintained eye contact as if to say I told you so, and leaned back against the flat slat of cot he had as a bed.

Elsa, of course, went to the body along with the guard, leaving Hans to rot in that cell. One of the bodies she recognized more than the other. "Kai.. Oh no.." The other body she knew as Hans' older brother, Karstjen or whatever his name was. Elsa stood, turning away from them to fight the roiling tide of nausea that struck her. "Move the bodies. I don't want my sister or her husband seeing them." The guards would take care of it, she knew they would.

So it was time for her to visit her least favorite person once more. He was right, after all.

"You didn't kill your brothers, but that doesn't mean you aren't guilty of anything else. I believe you know who did it, and so from now on, you're under house arrest until you tell me. Do you understand? You are not to leave the castle grounds unless accompanied by several guards."

"Right. And I suspect you'll want me to be as close to you as possible without making the beast with two backs, am I right on the nose?"

Elsa's face flushed in the cool darkness of the dungeon. "Don't be obscene. You know as well as I do, I only trust you about as much as I can throw you."

"I don't know, Elsa, you could throw me far enough if you tried."

"I am your queen and you will address me as such." She muttered, embarrassed.

"Of course, my queen. My dove. Light of my life." Oh, now he was just messing with her.

"Shut up or I'll have your tongue cut off next."

Hans easily met her gaze, unflinching. "I'd rather it be my hands. They ache something terrible." He wrung them, rubbing the cyanotic flesh with his fingertips. "Perhaps you should release me from this cell. Or maybe you could join me in here. It would be warmer, even if you're the Snow Queen."

Elsa just stared. "Are you attempting to be suave or something?"

Hans waved his hand dismissively. "You'll have to forgive me, my brain is addled from hunger. I've not eaten anything in days. The guards haven't even brought water."

She looked to the bowl and tray beside the cell door. "What's this?"

"Rotted scraps of leather and a bowl of ice. They think they are being clever." He snapped, leaning his too-warm face (most likely from fever, Elsa surmised) against the cold bars. "If you're not going to spring me, bring me a haunch of beef and the biggest barrel of wine you have. I'd rather be drunk and cold in your company than sober and cold."

She unlocked the cell door anyway, ignoring his jibes. "Are you sure you haven't taken ill?"

"We from the Southern Isles are made of stronger stuff." Hans replied proudly, before wobbling out of the cell, barely able to stand upright let alone walk unassisted.

"Give me your arm." When Hans did not obey, Elsa took his arm and slung it over her shoulder, helping him to walk. The Queen didn't trust any servant to help him, since the whole castle knew he was a traitor and wouldn't think twice before sticking a knife between his ribs. Elsa needed him alive, to help solve this damned mystery. He was too ill to attempt to hurt her anyway.

She got a good look at the frostbite he had on his ear. Being exposed to the cold like that had turned the blue to a dull lifeless black. "This would be the best time to tell me how you really got those scratches on your face. It's infected, and to treat it, they need to know what could have gotten into it."

Hans just shook his head, too exhausted and completely drained to walk and talk at the same time. "You don't want to know."

Elsa stopped, turning to look at him. "Why not?"

"My mother—" He grimaced and nearly collapsed, unable to say anymore.

Elsa had to hoist him upright, hands under his arms. Hans was burning up, and upon closer inspection, under all the dirt and grime of being in that cell, and the five o clock shadow, was angry red streaks leading from his wound down his flesh. The infection was spreading. She couldn't carry him without help, his dead weight was too heavy.

"Guards! Somebody!" Elsa yelled, voice cracking just a little as she attempted to carry Hans as best she could. "You need to wake up. Please."

His voice was weak. "The queen is finally begging me for something, hm?" Hans sounded half-delirious, eyelids fluttering.

"I can't carry you, and you'll die if we don't get you treated."

He smirked, only one half of his mouth tilting upward. The other side was puffy and red from the infection coursing through his face, paralyzed from it. "Let me die then. One last loose end to be tied for you." He coughed, spat over his shoulder, and opened one eye. "No more engagement. No more treason to be worried about."

"Damn you, Hans.. Guards! To me!" The person who rushed down the hall to her was not one of her guards. The large bearded redhead bowed shallowly to the queen, before looking his brother over.

"He's ill.."

"I can see that, my queen." He had picked Hans up easily. He looked like a rag doll in his brother's capable arms.

"Thank you.." she couldn't recall his name.

"Hjalmerr."

Oh.

"Thank you, Hjalmerr."

Hans tossed his head to the side, hair sticking to his forehead. "Father?"

Elsa laid her hand against his head, feeling the heat radiate from him like a bonfire. She exhaled, letting frost from her fingertips spread to cool his skin.

"He's delirious. Let's bring him to my chambers. I can treat him if you'll follow me."

They laid him down on her cool bed. Hans let out a sigh, lying there unmoving.

"I can treat him myself." Elsa glanced over her shoulder at Hjalmerr. "You may wait outside the door, if you so choose."

He was worried about his baby brother, she could see it in his face. Despite what Hans has believed, Hjalmerr definitely cared.

"I'll be able to make him better." I hope, went unspoken. Hjalmerr nodded, and shut the door. Elsa locked it as soon as he did, before crossing the room back to her bed. "This is going to hurt." Hans didn't respond, or even stir. She fumbled for a pair of scissors, coming up empty. Instead, she made a sharp icicle knife and cut his shirt open, revealing his shoulder and chest, to where the red streaks had traveled. Once they reached his heart, she knew it was over. Elsa put her shaking hands on his heated flesh. They were ice cold, and Hans started before relaxing again, the freezing sensation pleasant against his fevered skin. She breathed out slowly, concentrating hard to purge the poison from his blood and cool his burning body.

He arched up hard, feet drumming against the bed as steam erupted from his pores. Hans let out a sharp cry of pain, and Hjalmerr had to have heard it, because he started banging on the door and trying to open it, only to find it was locked. Elsa looked at the door, silently hoping it stayed shut before turning her attention back to the man before her. He had stopped writhing and was just lying there, recovering from the intense blood cleansing he had gone through. The worst was over now. She just hoped he'd be well enough to wake again.

Elsa wobbled away from the bed and collapsed, exhausted, into a chair she had placed in front of her fireplace. She must have fallen asleep, because when she awoke, the sun had gone down, and Hans was sleeping. Someone had changed his clothes, and gave him a good washing, and rebandaged his cheek. New bandages covered his hands, where the frostbite had gotten the worst, and his ear, also due to frostbite. He looked particularly pale after that hectic episode, but nonetheless healthy.

She sat up straight, jolting upright, looking to the door. It was open, and no guards were posted. Keeping silent, she crept past the bed. Holding her breath to make sure Hans remained asleep, since she didn't want to deal with him right now, Elsa looked out the hallway. At the end of the hallway, Hans' brother was speaking to Gerda. They turned to see her looking at them.

"Queen Elsa, you're awake." Gerda rushed to her side.

The sound in the doorway caused Hans to stir, as he roused himself to sit, painfully clenching and unclenching his bandaged fingers. The blanket fell to his waist, revealing his pale chest dotted with many many freckles and a few scars from past fights.

"Elsa?" He called out to her.

She turned sharply, not expecting him to be awake. Hjalmerr and Gerda also flew to his bedside. Gerda, of course, was fretting like a mother hen, despite the grief she was going through. Hjalmerr had a cup of water and was tilting it slowly to his lips so his brother could drink.

Elsa stood at the foot of the bed. "I'm glad to see I didn't end up killing you."

"I never thought I'd be glad to wake up in your bed." Hans gave her a weak smirk.

"What a charmer." She replied, the smile that was beginning to show, dropping completely from her lips. "You should be glad you woke up at all."

Hans touched the bandage on his cheek, and then examined the flawless bandaging on his hand. "Did you do all this?"

Elsa shook her head. "I had nothing to do with this."

"It was me. The servants helped." Hjalmerr met his brother's gaze. "I let the Queen rest, after she removed the infection from your blood."

Hans' eyes grew wider and he turned to look at his bride. "I didn't know you could do that."

Elsa raised her hands and let them drop in a shrug. She knew she wouldn't get a thank you, so she steeled herself for a witty response. None came. Hans was too busy hydrating himself, gulping down water fast enough to make himself sick.

"Thank you." That one came from Hjalmerr. "I know he's done wrong to you and yours, but you saved his life. And for that I thank you."

Elsa lifted her head high. "He will be a help in discovering who committed these acts of treason."

Hans inhaled sharply in front of her. "'Takes one to know one', is it?"

She stiffened. "The royal family of Arendelle pardoned you when I accepted our engagement."

He sighed and laid back; "Right."

She watched him close his eyes and feign resting.

Did she really only heal him to stop the murders from occurring? Or was there another motive behind her actions?

Elsa felt her face heating as she finally realized his shirt had been removed, and only bare pale skin remained. What was she doing? Hans was ill, for pity's sake.