AN: Hi guys! I'm back with another update lol. Did you miss me in the few hours since the last update? I just have to say I love where this story is going omg I feel like its going in such unexpected places that all of y'all will be reeling. A friend of mine says she's going to do some illustrations and when she does, I'll put them up so you can see them. I love all my reviewers and the people following my fic. I hope you guys like this update. :3
Disclaimer: I don't own Frozen, I don't work at Disney. This is a not for profit fanwork. Thank you for reading.
When Hans was well enough to actually stand on his own, he still had a limp. Apparently, being down in the cold wet dungeon gave him a bad case of frostbite. The same went for both of his hands. Loss of circulation from the bindings being too tight aggravated it, and he could barely move his fingers. He would probably have had to lose the tips of a few of them, down to the first knuckle was all black and cold. However, his feet weren't going to be lost. He had breathed a sigh of relief when both Gerta and Elsa had examined his feet, along with Niklaus, who had a fair amount of medical knowledge from the Monastery he had learned in.
The prince was also back to his regular slippery self as well. Most of the time, at least. Elsa had come to see him, when he had first begun to really recover. It wasn't so much the recovery that bothered him, so much as the fact that he wasn't allowed to leave the room without either a guard or the Queen herself. Hans secretly didn't hate it as much as he let on, but Elsa didn't realize it. Especially since the Dowager was not allowed to see her son. Hans had begun to resent her for destroying his family.
"Look at this." Hans wriggled his fingers at her. He could actually move them more now, since he'd been out of the cold as much as possible.
"Look at it this way, you have a new appreciation for the number eight." Elsa found a small smile crossing her lips at his misfortune. "You're lucky to be alive."
"I have just enough fingers to count my remaining brothers." Hans spit, clenching his hands into fists.
Elsa sniffed, lifting her head almost condescendingly and looking away, attempting to be impassive, but failing so she wasn't able to meet his gaze. "So you do."
There was also a lock of his hair that had lost all color, becoming white like snow, but other than that and the gouges on his face that were healing into scars, he was far healthier than he'd been in ages. Looking into a hand mirror, he was playing with the one piece that hung in his eyes. "You've just about completely changed the way I look, Elsa."
She was seated beside him, close enough to make sure he wouldn't get into trouble, but just far enough apart from him that she'd be comfortable. Hans, however, looked stricken that she was even near him. The woman had cost him half an ear, two fingers and his good looks, and now he was indebted to her for not killing him, what was it, quite a few times now. And that was just in the past two weeks.
"Are you complaining that I saved your life?" She looked at him, unable to take him seriously. "After everything I've done for you?"
He shifted in his seat, setting down the mirror. "You've turned me into a freak."
"Good." Elsa stood, crossing the room. "Now, do you feel well enough to tell me everything you and your family was planning, as far as you know?"
Hans' expression twisted and he furrowed his brow. "You aren't going to drop that, are you? I've told you all I know!" He slammed his still healing fist down on the arm of his armchair, causing his stitches to split and blood to start staining the bandages. That made him freeze, feeling the sharp pain go up his arm, as he cradled his hand in his uninjured one.
"So you've said." Elsa finally held his gaze. "But there are still questions to be answered."
Hans scoffed and muttered obscenities under his breath. "Just kill me and be done with it. That's the only way you'd get the murders to stop."
The queen clenched her fist and took a deep breath before letting it out to calm herself. "So you admit to being involved."
"If I tell you, how can I be sure you'll keep me safe?" Hans was fiddling with the bandages on his bleeding hand, trying to stop it. Elsa let her hands relax, before taking his bleeding hand in both of her own. "Do you think I would be able to go free after I told you?"
She began to rebandage his hand, pulling it tight enough that he winced, baring his teeth. "It depends. I'm not wholly convinced of your innocence. After all, you're my betrothed, and I must know if you really have changed. If you won't kill me while I sleep in our marriage bed, or if you will."
Hans face grew hot. "You haven't broken the engagement then."
Elsa tied a knot in the bandages, securing them tight with a jerk that had to have hurt him.
Hans didn't make a sound, just silently bit his lip and clenched his other fist against his trouser leg.
"Why would I have? Do I look like some idiot to make an enemy of the Southern Isles?" She released his hand near roughly, the closest thing to actually showing her anger, and he rubbed at it, making a soft sound of pain.
"Or rather an enemy of my mother." He turned to look at her, face still warm.
"Or that. Your mother is a formidable woman." Elsa bowed her head just a fraction lower, her own hands gripping her skirt. "She's so young too."
"Sometimes I think she only married my father because he was forty years her senior." Hans lowered his gaze as well. "She only wanted the throne."
Elsa looked up at him sharply. "Sounds familiar."
Hans just about flinched. "I knew you would say that. She was the one who pushed me to try to marry you or your sister." He sighed. "The first time I was here, that is."
She stiffened. "Are you trying to blame your mother for trying to kill me?"
He glanced at her from the corner of his eye, too afraid to actually look at her for more than a moment at a time. "It was her plan. She even told me to try to woo you first."
Elsa snorted, shaking her head slightly. "Mmhm, of course she did."
"I'm serious!" Hans insisted, hands flat against his thighs, the empty spaces between his fingers still looking wrong and unreal somehow. "You had no interest in.. Well.. It seemed like you had no interest in men."
Her mouth opened in disbelief and more than just a little mirth at just how ridiculous that sounded. "Did you tell your mother this?" She could hardly believe what she was hearing. "Is that why she was so intent on marrying you off to me?"
Hans shrugged one shoulder, fingers flexing unbidden. "You accepted. I guess that means you were more into men than either of us anticipated."
"Do you really think I accepted because I'm attracted to you?" Elsa asked, incredulously. She actually thought that was the funniest thing she had ever heard. "Me? Attracted to you? That's so ridiculous. I didn't even know it was you I would be marrying."
Hans looked over his shoulder at her expression. "So you were willing to marry some stranger from a place you've never been, but not me?"
"For the good of my Kingdom, as it were. The thought of you never even crossed my mind." Elsa shifted in her seat, clearly uncomfortable with the topic of choice. She looked away, eager to get off the subject. "Will you take me to see the Southern Isles then, as a wedding gift?" She sounded remarkably sincere, and Hans had to stare, unwilling to admit that question took him by surprise. "So I can say I'm marrying a man whose homeland I've actually been to."
He faced her. "Elsa, I…"
She hesitantly met his gaze. "What?"
"Can I say something crazy?" Hans took her hand in both of his, the bandages making them unwieldy like rocks attached to the ends of his wrists.
She glowered, half intent on jerking her hand back, expecting the worst. "Go on."
"I would love.." That word got caught in his throat, and he half choked getting it out, "Love, to take you to the Southern Isles."
Elsa's fingers flexed instinctively in the confines between his hands, and frost started spreading onto his hands, and she gaped at him, trying to discern whether he was serious or not. "Really?"
A visible shiver went through him and he squeezed her hand tighter between his, melting the thin layer of rime. "Would you want to?"
"I.." She looked away. "I don't know. I've never been out of Arendelle."
"You've never been married either." Hans responded sharply. "It's time you got to experience things."
"Such as?" Elsa's voice turned sour at the sound of his tone. She was sure this was going to lead down a path she didn't want to travel at all, let alone go down with Hans of all people.
"Well, clearly, you've never received any attention from suitors with this attitude." Hans snapped back.
"I wouldn't want any to begin with." She answered, harshly. "Especially if all of them would act like you are now."
"Oh, Elsa, darling, if you think this is bad, then maybe you're not cut out for spending the rest of your life with me." Hans hissed, his tone caustic and cutting.
"Maybe not then." Elsa turned her face away from him. "You'll have to be the one to tell your mother."
"What? Why should I? Since you apparently can't stand me, you're the only one with the problem with marrying me."
"What?" Her voice was flat. "Why don't you have any problem with it?"
"Why not? A man has needs, which is something someone so frigid like you couldn't understand. Do you think I wouldn't want you if I had the chance, and of course, if you were willing?"
Elsa's face was the reddest it had ever gotten. "What."
"You aren't deaf." Hans pulled away, walking toward the door, disgruntled and suddenly sullen at her reaction. "You heard what I said."
Elsa was still in shock, trying to wrap her mind around it. What. Did. He. Just. Say?
Well, it did make sense, since every single thing he'd done since he arrived screamed secret crush. It was still so bizarre. A man actually was interested in her, and he just happened to be a traitor to her kingdom.
