AN: And the plot marches forward! XD So it's starting to pick up toward the climax, y'all so you better hold onto your hats because it's gonna be a bumpy ride. Thanks for everyone's continued support and reviews. I love every one of you, okay? Don't forget it. Also some of you will be hella proud of yourselves this chapter cause theories will be proven wrong or right.
Disclaimer: I don't own any part of Frozen, have never worked at or for Disney, and this is a not for profit fanwork. Thank you for reading.
Elsa had never been on a ship before. That had to be why her seasickness was so bad. It was a good thing they were reaching land within the hour.
She had secluded herself in the cabin she was sharing with Hans.
The Prince, her new husband, was often on deck away from her. He had always loved the sea more than anything else, and feeling the wind in his hair was worth leaving Elsa alone for a short while, even if the salt made the scars on his face burn. She didn't want him to see her sick, he assumed, since she pushed him out of the room anyway.
Elsa wished her sister was on the ship, instead of at home with Kristoff and Gunter. It would have made the seasickness easier to handle, instead of the way it was.
She was sipping ginger tea, which according to Jekaterina worked wonders for nausea. The Dowager was probably in her own cabin, safe, away from the roiling motion, used to the sea, unlike the way Elsa was.
Hans slipped into the cabin, going right to his bride. "Are you feeling any better?"
The queen shook her head as he leaned in for a kiss, covering her mouth. "Don't kiss me, I'm ill."
Hans gently clasped her upper arms. "Elsa, we're in port. We aren't even moving."
She looked up at him. "I had thought I'd gotten used to the movements."
He smirked and kissed her anyway while she was distracted.
Elsa pushed him away. "Mnh— Stop. I'm still feeling ill."
Hans touched her face, brushing her messy hair back behind her ear. "I'll have a doctor summoned as soon as we get home." He corrected himself. "My home. To the castle."
Elsa closed her eyes wearily, leaning against his touch. "I don't need a doctor. I just need off of this ship and into the open air."
Hans frowned. "Elsa—"
"Hans, please. You're my husband, not my father." Elsa's eyes were maddeningly bright when she looked back at him.
"I only want you to be well enough to enjoy this." He lifted her gloved hand, pulling the glove off, finger by finger, and kissing the bared flesh beneath.
"Hans," Elsa's tone was warning, spikes of frost gathering at her palm where she anticipated him kissing her next.
"Yes, my love," Hans began, running his fingertip around the patch of ice gathering in her palm.
She inhaled sharply, pulling her hand back and snatching up her glove, the icicles melting away to nothing in less than a second as she slipped her glove back on.
"Tch, what has gotten into you?" He looked at her, confused and a little offended. "Do you think I'm going to attempt something devious? Or, maybe, one of my, well, our subjects will?"
"The way you say that doesn't give me any comfort."
"You worry too much." Hans waved her off dismissively.
"Says the man who tried to kill me, and is now my husband."
"You married me, Elsa."
"Against my better judgement!"
"Against your better judgement or not, we are married now."
Elsa stared at him, gaze frosty. "I'm starting to rethink the idea of it."
"Even if the closest feeling to love you can muster for me is vague animosity, we are still married." Hans squeezed her arms.
Elsa squirmed from his grip and stepped away, arms crossed over her middle as she turned away."I don't want to talk to you right now."
"Elsa." He came up behind her, and put his hand against her back.
Frost began to gather around his fingertips but didn't go any farther past that.
"Giving me the cold shoulder, hm?" His other hand slid around her waist, coming to rest on her own hands.
She snorted, unladylike, and sounded as if she was trying not to laugh. "Your jokes are terrible, Hans."
He grinned against her shoulder as he moved her sleeve off to bare it to his wandering lips. "So there is a person under that shell. I half suspected I married a snowman."
That got her to actually laugh, well, that and the fact that his kisses were tickling her shoulder.
"Sometimes I almost love you, and then you open your mouth and these awful jokes come out and I hate you again." She looked over her shoulder at him.
"Almost?" He brushed his lips against hers.
"It's a start."She smiled back, weakly.
Hans grinned and kissed her again, deeper.
Elsa began to reciprocate before pulling back. "Not right now. I just need some air."
"Then let me walk with you. The ship must be ready to leave by now."
Elsa looked up at him and Hans extended his hand to her. "C'mon."
She took his hand and he entwined their fingers, the feeling of his missing fingertips still not something she was used to.
Hans led the way as they went onto the deck of the ship.
Elsa was breathing slowly, relishing the unfamiliar smell of the warm sea mixed with something else she couldn't place.
Hans gripped her elbow, turning her so she could see the skyline of the Southern Isles.
She gasped aloud beside him, and clasped her hand over his on her arm. "It's so beautiful."
"Isn't it?" His voice was warm and longing. "I've missed my homeland much since I've been with you."
She didn't respond for a moment, lost in the sunrise over the vast expansive city in front of her.
Hans had seen the sun rise over his home too many times to count but it was Elsa's reaction to the novelty of it that he was so captivated by. "You look so beautiful in this light." It was out of his mouth before he could stop it.
Elsa turned to look at him, face glowing pink in the predawn light. "What?"
Hans merely cleared his throat and wrapped his arms around her.
Elsa didn't know how to react or what to do, so she leaned back against him, for the first time in her life feeling at home beside someone else.
"Look, I need to know something." Kristoff cornered Meinhard in the hall one cold morning. "Do you know who I am?"
Hans' brother stared him down gruffly. "Can't say that I do. Queen Elsa introduced you as Duke Christopher, was it?"
"It's Kristoff." He answered, crossing his arms.
Meinhard fixed him with his piercing gaze, cold blue eyes searching his face. "Although, now that you do mention it, you do look familiar."
"The same goes to you. I've been saying it this whole time." Kristoff agreed loudly.
The bearded mountain man looked him up and down. "Did you ever know a woman named Bjorgman?"
"My last name is Bjorgman!"
"So it is." Meinhard's eyes grew wide. "Was Darja your mother then? I've never known any other Bjorgmans and I've been all over the country."
"I don't know. I only remember my mother had hair much darker than mine. And I would always wonder why that was."
"You have her eyes." Meinhard cleared his throat, rubbing at his own weathered face with the heel of his hand as if tears were coming.
"You knew her?" Kristoff was incredulous. He was sure his mother had died fairly unknown by anyone except for his father.
"Boy, I loved her like no other."
Kristoff's eyes grew wide with understanding. "Does that mean you're my father?" His brow furrowed as he realized something. "Where were you when we were attacked by bandits? She died because you weren't there!"
Meinhard's expression softened. "I hadn't known she was pregnant when I left."
"Then why did you leave in the first place?" Kristoff's voice broke and he scrubbed at his eyes with his sleeve, feeling like a little kid again.
"I wanted to stay, don't get me wrong! I just... left because I wanted to keep her safe from harm."
"Well, that worked out well, didn't it?" Kristoff's tone was acidic.
"I regret leaving her everyday of my life, you have no idea what I've gone through."
"I was orphaned and all alone, besides Sven, until I was eight because you were too self centered to even check up on her!"
"Wait, Sven?" Meinhard held up a hand to stop him.
"He's my reindeer." He explained, losing steam quickly, sounding more weary than anything else. "I wandered around trying to find you for years. My mother always told me my father was an ice harvester. So I looked there first."
"Which wasn't too far from the truth." Meinhard answered, voice soft.
"I've found you, after all these years, after I've given up on ever finding my father, and it turns out your brother almost got my wife killed two years ago."
Meinhard's eyes narrowed. "I only heard of Hans' imprisonment and pardon, I'm sorry to hear that. That little whoreson came from bad stock, that's all I can say."
There was a long period of silence before Kristoff began again.
"Anna would love to meet you. And your grandson!"
"I have a grandson." Meinhard's voice was flat, disbelief coursing through his every word.
"He looks like my mother, I thought, when I first saw him. What i can remember of her, at least." Kristoff added, before starting down the hallway toward baby Gunter's room.
"You have good taste in love, boy." Meinhard called after him. "Your Anna reminds me so much of Darja, it's almost like she was alive again."
Kristoff looked over his shoulder at him, stopping in his tracks.
"She'd be proud of you, y'know." Meinhard offered, gently.
"I wish I could say the same for you." Kristoff answered cuttingly, turning back around and starting to walk again.
"I know I'm a coward for running, but I feel bad enough as it is. Must you rub it in my face every chance you get?"
Kristoff was silent a moment, before replying with "Yes. You shouldn't forget her anytime soon."
"I won't." Meinhard promised. "I know I won't. I loved her."
"I did too." His words were stiff, and awkward, like he'd never used them before. "Father."
