AN: BWAHAHAHAHAHA super ultra climax time. XD Um, thanks for all my reviews, I love you guys. Y'all are the bomb. Never stop what you're doing. There'll be some Russian, but only a little. Translation at the bottom.
Disclaimer: I don't own Frozen, nor have I ever worked for or with Disney. This is a not for profit fanwork. Thank you for reading.
"What a pity your brothers were not here to welcome you and your bride home, hm?" Jekaterina was lounging in the throne like a cat, a bejeweled goblet in her hand. Her long nails were painted darker red, more black than anything else, and they sparkled like diamonds in the light from the stained glass windows behind the throne.
"They're dead, mother." Gone was Hans' grief, all that was left was an empty feeling and a burning urge for revenge.
"Ah, so they are." Jekaterina leaned toward him, placing her goblet down harder than necessary. A bit of a viscous red liquid that was most definitely not wine splashed up over the rim and dropped down the side, soaking into the delicately inlaid pattern on the cup. "A storm, was it?" She raised one immaculately plucked eyebrow, and lifted the glass to her lips, licking the drip along the side slowly in a lascivious display, her tongue completely red, matching her lips, instead of a normal pink color.
The look on Hans' face betrayed a feeling of hurt and the clench of his fists showed just how angry he was. "Mother. My brothers were killed—"
"In some freak accident, my son."
He shut his mouth, looking away, knowing better than to defy his mother or even worse, disagree. "Yes."
There was no reason to believe it was anything but. To do so would be folly, and dangerous to both him and Elsa.
"Do not fret, моя любовь. Enjoy yourselves, this is your honeymoon."
Hans relaxed, his fingers flexing before releasing. "Yes, Mother. I will do that."
"Why don't you go riding with your bride?" Jekaterina suggested, smirking and showing one sharp incisor inlaid with a ruby when she did so. "The Queen would enjoy seeing the land around the castle."
The Prince considered this for a moment. "She does seem to like riding."
"Good. I have a wedding gift for her waiting in the stables."
Hans led Elsa out to the stables, telling her to keep her eyes closed until she got there. "Alright, you can open your eyes now."
She slowly did as he bade, before gasping. "Hans! I-I—!"
Elsa began stepping toward the beautiful silver Arabian stallion.
"He's for you." Hans presented her with the reins.
She held out a hand to touch the horse's nose. It snorted and pressed toward her touch, eager for her to pet it.
"I think he likes you." The prince let out a soft chuckle.
"He needs a name first." Elsa began stroking it's face.
"How about Esgar?" He offered, moving behind her.
"That's perfect." Elsa turned to look at him over her shoulder.
"Want me to help you into the saddle?" Hans offered his hand.
She gingerly took it and allowed him to help her. Elsa was glad she had worn her riding clothes instead of a dress as she swung her leg over the saddle. Even if Hans were her husband she still needed to maintain some sense of propriety.
Hans' own horse, Sitron, was already saddled and ready to go.
"Shall we go for a race around the castle grounds?" He flashed her a grin.
"Ready for a rematch then?" She met his expression with a challenging smile. "I'll leave you in the dust."
"I'd like to see you try!" He kicked at Sitron's sides and zoomed forward. Elsa did the same to Esgar and followed after him closely.
The Dowager followed closely, watching them from a pool of water in a shallow basin, magically. She waved her elegant hand over it, and the image changed to be from the point of view of a snake. Jekaterina smirked widely, and with a flick of her finger, had the snake strike at Elsa's horse's legs.
Esgar began to buck wildly, whinnying in fear.
Elsa was having trouble controlling the stallion.
Hans had leapt from his horse to try and grab the reins to calm it. The prince was barely a foot away when the horse bucked particularly hard and Elsa was sent flying forward through the air.
"Elsa!" Hans ran forward as if to try to catch her, helpless as he watched her hit the ground, her head making an unmistakably loud cracking sound against a boulder that hadn't been there only a second ago.
"Elsa, please be okay.." He ran to her side, as Esgar galloped away from them. "Elsa, say something!"
Hans scooped her up gently in his arms, and turned her over so he could see her face. Blood was streaming from a gash on her forehead, already starting to trickle down her nose. At least she was breathing, which Hans silently prayed she would remain.
"Elsa!" He called out to her, but she didn't respond. "No, I'm not losing you! Elsa, stay with me.." He carried her onto his horse, before climbing on behind her, riding off back to the castle.
She hadn't roused in the entire time he was sitting at her side.
Hans had burst into the castle, muddy and sweating, frantic and carrying Elsa in his arms like a ragdoll. He had yelled for someone to help him, and the guards ran to him. One of them took her from him, and brought her to the bedroom she had been sharing with her husband. The servants cleaned and dressed her wound but she hadn't awoken. Since that moment, he hadn't moved from that spot.
Hans was dozing, arms crossed over his chest, as the Dowager swished into the room. That woke him up for a second. "Mother?"
"It's good to see you are awake." She turned to where Elsa was lying, unconscious. "The same could not be said for her."
Hans leapt to his feet. "Is the doctor coming?"
"Not tonight but tomorrow morning." Jekaterina stood tall in front of her son. "But before that, you need to do one thing."
A shiver went down his spine, and he looked to Elsa. "What do you want me to do?"
"Make sure she does not wake." Jekaterina picked up a pillow, handing it to her son. "Press it to young Elsa's face until she stops moving."
"What? N-no, I'm not doing it!" Hans refused, shoving the pillow away. "I'm not killing my wife! I love her, Mother!"
"Then let me do it." The Dowager shoved her son to the side with supernatural strength, and he crashed into his chair.
She began to press the pillow to her face, and Hans yelled, "No!"
He fumbled at his desk for something to stop her with and found a letter opener made in the shape of a small sword. "Stop!" He ran at her with the letter opener, burying it to the hilt in her back. Something tar-like and warm splattered outward from within all over his hands and shirt and he dropped the tool.
Jekaterina screamed so loud the windows cracked, and Hans had to cover his ears before they bled. A smoky substance was billowing out from the slit the letter opener made in her flesh, instead of blood. The letter opener had fallen to the floor.
Hans crawled on hands and knees to get the tool, before standing up and facing his mother again. But instead of her being where she was, the room was empty except for Elsa, still unmoving like a porcelain doll. A cold wind was blowing through the broken glass of the windows, and his bride began to stir behind him.
He dropped the letter opener from his shaking hands. "Elsa..."
She made a soft noise, touching her head and wincing. "Anna? Where an I?"
Hans flew to her bedside, taking her hand in both of his black stained ones. "Elsa, are you alright? I thought you were going to be dead for sure."
"N-no... I was cold, for the first time I was so cold, and I tried so hard to wake up but I couldn't." She hugged him tightly.
"Elsa, I'm so sorry.."
"You brought me here after I fell from that horse, didn't you? You could have easily let me die.." Elsa was staring at him. "But you made sure I was safe."
"Yes.. I did."
Elsa cupped his face in her hands and kissed him. "Thank you. I.. I did not believe you or your meaning when you had first apologized but I know you meant it. And I'm sorry." Tears sprung to her eyes and froze on her face. "I should have trusted you."
Hans kissed her cheek instead of her forehead and held her close. "It's okay now. Nothing's going to hurt you again. I promise."
He got a good look at the letter opener lying on the floor, still sticky with the black muck that ran through his mother's veins instead of blood.
моя любовь (moya lyubov - my love, a creepy thing to say to your son)
