I've been itching for something to write lately, and after reading some Hansla fics, I decided to write a little one-shot on Hans. If people like it enough, I may continue it. Enjoy, and please review!
-Steefwaterbutter
Tomorrow I die.
His feet ached from pacing. The walls seemed to shrink around him, and he thought of a lion he had once seem walking back and forth in its cage, never still, golden eyes never blinking. He wondered if Elsa had felt this way, so desperate, so hopeless.
Hans let out a small growl, before sinking to his knees. He pressed his back against the cold floor and stared up, his eyes tracing over the cracks in the ceiling.
Tomorrow I die.
The thought had run through his head many times in the last hours. Tomorrow his life ended. The masquerade he had kept up while being in Arendelle, the torment from his older brothers... it would all cease. The candle would be puffed out, and the room would become black.
It was a worthy punishment, he supposed. He had attempted to murder the princess and queen of Arendelle, in turn, he himself faced execution. He was the villian, like in one of the fairy tales his mother use to tell him. Villains did not get happy endings.
Tomorrow I die.
A small drop of water spilled out of the crack and hit him in the nose. He rubbed at it, then clenched his teeth as a trickle of blood and spurt of pain reminded him of his broken nose. His arm still sent stabbing pains through his body, and the bruises had not yet healed.
As he watched the moisture spread along the cracks, he found himself thinking of Elsa, how the ice had spread across the surface of anything she touched. Before she learned to control it and everyone was happy. Except for him. But villains didn't get happy endings.
Tomorrow I die.
An image of Elsa's magnificent ice castle swept through his mind. She has caused much damage with her powers, but that... that was...
Hans rubbed at his hair, trying to think of something other than the young queen. However, the images kept sweeping through his mind: Anna looking up at him and giggling madly, himself leaving her to die; Elsa staring at him in the wirling ice and snow, himself lifting a sword to kill her.
"Queen Elsa! Don't become the monster they fear you are!"
Hans sucked in his breath, squeezing his eyes shut. It seemed someone had buried a knife in his heart, twisting the blade cruelly.
I am a monster. I am the one who has become a monster.
He slowly rolled to his side and brought his knees to his chin. He felt like a child, small and vulnerable. His entire body trembled. Hans had never before hated himself as much as he did in that moment.
I'm sorry.
It was only two words, two small words, but saying them seemed to ease the tightness in his chest.
I wish I could take it all back.
Hans remembered how, just before the gaurds had shoved him below deck, he had caught a glimpse of Anna, Kristoff swinging her around, and kissing her tenderly. He recalled how Elsa looked down and walked away when they grabbed his arms, a cold chunk of ice settling in his stomach. Villians didn't get happy endings.
His hand brushed softly over the floor, as he half-opened his eyes. Slowly, the once-prince of the the Southern Isles dragged himself to his feet to stare out the iron bars. The gallows silhouetted against the lightening sky as the moon sank beneith the horizon.
Again, his body trembled.
Today, I die.