Elsa was exhausted. She'd been blasting saltwater as cold as she could get it, freezing the water in the air or on the surface of the ocean to create a path to the Southern Isles. For the last couple of hours, she had been working non-stop to create an icy road for Sven to traverse.

It took a toll on her. Not only was the water salty enough to resist freezing, but she had to freeze it deep enough that it could support the combined weight of her, Sven, and the sled. Magic took effort, as it turned out. She was currently between the zones of 'I want to sleep forever' and 'I want to nap so bad I would rip off my own hand to do it'.

Once more, things were proving to be... difficult.

She reached a marker between Arrendelle and the Southern Isles; the prison. She let out a sigh, steering Sven towards the large building. Once she got off the sled, she noticed the reindeer was not doing much better. A stab of guilt flooded her. Sven was a good animal; it wasn't he who had sent Sophia off. Between the extreme cold she'd been blasting and the running for hours on end, the poor creature had been exhausted.

Seeing him about to keel over, Elsa headed towards the island. She had long been curious about him and his imprisonment. Her updates had detailed the kind of abuses he had endured and the queen felt the need to justify leaving Hans in such a place.

She passed the spot he had hit the surf as a dog by mere feet, coming to rest at the base of the cliff. Looking up the stairs, Elsa wondered what exactly to do next, "I'll be right back," she told the animal.

Walking up the steps, the young woman thought to her own imprisonment. Hans had reached out to her. He, of all people, wasn't afraid of her power. Why not? What was it that kept drawing him to her. Anna, he had planned on meeting. But not her. So why did he continue to show up in her life? She opened the door to his space and regarded the room with shock; it had been ransacked.

The one doing the ransacking sighed as he spotted her, "Queen Elsa, welcome." Gunther gestured to the ripped-up couch, "Please have a seat."

"What is this?"

"A house for elite criminals."

"No," She shook her head, confused, "What are you doing?"

"Oooooh, yeah, I'm on a king's errand. You wouldn't understand," Immediately his words put her on edge. Elsa was about to leave when she spotted ancient runes carved into the wall.

"...what?" She crossed over, running her fingers along the cuts in the board. The thing popped free, revealing its contents; a thin leather belt.

Gunther's breath appeared in her ear, "Perfect."

One second later, Elsa felt her stomach explode with pain. The breath rushed out of her lungs.

"You have no idea, do you?" Snarled Gunther, "How long my brother would go on and on about you. He couldn't shut up."

"I survived," Elsa wheezed as the large man struck her stomach, again, robbing her of all breath.

"No... no, you don't know, do you? He grew up wanting to meet you. Just to get to know you, the poor ice-olated princess," He laughed at his wordplay, and picked up the black king, "For years he checked for someone, anyone who could introduce the two of you. Then he realized; you don't need anyone, or want anyone. You're just alone. It didn't hurt that... heh..."

His next blow placed his boot squarely into the side of her ribs, launching her to the newly-repaired window.

"...don't you know why your daddy died?"

Elsa's eyes grew wide with panic. That was out of nowhere! Why would he say any of these things? He was just trying to get into her head. More Westerguard trickery.

"I couldn't believe that he lost to you. Pathetic. He should have known to account for every piece on the board," Gunther threw away the black king, "And you! You should have died in those mines!"

Elsa's eyes widened, "...you," She barely whispered, "It was you!"

Gunther couldn't hear her, but he picked her up and unfastened his belt, "Don't get any ideas. It's nothing personal," He tied the belt around her ribs, depriving her of air, "My brother and I used to do this to learn how to swim. It taught us to survive when our air was almost non-existent."

Elsa felt the leather biting into her flesh. Once she let out the last of her air, she would be thrown into the water to drown. It was time to call the one guy she knew to count on.

"Sven!"

"Who's that?" Laughed Gunther, "Your boyfriend?"

A very large reindeer burst into the room, snorting. Gunther stopped his work to turn and look at the bizarre beast, "What?!"

Elsa hit the ground as Sven rammed the prince, full speed. Ice spikes emerged from her dress, penetrating the tough leather, which started to rip. She managed to get on all fours. Gunther got up again. This time he had a knife. Sven kicked him, knocking the knife away.

"Fine, no knives," He growled, picking up an iron poker. Elsa froze it to the rest of the fireplace material, "Fine! How about..." He looked around.

"Enough," She gasped, climbing to her feet with Sven's help, "I'm guessing that this belt is proof that Hans murdered his eldest brother?"

Gunther swallowed hard. He was here to rob his brother of what little protection he could provide his niece. In Elsa's hands, it could prove disastrous. Sure, she had no standing in the eyes of the Southern Isles, but if she aligned herself with someone who was...

"I could help you, you know," Gunther let out smoothly, "What I meant before was... wow. Look at you, you're gorgeous," Elsa felt her stomach roll; murder and love were bed partners to the Southern Isles royalty, "But with Hans gone, I've got to ask; what exactly is your plan here? Are you going to march into court with that thing?! Please. He died trying to protect the little brat. I don't expect you to be subject to such weakness. Weren't you promised something, something special from your father...?"

Then it hit her; grief. Hans death hurt. She never loved him, really, but now she knew, now she understood him. Hans was a bad person. Period. But. But maybe he did love her.

She wanted to be loved.

...and he would save Sophia, again. Even in death his schemes continued. For a second she wished she could just ask him what to do. She hadn't been raised understanding political machinations. All this cloak and dagger stuff was confusing.

Her heart had ached when she had read the runes; "white queen". It explained so much about him. And, in a way, made his story tragic. A cold fury overwhelmed her. She would right this wrong. Hans had died unloved, and unappreciated. But he had done so with the power to bring the Southern Isles to its knees. She could use this to save Sophia- somehow.

Before her father had died, he had promised her she wouldn't be alone and unloved. Well, just because he couldn't hold up his end of the bargain, didn't mean she couldn't keep one with her daughter.

_oooooo_

Hans slapped the chessboard across the room in a fury. His mood had darkened the longer he had sat there. Fraternicide was proving... difficult. No matter what he did, at least one of his brothers survived, and thus posed a threat. The odds against him were daunting. Between his brothers and the sisters, there was almost no chance of his killing everyone who could threaten Sophia's life.

That bothered him. He'd killed an entire ship's crew, his own brother, and... more besides that he would rather not think about, but he was simply incapable of protecting Sophia. He reset the pieces, giving white extras and black less.

"I'm Black now," he said to himself, "Captain of the Black."

Moving his knight helped him focus his mind. Archer was a problem, so was Gunther. The biggest problem, though, was the protection of the white queen. She was always frustrating his moves, mostly by accident. And it's not like he could apply a safe amount of pressure. He grabbed the piece, feeling the same amount of frustration towards her as...

He let out a breath. Frozen heart, right? Like that day on the fjord when-!

Hans swallowed his anger, allowing a deep-set cold to overwhelm him. No. He wouldn't, couldn't endanger her life again. He had to find another way. Even aiming a crossbow at her had been difficult.

That small voice squeaked out one more but you love her before he silenced it again. He had no time for love, and it's not like anyone would love him back, anyways. He knew what had happened the last time he had tried to...

A knock on the door signaled the hour's 'entertainment'. Anna had decided to visit the man regularly for no logical reason. She always wanted to ask the same questions.

"What's the Southern Isles like?"

"It's... south."

"...of what?!"

"...places north of them!"

They had just crossed into Southern Isles waters when Hans felt himself start to go back into his old habits. Not just scheming by playing chess. He bathed and shaved. If Anna looked at him too closely, she'd know who he was.

She knocked again, "Do you want to-!"

"Go away, Anna!"

"...protect Sophia?!"

There were thuds above deck. Within seconds, Hans opened the door, grabbed Anna, and fled to the end of the hallway. He left her right outside the door and ran inside. Sophia regarded him with open-eyes.

"Get in the crate!" He rapidly hissed, pointing. She obeyed immediately. Good kid.

The door burst open. Without turning, Hans knew who it was; he knew the drill. The boots he had heard were rare seal's skin; they were made from a species that rested in his homeland but once a season, driven inland by fishing vessels.

It took a special license just to hunt them. Even then, only a master leather-worker could make anything of it. The material was then reserved by the elite. The leather itself was pitchblack, a handsome material, but also tough.

Hans knew that because he had a pair of boots himself.

"Hans," Said Gunther in greeting. His brother threw Anna down on the floor unceremoniously, "Where's the whore-child?"

Hans took a moment to compose himself. He was wearing his old princely uniform. Spinning, Hans looked his brother full in the face, "Right in front of me."

Anna gasped. Her mouth went slack and her eyes stared, unblinking. No way. No... way. He was dead, this was a bad dream. She and Sophia were safe, napping in Elsa's sanctuary (which her sister would complain about later). Hans was dead.

Again.

Hans took a breath, "Allow me, brother." His sword sliced through the air, penetrating Sophia's crate swiftly, "Now, let's go home."

Gunther looked at Anna suspiciously, then to Hans, then his eyes rested on the crate, "What did that crate ever do to you?"

"Nothing."

Gunther smiled, "I like where your heart's at."

He motioned the men to return upstairs, "And take the princess with you."

Anna was lifted up. It was then that the reality of the situation hit her, "You... you murderer! Sophia loved you! How could you?!"

Hans bit down a reply. It had to be this way...

Once the door shut, the prince walked over to Sophia's crate and dislodged his blade. There was no way anyone inside would have survived that blow.

Then he went to Anna's crate and let Sophia out.

"I need you to be quiet until we reach the castle, okay?" He then removed her crate, wrapped it in metal chains, and threw it over the side of the boat, fully in view of Gunther's ship. He could hear Anna screaming at him over the waves.

Frozen heart... he said robotically, frozen heart...

a.n. I think the end to this story sucks myself. Yes, it's done, but it's a bit weak. Bleh. :/ this is where it all goes wrong, really. I wanted Elsa to visit the cell, and for Hans to get to the Southern Isles first. Oh, well.