Author's Note: And in this chapter, well... you'll see. Wow, I can't think of a good way to title this chapter. Oh well.

I'm going to warn you, I have no idea what I'm doing. Cheers!

Passions Renewed

Hans paced around the small confines of the holding cell of the boat. The guards watching him eyed him warily, occasionally reaching out as if to stop... whatever it was Hans was doing. He grunted in frustration, hating every moment he spent in the brig.

The land was calling for another sacrifice, the fire burning at him again a few days after his brother's "suicide" while he attended the funeral. He almost gave in when he realized that, though Hans felt like it was enough, the land didn't care and wanted more. Oh, if only he didn't leave his cell to meet with the pixie, none of this would have happened.

He wanted nothing more than to be punished for what he did, but no matter how much he told them that he did the deed, that it was his fault Klaus was dead, no one believed him. Hans thought it a cruel irony that, when telling the truth, they thought him insane. Yet more often than not in the past, when he lied, he practically played each fool like a harp. A cruel irony, indeed.

If that dreaded pixie was still watching his plight, he was sure that she would be laughing at him about now.

Running a hand through his tangled mess of hair, Hans put his mind to work, not ceasing his infinite walk around his cell. He needed to distract himself, or else he might genuinely lose all reason because of the aggravating twisting in his chest demanding another victim.

The boat had finally reached harbor, he listed in his head. It took a little under two weeks to get to Corona, which meant that –

Well, he hoped that he didn't intrude on something important, since it seemed that he arrived during the king and queen's wedding anniversary. They wouldn't be too pleased with him about that.

Okay, so that would put a bit of a kink in his plans to win the rulers over. Hopefully they were as merciful as his king brother implied, because if they weren't, it seemed that the pixies' fun with him would be over.

He smiled at the mental image of a large crowd of pixies wreaking havoc at his death. Over-dramatic, sure, but doesn't everyone want a bit of fanfare when they die?

The thoughts brought him back around to think about Klaus and his demise. Hans stopped his pacing and slowly sank to his knees, feeling like the breath was kicked out of him. Curse Klaus. If Klaus hadn't been such a fool and loved him enough to feel guilt about "driving Hans insane," then Hans wouldn't be distraught over killing him. He never thought that he was capable of ever feeling that way towards any of his brothers, Klaus the worst of them all, yet here he was. And there Klaus wasn't.

Hans almost laughed at himself for daring to "think ill of the dead." Hans didn't forgive Klaus for everything he did to him as a child, and even up until a few years ago when his brothers started having a change of heart. No, Klaus was still a terrible person in Hans' mind. The same goes for his living siblings.

But why did he still agonize for what happened to Klaus? Perhaps that's the strange force that brought Queen Elsa to her knees, thinking she was responsible for Princess Anna's death, even after shutting her little sister out of her life for over a decade. Was this the unconditional love for a sibling?

Hans pursed his lips and cursed the thought of those sisters. Why his thoughts settled on them, he would never know. He swore that, if he ever got his hands on either one of them, he would not hesitate in killing them. Sure, he would gain nothing in their deaths this time around (though admittedly if he were to sacrifice them, maybe a few days of reprieve), but they were responsible for him failing his plans. Also, Hans never liked to leave things unfinished.

Yes, his brothers were also largely at fault for far more transgressions and he still harbored ill-will towards them, but if his reactions back at the wheat field were anything to go by, he would never enact revenge on his siblings. At least, "revenge" by way of killing them. Killing Klaus obviously didn't alleviate any need for closure. In reality, it made things worse.

In fact, if he were to blame anyone for the situation he was in right now, he would blame Queen Elsa above anyone else. Oh, that realization settled far better in his chest than blaming himself for all of this. After all, it was her magic that made the pixies even consider him to be some kind of steward of sacrifice for some death-hungry magical consciousness.

Revenge, though... Wasn't the thirst for revenge what got him into this mess in the first place? It was partially due to the fact that he willingly decided to seek out the pixie and her promises of vengeance, despite having been told in the past about how dangerous her kind was. No matter, regardless of what he called it, revenge or otherwise, Elsa will finally get her just deserts.

"He's in here?" a female voice reverberated throughout the brig. One of the guards answered in the affirmative, and Hans heard a small stampede of footsteps approach his cell.

"He's not looking too good," another voice, male, said in front of the bars. Hans raised his face to see the new people who were observing him. A man and a woman, finely dressed, watched him with observant eyes. A group of about four uniformed men, likely soldiers or guards, stood behind them donning the colors of Corona.

"He's refused to care for himself during the voyage. The only thing we've managed was to get him to eat, Your Majesties," one of the Southern Isles guards said.

Upon hearing the honorific, Hans bowed his head again, showing respect. It seemed that the king and queen of Corona had decided to grace him with their presence. Things were beginning to look less bleak for Hans.

"What's your name?" the king asked.

A strange question, especially if his brother left out a few important details about the person being transported in a prisoner vessel.

"Hans Westergaard, Your Majesty."

"How many brothers do you have?"

Hans blinked a few times, not quite believing the kinds of questions the king was asking.

"Twelve – I mean, eleven, Your Majesty." What would be the correct answer to that question? "I had twelve, but –"

"Do you pick your nose and eat your boogers?"

Hans' head shot up and stared at the king in disbelief. "What? No! Of course not! I am a prince, Your Majesty, and I –"

"He's pretty stable, you can take him to the dungeon now," the king interrupted, eyes agleam with amusement. Hans couldn't help but feel like he was cheated, somehow. Still, he admired the wit the king had in figuring out his mental status. He was still reeling, trying to piece together what exactly happened in their verbal exchange, however. "And put this on him, we don't want to alarm everyone." The king tossed a heap of fabric at one of his entourage behind him.

"What of his possessions, Your Majesty?" a Southern Isles guard asked.

"We'll let him hold them. Just remember to put a sheath on the business end of that... what even is that?"

"Its called a scythe, Eugene," the queen laughed. "I'm the one who's been locked away in a tower, and even I knew that."

His brothers had mentioned a few details about the monarchy of Corona and their strange history, so what the queen said didn't surprise him. The king, however, he was still trying to get a read on. He certainly had a non-regal way of carrying himself. Probably was a commoner at some point. There was also a hint of uncertainty about him, despite the show of confidence he displayed after questioning him.

"Uh huh, well, make sure Prince Hans doesn't get any funny ideas while holding that thing. While we don't want to distress him any further, we also don't want to run the risk of having a mess to clean up." The king, Eugene, if Hans heard the name correctly, directed his attention to his kneeling form. "And please don't give me a reason to disappoint your brother. He asked nicely."

###

Again, the irony was not lost on Hans when he thought about what was happening around him at that moment. Being escorted, more or less, like a common prisoner; he had expected as much. Under the guise of night, he expected as well. The combination of the two, along with the plain black cloak to hide his features as he brandished the curved blade of the scythe above his head (though effectively sheathed); yes, bravo, but please hold the encore next time.

At the very front of the escort, Hans could hear the two rulers talking softly to each other. He tuned his ears, trying to pick up their conversation without making it obvious that he was trying to eavesdrop.

"And I have no idea how you were able to do that so well!" the queen said.

"Rapunzel, you flatter me," the king said, brushing off the compliment with a flick of his wrist. "My old days as a thief come in handy. I know his type, even dealt with them before."

"I'm so glad I put you in charge of talking to him."

Hans lost track of the rest of the conversation, since their voices turned too low for him to hear clearly.

So, the king used to be a thief, and had done some unscrupulous things with none-too-pleasant people. And somehow he was able to win the heart of the princess, marry her, and later became king. What had King Eugene done differently, that Hans wasn't able to do the same? Why did Fate have him set his sights on Arendelle instead of Corona?

Probably for the same reason he was stuck in the soul-sacrificing business: Fate was cruel, and loved to rub things in his face. He almost laughed at the possibility that Fate was another magical consciousness, similar to the concept that the land around him really hated humans right now.

Speaking of which, that brought up the issue of when – he already gave up on the possibility of if – he was going to carry out another... "assignment." Because, wow, if the stirring in his chest was anything to go by, the land that he was slave to was very impatient. He could already feel the edges of his own thoughts getting prodded at by the incessant chant of kill, kill, kill that pulsed with the ache in his chest.

If the chant were with words much less morbid, he might say it sounded beautiful. Unfortunately, that wasn't the case and he was left with something that made him uncomfortable.

###

"He's in the dungeon right now," Rapunzel said to Elsa, taking a seat in the meeting room. Flynn took a seat next to his wife.

"Is he... 'alright in the head'?" Anna asked using air quotes with her hands.

"Eugene thinks he's safe enough for a small interrogation, but since we don't know his character very well, it'll be hard to tell when he's lying or not. At best, the two of us have the risk of unknowingly being manipulated." Rapunzel pushed a short brunette lock of hair behind her ear, which fell stubbornly out of place again. A nervous tick probably, Elsa assumed.

"You want us to interrogate him?" Elsa asked, wondering if she understood what they were implying.

"You don't have to, if you don't want to," Rapunzel added quickly. "I mean, yeah, it's doable, but I'm not sure Eugene and I are cut out for dealing with Hans with just the two of us."

"Why? What did he do?" Anna asked, worried.

"Nothing, and that's the problem," Flynn stated, raking his fingers in his hair. He forgot his crown was there and caught it before it fell to the ground. Rapunzel took it from him and set the accessory back on his head. He gave her a sheepish, thankful smile. "I've dealt with people similar to Hans in the past: sly, secretive, manipulative, stab-you-in-the-back and whatnot. I can get some things out of him if I were to catch him off guard. I tried that trick on him to see if he was still sane, and it worked... But... I think he caught on, because as soon as I tried to get more out of him, I got nothing. Nada. Zilch. Zero. Just stared at me bored and kept his mouth shut. I can't get a read on him if he's trying to get a read on me. At least, that's what I think he was doing."

"And you want us to... what, exactly?"

"Well... it's a long shot, but just be in the room while we talk to him again. You can ask him a few questions as well, if you're so inclined. I was thinking that just having him face the people he's wronged might make him more susceptible to spilling things. Forgive me for bringing this up, but I heard that he did reveal his whole plan to you, Anna. He might do the same again. Or maybe lose his cool and forget about trying to keep quiet."

"Ugh, fine, I'll join you. But please let me just punch him in the face if he bothers me, okay?"

"I'll go with you," Kristoff said. "I won't let him hurt you again, if I can help it."

"Aw, thanks Kristoff."

Everyone in the meeting room stood from their seats, save for Elsa. She played with the stitching on her gloves, staring off into the distance.

"Do you want to join us, Elsa?" Rapunzel asked.

"Yes, but I'm going to join you a bit later. I'm... feeling a bit overwhelmed right now at the thought of having to face him," Elsa replied. She bit the bottom of her lip in worry. "But I share the same sentiment as Kristoff. I don't want him hurting anyone if I can help it. I've learned that it's better to face your fears and problems head-on instead of running from them." Anna smiled at Elsa's words. She smiled back, knowingly.

"Okay, we'll see you there in a bit. Everyone else ready then?" Everyone else nodded and left the room, leaving Elsa alone at the long wooden table.

She took a few deep breaths and closed her eyes, blocking out the world around her and trying to center herself. Anna was safe with Kristoff, Hans was locked away in a dungeon. There was no need for worry. Except, why did she still feel anxious?

Because Hans had easily fooled everyone in the past. She wasn't sure if that would still be true if King Pieter's letter really meant what it said, that Hans was quickly descending into madness and his brother's death was the last straw. Would an imbalanced psyche still be capable of manipulation? Was the insanity even real, though?

Was he insane the whole time?

There was no way, she figured, to really know unless she faced him again. Hopefully King Eugene, also known as the infamous Flynn Rider, would be able to coax the truth out of him with his plan. If not, she herself would have a shot at it.

A knock at the meeting room's door signaled the entry of one of the castle's servants. She was out of breath, blood rushing to her face as if she recently sprinted to meet Elsa.

"Your... Majesty," the servant wheezed. "It's... it's not urgent, but... Queen Rapunzel requests that you start making... your way to the dungeon."

"Did she say why?" Elsa asked the servant.

"No, Queen Elsa."

"May I ask why you ran here, then?"

"There was a lot of shouting, Your Majesty." The servant, finally catching her breath, relaxed her posture and cleared her throat. "I was just worried if it would end up being urgent, despite Queen Rapunzel's reassurances."

"Can you lead me to them?"

"Yes, Your Majesty."

###

As soon as she opened the door to the dungeon, she could hear Anna and Hans screaming angrily at each other. Turning the corner, she saw Anna with her arms waving around her head, pacing. Kristoff followed Anna around, hands in front of him in a placating gesture. Rapunzel and Flynn sat on two stools, watching the volley of words between Anna and Hans with wide eyes. Hans gripped at the bars of his cell, knuckles turing white. Two guards stood watch, their discomfort apparent in their stances.

"You ruined everything!" Hans screamed. "Why couldn't you have been given a sense of self-preservation like everyone else!? Because of you, I lost my chance at freedom. I lost my brother!"

"Oh yeah? Good riddance! I thought you didn't care for them anyway!" Anna retorted, face turning red in fury. "He killed himself out of guilt, right? I hope you develop a conscience like that and join him!"

Hans released his hold on the bars and stepped back, face contorted into shock. Anna clasped her hands over her mouth, stunned silent. Elsa, herself, was surprised at the words that came from her sister. She could see the regret in Anna's eyes, tears threatening to fall.

Hans' features molded into a smile and an a stony gaze, hiding whatever emotion he was feeling.

"Oh my, Anna. I never knew you were actually capable of saying something that would hurt me," Hans chuckled, the charming character from the coronation playing through his words. "Did that make you feel better?"

"He's deflecting, Anna. I think that's enough for now," Flynn sighed. "I think your sister should have a crack at him."

At the mention of Elsa's presence, Hans' act dropped and snapped his attention to where she stood. She walked to where everyone else was situated, making sure to not knock over the sheathed scythe leaning against the wall in front of Hans' cell. Within a split second, Hans slammed himself into the cell door, hands reaching out to grab at her.

"You!" Hans seethed, eyes ablaze with an otherworldly fury that shook Elsa to her core. "Because of you, my life is not my own anymore! Because of you, I had to kill Klaus! If you hadn't been so reckless with your powers, the land would not be hammering away at my sanity day in and day out! They wouldn't have chosen me!"

Elsa and the rest of the onlookers stilled at his outburst, afraid to move a muscle.

Hans stopped his attempts at grabbing Elsa, as if he realized his attempts were futile. His arms dropped to his sides in defeat. His monologue turned slightly inward, as if the people watching him were no longer there. "They wouldn't have sent me away from home. They wouldn't have seen my need for revenge for their little 'game.' They wouldn't have played my weaknesses." He closed his eyes and rubbed at his eyes with the palms of his hands, shoulders sagging in submission.

Then, he clawed at his chest, grabbing at the clothing on top into his fist. A look of surprise and agony flashed across his face, an outcry of pain escaped his lips. He sank to the ground, still holding his chest and eliciting tortured gasps.

Kristoff was the only one who dared to speak.

"Is he... having a heart attack?" he inquired. "Should we do something?"

"I... I don't know what to do. I've never dealt with one before," Rapunzel responded after a few moments, voice rife with alarm and uncertainty. "Get... get a doctor! Quickly!" she ordered the servant that escorted Elsa. The servant bowed hastily and clambered out of the dungeon.

"Make it stop, please," Hans pleaded softly, shuddering with each word, tears streaking down his face.

Would-be murderer, or not, Elsa didn't feel right just standing around while watching someone suffer. It also didn't help that she wasn't sure if he was still acting. How horrible a situation to be in, having someone who could help you being unsure enough to even try.

"Prince Hans," she called out to him, standing in front of the cell. "Hans, a doctor is coming to help you. I-I think if you were to lay down, it would prevent you from getting more injured if you end up passing out. Can you do that?"

At the sound of her voice, Hans' head shot up, disbelief hidden underneath the grimace of pain.

"W-why are you helping me?" he huffed out. He made no move to follow her suggestion.

"I would want someone to do the same for me."

He laughed weakly, a morose sound that didn't sit well with Elsa.

"This isn't a heart attack, I assure you," he coughed out. "Just a little battle for my sanity, is all." He grinned as if it were the best joke he had ever told – or that he was hiding something. For all she knew about Hans, it could easily be both.

"I'm here, Your Majesties," the doctor said as he barged into the dungeon, a leather satchel at his side. "Where is he? How long has it been?"

Elsa stood away from the cell and gestured to it, saying, "It's been a few minutes since it started."

"I'm going to need it unlocked, Your Majesties."

"He's dangerous!" Anna warned, wringing her hands in worry.

"How am I supposed to help him if I'm out here, Your Highness?"

Flynn pulled out a ring of keys and handed it to one of the guards, who then unlocked the cell. The doctor rushed into the cell, kneeling by the prince, the guards following suit. He rummaged through his satchel, pushing aside unneeded remedies. The doctor pulled out a vial of liquid and uncorked it.

"You need to drink this, it should help with the chest pain," the doctor said, offering the vial. Hans reached out and slapped the container out of the doctor's hand, causing it to clatter to the ground, spilling its contents.

The change in Hans was sudden, it was apparent the pain was no longer ailing him. His eyes were feral, swirling with an unbridled fury that stunned the doctor to where he was. Hans roared in anger, leaping to his feet and tackling the doctor to the ground. The two guards rushed at him, trying to protect the doctor, but Hans dodged their advances, the medic still caught in his grip. Hans pulled out a bag that was attached to the belt of his pants and tossed a handful of its contents at the doctor and the two guards before setting it on the floor.

The three of them fell to the ground, writhing in agony. Hans cackled darkly, its sound sending shivers down everyone's spines.

Elsa had to cover her ears to protect them from the tormented screams. Her feet were rooted in place, not quite believing what her eyes were telling her was happening. Were they... glowing?

Hans stretched out a fist toward the open cell door – why had nobody closed it yet? Why wasn't she reacting? – his attention still on the doctor at his mercy. Elsa heard movement behind her, and dove out of the way when she saw the scythe flew from its perch against the wall into Hans' hand. He pulled off the cloth covering to reveal its glowing blade, a wicked smile never leaving his face.

What was going on? Since when had he been able to do that?

The doctor cried out in fear when Hans arced the scythe at him, its blade passing through his glowing body. Then, the doctor went limp, the light around him wafting into the air. Hans turned his attention to the whimpering guards, doing the same to them, severing their lives short with one swing.

There was a lot less blood than Elsa expected. Practically none, which was impossible.

Elsa, finally finding courage to move, shut the cell door and froze it in place, effectively preventing Hans from attacking everyone else.

###

The battle in Hans' mind was still waging, but he continued to fight even when he no longer knew what was going on around him. He felt that he had finally won, especially when the pain had eased, and the voice stopped chanting at him. He took a deep breath, relishing in the freedom. He almost forgot how it felt to not have his sensations and thoughts bombarded with the demands of the land.

He opened his eyes.

Oh, how he wished he hadn't.

The doctor that tried to help him laid still at his feet, the guards accompanying him not too far away in similar states. In his hands, the scythe gleamed its wicked blade at him, and his bag of pixie dust lay on the floor, some of its contents spilled out as if it was dropped from a short height.

The edges encompassing the door to his cell were lodged in ice. His onlookers gaped at him with shocked expressions.

Well, he did warn them by way of Klaus' example, among other things. Admittedly, he wasn't quite forthcoming with all the information earlier. The subtle – and not-so-subtle, he noted with distaste – hints he shared should've tipped them off that something like this would happen. That fault was on them, not on him. He could at least rest easy at night knowing that. Though maybe the torment he faced before killing the three wouldn't let him off easy.

"You're looking at me like you didn't see this coming," Hans quipped, donning the act of the compliant, charming prince. He hoped in doing so, he wouldn't tip them off to how much this was bothering him. His earlier ravings might show that it did bother him to some degree if they connected the dots correctly, but he wasn't going to give them the advantage to know the extent of his discomfort.

Which was very, very much perturbed. The way the two sisters looked at him also added to his disquiet; they looked at him like he was a monster.

In hindsight, he supposed that he had become a monster, at least in the general populace's eyes, but for them to feel that way? After all they did to ruin him? Now that was just plain unfair. Fate wasn't even trying at this point.

"... Seriously?" the blond-haired man that constantly doted on Anna said. Kristoff, if his memory served him correctly. "Where would you get that idea?"

"You tell me," Hans said, shrugging. "I'm sure my previous outbursts didn't at least allude to the possibility. I do apologize for not reigning in my temper earlier."

"If you call that a temper, I'm afraid to see what you call an outburst."

"Outbursts are always something that people fear."

"Yeah, but are you even a person?"

Hans blinked once. "I beg your pardon?"

"Cut the polite act, it's not gonna work on me."

"I fear that I quite enjoy this 'act'."

"Stop trying to control the conversation. Now, are you even human?"

"What makes you think I'm not?"

"No normal human should be able to move that scythe from across the room without touching it, for starters."

That would explain why he had it in his hands. Though it was still more likely he probably walked out of the cell to retrieve it.

"I assure you that I am a normal human being."

"Nope, try again. Use more appropriate words, since normal people don't do what you just did."

"Alright. I am human."

"Then care to explain to the rest of us what in the world just happened? How could you kill those people without so much as a reaction?"

"Is this not a reaction?"

"It's – gah, you're infuriating."

"I've been told as much in the past. I see why Anna took a liking to you. So sensitive, too caring. Worked like a charm for me in the past."

Anna made a move as if to defend Kristoff, who held her back with a hand on her shoulder.

"I can handle him, Anna," Kristoff said to her, voice calm. "He can't get to me." Then, back to Hans, "You're still beating around the bush. Can't you just answer? It might save you an execution."

"And who are you to have any say in my punishment?"

"The exact person that you should be worried about," the king said from his perch beside his queen. "He seems to be handling himself very well. We'll decide upon how he feels about you."

"Yeah, and I'm feeling a bit tie-you-up-for-the-rest-of-your-life right now," Kristoff said, arms crossed.

Hans considered his options, which weren't very many at this point. Withholding information didn't seem to work in his favor. In fact, it just exacerbated the problem. But if he told them everything? They would kill him, or tie him up just as Kristoff threatened. The former was the more preferred, though he wasn't quite ready to die yet. But if they realized that doing so would anger forces beyond their power? The latter seemed to be the better option for them, since they wouldn't have his death on their minds, and run a lower risk of more people dying because of him.

Living out the rest of his life trying to combat madness? No, he would give in and wouldn't be able to have any control over himself within a month at most. A prisoner in his own mind for the rest of his existence, experiencing tormenting agony all the while. That was a fate worse than death.

And it seemed that choice weighed heavily on what the blond man wanted. There goes his plans of winning over the king and queen. Kristoff didn't seem like one to play these social games. And the man seemed painfully observant, so there was no chance in leaving out any information.

"So, you gonna cooperate?" Kristoff asked when Hans didn't show any indication of speaking anytime soon.

"As long as you will hear me, since it's quite a long story, and I don't want to bore you."

"Just don't lie, and I think we can manage."

Hans' shoulders sagged and he placed the scythe on the ground, his faux confidence melting away and leaving him weary. He sat on the ground, cross-legged, and set his hands on his knees.

"So, where shall I begin?"

###

As Hans started his long explanation, no one made a move to remove the bodies in Hans' cell, even when the man dragged the corpses to the front of the enclosure for them to retrieve. The sight before him looked gruesome.

Kristoff couldn't believe what he was hearing. Pixies? Did he hear that right? And that one of them put some kind of curse on him to "feel the land's anger" and motivate him to being the "Grim Reaper?" All for the reason that they thought it would be fun? Kristoff noticed that, either because Hans didn't know or because he didn't want to say or that he simply forgot to mention it, why the land felt angry wasn't mentioned.

He shuddered at the explicit detail of how Hans' brother Klaus experienced being his first victim. If that's what pixies thought was fun, he hoped he would never garner the attention of such beings in his lifetime.

If it weren't for the fact that he witnessed said reaping firsthand, he would've deemed Hans hopelessly insane. He could see how frustrating it was for Hans to word things in a way to not drive his listeners away; and from the tells Anna and Elsa gave while listening to the tale, they weren't expecting an inarticulate mess of a man that was known to be confident and exact in his words.

"But... that doesn't explain how you did that with the scythe," Elsa pointed out after she added the events that happened in the cell, since it seemed that he wasn't fully aware of what happened.

"To be honest, I don't quite understand it myself. They just left me to deal with it on my own as soon as I made it here. If any of you could give me new information about my situation, please, I'd gladly take it," Hans said, done with his recount of events. "Though that bit of information doesn't sit well with me. The pixie said she would give me power, but she wasn't really forthcoming about what she meant by that."

Hans raised a hand, a look on his face as if he were considering something. He reached out to the harvesting tool in front of him, but not touching the instrument, his hand a foot away from its handle.

"I mentioned that I feel a tug toward this thing, didn't I?" Hans asked, concentrating on the scythe. "I wonder if I..." He curled the fingers of his outstretched hand into his palm. The scythe angled up and its handle was now in his grip, as if it was pulled up with strings like a marionette. As soon as the wooden handle was in his hands, Hans dropped it in surprise.

"Not doing that again," Hans remarked, rubbing a hand against his chest. "That hurt too much to be of any use to me."

"Really? You're gonna go on another killing spree so soon?" Anna asked, hiding behind Kristoff. Kristoff wrapped a protective arm around her, knowing that Hans and his chest pain didn't lead to good things.

"No, no, it just felt like my heart was getting ripped out when I did that. Usually when the land is angry and calls for a sacrifice, it's more of a burning sensation accompanied by the chanting. This, however, feels exactly how I said it feels: like something was being ripped out."

"That brings up a question I have," Kristoff said, remembering his observation from earlier. "Why is the land angry in the first place?"

At this, Hans' expression darkened, earlier discomfort from moving the scythe forgotten. He pointed an accusing finger at Elsa, who stepped back in alarm.

"This is your fault," Hans seethed, though his voice was low and foreboding. "Because of your acts that brought winter in the middle summer a few months ago, the land died when it wasn't ready." He shook his head and closed his eyes. "The pixies considered you at first, but because they deemed you were such a good person, you would bore them with being predictable. Which is why they passed that burden onto me. After all, they said that since it was a human that caused all of this and that the land doesn't distinguish, why not?"

Kristoff's memories flashed back to when Hans lost his temper when he noticed that Elsa was with them, making the same accusation. Now knowing why, he felt sorry for the horrible man that was Prince Hans Westergaard. Still, there was a part of him that pointed out that the man had it coming with all the choices he made in the past. Regardless, he wouldn't wish such a fate on anyone.

Then, an idea flickered on like a spark to a candle wick. His family, maybe they could help? They were magical beings, and they had some roots to destiny and fate (though, admittedly, they were specialists in love above all else). It was worth a shot.

"Maybe my family can help out," Kristoff offered. Hans looked to him quizzically, while Anna and Elsa nodded in agreement.

"How could your family possibly help? It's not like they're magical like the pixies. Though maybe if they're like Elsa, perhaps," Hans said, standing from his position on the floor and crossing his arms.

"They're trolls."

"Now you're just taunting me. Don't do that unless you've got a death-wish."

"He's telling the truth," Anna said. "Though why would we ever bring you back to Arendelle?"

"Isn't that reason enough? Make it so that I'm useless to the pixies, or appease the land for good, or whatever solution they may come up with, and this whole nightmare is over. Maybe even punish me afterwards, if you prefer. Everyone wins."

"Except you," Kristoff said.

"Oh, you're feeling sorry for me now?"

"Unlike you, Kristoff has a conscience. So what if he does? He's not a bad person for it. Besides, he's the one helping you for some reason. At least show a bit of gratitude," Anna bit back.

"Queen Elsa, how do you feel about this?" Kristoff asked. He was never sure if he was allowed to drop formality when speaking to his fiancé's sister, but he knew that she would prefer not to be called "Your Majesty" by him. He still needed work with his social graces. Man, falling in love with someone of royal blood was complicated. But doing it for Anna made it tolerable and worth all the headache.

Elsa stood still, hands rubbing together.

"I'll need a few days to consider this," she responded, her eyes gazing off into nowhere.

Author's Note: I don't know about you, but I've never written this much in such a short span of time before. I think I spent at least twelve hours straight trying to type out the last two chapters. Twelve hours each. Yeah, not good for my well-being.

I'm telling you this, because I'm actually not a powerhouse of writing, and words don't come too easily to me, so if it seems like I've dropped this story at any point, I didn't. I'm just in the middle of typing out the next chapter as soon as one is relatively edited and posted to try to get the story out to you guys as soon as possible.

See, kids? This is what happens when you write without much planning beforehand.

Gosh, so much death... what have I gotten myself into?

Thanks to everyone who left such nice reviews!