Author's Note: Another fight scene warning, and another request to please tell me if the rating should be changed. I'm really not sure if it's because it's really graphic this time, or it's just my own queasiness about a particular type of injury occurring in the fight scene. Oh, and a trigger warning for brief mention of the murder of children and their loss of innocence.
Dark, dark, dark.
Agh, this chapter might actually be the one that pushes this fanfic's rating into M territory. I'm just so reluctant to change it because I'm not sure if it's because I'm sensitive to a lot of things that I feel like even the littlest things are graphic, or if the rating change really is warranted. I'm just in denial that I could actually write things graphic enough to be only read by adults. But I won't have any questions about it if anyone were to tell me that I need to change the rating. That would happen ASAP, I assure you.
Relationship Issues
The months leading up to the wedding went by well.
Too well, if you were to ask Hans. Nothing worthwhile to note had happened in the preparation months, since everything had been going according to plan. His audition went rather well, though Anna still insisted that he needed a bit more work and forced him to practice his piece as she played the accompaniment on the piano. It was a traditional Arendellian folk song, if he remembered the details correctly.
Other than that area of the wedding preparations, sending the invitations? Done, and all guests accounted for without any issue. His brothers' arrival ensured? Completed through the little addendum to their invitation. Being bored out of his wits when he had to watch Anna and Kristoff discuss itinerary and color and "No, having six courses of chocolate in a seven-course dinner isn't appropriate" and having Kristoff plead with him to back him up on that statement? Accomplished as expected. The land kept at bay with the completed executions of criminals, one by one, when commanded to? Yes, even that went by without incident.
Well… sort of. The people of Arendelle were in outrage since they were done almost every day. There were some whispers among them that believed that he was tarnishing their good queen's courtyard by making it into a slaughterhouse. But what else could he do? Risk going mad and lack the ability to distinguish killing innocents from killing those that deserved it? Still, the fact that the sacrifices were needed more often was probably something to worry about. It should worry him more, and every logical fiber in his being knew he should be more careful.
But it was as if all the anxiety flew out the window – along with all sense of reason, it seemed – with every moment he spent alongside the queen when she saw it fit to relieve him of having to wait on the soon-to-be-wed couple. Most of the time, he was with her in the throne room as she listened to Arendelle's citizens, being asked every so often of his opinion on matters when there was a lull in the visits. At first, he wasn't quite aware of her intentions for doing so (maybe it was the sensation of butterflies in his stomach?), but he became aware of the fact that she did it to get to know him better.
He didn't outright admit that he knew, since it might dissuade her to stop (there was still that bit about himself that enjoyed attention, but fortunately it was more properly guided), so in the very least he decided to reciprocate the gesture.
After all, it was only polite to know a person if they helped to turn one's life around.
He found out the queen was a lot less emotionally secure than he had originally thought, contrary to her natural ability to rule and stick to her word and whatnot. They were similar in the way that they kept mostly to themselves, showing only what was needed and not what was implied. The only difference was that Elsa was more practiced in dealing with it in a healthy manner. He finally understood the meaning of having him borrow the violin. Despite his misgivings with the instrument, he did feel a little more composed after bowing a few notes when he was alone with the music, not having to please the ears of anyone else.
If he were to be completely honest, the moments he shared with the queen were his favorite parts of the day, an outcome he would have never expected to happen after his first disastrous visit to Arendelle. While Hans might see a deeper meaning in their interactions and that possibly the queen didn't, at least he would rest assured with the fact that the two of them were intellectually equal. The two of them could keep up with conversations on the nuances of social structure and hierarchy, history and the lessons it taught, and other such subjects that Princess Anna had stuck her tongue out in distaste when she eavesdropped one time.
"You two are so boring, you find boringness to be fun," the princess had remarked.
All in all, the short, friendly conversations – at least in the queen's part, Hans was a lovesick puppy whenever he spoke with her – they shared were like a balm to the sores of his soul; her purity of character an oasis in the desert that was Hans' past lack of romantic affections.
And it was saying something if he used such disgustingly flowery metaphors to describe his feelings for the queen, because he did not do things like that. Absolutely not.
In all his years, never once had Prince Hans fallen in love with anyone before. But it appeared when his time came, he would fall hard. Curiouser still, he didn't even care if she didn't feel the same. Even if the queen only came to see him as a friend in the end, he did promise himself that admiration from afar would be okay. He just never wanted the happy feeling to end, even when he knew that it would soon come to pass.
But who would blame him? The misery that he was forced to live, the burdens that came with witnessing the light leaving a person's eyes each time he performed an execution, the darkness that surrounded with his uncertain future – the relaxing months he spent in Arendelle leading up to the wedding celebration were the best he'd had in possibly his whole life.
Sure, the days lacked flavor in how routine they became, but it was still better than how things could've been.
Yes, things were going a bit too well. The pixie hadn't made another appearance, despite how "boring" he'd become, as was her promise. So far. And despite the near-daily ritual of soul sacrificing, there wasn't a shortage of dangerous criminals to execute. Arendelle was upset with him, yet they didn't act out in their anger.
Things that could've easily went wrong just… didn't. Hans constantly wondered to himself what would be the event that would mess up the routine.
And so, his answer then came in the form of his brothers coming in a rickety merchant ship a week before the wedding. Their surprise arrival was handled in the queen's meeting room, where his siblings met with Arendelle's royal family along with Kristoff, himself, and the guard. Due to their untimely arrival, the docking of their ship was met with little fanfare and his brothers were secreted into the castle, a horrendously difficult feat the guards were able to handle in the brightness of the summer day.
King Pieter had finally finished detailing the events that led to half of his family making their exodus from the Southern Isles, which were as horrific as Hans had feared. There was yet another attack, but this time it was inside his family's castle, but Anders' officers were prepared and on-duty to aid the castle guards when the incident occurred, so no one had died.
They didn't escape unscathed, however. Fortunately, most of their injuries consisted of minor bruises and scrapes. Unfortunately for the twelfth-born Aleksander, he lost a few fingers. The hand that received the sudden amputations were still covered in bandages, a bit of blood still soaking through the material.
Even more worrying was the fact that the attackers escaped, and his family took that as a cue to flee in secret. King Pieter left the next-in-line Prince Holger in charge of the kingdom while they were away.
And so there they were in Arendelle, sharing uncomfortable glances and stares with their youngest brother after the king finished the tale.
"So uh, care to introduce us?" Anna asked Hans, oblivious to the tense atmosphere surrounding the Westergaard siblings. Hans sighed and wondered why he still worried for them despite still disliking their guts. Familial relationships had to be the strangest force out of everything.
"His Royal Majesty Pieter Westergaard the Second, King of the Southern Isles," Hans said with as much snide bravado he could muster, holding out his hands to present his eldest brother to the hosts. He added sarcastically, "Wrangler of the most unruly brood of princes you'd ever meet."
Pieter gave Hans a nasty look to reprimand him. The younger just rolled his eyes and gestured to the next-oldest brother that was present.
"Prince Magnus, third-born, and yes, he sleeps with his sword at his side." He directed everyone's attention to the saber that hung from his brother's belt. "Also known as 'Prince of Paranoia' in the household."
"It's kept us alive so far, so it's a title I hold dear to my heart, baby brother," Magnus retorted.
"But not at near as you coddle that blade, older brother," Jakob cracked. Christian whooped and gave Jakob a high five.
"Numbers six and seven are the twins Prince Jakob and Prince Christian," Hans continued, ignoring staring contest that started between Jakob and Magnus, the latter participating in the activity with intense ferocity. At hearing their names, the twins turned to the Arendellians and gave synchronous slight bows of their heads, cutting the battle of nerves short. "But we all agree that it's just easier to call them Ib and Ian when they're together, since it's hard enough to differentiate the two."
"Aw, you remembered our pet names," Ian (Christian) gushed mockingly.
"Have you been receiving poetry lessons while you were away? You've suddenly acquired the knack for using poetic license," Ib (Jakob) teased. "I always knew you were a romantic."
At the off-handed mention of "romance," Hans felt his cheeks redden, to his horror, and had to avert his face to keep his more-observant brothers from noticing. Unsurprisingly, that failed terribly.
"Ah, so cold-hearted Hans fell in love at last," Rasmus deadpanned. "A pity. I thought you gave up on altruistic emotions years ago, though it wouldn't surprise me to see you killing the unlucky gal in the end."
"Insinuate something like that again, and I'll make sure you don't wake up tonight," Hans threatened with a dark glare. Rasmus shrugged and leaned back in his chair, face as still as stone.
Anna coughed into her hand, "Patience."
Hans grumbled but pushed the anger aside for now. "Prince Rasmus, ninth in line. Don't let his stoic demeanor fool you into thinking he has anything worthwhile to say."
The twins sputtered out in obnoxious guffaws and reached out to give Hans high fives. Not seeing why the two imbeciles found the remark so hilarious, he scowled at them to dissuade their strange habit to congratulate another whenever they heard or saw something humorous occur. Seeing their youngest brother's reluctance to join in their antics, they high-fived each other instead.
Hans had to resist the growing urge to high-five his own forehead. Tempting. Oh so very tempting. Those two were already thirty, but they composed themselves like ten-year-olds.
Which brought him to the last two brothers, the ones that were involved in pretending he was invisible for two years. Also known as the least-mature out of all of his siblings in his books.
"Next is Prince Elias, the eleventh-born, and Prince Aleksander, number twelve."
There were quite a few choice words Hans wanted to say about the brother closest to him in birth order. That he was a weakling of no will of his own, that the only action "ol' Sander" would ever take was if someone else would tell him to do it. A betrayer. A person you could never trust. The very reason why he spurned his family over the years. While Elias deserved just as much vehemence due to playing the "invisible game," him and Hans didn't have the history that existed between the twelfth and thirteenth.
A bead of sweat rolled down Aleksander's temple. Oh yes, it appeared that he knew what Hans wanted to say as well.
The choice to blow up and let this family watch the coming tirade had suddenly become alluring.
But for the benefit of the innocents (Elsa, Anna, and Kristoff), he thought it best to keep his mouth shut on the details.
Well, not all the details.
"Those two comprised of the team of three dunces that ignored me for two years," Hans said vehemently. "I wonder where in the world that ingenious idea came from."
"The 'dunce' who came up with that is dead, Hans," Elias reminded. "And you were the one that killed him!" Everyone in the room turned their attentions to Elias with looks that ranged from shock to admonishing disappointment.
Hans set his jaw, trying to stem the flood of emotions that threatened to overcome him at the memory. Aleksander stood from his seat and walked over to Hans, who stepped away to keep his distance. The hurt look in Sander's face jabbed at the barrier between calmness and hysterics Hans had hastily built, so he turned to exit from the meeting room.
"If I may be excused, Queen Elsa, I need to prepare for the execution today," Hans said tersely. The queen looked on in sympathy and approved his dismissal.
He thought he was able to make a clean getaway with the guard in tow until Aleksander caught up to him.
"Hans, please. Just stop," Aleksander pleaded.
"What, so you could betray me again?" Hans bit out, halting his steps against his better judgment.
"No! Never anything like that, never again."
"Then just leave me alone, I'm actually asking for it this time."
"Please, can't you give me a second chance to prove myself? I know that what I did in the past was wrong. I know that I shouldn't have let my need to fit in to influence me to follow Klaus years ago."
"You left me alone, Sander, when I needed you most. I trusted you! I thought you were there for me, I thought you were better than everyone else in the family, since you were the one with all those life-lessons and pep talks about courage and becoming the best man I could be. You were the only one that I thought believed in me, that understood me. But you know what you are?"
Aleksander cowed at the angry lash of words and admitted in a small voice, "I'm a hypocrite."
"Yes. You're a hypocrite."
"But I want to change that, Hans. Let me be there for you this time. I know that everyone else is upset after hearing that you were the one responsible for Klaus' death. Elias took the news the hardest, and he's still trying to figure out how he feels about the whole situation." He held up his bandaged hand, blood still seeping through. "I was a coward, before. But I don't want to be, Hans. It's stupid that, in order for me to realize it, I had to lose a few fingers. Please, give me one more chance. I don't want the hurt between us to continue any longer."
Hans' hard gaze softened at seeing his brother's injury, but the old wound in his own heart was reopened and stung. "I don't know if I can." Aleksander looked close to crumpling into himself at the verbal blow. Hans heaved a sigh and continued, "But I will try."
Aleksander's face brightened at the supplementary phrase.
"Despite everything, there is good in you," his brother remarked. "I couldn't be more proud."
"Stay for the execution, and I'm sure you'd change your mind."
"Don't say that, brother. I'm sure it's not as bad as you make it out to be. There's always a silver lining, right?"
Hans gave Aleksander a dirty look. He honestly didn't know what Hans was dealing with?
"I-I don't mean to say that this whole thing isn't dreadful, because it is," Aleksander sputtered. Another unimpressed stare from Hans. The older brother gulped. "I'm just trying to encourage you."
"You're out of practice. Just... go back to the meeting room before they start thinking that I murdered you."
Aleksander chuckled nervously and rubbed the back of his head with a quivering palm. "Uh, yeah. I'll... do that." Whether his strides to the meeting room was a lot more hurried than what would've been considered normal, Hans didn't make any indication that he noticed. He was glad to have his brother out of his hair for the time being.
"He seems like a rather pleasant person," George the guard said absentmindedly as he and Hans made their way to the dungeons.
"Things aren't always as they seem," Hans said, obliging the guard with small talk for once.
"I shouldn't be surprised. After all, at first you seemed nice, then you seemed evil. Now you seem stubborn and cold, but after following you around all the time, I know that you've got a soft side."
"Please don't say any more, Sir George" the prince huffed.
"As you wish, my liege," the guard said. "After all, actions speak louder than words. And it's quite obvious through your actions that you've become quite smitten with Her Majesty."
Hans groaned irritation. Of all the guards Elsa had assigned to watch him, why did it have to be George?
At least his company was much more preferred over the Westergaard brothers.
###
Back in the meeting room, Kristoff was incredibly tempted to join Hans, and by the looks on the two sister's faces, they were in the same boat as him.
As Prince Anders had explained when he was in Arendelle, the brothers were downright deplorable. Sure, they each carried themselves with an air befitting of royalty, and they behaved themselves when King Pieter was there.
But when he left to go search for Prince Aleksander when it seemed like he was taking a bit too long, the meeting room turned into a madhouse! The twins were utterly inappropriate, Magnus kept reaching for the handle of his sword for no real reason – he even drew it one time when the twins' annoyances got more volatile – which made Kristoff nervous, and Elias kept glaring at Anna and Kristoff in condescending looks. Elias tried to hide it with a friendly smile, but he wasn't as good as Hans when it came to pretending, so it didn't go past Kristoff's notice. Rasmus was… something else entirely. Was that man even human? Or a statue?
"So, Mister Bjorgman didn't put some kind of a hex on you?" Prince Christian asked Anna after the room's conversation landed on her engagement and upcoming marriage to Kristoff.
"What are you even implying? That my love for him isn't real?" Anna gasped, turning red in the face.
"He's just saying that after knowing him for a year, you get married? How long was the engagement? A month?" Prince Jakob asked, a mocking tone punctuating his words.
"Nine months, actually," Anna said, her fists clenching and unclenching. "And what business is it to you?"
"Not much, except that I'd rather attend a wedding where the couple actually ends up having a lasting marriage afterwards."
The princess looked at the twins in disgust and disbelief. Kristoff felt anger bubble up inside him at hearing the blatant disrespect of his fiancée and stood from his seat at the meeting table, his palms slamming against the top of the long, wooden table.
"Enough, you two!" Prince Magnus exclaimed, drawing his sword and gesturing to the twins. "You dare insult our hosts? Come, we should settle matters like men."
"What? Here? Right now?" Jakob inquired and quailed. Christian shared a similar expression.
"You know that if you could run your mouths at any time, I should be able to call for a settlement at any time as well."
"But it's two against one! How are those fair odds?" Christian argued. "It'll be a losing fight for you anyway."
"Mister Bjorgman will be my second." Magnus looked to the perplexed, blond ice-harvester. "After all, you insult his betrothed, you insult him."
Wait a minute… what? A second? A settlement? Odds? It sounded like some kind of duel was about to take place.
"He doesn't even have a weapon. Come on, Maggie, the poor sap won't be able to hold his own."
"Call me that one more time, and I'll make sure you and I handle that affront one-on-one."
"Enough! All of you!" Elsa blurted out, cutting her hand through the air in emphasis. The air around the room turned a few degrees colder, the occupants in the room (sans the queen) shivered at the chilly sensation. "Prince Hans had warned me of your in-fighting and bickering, and despite his warnings, I opened my kingdom to all of you for asylum. I suggest each of you remain on your best behavior while under my protection, else you will have to look elsewhere to seek refuge. There will be no duels, no disrespect to anyone else who resides in this castle, nor any attempts to antagonize Prince Hans. Disregard any of these boundaries I have placed upon each of you, and I will take it as an affront to my authority and all of you who won't follow them will be on the next boat away from this kingdom. Is this understood?"
"Yes, Your Majesty," came the brothers' response in unison.
"Now, remain silent as the king returns with Prince Aleksander, unless you want to bear witness to the reason why I've been called the 'Snow Queen.'"
Wow, that shut all of them up quite effectively. Kristoff had never seen the queen so authoritative with anyone before, since she was usually the mild-mannered, easy-going kind of monarch.
"A duel, really?" Kristoff asked Elsa when the silence in the room made him uncomfortable.
"I thought Prince Hans was exaggerating when he told me," Elsa sighed. "Turns out that he was wildly understating the truth."
"Ya think?" Anna grumbled. "I still don't know why I thought my idea was a good one anyway. These guys are terrible."
"We're still in the room, and we aren't deaf," Jakob said. Anna and Elsa gave him strict glares, which caused him to clamp his mouth tight into a straight line.
Oh boy. This was going to be fun.
Not.
###
Hans didn't know why today's particular criminal to be executed was getting to him. Despite his best efforts to distance himself from the "dirty work" of being an executioner (being distracted by Elsa helped in those matters), the man who haughtily crossed his arms, obviously trying to hide hysteria, in the cell in front of Hans had somehow found a chink in the prince's wall of apathy.
Was it because this man was the last of the assassins that killed all those servants and guards? Was it because the mystery surrounding the criminal's cohorts was never revealed to him? It certainly couldn't be the words that were spewing vehemently from the gutless convict. The condemned never really had anything worthwhile to say to their executioner.
It was a good thing that Hans had a vow of silence, since he himself had something to say to the criminal. At least, he felt like he did. Try to lie his way of out of having his soul ripped out? Seriously? Hans wasn't blind, he remembered the faces of those bloodthirsty assassins. And so did everyone else in that dining room that night.
Yet… somehow this one was different. Maybe it was due to the fact that this particular man was the one who suffered from Hans' curse? Regardless, he knew that this time, he would need a long break from executions for a while; the land's demands be damned.
"You're making a grave mistake," the convict threatened, glowering. "I know who you are, Prince Hans. I'm sure by now you'd have received word that some of your brothers have perished."
The criminal was blatantly misinformed of his brothers' safety, so Hans kept his face impassive, but something pulled him to cease his writing of the man's crime-details and last statements that Hans would later read aloud to the audience. It was after the first few executions that the judges requested that Hans write them himself, since the paperwork had greatly increased after the sudden need for more sacrifices.
It was alright for him, he supposed, since it meant that there wouldn't be any surprises waiting for him at the platform when it came time to announcing the misdeeds. Hans came dangerously close to wringing a man's neck with his own hands one time when he read that the despicable excuse for a human being had been convicted of breaking into an orphanage and murdering the children within, but not without robbing a few of their innocence before they died.
Disgusting. Horrible. Monstrous.
It was completely within his jurisdiction as executioner to change the punishment into crushing the man's windpipe, but Elsa had explicitly stated that they were not to suffer. Or if they did, then it would be brief. Also, performing an execution in such a barbaric manner would likely cause an even greater uproar in Arendelle, and that wouldn't go over well. There would definitely be conflict between those that believed the man deserved it and those that really hated Hans' guts despite the depraved nature of the condemned convict.
And the fact that the land would be without a sacrifice for a little longer was also a factor. Too risky.
"If you kill me, there will be no one left to take up the Order leader's mantle. We are the only ones that can stop chaos from reigning," the would-be assassin continued, bringing Hans back to the present. "If it weren't for the fact that you're so obviously love-struck with the queen, you would have been put down as soon as your identity was confirmed. Your family is too large to let the opportunity pass us by."
"What are you going on about, you halfwit? Prince Hans' brothers are fine," Sir George said.
Thank goodness for big-mouthed George and his lack of a vow of silence. Now he'd never be able to finish writing the document!
"No!" the man wailed. "You're lying! They couldn't have failed!" He uncrossed his arms and brought them to grasp at the sides of his head. Then he released his hold as his face lit up in an epiphany. "Unless... Yes. This time I'm sure."
"What? What are you so sure about?"
"The knowledge I possess will die with me, unless you let me go. The fate of the world depends on it."
Hans had enough of this nonsense. The criminal's statements had tied his involvement with the group of people that caused his brothers to flee, or at least it seemed that way. However, Hans wasn't an investigator or an inspector, nor was he trained to seek out ways to see if the man's words were true. For all the prince knew, the man was just trying to con his way out of his punishment, which was highly likely.
He might bring it up to Elsa later, but there was no way he was going to set the man free. No information was worth having a dangerous individual out in public, free to carry on with his old wrongs, right?
"Would you like to have your face covered or uncovered during the execution?" Hans finally asked.
At this, the criminal paled and gaped his mouth like a fish gasping for air.
"Did you not hear me? I must tell the others!" he pleaded.
Hans retained his apathy, giving him a look as if to say "I'm not going to repeat myself."
"You are a fool," the man persisted. "You must let me go."
"Nah, you see there, halfwit, neither of us can do that except for the queen," George stated.
"In that case, I'd rather die than to appease her," the criminal growled. "Don't hide my face, so the she can see the hate in my eyes as you kill me."
Hans sighed and rubbed his temples, the leather covering his hands scratching his skin. The headache that was building in intensity was definitely from the circus-like events that occurred so far.
It was going to be a long day.
###
"Elsa, you should really come listen to Hans' piece he's going to perform. I think he's got it down pat at this point," Anna said as she lounged in the sitting room with Elsa and Kristoff, nibbling at a cookie that was from a plate of them on the table.
"I think I should," Elsa said, a bit lost in thought. The meeting with Hans' brothers had ended a few hours ago and Hans himself was still busy trying to prepare the prisoner for execution. The Westergaards were situated into their rooms, separated accordingly as she had promised. There needed to be some accommodations for a few of the princes, namely an increase of the amount of guards that would make their rounds where they stayed. It was obvious that she couldn't trust the brothers not to physically maim one another without proper supervision, Prince Magnus in particular.
Did that man really need to have his sword with him at all times? Talk about paranoid. And considering their earlier behavior in the meeting room, it was no wonder each of them were still single.
"So… have you decided what you think about him?" Anna asked.
"Hm?" Elsa said, finally snapping out of her reverie.
"Really, Elsa? Prince Hans is so obviously attracted to you like a magnet, and you're leaving him – and everyone else, for that matter – wondering if you like him in the same way or not. C'mon, it's been months since his confession."
"Well, what do you think of him, Kristoff? Considering how informal you and him have gotten all of a sudden, you'd likely have a worthwhile opinion."
The two sisters looked to the ice harvester in expectation, the gentleman cringing slightly under their gazes.
"He's alright. I mean, he doesn't seem capable of stabbing anyone in the back anymore. I think it's mission accomplished?" Kristoff said. "You know, that whole reason why we had to rehabilitate him in the first place?"
"Oh, right. Well, I agree with Kristoff," Anna said. "While I still feel a bit iffy about him myself, I think he's not capable of causing mass destruction the way he is right now."
"I don't know," Elsa said, sinking into the cushioned back of the armchair she sat on to hide from the question somewhat.
A knock at the door, then and a scowling Hans carrying a violin case walked into the sitting room with a giddy Sir George trailing behind him with the scythe and a bag draped against his back. Elsa had to resist the urge to laugh at the contrasting display.
"Prisoner not cooperating?" Kristoff asked. Hans rolled his eyes and made a circular motion with a finger around his ear. "Oh, a crazy one, that sounds pleasant."
"I got Elsa to finally hear you play," Anna said, hopping from her relaxed position to skip to the piano at the corner of the room. "Hopefully you don't mess up this time, since I told her you got it down." She flashed an innocent grin in his direction.
"Thanks for the words of motivation, Princess Anna," Hans said sarcastically.
"Hey, you did fine the last practice," Kristoff encouraged. "Besides, it's just Queen Elsa, the very same person who brought out that violin for you."
"Look at you two, a match made in heaven," Hans remarked as he brought the violin out of its case and started tuning its strings. Anna played the corresponding keys on the piano to check his pitch every so often. When he was ready to play, he gingerly removed his left glove and tucked it into the inside pocket of his coat.
As Anna had pointed out in the past, Hans' notes were shaky, but it seemed that she didn't know it's underlying reason. Elsa saw that he was tense, nervous as he drew out the notes from the violin. It reminded her so much of when she was being coronated, having to remove her gloves while in front of a huge crowd of possible witnesses to the exposure of her powers. She almost called for the performance to stop when she realized that Prince Hans was getting lost in the music and was a lot calmer.
It appeared that Elsa's suggestion that he take up a more creative outlet had worked.
The piece he performed was lively, even more so when she and Kristoff started clapping along to its beat and Hans came to a part of the music where the dexterity of his hands were tested by playing a long string of notes in rapid succession. The wide grin on Hans' face when he finished the piece brought Elsa to return with an even wider one.
"Okay, so I think you two might have been onto something," Hans said after stretching his worked fingers and slipping the glove onto his hand once again. "But now I want to see what you've got, Bjorgman."
"What?" Kristoff said, mouth agape as Hans waved at Sir George. The guard pulled out a lute from the bag he carried and tossed it into the arms of the unwitting ice harvester.
"I made a quick stop to get this thing before coming here. I can't be the one hogging all the duet time with your soon-to-be wife when she's got a perfectly capable musician as a fiancé."
"I've never… but… Anna and I…" Kristoff looked to Anna in apprehension. "The lute isn't—"
"Hey, that sounds fun! Great idea you've got there!" Anna said, clapping her hands.
"You're terrible, Hans," Kristoff grumbled.
"I have you to blame for that, mister parole officer," Hans said, winking, as he put away the violin inside its case.
"Don't worry, Kristoff. We'll play something slower, so you can get your bearings," Anna persuaded.
After a bit of getting the two situated with the unusual pairing of instruments, they finally decided on a song to try out.
And, of course, it just had to be a love song. Elsa would be surprised if they didn't make such a song choice, since it seemed like it was the only kind of music that surrounded Kristoff and Anna every time they were together.
It was still beautiful to listen to, despite the strange stirrings of emotion she felt when Anna and Kristoff started to sing along to the music. Prince Hans seemed to be enjoying himself as well, his eyes closed and swaying slightly to the rhythm.
And then, out of nowhere, Hans reached out a hand to the queen, asking her to dance with him.
"I don't dance," Elsa said, her cheeks turning pink at the question. "I never learned."
"That's okay, I can teach you," he assured, an innocent look on his face. "Better late than never, right?"
"Loosen up a bit, Your Majesty," Sir George urged. "Dancing never hurt anyone."
Whether it was due to not wanting to hurt the prince's feelings, or the persuasion of the guard, or the mood Anna's and Kristoff's music was setting, or maybe even some part of her that she hadn't quite analyzed properly; something brought the monarch to take Hans' hand in her own and stand from her settee.
After a bit of guidance of where her hands and feet should be and constant reassurances that she was doing fine, they danced.
Okay, Elsa shouldn't put it in such cold terms.
They danced, and it was like the world around her was gone, her only focus was the man waltzing with her, his voice a low hum as he encouraged and corrected her movements in the dance. Her chest clenched as a feeling of shyness overcame her when she looked into his eyes, watching as their corners wrinkled as he smiled.
He was so close. He was holding her. He was… a really wonderful dancer.
Was this… was this what Anna kept pestering her about? Was this the feeling she wanted to make sure did or didn't exist?
He twirled her around, and she laughed as he caught her when she stumbled a bit.
Funny, the Snow Queen of Arendelle, bearer of magic that could curse the land into eternal winter, was happily making a fool of herself dancing with a man that would've killed for her crown.
Sometimes, life just liked to turn things around in strange ways.
###
Hans didn't know what came over him. It was just music, and he'd heard the betrothed couple sing the same song to each other before without the instrumental accompaniment to it.
But it was like adding Queen Elsa into the equation created a sense of boldness in him, driving him to make a request to dance with the queen, despite his past timidness and desire to avoid actively pursuing his obvious crush on Arendelle's ruler.
Irrational, right?
Whatever it was, his heart felt like it leapt out of his chest when Elsa actually agreed to dancing with him. Maybe he shouldn't be so rough on Sir George after helping to coax the queen.
As long as the guard didn't let whatever was happening in the sitting room out to the rest of the castle's workers, that is. A queen dancing with a servant? Maybe that wouldn't be so bad since Elsa didn't seem to be the kind to elevate herself so far above those that she ruled over. But specifically, with an executioner? A person who wanted to kill her?
Let it go, Hans, he thought to himself as he and Elsa stepped to the music. Just let it be. You don't have to have control over anything.
After convincing himself to do just that, he relaxed and enjoyed the company of the woman he was dancing with. So what if Elsa didn't feel the same way? So what if their past wasn't terrific?
All that was happening in the sitting room was one friend teaching another to dance. Innocent. Harmless.
However, it seemed the queen was a little less composed in her emotions than usual, ice radiating out of her feet as they spun to the music. He didn't notice it was happening, and neither did the queen it seemed, until he stepped on a patch of ice and slipped, pulling Elsa down with him as he fell to the floor.
"Oh my! I'm so sorry!" Elsa gasped as she helped him up.
"It's fine, it looks like we just got carried away, Your Majesty," he laughed as he tried to brush off the clumsy event that cut their dancing short. However, a sensation of an arc of lightning shot through his spine and it felt like a thousand hidden eyes were staring at him.
Why does your heart go to another? a voice called in his head. Does it not belong to me?
The voice of the land… Why did it suddenly gain a sudden interest in him specifically all of a sudden? Of all the things it had ever said to him, it never said anything as if it was a one-on-one conversation. If the claustrophobic sensation of a presence all around him was anything to go by, the land was even looking directly at him.
He tried to push past the otherworldly presence bombarding his awareness and noticed that the queen was holding onto him lightly as she voiced concerns of his well-being, and that Kristoff's and Anna's playing had ceased. He saw the scythe in Sir George's possession and immediately grew anxious at the sight of it.
Hans tore himself away from Elsa's concerned grasp, grabbed the bladed tool from the guard's hands, and haphazardly tossed it out of the sitting room and shut the door, leaning against the wooden barrier as if it would protect him from the potential danger the scythe possessed.
You did not kill her when I commanded. Does Fate's hold over humanity protect your will from mine? the land sounded in his head. Are you going to betray me as my children had long ago?
It was weird hearing the foreign voice that had become so familiar to him lately without the burning hate and anger that usually accompanied it. Or even that one-time feeling of freezing and fear a few months back when the French dignitary came to visit. No, this time, the land was… hurt? Confused?
Were those even the land's feelings? Or were they his own?
"Prince Hans, are you alright?" Elsa asked, inching her way towards him with hesitant steps.
"I'm going to need a moment," Hans replied and warded away another further attempts to help him from the queen with a dismissive wave of his hand. He closed his eyes, waiting for the moment to pass, for the nonexistent eyes to turn away from him. Then, when it seemed like the coast was clear, "I think we've delayed the execution long enough, don't you agree?"
###
If it were even possible, Prince Hans' bad day had gotten even worse. The wonderful, beautiful moment he shared with the queen was almost forgotten entirely.
The usual burning sensation in his chest had increased, but it wasn't too worrying since the condemned prisoner was scheduled to be sentenced and executed within a few hours.
Scheduled, but it didn't happen because the wretched man had died in his cell before Hans was even able to bring him from the dungeon. The causes of the man's death wasn't apparent, nor were there any witnesses to his passing. Due to this, Hans brought it upon himself to lock himself away in this quarters to protect the others from the danger his chest pain harbored. Luckily, Elsa understood this need and ordered for everyone to keep away from him for the time being.
It was going to be at least a few more days until the next convict was going to be sentenced, and there was no telling if that sentence was going to be death, either.
Hans was not going to let this fluke ruin the semblance of a future he had in Arendelle. He wasn't going to fall into madness and kill the people he had allowed to get close to him. They were resourceful. They could stop him when the time came.
If. If the time came.
A knock at his bedchamber door, and before Hans could turn away whoever was knocking from interrupting his solitude, Prince Elias barged into the room, the mechanism keeping the door locked completely busted.
This wasn't good.
"Hey, what's this going on about with pulling the queen's strings? You telling her that you need to be alone, and she listens to you? I thought you were her servant, not the other way around," Elias accused.
"Where are the guards? Shouldn't they be watching this room? Make sure people like you don't enter?" Hans growled. "Hadn't Anders told you about what I'm capable of?"
"He did, but you know me, I've never been one to fall for your acts."
"That's because you never listen! At least in Anders' case, he didn't believe one way or another unless there was evidence. In your case, you're always a skeptic."
"Well, you might have everyone else fooled, but I know the truth. You've gone completely mad, Hans. How is it that you've managed to get away with murder? You should've been hanged ages ago! Now you've got everyone going on about that you've 'changed' and that you're 'turning your life around.' Hah! You seriously think that's even possible within the span of a few months?"
"It is when you have a valid motivation, Elias. And I've got plenty, and it's enough for you to leave this room. Now."
"Oh, I'll leave, as soon as I'm finished dealing with the problem here."
"Elias, I love you and all, but this is not a good time to talk about whatever issues we still have with each other. Perhaps we can discuss this in a few days when I've got things settled."
"Talk? Who said anything about talking? No, after what you did to Klaus, I don't ever want to talk to you again." Elias' eyes started to brim with enraged tears as he pulled out a dagger hidden in his waistcoat.
Uh oh.
Hans flinched away from his brother when Elias reached for him.
"Elias! Stop! You don't want to do this!" Hans pleaded, ducking from a slash of the blade the eleventh prince wielded. With a kick, Hans pushed away Elias, interrupting another swing of the dagger from cutting into flesh. "Think about what you're doing!"
"Oh, I've thought about it, brother. I've thought, and thought, and thought. Very hard. So hard, that I couldn't think anymore," Elias cut, punctuating his words with jabs of the blade that Hans twisted just out of reach from. "And you know what I think? You should be dead, Hans. You are not going to get away with killing him."
Realizing that he wouldn't be able to talk his brother out of his homicidal intentions, Hans called out as loud as he could muster, "Guards! Intruder!"
"Can it, Hansy. No one is out there to save you."
"I don't want to hurt you."
"Well, go on then! I'm not afraid of you!"
Hans knew his hand was forced, and he didn't like it. He tugged off a glove as Elias continued to slash at him, actually managing get his forearm cut when his attentions were divided trying to accomplish avoid getting hurt by the dagger and his own cursed hand. He resisted the urge to clamp down on the wound, since that would mean his exposed hand would touch the gash.
Elias, knowing about the curse, grabbed the arm of the uncovered hand when Hans flung it in his direction and buried the blade into the younger's palm, the dagger's blade protruding from the other side.
Hans cried out in agony at the injury, his screams intensifying when Elias yanked the dagger out from his hand, blood gushing from the giant piercing. Blindingly incapacitated by his wound, he was helpless when Elias brought the dagger to Hans' throat.
He was going to die. Oh God, he was going to die.
Elias chuckled as he brought the blade away from the jugular and slashed at Hans' shoulder.
"Wow, this was too easy. I almost don't want this to end," Elias chuckled darkly. "Don't pass out on me just yet as I release some pent up frustrations, alright, baby brother?"
Another slash, another wound, another slice; each one brought Hans closer and closer to helplessness as he collapsed in dizziness at the agony of all the injuries his brother was adding to him. He could no longer fight back as the blood loss weakened him.
At then, the feeling of stares were back, boring into him from their invisible locations. He knew Elias couldn't sense them since he didn't stop in his torturous assault. A pity. There was a brief moment of hope that maybe the new developments in the pixie's curse on his heart would save him. At least the dagger-wielding prince was holding out on delivering the fatal stroke. For now.
It looked like he was out of luck, if he even had any to start with.
You cannot perish. You are still needed, the land said to him, its displeasure thrumming through his chest.
"Looks like you can't do anything about that," Hans said aloud as the edges of his vision started to fade, a feeble laugh escaping him when he realized his statement would be an appropriate response to both Elias and the land.
And finally, when it seemed like the nightmare would never end, the world went dark for Prince Hans.
Author's Note: Wow! This chapter went a lot longer, which was as expected since I tried to cram a whole bunch into it. It's certainly the longest chapter that I've written so far. Sorry for leaving you guys on a cliffhanger there. Trust me when I say this isn't the ending that I've got planned. It's not over quite yet!
And to reply to a review from earlier: hopefully the action in this chapter made up for the lack of it as of late. I've finally reached the point of the plot that has all the more-exciting scenes for me to write.
For the rest of you wonderful readers, this means that y'all ain't seen nothing yet. Muahahaha.
As for the romance in this chapter, hopefully it's to your liking, since I've honestly struggled with it for days trying to figure out how to write it out. This is the best I've got, sorry if it's lackluster.
More brother names:
Jakob (Ib) — Story: "Ib and Little Christina"; Character: Ib (which I found out was a nickname for Jakob, so I made that his actual name and the former his nickname)
Christian (Ian) — Story: "Ib and Little Christina"; Character: Christina (masculine switcheroo with the name, like Elias')
Aleksander (Sander) — Story: "Two Brothers"; Character: Anders Sandoe (Sandoe, Sander, close enough, eh? Sander as a nickname for Aleksander, and yup, name given.)
Thanks again to everyone that reviewed! It astounds me every day to know that people like you are taking their time to respond to something I wrote. It fills me up with all these gushy feelings. The good kinds, I swear.