~Review Responses~

Dreamsandimaginations- It's Hans' job to mess things up, as evident by his entire life. Thank you. :)

Miaka- Why, thank you! I love your writing, so it really brightens my day to see you leaving such a kind review. Yes, I usually space my chapters out by about 3 months, so that's why it appeared to be a oneshot. But no, I'm just a slow updater.
alsoselfdeprecationisinmynatureimalittlebitofafixerupper

Shlevznark- You're too kind! And yes, that is definitely true- nothing is "new" anymore, we all follow the same molds. I really appreciate the reminder, however. :) All of your questions shall be answered in due time.

Thank you Guest, Guest, Anomarlly, Buccaneers1, Gagon, and Fire Ruby for your kind words. I hope I can provide the story you're looking forward to! And remember, just keep writing~

One more thing: Keep in mind that Hans in an unreliable narrator. That's all I'm going to say about that.

The night waned on, its dark shadows obscuring the vivid colors that the valley possessed. A gentle breeze coiled through the trees, ducking and diving through the tangled branches and brushing against their shuddering leaves. Lightning bugs meandered through the valley, their smoldering lights passively flashing in the dark like a broken metronome. The moon regarded the gathering below with its gentle gaze, the otherworldly beams casting an ethereal glow onto the troll's oddly scaly skin.

Hans licked his parched lips and raised an unsteady hand to his hair, running his fingers through the greasy, unwashed tresses to rid them of the remaining ash. It had been a long time since he had last bathed, he thought absently, fixing his gaze upon the night sky. In the valley, where not a single lamp was lit, the distant galaxies twisted in and out amongst the stars, stretches of brilliant color swimming through a sea of black.

"Hans?"

His eyes flickered down to the trolls, who sat expectantly, twitching nervously as they awaited his answer. The children huddled into their parent's arms, hugging their stony elbows and snuggling into their sides with wide eyes. He frowned at them.

Hans glanced back up to the heavens and leaned back on his arms, his fingers curling into dry grass and clumps of dirt, brushing hurried ants away from his hands. He breathed a deep sigh, relishing the cool air, and drew his lips into a bitter smirk.

"I wish I had thought of that", he said casually, tilting his head onto his shoulder. A shooting star passed across the night sky, dazzling brilliantly like a freshly-cut diamond before it vanished into the abyss. The aurora borealis danced behind the mountains, whips of forest green and icy blue stretching out to touch the stars.

"Perhaps I should take notes from this oh-so-wicked witch. She seems to have rather exceptional ideas; don't you think?"

Grandpabbie's face fell, his mouth twisting into a disheartened frown. He shook his head sadly, gazing out to his clan with tired, apologetic eyes. The trolls simultaneously gawked, and a flurry of voices shot out into the dark, their hushed whispers and angry curses mixing into a jumbled mix of meaningless words.

Bulda scowled deeply, disregarding her husband's attempts to snatch up her wrist as she rose from her position across the fire pit. Her hands clenched into tight fists as she marched over to the disgraced prince, a look of a woman scorned set deeply into her stony face. She grabbed the man's chin, disregarding his surprised yelp as she tugged it down from its skyward gaze and stabbed a rock hard finger into his chest.

"You, sir, are despicable." She said, poking her finger deeper into his ribs with every syllable. They were level now, her standing height equal to his sitting height, their noses almost touching as she leaned in to glare at him.

He blinked, and for a second the rock woman could have sworn he was taken aback by the words, but as soon as the expression came to pass it was gone. The prince grinned, the sadistic humor of the situation not quite touching his eyes. "That, I realize. Which is why I must ask why you all want my help."

"Don't you understand?" Bulda hissed, shaking with the force of an earthquake, visible cracks appearing in her skin, "You're the only one who can! You are the only mortal being who is aware of the change in this life. And none of us fae-folk can do a thing against that witch; we trolls are already stretching it thin getting involved with mortal magic affairs. But to directly interfere with such a huge event? We can't. It's the rules of magic, and we must obey. You're the one who messed things up; you have to fix them."

Hans watched her steam, gently reaching out and pushing her finger from his ribs. He rubbed his chest with his knuckles, his gaze hard and blank against the pale moonlight.

"We're relying on you to fix things. You're the only who can make a change." Bulda said, her voice growing soft. The trolls nodded simultaneously, words of sugar-coated encouragement peaking up from a few less subtle individuals.

Hans glanced over Bulda's shoulder to look at them, their faces growing brighter with hope. The children clapped their tiny palms together, the sound akin to china plates rubbing against one another. He nodded, rubbing his beard with a scholarly look, regarding the trolls with an air of inquiry.

"Ah. I see what you're trying to do", he said, digging his heels into the ground and lifting himself onto his feet. Bulda took a step backwards, giving him room to stand, and he raised his chin into the air with a look of pure defiance. "You think you can play me like all your little subjects," he gestured to the clan, "feeding into my desire for self-worth. Well, expect no altruism from me." He shook his head, fixing his stare onto the ground as he felt a wave of something akin to guilt. He could see the children tearing up, their lips pulled into a grimace as they held back their sobs.

"No good deeds go unpunished, and I'm done dealing out mine. All I want is to start over."

Grandpabbie rose unsteadily to his feet, wobbling on his walking stick as he barreled forward. "You can", he said gently, "But if you allow this to happen- then you will never be able to start over. You think she'll keep the one person standing in her way alive?"

Something in his minuscule, black heart squirmed, and Hans wheeled on the old troll, eyebrows furrowed into a knot. "You said it yourself; I signed her contract. My life for my identity, she can't mess with that."

"At that particular moment, with that particular situation, no." he said, "But you are no longer bound to that life or that identity. You are, legally, no longer the you who died, the you who signed her contract. The you that was you is gone, and she may do whatever she pleases now."

Hans frowned. Laws? Morals? Magic was weird.

"So, it's a lose-lose situation. I die by her hand fighting, or die by her hand living."

"Not all hope is lost." Grandpabbie said, his soft voice peaking as he reached out to grab Hans' limp wrist. The rough, rocky scales rubbed on his bone, and he fought the urge to pull away. "You can still win this. If you choose not to fight, then she will devour your soul whole. But if you can be sneaky and destroy her plan- and we all know you're good at that- you can live in peace, with no strings attached."

Hans paused, shaking his head. "I never asked for this."

"Nobody did. Life is like that, unfortunately." Grandpabbie sighed, rubbing Han's hand in a comforting gesture. "But you can live, Prince Hans. You can live a peaceful, quiet life, one of great joy and worth. You don't need a kingdom for that." His eyes flickered mischievously over to the trolls, and he leaned in, his mouth crinkling with humor, "And between you and me," he whispered, "it's quite the pain to run a group of people. You go grey early." He chuckled, patting Hans on the back with his cane.

Hans attempted to grin, but it looked like he was holding in a bout of diarrhea instead. He heard Bulda let out an unconcealed snort behind him, and he briefly considered throwing something at her before he decided that in order to survive this ordeal he probably should avoid angering the trolls. Instead, he straightened up with a horrible crack of his knees like the proud prince he once was, and regarded the trolls with a look of regality.

"Alright. What do I need to do?"

The morning awoke with a bright and cheery grin, the sun's rays stretching over the mountains and casting warmth upon the valley. Hans rubbed the corner of his sleep-deprived eyes with a knuckle, using the palm of his other hand to force back a yawn. He knelt down next to a small pond, splashing the cool water onto his face and rubbing it vigorously into his skin.

"So," Bulda said cheerfully (far too cheerfully for how early it was), stuffing a bushel of potatoes into a ragged white sack, "you're going to need to stage something to get the Queen to, well, loosen up." She chuckled, holding out her hand in anticipation, and frowned.

"Are you boys still working over there?"

"We're trying, Miss!" one of the men yelled, wincing as the troll standing on top of his head adjusted his footing. Four of the tallest trolls were stacked on top of each other like building blocks in an attempt to reach a branch of low-hanging apples. The highest troll swiped at the leaves like an enraged cat, his stubby fingers barely grazing the bough. The men groaned.

"Well, hurry it up! He doesn't have that much time; I'd give it two, maybe three months at the most, and it'll take about a week just to get over to Arendelle."

Hans paused as he sipped water from his cupped hands. His eye twitched erratically, and he sputtered, choking on the liquid.

"Two months? Her powers shouldn't grow that much in two months! Are you crazy?"

"Oh honey," Bulda said in a condescending tone, "her powers will always grow, especially as she gets older. The difference is controlling them. You won't believe what stress and a bit of pushing from a witch can do to you. Don't think she won't interfere. If she can find a way to push Queen Elsa over the edge, she will do it and she will do it A.S.A.P."

"And besides," she continued, "it's been months since her coronation. You didn't travel back in time; the same time that passed in your cell has passed here. It has been about, ooh, roughly," she started counting on her fingers, an eggplant-purple tongue peeking out of her lips as she deciphered the basic math, "a year or two? Not sure, time doesn't quite pass the same way here as it does everywhere else. Y'know, magic." She waved her hands in the air, all the while ignoring Hans' jaw's slow descent to the ground.

"You boys about done? We ain't got all day! C'mon, we're losing daylight! Use those muscles, Cliff!"

The troll at the top of the stack paused, his eyes darting back and forth nervously as he set his face into a determined scowl. He crouched down, and digging his toes into the lower troll's head ("Ow, ow, ow") propelled himself upwards. His hands whipped out and he grasped onto the bough, the sudden weight snapping the branch off at the connection point- bringing troll, apples, and tree limb tumbling through the air. The other men, whom had fallen down with the sudden force of his jump, screamed and scrambled away from the oncoming avalanche. The troll and the tree branch crashed onto the ground into an unearthly heap, the apples rolling across the ground in all directions. Bulda sighed.

"That'll do, I suppose. Go see if we have any coin lying around to give to him; he won't be able to survive off of these pathetic rations."

"A year? Or two? I was in there for that long?" He had estimated around four months, what with the days and nights being difficult to count, but an entire year?

Or two?

"Yeah, congratulations on that by the way. Not sure how you survived that long; most don't last half of what you did." She smiled at him, not seeming to understand his current state of hysterics, "Good thing you're so good at living! Might make this next job easier, huh? Like my little Kristoff." She heaved a sigh, grabbing a bruised apple next to her feet and stuffing it into the sack. She rummaged through the items and suddenly paused, her head shooting up as she clapped her hands together. "Kristoff! Yes, you'll need to meet with Kristoff, he'll help you out for sure."

Hans frowned. "Kristoff?" The name sounded familiar. Maybe.

"My baby! Well, my adopted baby. And not an actual baby anymore, unfortunately. He's a real cutie, has a thing for reindeer which is kinda creepy, but he's as sweet and as strong as they get!" she twiddled her thumbs, cocking her head to the side with a thoughtful expression. "He'll probably be at one of the ice fields. I'll grab my map; he marks it down." She discarded the bag and hurried over to one of the troll burrows, disappearing down it in a matter of moments.

Hans watched her leave, and slowly started picking up the apples, his thoughts racing as he ignored the groans of the injured troll.

Two years? He had lost up to two entire year of his life in that little hole in the ground. The guards must have been feeding him better than he thought. Did that mean his family did care?

Well, he'd never know now.

After all, there were only twelve princes of the Southern Isles now.

Although, perhaps they had a different child, one that they actually cared about, who didn't mess things up and sneak down into dungeons and kill their mothers. A legitimate, well-behaved thirteenth child, not the dishonorable son that he was. Perhaps a daughter? They had always wanted a princess. . .

Hans' pity-party was rudely interrupted when a solid hand snatched up his ankle, tugging on it weakly. He gasped, nearly dropping the pile of apples that had accumulated in his arms as he kicked at the perpetrator. Sharp, unmanly squeals emitted from both prince and culprit as his foot connected with rock. He looked down to see the brave troll that had taken the downfall sprawled pathetically on the ground, face-down and holding a single red apple in his hand up to the man. Hans glanced at it nervously, then back at the half-dead troll before slowly reaching out, hastily grabbing it out of the troll's palm and pulling away from it before it decided to go Grudge on him and eat his arm or something. The troll groaned, its arm dropping back onto the ground as it became unnervingly still.

Hans grimaced and slowly edged away, fearing that the seemingly dead troll would pop up as a rotting, brain-hungry rock-zombie and devour him for breakfast as revenge for his untimely death. So he resumed his chores, keeping an eye on the still body as he dropped more apples into his sack, feeling extremely uncomfortable by the entire situation. Maybe Granpabbie could voodoo it alive or something. If it was dead, that is.

Bulda's head popped up from her hole, the tuft of grass that sat atop her head whipping in the breeze about her comically gigantic ears. She brandished a worn map that was about half her size, a triumphant grin upon her face as she walked over to the ex-prince.

"That's where he is.", she said, pointing to a charcoal stain on the frayed paper, "You'll have to find him; he can get you to Arendelle fast, and if he knows Grandpabbie and I sent you he'll be more than willing to help- hopefully. Now, there are some things you'll need to-"she paused, her head whipping over to the motionless troll. Her face fell, and Hans felt his heart drop down into his stomach.

He really had killed the troll.

Bulda squinted into the harsh sunlight and marched over to the body, pausing at its side. She studied it with a look of wisdom as Hans waited patiently for her to either a. kill him for committing homicide (again) or b. chant Latin phrases until the troll rose from its grave and killed him for committing homicide (again).

Bulda nodded to herself, and her stone foot connected roughly with the troll's side. It barked, slapping away her kicking feet as it attempted to crawl away.

"Get up, Cairn! You're so dramatic sometimes!"

The troll- now dubbed Cairn- muffled something unintelligible and rolled onto his backside, wincing in the blinding morning sun.

"C'mon, that was hard."

"Everything is hard for you! Grow up!" she kicked some dirt into his face and strode back towards a shocked Hans, who found himself sighing in relief. She rolled her eyes.

"He's so whiny." She grumbled. "Now, what were we talking about again? Kristoff! Now, he's a bit of a grump, and reeeeally likes reindeer and ice. Also, he may spontaneously burst into song. Nobody is sure why, except that we do it too, so I guess we rubbed off on him?"

Actually, now that Bulda had mentioned it, everybody in Arendelle seemed to spontaneously burst into song. Perhaps it was a disease? The weather? Heck, even he did it that one time with Anna. That place really was cursed.

"So, like I said, loves reindeer a bit too much. He's had Sven since he was just a little kid- I'm honestly surprised he's still alive. The reindeer, not Kristoff. Although, Kristoff does have a tendency to get into trouble. . ." she paused thoughtfully, before shaking her head. "Nah, all will work out for good! Just tell him Grandpabbie and Bulda sent 'ya, okay? Hans? Have you been listening to me?"

Hans drooping head shot up and he nodded. "Yeah! Singing! Elderly reindeer! Gotcha!"

Bulda narrowed her eyes at him in suspicion, but nodded. "Okay. So, I packed you enough food to last for a few days if you ration it out. There's some water skins, a blanket just in case it gets cold, and the map. Shoes," she pulled a pair of old hiking boots out from behind her, "since you don't have any. You might have to stuff them with leaves or something to make them fit. There's a pair of gloves in there as well. Unfortunately, the only human clothes besides these items are Kristoff's, and they won't fit you whatsoever; plus, he might be a bit creeped out if you showed up in his clothing, so you'll just have to go in what you have." She gestured to the ragged prison clothing and winced. "Be sure to change as soon as possible, though. And shave. You look like a crazy hobo that escaped from prison or something." She paused. "Actually, that's fairly accurate. No offense."

"Taken. Continue?"

She huffed, and fished out some coins from the bottom of the sack. "Cliff managed to find some money that we had piling up somewhere. Maybe it's Kristoff's, not sure, but he'll understand. Fate of the world and all that. Be sure to spend it wisely; food, clothing, the whole bit. Oh! And an axe." She tugged the axe out of the bag, tearing a small hole in the fabric. "Whoops. I'll fix that. Anyway, use this for self-defense and, y'know, survival. You know how to wield an axe?"

"Of course!" he huffed, crossing his arms petulantly.

"Yeah, yeah, you're a manly masculine man. I just wasn't sure if the royalty was into life skills." She scoffed, rolling her eyes. She glanced over to Cairn, who was still lying on the ground, picking halfheartedly at a patch of dandelions.

"Cairn! Grab my thread!"

Cairn groaned, shielding his eyes from the sun. Bulda scowled.

"Get up before I come over there and make you."

Cairn slowly stood up, grumbling as he waddled away to one of the alcoves.

"Is he okay?" Hans asked, wincing as the troll stumbled and nearly fell flat on his face.

"Cairn? Oh yeah, we trolls don't die off easy. We're basically rock, pretty much indestructible! He's just whiny. Teenagers." She shook her head, scoffing. "When I was his age, I had to go collect ingredients for Grandpabbie's potions. Trekked all up those mountains", she pointed to the mountain peaks, hidden by a stretch of clouds, "and all through the forests, by the lakes, basically went everywhere. Climbed up trees, dug holes, the whole bit. This generation though, I'll tell ya! So lazy! Can't even get 'em to catch a dragonfly once in a while! Yeesh", she shook her head, watching as Cairn dug around the holes for the needle and thread.

Finally, he pulled it out triumphantly, brandishing it like he had discovered the mighty Excalibur itself and set off at a snail's pace back towards the duo.

"Hurry up!"

"I think I broke my legs."

"You don't have any bones to break! Move faster, I'm not coming over to you!"

Cairn quickened his pace, and just before he reached them Bulda snatched the needle out of his clenched fist. He grumbled something under his breath as she grinned, patting his head like a pathetic dog.

"See, that wasn't so hard, now was it?" she grabbed the torn bag and quickly stitched it up, before stuffing the needle and thread inside the bag. "Just in case." She said, "Now, come along. The clan wanted to say goodbye."

The trolls stood around him, and the former prince couldn't help but feel a bit embarrassed as they cheered enthusiastically, shaking his hands with stony fists and giving him excited, bone-crushing hugs. Shouts filled the valley, scaring off birds in the trees above as they danced and sang with joy. Hans couldn't help but give a slight smile at their contagious optimism. He wished he felt the same about this whole adventure.

Silence descended as Grandpabbie waddled up, smiling softly. He clutched something in his fist, and gestured for the man to come closer.

"You'll do just fine", he said, nodding to himself, "find Kristoff at the ice house and set off for Arendelle. I'm sure you can flesh out the details of your plan on the way there. Make good time, now; the witch is probably pushing for an accident already, and I fear that you are short on time."

He gestured for Hans to open his hand, and he dropped a pendant in his palm. Hans blinked, staring at it.

"A necklace?"

"It'll come in handy. Just trust me, my boy; all will work out as it should." He leaned forward and pulled Hans into a warm hug.

Hans nodded stiffly and began to walk away as soon as Grandpabbie was finished, slinging the bag over his shoulder with the map in one hand and the axe in another. As he left, he heard Bulda's voice call out to him in the distance:

"You're always welcome here, if you find you have no place to go."

Sorry about the OC. He was mostly here for comic relief and filler. You probably won't see him again, at least, not for anything important.

Speaking of which, sorry about the filler, I figured I couldn't really just skip to him going on his epic adventure without some stuff in between. But don't worry, we're going to start the sloooooooooooow journey next chapter.
This story is going to be long, if you haven't figured that out yet.