Hans's body crashed through the churning surface and into the darkness of the North Sea. The initial plunge happened so fast that his body did not have time to react to the cold, but as he felt himself sink, a thousand needles began to dance along his skin. The icy seawater was so extreme he couldn't tell if it was the temperature of fire or dry ice.
Gasping reflexively, the brackish liquid filled his mouth and seared his senses. He had to get out of the water. Opening his eyes to the stinging sea, he saw flashes of light above, momentarily lighting the eerily dark water. The sea stirred violently all around him, and he watched in horror as the splintered boat sank down, wood groaning ominously in the quiet depths, paired only with the muffled sound of the incessant thunder. He saw the bodies of several other crewmen drifting lifelessly above, some struggling back to the surface.
Quickly righting his sinking body, he began to swim up when he realized his arms still held the snow queen. Recoiling, he let her go and watched as her unconscious form drifted down and away from his.
He was about to swim away when he felt the sudden urge to be a hero. Sighing at his innate princely-ness, letting a stream of precious silver bubbles rain from his nose, he reached down and hooked his left hand under her arm. Kicking and reaching with his right hand, he swam their way towards the surface and grabbed hold of a broken mast.
The water rose and fell violently all around them, and he gingerly slung Elsa's body across the mast. She winced and began to cough in pain.
"What—?" she choked, wincing again and clutching her side. She hung lazily onto the wood with one arm and felt her ribs with the other. Her face seemed vague in the flashing light.
"Stop that!" Hans growled, grabbing her prodding hand and forcing it back to the mast they clung to. "You still with me, your highness? You got to hang on tight. I'm not fishing you out again."
"I—what is happening?" she managed, wincing again as the wooden log rode the dangerously high waves. They submerged under water before Hans could reply.
Resurfacing, they coughed painfully from the salt, gripping the lifeline tighter than before. Hans watched as Elsa looked around, her eyes growing wide as she saw the remaining pieces of her splintered ship.
"No!" she cried, warm tears streaking her cold face.
"No use crying about it," Hans barked, resting his chin on the grainy wood. "Be glad you're still alive. At least for now."
"How can you be so callus?" she yelled, blue eyes hard and hateful. "How many of my men are dead, lost at sea?"
"We're lost at sea if you hadn't—!"
"It is my fault! I am their queen, they trusted me with their lives and I failed them."
"No one rules the weather," Hans muttered, turning his face from her and resting it on the other side. "And no one expects you too. Titles only get you so far." The cold water was beginning to get to him now, crawling on his skin and freezing him to the bone. If he didn't die from the waves he would have to resign with freezing to death.
For the hundredth time he envied Elsa's powers.
Suddenly he heard a faint yell amongst the crashing sea and sky. He lifted his head up, as did Elsa, and began to look for its source.
"Help!" The desperate voice called from the flashing dark waters around them.
"One of my crew!" Elsa exclaimed pushing herself back from the driftwood. "He survived! I need to—!" She winced again and grabbed hold of her chest.
"I'm no doctor, but you seem to have damaged your ribs." Hans said derisively, rolling his eyes. "You're in no condition to swim, let alone go to the poor soul's rescue."
"Then you go!" she commanded, staring at him firmly.
Hans nearly laughed, appalled by the suggestion. "Risk my life for a man, who knows where, that'll will just add more weight to our log here? He's not my subject."
"What kind of person are you?" she seethed, letting go of the wood again to perform the rescue herself.
"Wait—!" he called, grabbing hold of her splashing arm before the rolling waves pulled her out of reach. "I'll go. If I'm lucky the storms will kill me before I freeze to death."
And with that he let go on the drift wood and flung himself back into the raging sea.
Swimming away from the wood and doing his best to stay above the waves, he called out to the surviving crewman.
"Help! Oh lord, help!" the crewman called back, the words nearly drowning in the storm's chaos.
Hans treaded, looking in the direction the voice seemed to come from. In the black, night waters he saw at white body struggling against the waves.
"Try to stay there!" he called, swimming fast in that direction. "I'm coming!"
The man did all he could to stay above the water. He bobbed under and spluttered back up a few times, but he managed to not drift too far.
Arms tired and breathing heavily, Hans sighed with relief when he finally reached the man.
Hans grabbed the man's arm and slung in around his neck. Then, with a resurgence of power brought on by desperation to live, he kicked and swam back in the direction he came.
"A little help swimming, sailor?" Hans spit angrily as he bobbed under the man's weight.
"I can't!" the man wailed pathetically, wiggling his arms and legs uselessly in an attempt to do so.
"That's bloody great. Why the hell did you become a sailor?"
"I can swim!" the man yelled defiantly, then choked on a mouthful of water. "It's my leg," he managed after a coughing fit, "I think it's busted!"
"Great." Hans brooded, blowing bubbles of curse words into the sea foam. "Another invalid to ride the mast with. Speaking of invalids," he searched the dark, raging water looking for the driftwood and the passenger queen, "Elsa?! Where are you?"
"Her majesty is alive!?" the man spluttered, seemingly more overjoyed by the fact his queen had survived than himself. Hans let him dunk under the water in hopes he'd shut up.
A crystal blue light shot through the pouring rain like a signal flare. Making a slight half turn, he redirected his stroke and swam towards the blue tendrils. It seemed like forever until he reached the driftwood, and the cold was really starting to get to him.
Hauling the man towards the splintered mast, he selfishly grabbed hold of its middle and wrapped his rigid arms around it with a coughing sigh. The cold reached into his bones, making his limbs shake and slow moving. His entire body felt tight and he dug his nails into the soft wood, unsure of how much longer he'd be able to securely hold on.
"Your highness!" the man coughed, spluttering and trying to maneuvered around Hans to reach his queen. Hans elbowed him roughly, keeping him in place. "I'm so relieved you are alight!"
"As I am for you!" She replied with genuine relief. "Do you know if there are any more survivors? The Captain, or the Duke?"
"We're not alright." Hans muttered closing his eyes. "In case you hadn't noticed were caught in the middle of a storm in the middle of the North Sea."
The two Arendelles ignored him, or perhaps his pessimistic words were lost in the tempest. Whatever, he huffed, let them have their fleeting moment of relief.
"No, your highness, I saw no others. Please forgive us for failing you!" the man continued, sounding on the verge of tears, as did the queen. Hans looked at him with a sneer. Seeing him fully for the first time he realized he wasn't much more than a boy.
"Don't blame yourself," Hans said gruffly, trying his best to drop the sneer, "The failure was a team effort."
"I swear to you, my queen," the crewman continued, bowing his head to the point his nose dipped in the water, "I will ensure your safety, even if it means I die!"
"Well, it looks like you'll get your wish."
"Would you shut up!?" Elsa yelled, whacking Hans on the head with her hand. "Don't listen to him, and don't talk like that. Your life, all of our lives, are equally precious. Yours too Hans. We are going to survive. Now instead prematurely dooming ourselves, let's try to figure out a way to endure this storm."
"Aye, my Queen!" Agust answered loyally. He sighed, rolling his eyes. But it was not like cooperating with the Arendelles would cause him anymore harm. Nodding in agreement, Hans turned toward Elsa, ready to help in any way possible.
"What's your name, sailor?" Elsa asked kindly, giving the man a small smile through the pain and grave situation.
"Agust, your majesty!" he replied, attempting a salute but quickly clutching to the wood as he began to slip off. "Petty officer Agust Kling!"
"Nice to meet you, Agust," Hans replied dryly, "My name is Prince Hans, well, former Prince Hans, of the Southern Isles."
"Wait," Agust blurted, blinking saltwater from his eyes, "You're Hans? The prisoner, the one who tried to kill the royal family and steal Arendelle's throne?!"
Hans smiled at the man's disgust and thanked the night and storm for hiding his face for so long. The man's expression was priceless. "Well, when you put it that way—"
"Your majesty," Agust snarled, the boyish fear fading from his face, "this man cannot be trusted! He should be removed immediately from this vessel!"
"Now wait a minute," Hans contended, "I saved both of your lives? Or have you forgotten? And, if you're so keen to point out the obvious, let me remind you that neither of you are fit to swim. If I wanted, I could push the lot of you off and have the mast for myself."
"Stop!" Elsa commanded, then looking to Agust, "Both of you. We can't afford to be fighting right now. I say we ride out the storm. But not like this. The water is freezing, we'll be dead in an hour if we don't get out of it."
"What do you suggest we do then?" Hans barked, once again remembering the cold that chilled his marrow. It had become so painful that his body had gone numb, and it was only a matter of minutes until it completely shut down. "Build a raft?"
"Of sorts."