Agust's head was pounding from the stampede of feet around him, the jostling of his body as he was trampled again and again, and the screaming. The terrified screams bore into his skull like a fishhook, slashing the jelly substance of his brain to goo. And then there was his leg, the break searing with renewed pain as his was thrown to the ground and repeatedly stepped on. It burned white hot, lighting up his nerves and sending him into near shock. It was maddening, especially with the chaos going on around him, but somehow through it all he was able to focus on the one thing more important than his life: his queen.

"Your highness!" He screamed, strangled and higher pitched than normal. But his voice was lost in the din, drowned even on his own ears. "My queen!" It was useless, useless just like him. Before he'd fallen down to the mercy of the panicked crowd, he's seen her running to safety. If the town's people were still so frantic, he felt it was a good sign that "the witch" was on the loose. Her escape gave him the solace he needed to finally give way to unconsciousness.

"Wake up!" The loud sound rang in his ears, pulling his groggy mind forward. It brought the ringing in his ears and the hot, stomach curling pain in his body back as he slowly drifted back to consciousness. The pain seemed to stem from the swelling in his leg. He withered a bit, arms unnaturally stiff, back and neck aching like hell.

Suddenly the flaming pain disappeared as a cold sensation washed over him, drenching his skin and brining him retching into total consciousness with shaky gasps for air. Queen Elsa was here, she had saved him from the crowd, was using her powers to heal him like before-

The pain flared back up, causing him to wince with an undignified squeal. Warm tears filled his eyes, but whatever else happened he would not let them fall. He was a sailor, a soldier; it would take more than this broken leg to bring him down. At least this time.

"Who are you? What do you want?" The angry, gruff voice crammed its way into his mind. Not Queen Elsa. Not Hans.

This wasn't going to be good.

"I could ask the same of you." Agust growled, forcing his eyes open and staring the man in front of him down with more courage than he felt. Before fully registering the man sitting in front of him with an empty bucket, he first saw the bars that set them apart. Long, dull metal bars that stretched from the dirty stone ground to the chipping stucco ceiling above. Then he realized why his arms were so stiff, why his wrists were burning; they were bound behind his back. He shifted himself, trying in vain to bring his arms forward but they were trapped by the rungs of the rickety chair he'd been propped in. He looked back at the man, incredulous. He almost flinched upon seeing the man's own rage far surpassed his own.

"How dare you treat us like this?" Agust still managed, the words no longer carrying the threat he's intended. They were lined with vulnerability and fear. "Where is her highness? What have you done to her?"

"You don't get to ask the questions!" The man snarled, though he nervously squirmed in his chair as Agust's voice rose with anger. "Who are you and what do you want from us?"

"We're Arendelles," Agust answered, trying to keep his voice even. "The royal ship sank in a storm, leaving us stranded here." He tried to stay calm, to be patient. He remembered these people had just seen Elsa's power and they were justifiably scared. Hell, he'd called the queen a witch the first time he'd seen her power, and that was only a few months ago. They had no idea who he, the queen, and Hans were. For all they knew he had powers just like Elsa. It was starting to make sense why the man was so scared of him, why they'd taken such precautions and locked him up.

"You're lying." The man insisted, teeth gritting. "Your queen is a sorceress, a witch. You're monsters, exiles, weapons of war, I don't know! But what I do know is that you are a danger to Eofar, whether you mean to be or not." The way he said "I" carried the weight of the entire town. He must have been volunteered to interrogate this "dangerous prisoner", Agust assumed.

"We're not monsters!" Agust insisted, beginning to panic. "I swear upon her highnesses life—"

"Such a swear won't carry weight here." The man snarled. "Not anymore. You lied to us."

"No one lied." Agust growled, the pain dulling as he began to steam with anger. "No one asked us, 'oh hello castaways! Do any of you have magical abilities we should be aware about?' No! We didn't want to hurt you, we still don't want to hurt you! We just want to go home."

"If you didn't want to hurt anyone, why did your ice witch attack the town?" The man deathly whispered, rising from his chair in sudden fear of Agust. "Why did she and her lover run?!"

"She's not a witch! And lover?" Agust spluttered, caught him off guard. Oh. Hans. At least he's learned Elsa did in fact get away. He sighed in relief for a moment, but then the negative side of his brain spun it into a wail of dismay. The island was only so big, only so many places to run, hide—it was only a matter of time before they found her. And if Agust was reading his interrogator correctly, they would do more than bind and lock her up. "She can't control it sometimes, when he gets scared or angry or—!"

"Much like you now?" The man observed, fearfully backing towards the cell hall door. He stared at Agust for a brief moment, debating whether to continue asking the questions he's been voted to retrieve or run for his life. Predictably, Flight won and he flung the heavy door open and slammed it behind him. The sound of several bolts told Agust they'd taken all measures to not only keep him in, but protect their selves.

"No!" Agust screamed in panic, rocking in his chair. The outburst rewarded him with a new bout of pain, curdling in his broken bones and throbbing bruises. "No! You've got to listen!" He begged, still fighting against the pain. "Please, you've got to listen to me!" His voice cracked with defeat, body sagging against his tight bonds. They were out hunting for Queen Elsa right now. They saw her as a monster, a danger that needed to be destroyed for the safety of all. They didn't know her, they didn't know him. All they had was his word, and much that would do now.

He was the only one who could fix this. He had to convince them they meant no harm, that it was just an accident. He cursed the queen, an action he immediately regretted, and wondered why she'd lost control in the first place. He'd not been watching or protecting her, he'd been paying too much to Abbie. Her dark skin ripe in that blue velvet dress, her soft lilac smell, her kind, sympathetic smile and understanding eyes—

"ABBIE!" He screamed at the top of his lungs before the idea had fully formed in his head. "ABBIE! AAABBIEEEEEE!" And he'd keep screaming, even when his throat would begin to bleed, even when his lungs would threaten to burst. He'd keep screaming her name until she came and listened, truly listened to what he had to say.

And when she finally arrived, breathless, harried, and inspecting him with confusion and fear, he told her the story of Queen Elsa, the Snow Queen of Arendelle.

XXX

After running through the woods for what felt like a mile, Hans's body came to a stop, his insides' protests overcoming the need to move his feet. He bent over holding his stomach, willing himself to not vomit up the food he consumed not a half hour earlier. He was pretty sure he could keep the rolling mass of chicken, cakes, fruits, and who knows what else down as long as he didn't move. Ever.

"Oh gosh…" he moaned, nearly sagging to his knees. Elsa tore past him, the frenzy of the chase still giving her the strength to press forward. But as her anchor collapsed that energy began to wane. Feeling her legs grow heavy with the anticipation of stopping, she forced herself to turn around and go back to Hans, to urge him onward, save him from whatever he'd suddenly fallen victim to. They had to get far away from the town, their pursuers, what she had done. If she stopped, she would have to face the consequences. She needed him to keep moving.

"What's the matter!?" Elsa demanded as she ran panting back to him. "Why are you stopping? We have to go?!" She grabbed his tight, muscled arm and forced him to run along. She tried not to notice the warmth that erupted as their skins touched again. Dooming the island to an ice storm was the last thing they needed right now. She couldn't lose control of herself, not again.

Hans's heaving body resisted the pull at first, but eventually gave into her forceful tugs. "I'm sorry!" He moaned, struggling regain his pace. "I ate a lot of food!"

"Why did you do that?!" She breathed, a stitch forming in her side.

"I have this problem where if I don't put food in my stomach I can die. Really inconvenient, I know."

"No," she seethed through her teeth, taking her frustration and sudden running pains out on him. "Why were you filling your face?"

"We were at a party!" He yelled, bewildered by her flashing anger. "I didn't know we'd have to run for our lives. Again. What was I supposed to do, not enjoy to local cuisine?"

Then body took over will and he fell forward onto his hands and knees, sharing the very same local cuisine with the damp forest floor below.

"Oh no," Elsa whined, though not without sympathy. She hovered back and forth, unsure of what to do, and finally settled beside him, rubbing and patting his back as Hans heaved.

Hans's sinuses burned and his throat was raw as the acid forced its way out of his stomach. But he since wasn't truly sick, just over exerted, the sickly action made him feel better, though very tired. He mumbled at Elsa, asking her to help him away from the stinking mess. The pleas had barely left his burning mouth before she hauled him up and helped him hobble away.

"I—I think we've outrun them." Hans wheezed as they awkwardly limped under their combined weights. "It should be safe for us to rest." He felt his stomach twist again as they nearly tipped over an overgrown root. "Ideally somewhere nearby." Elsa murmured in agreement, too tired to argue or continue running.

They trudged over the thick roots and soggy ground, the mist of the rain above clinging to their bodies and bringing up a low, swirling fog. They approached a muddy, but flattened area under a giant, crippling oak tree; its low hanging branches made the spot ideal for their stop, sheltering them from the rain and keeping the surrounding earth free of brush. Elsa heaved a sigh as she helped Hans settled down, propping him up between the massive roots. With a fluttering heart and burning cheeks, she once again called upon her cursed powers and crafted an ice cup which she filled with the fluffiest flakes of snow. The crisp flakes melted quickly in the wet, summer air and she hesitantly passed the cup of clean water to Hans.

"Drink this." She ordered softly, refusing to make eye contact with him.

"Thanks." Hans carefully took the cup into a shaking hand and pressed it to his parched lips. The water tasted heavenly, washing away the burning, acidic tastes the incident had left and filling his stomach with cold, soothing matter.

Elsa winced as she saw blood trickle down his arm and his fingers leave wet, red smears on the icy cup. Though the shards had long fallen out and melted off him, she had hurt him. That blood was her fault.

"You're hand…" she whispered with shame, still refusing to look him in the eye. What had happened back there? Why had she lost control? Why had she hurt him, those other people?

Hans warily looked at his injured had, tilting his head in confusion as if he'd forgotten the pain. He winced as he sharp cuts returned but he pushed it from his mind. Making Elsa feel bad about it was the last thing she needed right now.

Elsa quickly summoned up swath of sticky snow and pressed it onto his wounds. He hissed as the cold water filled the raw skin and the immaculate white became stained pink with his blood. But the hiss fell into a sigh of relief as the snow coat numbed the pain and slowed the blood flow of his wounds.

"Elsa," Hans said softly, reaching out to touch her with the non-bloody, snow covered hand, "It's okay. I'm fine, really." She hadn't meant to hurt him. He'd seen how scared she was, seen her trapped in the crowd, her powers splaying out of control. All he cared about was getting her away from the raging crowd, getting her somewhere safe where she could breathe and calm down.

She flinched from his touch, turning her head and pressing her eyes and lips shut. She felt every moment with him, every touch, would set off her powers. They'd been dancing, that's all—and look what she had done. Tears pushed against her eyelids, a wave that would inevitably fall when she finally reopened them.

"I'm so sorry." She breathed, voice shaky with a suppressed sob. "I'm sorry I hurt you, I'm sorry I ruined everything, I'm sorry I destroyed our chance to return to Arendelle—!" The last apology struck her as she realized its weight. Her slurring words collapsed into sobs.

Hans put his good arm around her, and though she tried to move away, he pulled her close and held her as she cried. Here she was patching up his arm, helping him find shelter and rest, and now apologizing to him of all people. She'd lost the most in the accident, she was the one who's chances to reclaim her life had been dashed, stolen from her in a sudden whirl of fear. Fear brought on by him. He didn't deserve her kindness, her apologies. It was his fault she lost control, his fault she was stuck on this island in the first place. He breathed ruefully, shaking his head at himself. He shouldn't have attempted to dance with her; she'd been caught off-guard, was so nervous. And then—his face instantly blushed—he'd had the audacity to try to kiss her! He had no right to try that, no right to even think that towards her! Entertaining such feelings was foolish; had he truly forgotten his role in all this? He was her enemy, her prisoner. No wonder she'd lost control.

If he hadn't interfered with her life, hadn't let his emotions control him, none of this would ever had happened.

There was nothing he could do for her, nothing he could say to apologize for his idiocrasy, his feelings both old and new that continued to ruin her life. His was already over, he knew that, why should hers be ruined too? All he could do was hold her close and be with her as she cried. She wouldn't be alone this time when her world came crashing down.

Hans wasn't sure how long they stayed like that. Even when Elsa's sobs died with her growing fatigue, they remained huddled under the sprawling oak branches, warming each other against the storm and their drenched clothes, which were utterly destroyed once again. Her poor, cotton dress had made her so bright, so alive, so naturally beautiful. He had felt something strange inside himself seeing her dancing and spinning. She was so happy, so full of life. He'd only seen her eyes that alive once before, right after she and Anna reunited and sent him flying overboard into the still freezing waters of the fjord. He felt a growling in his heart, angry her happiness and new life had been stolen from her so soon. A life of love, family, and happiness that he would never know.

He'd do anything to give her that life again, anything to bring back that light to her eyes.

"Do you—do you think I'm a monster?" Elsa finally choked out, breaking the silence.

"No."

"Not even back then, the night of the coronation?" She elaborated, grief threatening to overtake her. "When I lost control, everyone was so shocked, appalled, frightened? You weren't even scared of me then?"

"I've never been scared of you."

"Yeah, you were practical." She laughed bitterly, tears falling free. She heaved herself away from his encircling arms and pulled her knees to her chest and buried her chin. "Instead of seeing a monster, you saw a weakness, an opportunity to take advantage of." A chill clawed at her skin as her body separated from his. Though she attempted to welcome the cold, to accept its unfeeling embrace, she felt herself longing for his warmth. She hugged herself tighter, barring her arms from seeking his. She couldn't give into these desires to hold him, to touch him, to kiss him! It would only result in more pain, fear, and disaster. She had to get away, break off her emotions, keep her mind busy.

So she decided to talk.

She decided to argue.

She decided to pry into his mind in hopes to escape her own.

"Do you think I'm a monster?" He countered, voice loud yet earnestly seeking an answer. She looked away, biting her lips. The answer was in her expression, but the hesitation meant it was being debated. "Did you ever want something so bad that you were willing to do anything to obtain it?" He tried again, eyes directed towards the ground. "Even if it meant becoming someone you no longer recognized?"

"The coronation ball." Elsa replied steadily, eyes following his. "When ran away."

"If I remember correctly, they wanted to burn you at the stake." Hans interrupted bitterly. "Much like they do now."

"Yes," she agreed, feeling the grief well inside again, "and both times I acted instinctually, but in Arendelle—I am their Queen. I shouldn't have run, and when I did I should've come back. But when I got away, when I was finally out and alone, I felt—I realized I was free. I was finally free of a destiny I never asked for and a fear that ruled my entire life. I no longer had to conceal who I was, and I didn't want to ever again. I through my responsibilities needs of my kingdom, my love for my sister to the wind." She leaned back against the tree, shaking her head with a sad, regretful smile on her face. "When Anna found me, told me what I'd done to Arendelle, I refused to go back, thinking only of myself. To be honest, at the time I didn't even care. I'd finally found my freedom and nothing was going to take it from me, not even the lives of my sister or people." She stopped, looking at him with cold eyes. "I'm assuming your regret occurred the same night."

"I behaved rather brutishly." He said, then winced at the grand understatement. "I wanted to have a kingdom, and the only way that would ever happen was if I married into one. Your situation seemed promising. Two orphaned princesses, one becoming a sovereign queen, the lives of both mysterious and shut from their people. I figured if I could court you I'd have everything I'd always wanted."

"But you didn't." Elsa stated, feeling a blush creep up her rain plastered cheeks. "You pursued Anna, and then tried to kill her."

"Killing was not my original intention." Hans murmured shamefacedly. "I wanted to marry you, but you were so reclusive and cold, and Anna was so eager and sunny…becoming engaged to her was easy. But then I realized as we came back to the dance how young you were, only one and twenty. I couldn't wait my entire life hoping you'd die and I'd inherit the crown with Anna…I couldn't throw my chance at being king away, not after coming so close. So I resolved you would have to be removed. I'd wait a few years, get to know the people of Arendelle and Anna, win their hearts, and then stage an accident for you. But then everything exploded into chaos and with you deemed a witch and casting an eternal winter, I saw my chance to immediately assume the throne alongside the Anna. I didn't plan on you freezing her heart; I didn't even plan on killing her down the road. But when she did show up sick, dying, and in need of my help I knew I couldn't save her, and I realized I no longer needed to. I truthfully hoped I'd grow to love her one day, but she was still a stranger to me, sweet and loving, yes, but still a stranger. I owed her nothing. In that moment, I deemed it best to privately cut our ties."

"I can understand, maybe even forgive, how you treated me in Arendelle," Elsa said when he finished, struggling to keep her words even, "but what I can't fathom was how you treated Anna." Her voice began to grow with revived rage. "She was freezing to death, she needed you, and you left her to die!"

"I couldn't have saved her." Hans defended himself, though the energy wasn't there. "I didn't love her. There was nothing I could do."

"Perhaps," she agreed angrily, tears masked by the rain. "But you were cruel. You could've tried, you could've gotten help, attempted to keep her warm, told me the truth! But no, you happily broke your engagement to her as if ridding yourself of a leech, and laughed as you robbed her of heat and locked her away!" a sob forced through her words. "You didn't try to save her, didn't even want to."

He could not meet her eyes, and though his body was freezing, his face burned with raw, unending shame. There was nothing he could say, nothing but to agree he was a despicable piece of trash. That he was a monster, that he was a villain, that he was evil. He didn't want to fight with her, especially since everything she said and accused him of was true. He deserved her anger, her hate, her abuse. It was his fault she was here, his fault she'd lost control at the festival. He deserved to be trapped on the island left to face a bloodthirsty mob, not her. Never her.

"Why did you want a crown that badly?" she demanded, wanting to understand why he needed it, how he could become so horrible. "Power? Respect? Family? You were a prince, you had all that already!"

"There was nothing for me back home." He answered quietly, all his rationale suddenly seeming perverse and trivial in light of his actions.

"That's no reason to destroy another's!" She rebuked, giving words to his silent guilt. "You think you're the only royal with problems they couldn't vent, problems they had to conceal their entire life to prevent staining their lineage and losing the crown?" Elsa clenched her jaw, cobalt eyes boring icicles into his hazel. "My parents made me feel my powers were a plague, a curse. They feared I'd cause us to lose everything. How would you like to grow up feeling like a mistake?"

"I'm the thirteenth son. I was a mistake."

Elsa blinked, her tirade of words derailed at the shockingly large number. And she'd often thought having a sister was tough enough. "You had said you had brothers—I didn't realize—,"

"My mother wanted a little girl." Hans explained sheepishly, though there was extreme sadness hidden behind the redness of his face. "She never was blessed with one, and after me the doctors said her body couldn't handle any more births. I realize my childhood difficulties are petty when compared to yours, but being her last disappointment, unable to compete with my older brothers accomplishments, parents being bored with raising their other sons by the time I achieved anything…I couldn't handle being invisible anymore."

"We all have demons, Hans." She replied softly, finding more likeness of herself in him than she ever believed possible. She'd struggled her whole life to be invisible; he'd struggled his whole life to become visible. Though she'd failed miserably for the best, he'd succeeded infamously for the worst.

"True I was rich and all my immediate needs were met," Hans continued offhandedly, trying to separate his emotions from the backstory, "But that doesn't make a person happy. Humans need love—now I'm sounding hypocritical—but it's true. I needed love from my father, my brothers, my mother, but I never felt it." He didn't want to tell her these things mostly because he didn't want to admit them to himself. But part of him that wanted to hold her, wanted to kiss her, wanted her to know, wanted her to understand maybe he wasn't evil, wanted her to see he'd finally found a reason—a cause—to start acting like a man.

And now that the story was unfolding he couldn't stop it, even if he wanted to. "I was cast aside, ignored, taken care of by wet nurses a find servants. I was made so invisible my parents didn't even ship me off to a boarding school. The only times I ever saw them was during formal events, dinner, and my brother's ceremonies. The only time they ever took an interest in me was when they sent me far north to court noble daughters, to finally rid themselves of me forever. They never imagined I'd cultivated the ambition to pursue a princess."

Elsa remained silent, listening intently but unsure of what to say. What words could she even use? She didn't know what she felt anymore when she looked at him. Anger, hate, playfulness, irritation, weariness, and now…did she dare to say empathy? And if she reflected on what she felt, what scared her to the core a mere hour earlier, infatuation? A fondness even?

She hated him, he'd try to take everything from her, tried to kill Anna. And yet here she was feeling forgiveness and finding her own troubles shared by him. Though it seemed wrong, they now shared a bond. She trembled in the cold, a new sensation, and found herself longing for his arms to wrap around her again.

"When your lot shipped me back home," Hans murmured quietly after a few minutes of silence, "It was the first time I had an intimate encounter with my mother. She slapped me, called me a disgrace. She then told me they were all better off when I was invisible. Her words, not mine." He paused, feeling his composure begin to shake. He rebuilt his foundation within Elsa's eyes. "That whole time, she'd known they'd been neglecting me, known what they were doing to me. But they didn't care, she didn't care." His voice cracked, emotions betraying his solid composure. Clamping his trembling jaw shut, he forced the monstrous sorrow that threatened to envelop him back down. He'd learned how to shut out his feelings a long time ago. All they ever did was cause him trouble.

"I'm not telling you this for your forgiveness or pity," he finally finished, stoic expression restored, "I'd never be as presumptuous as to expect that, but so that you can understand how a monster like me was be born. Though it means little now, I am truly sorry about what I did to you and Anna. I will live with the guilt and regret for those decisions for the rest of my life."

"Hans," Elsa whispered, the cursed word barely audible in her shaky breaths. Her hand crawled across the sodden earth, fingers lacing over his. He stared down at them in surprise; they were pleasantly cold to the touch. "If I'm not a monster, than neither are you. I forgive you."

"But—," He protested, a lump rising in his throat. "But everything that happened—we wouldn't even be here if you didn't feel compelled to come save me from an honor's execution. And the chaos in the town—that was all my fault. I shouldn't have been so forward, I scared you, caused you to give into fear—!"

"Hans," Elsa interrupted, her steady gaze locked onto his, truly seeing him as a man for the first time, "What's there to be afraid of?"

Her lips brushed against his, warm, soft, and full of emotions neither of them could understand. She needed it, he needed it, and with the chaos in the town inevitably going to catch up to them, they had nothing left to lose.