Chapter 1:

Coronation Day

The voyage was a dangerous one; currents due to the differentiating sea temperatures between the northern and southern hemispheres rocked the boat almost constantly, and summer storms across the ocean were particularly choppy this year.

However, during the four week long passage from the Southern Isles to Arendelle, Hans had spent a lot of time thinking, hoping that he could make his father and his family proud of him for once.

He tried to dig deep inside of himself, to find the part that was unjaded in an effort to put his best foot forward. His father's words echoed inside of his head.

Be the person you have always wanted to be.

He wanted to. He wanted to reinvent himself. Even when he was little, the day he was clutched to his mother's chest sobbing about starting a new life, that had always been the grandest fantasy to him: to start anew.

He would often think about what kind of man he would have become if he'd had his mother for more than eight years, or if simply his brothers had been loving to him. Perhaps he wouldn't feel this competitive, agonizing need to prove himself and the insatiable drive for power. He really was two souls, split in two.

But this really was a chance at a new beginning, no matter what shortcomings he may have had pointed out his entire life. Where there was self-doubt he practiced confidence, where there was anger or resentment he practiced patience and love. He read, a lot, stories of romance and poetry, hoping that the words of encouragement and love would rub off on him.

It wasn't until he boarded the ship that he realized he had no idea what love was; he had never been in love. He felt quite naïve to it all, since his different passions and constant lessons kept him quite busy in his youth, and the last thing he wanted was to seduce women at the same volume as some of his brothers.

He'd never thought a whole lot about love, not in the romantic sense. He assumed that eventually it would find him, but it was never really a priority. After all, he was only in his 23rd year, he had plenty of time to worry about such things, or so he thought.

And now that he'd really had a chance to think about it, Hans had never realized just how lonely his life really was. He wasn't sure why he'd never been interested in finding a young woman to spend his life with, but now that it was a real, plausible solution he could hardly contain his nerves. Merely a babe in the world, he was sent off to not only court a princess, but marry her and take stock in her kingdom.

The journey itself was quiet, also lonely, but that never troubled him before. Hans was used to being alone, used to silence. Lars had hardly left his bedroom chamber on the ship, which didn't bother him one iota since Lars had always slunk around in the background, mostly unnoticed.

Hans stood on the top deck of his ship, the sea air nipping at his face. It was refreshing, albeit slightly colder than he was expecting, but then again Arendelle was known for its cooler temperatures even in the summer. He wondered what Princess Elsa would be like, what she would look like. All he had was the memory of a painting that hung in their grand ballroom, one delivered to the king when he was quite young.

It was a family portrait of the King Agdar and Queen Idun of Arendelle, along with their two young daughters. It had been a gift; King Elias had collected portraits of all the royal families in neighboring kingdoms. He had always seen it as his own, royal photo album, used to show his high rank in society and diplomacy to foreign visitors.

It hung among the other portraits, nestled close to his favorite reading spot; a bench seat under a grand window that always seemed to have sunshine pouring through, even during the coldest months. The intricate, detailed painting was huge, making the king and queen life-sized with their two young daughters in tow. When Hans was quite little, and alone, he would go into that ballroom to be around 'people.' They weren't real, sure, but to a small child riddled with loneliness, they were the only friends he'd ever had. He would talk to them, and sometimes he pretended they would talk back. Although he never really knew the names to match these many faces, he saw them as his closest confidants. Days in that ballroom got him through tough times, especially when Ava had perished.

But he always recalled the Arendelle family portrait; the tall, proud king with kinder eyes than his own father's, the sweet, caring mother. He hated to admit it, but the two young girls had always been fascinating to him, so starkly different and yet similar at the same time. And although he knew that Elsa, the older daughter with eyes of ice and hair as white as snow, was the one he was going to wed, something about the littler one always called to his heart.

Her strawberry blonde hair looked soft, her eyes inviting, hopeful. She was younger than he, at least by a few years, but he couldn't help but be dawn to her time and time again.

As he grew, he needed the ballroom less and less. Lessons of all kinds would take up his time and he found that soon it would be months, sometimes even years that passed without even stepping foot in that room.

As the air whipped through his hair, Hans stared out at the horizon, Arendelle coming more and more into focus in the distance. The morning sun peaked over the mountains, making the sea blindly sparkling. After the long wait, he was finally here.

Hans stood tall, proudly adjusting his light grey Admiral's jacket and his burgundy ascot in the mirror. Although he had been at sea for nearly a month, he didn't look the part of a wayward sailor. His navy vest and tailored pants were crisp and neat, his boots still shined to perfection. His hair was longer than he was used to, but at the same time he liked they way it looked; like he was someone else. A new person. He pulled a white glove up over his hand.

"May I enter, your majesty?" Hans heard from the other side of his cabin door. He recognized the voice as Lars, who had finally come out of hiding to announce their arrival, although he'd known they were close for a few hours now.

"Enter," he called out, and heard the door unlatch.

"We are about to dock in Arendelle," Lars said. Hans turned to look at him, surprised to see a slight smile on his usually morose face. He was much older than Hans; lines painted his slightly tanned face. He had dark eyes, almost black and a pointed nose that stuck out farther than any other he'd seen. He had dark, graying hair and very snake-like features that always left him slightly uneasy. He was draped in a dark, purple cloak and a cane that had become his most used accessory was in his black-gloved left hand. He'd use the cane all of Hans' life, although he'd never thought to ask why.

"Thank you, Lars," Hans said politely.

"The coronation is in a few hours, we are arranging a meeting with Princess Elsa beforehand, so that you can-"

"Oh, Lars. Lighten up a bit. We just got here," Hans pleaded slightly. "I'll meet her, but first I want to get off this ship! Let Sitron stretch his legs a bit. I thought maybe we could explore the town." Although Hans hadn't been closed up in a castle all his life, he hadn't been out much either. He'd never explored other kingdoms, such invitations were always reserved for his older brothers. The farthest he made it was to sea while in the Navy, but as far as getting out to see the world he was still slightly virginal.

"Very well, Prince Hans." Lars swallowed back his distaste for the idea, pursing his thin lips. "I will arrange to have Sitron dressed for riding at once."

The feeling of land under Hans' boots was incredibly comforting, although he figured he'd be suffering from vertigo for the remainder of this visit. He had barely made it off the ship before a cart whirled by him, almost knocking him over.

The villagers were all in a tizzy, flowers and streamers strewn about all over the kingdom. People hustled past and spoke in excited whispers; the gates were to open soon. He didn't know much about Arendelle, but he did know that the princesses lived as shut-ins for most of their lives after the King and Queen had passed and that this was a huge event for the kingdom.

Hans was in the highest spirits he'd been in for longer than he could remember, free at last and alone in a way that made him feel empowered, not lonely. Not far from the docks was the market, which he gravitated to immediately. So many people, so many brightly colored decorations and tapestries; the buzz around him was intoxicating.

In the village square he saw a group of young maidens eyeing him from afar and whispering to one another. His cheeks pinkened when he realized they were talking about him, he could even hear the giddiness in their laughter. He rose a gloved and to them and waved.

"Hello, ladies," he called out politely, their laughter erupting into almost squeals. The interaction brought an instant smile to his face as he realized he was free. THIS was the person he wanted to be.

Lars sent a guard to him with Sitron, who neighed excitedly at his presence.

"Sitron!" Hans yelled out, excited to see his favorite companion as well. He pulled at Sitron's harness and brought his face down towards his, petting his nose gently. "Good to see you too, buddy. Wanna go for a ride?"

The terrain of Arendelle was nothing like the Southern Isles; it was rocky and slightly treacherous and Sitron was not particularly used to it. The views, however, were astonishing. Even in the summer Hans could see snowcapped mountains off in the distance and evergreens cloaked the land in their dark, green musk.

It was easy to be impressed with the beauty of Arendelle, but the people were another story. All the people he passed would bow as he rode by, taken aback by the handsome, young prince. They showed him more respect and gratitude in those first few hours of arriving than he had ever gotten back at home, although he tried hard not to think about it. It was easy for him to feel a sense of belonging here, which was something he didn't even realize he longed for so deeply. The mere notion that this could be his home made him overcome with a feeling inside his belly that he couldn't quite pinpoint. Or maybe that was just the vertigo.

He rode quickly as he heard bells in the distance; the coronation would be starting soon. Hans had been so busy exploring the town and the people that he had completely forgotten about the time.

"Yah!" he yelled out to Sitron, who picked up speed just in time to collide with something, or better yet someone, on the dock. Hans watched in horror as a young woman flew backwards and landed in the back of a nearby rowboat, nearly tipping it over into the cold bay. Thinking fast and with one swift movement, Hans pulled on the reign tightly, prompting Sitron to steady the boat on the dock and keep her from falling.

"Hey!" he heard her yell out in surprise.

"I'm so sorry. Are you hurt?" he asked quickly, fearing that perhaps in his first hours in Arendelle he might inadvertently kill someone. He assumed this was NOT the best way to make a first impression. His eyes met hers, and something struck him instantly: the familiarity. It was as if they'd met before but he wasn't quite sure where. Her big, emerald eyes fixated on his and widened, a silly smile spreading across her lips.

"Hey. I-ya, no. No. I'm okay."

"Are you sure?" He coaxed.

"Yeah I just wasn't looking where I was going. But I'm okay."

Hans smirked to himself and got down off the horse, nearing her and climbing into the boat to help her out of her current predicament. Something about her cute, flustered awkwardness made him wonder if this was a common occurrence for her, getting in a bind.

"I'm great, actually," she assured.

"Oh, thank goodness," he said, a slight chuckle in his voice. He reached his hand down, and she gladly took it, their eyes meeting. Something about the way she looked into his eyes made his breath hitch, he froze for a split second. He couldn't deny the instant chemistry, so much so he realized he'd completely forgotten his manners. He cleared his throat and took a bow.

"Prince Hans of the Southern Isles," he introduced. Usually when he introduced himself to lovely women they all had a similar awestruck reaction, but this one seemed relatively unphased. She took a small curtsey.

"Princess Anna of Arendelle," she reciprocated. Hans was instantly caught off guard, embarrassed by his casualness in this situation.

"P-Princess?" he repeated, surprised. He instantly fell to one knee, bowing more dramatically than before. "My Lady." Taking a cue from his rider, Sitron raised his hoof in honor of the princess, only to send the two of them nearly toppling into the bay, together this time, Hans falling with all of his weight onto the princess.

"Hi again," Anna said, seemingly trying to defuse the embarrassing situation they'd both found themselves in. Realizing his mistake, Sitron instantly slammed his foot down, destabilizing the boat, causing them back to topple backwards, this time her on top of him.

"Oh boy," Hans exclaimed, the air almost knocked right out of him. They lingered a moment, Anna beginning to blush nervously.

"Ha. This is awkward. Not you're awkward, but just because we're- - I'm awkward, you're gorgeous," she rambled as they got back to their feet. He couldn't help but chuckle under his breath at her quirkiness. Her eyes grew three sizes as she realized what she'd just said to him. "Wait. What?"

"I want to formally apologize for hitting the Princess of Arendelle with my horse…and every moment after," he said casually, hoping to ease her nervousness. It didn't seem to help, she remained bashful and flustered under his intense stare. She tucked some lose hair behind her ear and shrugged.

"No, no-no. It's fine. I'm not THAT princess. I mean, if you'd hit my sister Elsa that would be - - Yeesh! 'Cause, you know…" her words trailed as she walked by him, almost re-running into Sitron again. She sweetly patted his nose, and Hans made the observation that she had the attention span of a flea. "Hello," she greeted the horse, safely back on the dock. She turned to him again, their eyes locking once more. "But, luck you. It was just me."

"Just you," Hans repeated, suddenly realizing where he'd seen her before. In the flesh, not painted upon canvass, was the beautiful, doe-eyed little girl he'd told all his secrets to growing up. She was older now, of course, but it was undoubtedly her. It was his turn to be simply awestruck at her lines and curves, painted more brilliantly in real life than he could have ever imagined growing up.

Diiiing, diiiing, diiiing

"The bells. The coronation! I-I-I…I better go! I have to.. I better go!" she said frantically, outlining his own thoughts as well. He watched her begin to run off, relieved when she turned back around to see him one more time. "Bye," she waved, the bashful smile returning to her face. He smiled and waved back.

Sitron lifted his hoof once more, this time forgetting to secure it, sending Hans himself into the freezing cold bay water. Although he knew he would most likely be late for the coronation at this point, he didn't particularly care. He had to get dressed and ready to meet Princess Elsa soon…although that wasn't the princess he wanted to get to know at all.

The coronation was boring, as were most royal traditions. He realized quickly that he was glad he'd never been chosen to attend such events in the past, they were less than thrilling. Sandwiched between other members of royalty and a personal pillow for a large, older man, Hans was oddly at peace however. He was happy he'd made it to the ceremony just in time, having had to stop off and change from his heavy, soaked attire. Luckily, however, his clothes and belongings had been moved to his suite in the castle, where many of the most honored guests were staying as well.

Elsa was, of course, beautiful. But in the moments before the ceremony as she greeted everyone, there was something so cold and closed off about her. He didn't feel the electricity, the instant connection with her, like he did with Anna.

Anna.

Sweet, naïve, silly Anna. He couldn't exactly figure out how he felt about the whole plan anymore. It was easy to see from the get-go that Elsa was going to be a tough nut to crack, and at this point he wasn't even entirely sure that he wanted to, anymore.

The last few weeks he had prepared everything; how he would woo her, what he would say, how it would all go down. The thing about life is that it doesn't always go according to a plan, and although Elsa had freewill to marry whomever she wanted, he had very little faith she was even open to the idea of ANYONE courting her, let alone the 13th born of a long line of jerks.

Anna peeked over at him, smiling happily to see him in the pew. He smiled back, giving her a small wave. The look in her eye was reassuring. Did it really matter which of the two princesses he married? Didn't his father just want him to find happiness?

Hans shook the thoughts out of his head quickly; he was getting carried away. He didn't even KNOW them. And it wasn't about love, none of this was. It was about sticking to the plan. If love grew from that, it would just be icing on the cake. In royalty, it was not uncommon for people who hardly knew each other to marry, it would grow to mutual respect and in the best cases love would follow.

Elsa stood at the front of the chapel, her scepter and orb in hand, while the Bishop chanted in Norse. The coronation was finally nearing the end, and Hans let out a sigh of relieve that he could soon un-pry the large snorer from his aching shoulder.

"Queen Elsa of Arendelle," the Bishop announced.

"Queen Elsa of Arendelle," the congregation repeated.

They all stood and waited for the Queen, Princess Anna and the Bishop to file out before exiting afterward. Hans shook his neighbor awake who awoke with a startle, before standing and stretching his cramped arm.

"What a snooze-fest, eh Lars?" Hans joked lightly, but Lars looked less than amused.

"You missed your meeting with Queen Elsa before the coronation. You barely made it in time," Lars scolded. Hans scoffed and rolled his eyes.

"I told you I-"

"I am beginning to think you are not taking your father's orders seriously. There were numerous suitors lined up to greet her, but The Southern Isles was notably missing. How do you think that makes us look, Hans?" Lars was fuming. Hans shrunk under Lars' angry chagrin; he hadn't thought about how his absence would look to the Queen or her officials. "This is exactly what your father was afraid of," Lars grumbled under his breath. Hans didn't wait around to hear any more, he'd had enough. He turned on a heel and hurriedly walked to his private bedroom chamber. He had a party to get ready for.

A/N

This story follow's Hans' POV during the events of the movie and then beyond. Hope you're enjoying and please leave a review!