Chapter 11:

Warming Up

"Ouch!" Hans yelled. His hand was burning; he was entirely certain that at this point it had to be completely broken.

"Oh, hush, you big baby. Hold still," Marguerite scolded, pressing the ice harder to his bruising knuckles. "We need to get the swelling down." Hans was in a great deal of pain, but the fact that he'd given Isaak a black eye was too delighting to let it bother him too badly. Marguerite sat, ice in hand, trying to nurse the poor prince's hand to health, Edvard beside them. "Now, tell me again how this happened?" Marguerite demanded in her motherly tone. Hans went to speak, but Edvard stepped in first.

"Hans here took out some pent up aggression on Isaak's angelic face," Edvard said, trying his best to contain his smirk. Marguerite grinned, shaking her head.

"Boys will be boys," she sighed before leaning in towards Hans, her kind eyes sparkling. "And Isaak has been needing a whooping for a long time, if you ask me. Always complaining about my cooking, make it your damn self…" she muttered.

"Marguerite! Don't encourage him…" Edvard gasped, feigning mock disgust. He raised one eyebrow at his wincing, pain-ridden little brother. "Besides, Hans had a leg up on his brother. He may have a broken hand but it was Isaak that walked away with a black eye and a bruised ego." Hans smiled weakly, still on a bit of a high from the fight, and a little loopy from the pain medicine that Marguerite had fed him.

"What did he mean by that anyway," Hans mused aloud, his mind clearly on other things. "I shall start with yours," he sneered in his best Isaak impression, although it was still notable awful. Edvard slapped his brother on the back.

"I should say that means he will be trying to court princess Anna, wouldn't you agree?" Hans shook his head disgustedly. "I don't see what the problem is; he's distinguished, charming, single…" Edvard listed, although he sounded less than sincere.

"Manipulative, promiscuous, lying…" Hans continued. "No, Princess Anna would never court someone like Isaak," Hans scoffed.

"Why not? She agreed to marry you…" Edvard pointed out, shrugging nonchalantly. "Are you not all those above things?"

"I still have one good hand, Edvard. I'd watch your words carefully…" Hans warned in jest.

"What does it matter to you, anyway. You can't stand the girl. Let Isaak take her off your hands," Marguerite suggested, beginning to wrap Hans' maimed hand in gauze.

"What? What happened to all of love and marriage talk from this morning?" Hans asked, his mouth agape at her complete change of tune. Marguerite sighed.

"You shot that down pretty quickly, I assumed you meant it…" Marguerite rationalized, her eyes darting from his hand to his eyes skeptically, as if she were trying to bait him. It was working. Hans sat, silently stirring. Even though Anna wasn't his favorite person in the world, even though her determination cost him the throne of Arendelle, he surely didn't think she deserved to be at the disposal of another Westergaard.

No, surely she doesn't deserve that.

"Well, I certainly can't just let her get wooed by Isaak, that would be disastrous…" He noted, before noticing Edvard and Marguerite staring at him. "F-for various reasons. Certainly he will break her heart, and then any trade negotiations with Arendelle will be back out the window…and I can't expect she'd be too kind to me at my trial if yet another Southern Isles prince destroyed her…" Hans said, rubbing his chin with his good hand in deep thought. "No, that wouldn't end well for me at all."

"Perhaps you could try… Oh, never mind…" Marguerite said, eying Edvard, who seemed to have a similar idea.

"What?" Hans inquired.

"You won't like it," Marguerite said, dismissively.

"After the food cart idea, I probably won't. But I am kind of at a loss here," Hans said, looking between his brother and Marguerite desperately.

"You could try being nice to her," Edvard suggested.

"Ha!" Hans exploded, unintentionally. "I mean, how does that solve me predicament?"

"Well, if Princess Anna was too busy being cared for and doted on by you, perchance she will be too distracted to be wooed by your brother, eh?"

"Here we go with the love talk again," Hans sighed, running his hand through his hair, annoyed.

"No one said anything about love, Hans," Edvard said. "You don't have to get her to fall in love with you, that would be another selfish, dishonest ploy of yours to get what you want. Why don't you try being her friend?" Hans sat, thinking it over. Perhaps it was the medication. Perhaps it was the victory he'd had over his irritating, awful brother. Perhaps it was human contact in general. But Hans felt himself warming up to the idea, and he realized he may have already discovered the perfect way to start over with Anna on the right foot.

The room was freezing, illuminated by a dusting of snow upon the furniture of Elsa's private chamber. She was pacing back and forth, haphazardly packing a satchel. Kristoff stood in the doorway, feeling quite uncomfortable with the idea of coming in any further to the Queen's bedroom. His hat was off, he was wringing it in his hands nervously.

"Wait…so…Anna is sick?" Kristoff asked, trying to stuff down the upset in his voice. From what he knew about the fragile Queen, she was most clearly worried enough for the both of them, he didn't need to exacerbate things with his own apprehension. It was bad enough that Anna left without even telling him she was going, nor caring about what he would think of the matter; now she was hundreds of miles away in the kingdom of their enemy, and sick to boot.

Oh, Anna…what are we going to do with you…

"Yes," Elsa choked out, blinking away tears. Kristoff waited for her to elaborate, but it was clear she was too distraught to do so without prompting.

"Do they know what it is?" he inquired. Elsa shook her head, frustrated.

"No, just that it's bad. She's weak, she can't keep food down," she said, panic in her voice. "I'm such a fool for letting her go, I should have-" Elsa grumbled, giving herself a firm scolding as she shoved various articles of clothing in her bag.

Kristoff felt nothing but pity for the poor woman, beating herself up for something she clearly couldn't control. He well enough that Elsa wouldn't have been able to stop Anna from going to the Southern Isles; when Anna got an idea of something she wanted to do, she went right along and did it, regardless of the odds. It was that same plucky disposition that got her into trouble most of the time.

Kristoff entered the room further, standing in the way of the Queen's pacing. He took hold of her shoulders, stopping her in her tracks.

"Not now, Kristoff-" she said, her face white with worry. He wasn't sure if it was worry for her sister, or worry that her uneven emotions could potentially leave him impaled on a shard of ice if he got too close. He assumed it was a mixture of the two, but he was willing to take that chance. He glanced down at her, his soft, sympathetic eyes meeting her own. He tried his best to keep from shuddering as he spoke to her; then again, he was used to being cold.

Ice is my life.

"Hey, it's okay," he said, calmingly. In fact, it was so convincing that he almost believed it himself. Elsa's face collided with Kristoff's broad, strong chest, and for a moment she let herself be weak, vulnerable. She let out a few gentle, silent sobs before pulling away and wiping away the tears quickly, defiantly.

"I leave for the Southern Isles tonight; please don't try to stop me," she said sternly. Kristoff stared at her, his eyes wide.

"I wasn't going to," he reassured. "But… if you'd let me, I'd like to come along, too." Elsa paused, furrowing her brow and thought before she shrugged a bit, nodded.

"That would be fine," she agreed, moving from his arms to continue to pack. Kristoff turned to leave the room, nearing the tall, chamber door. "I never should have let her go alone, Kristoff…" she said regretfully, her hands clasped together over her heart. Kristoff paused at the door, staring at the troubled Queen. A weak, ironic smile spread across his face.

"Don't be too hard on yourself, your majesty," he comforted. "At least she didn't feel the need to travel hundreds of miles away just to get away from you." he said somberly. Elsa's eyes widened, her mouth dropping. "I might not be the smartest man, but I'm not that dumb…"

"Kristoff, no, I-" she stammered. "Look, Anna didn't-" she tried to defend the actions of her sister. Kristoff's smile faded into a look of muted sadness.

"It's fine, Elsa. Let's just go get your sister back, safe and sound."

Anna began to stir, awakening from her nap. She yawned, sitting up in the bed to stretch. She snapped her arms out, only noticing Hans sleeping, all propped up in the sitting chair beside her, when her hand made direct and sudden contact with his face.

"Ow!" he yelped, rubbing his nose. "Oh, come on!" He glared right at her as she recoiled, giggling.

"Whoopsie," she laughed.

"Well, that's one way to wake up," he said rhetorically.

"You know, now that I think of it, I may have punched you in the face more times than I can count at this point…" she mused. Her face turned more serious. "Also, what are you doing here? I didn't ask for bedside service, you creep," she said huffily, pulling the blankets up to maintain her modesty.

"Oh, princess. I've seen much more of you than that, no need to be shy," he said crudely, ripping her blankets down and off of her. Anna scrambled down towards the bottom of the bed, clutching the blankets in her hands, frustration painting her face. "And just think!" he leaned down, his face a mere few inches from hers. "If things had gone better in Arendelle, I'd have seen every inch of you by now," he smirked. Anna gasped, pushing his face away with her hand.

"That's no way to talk to a lady, sir," Anna said, her eyebrows low.

"Well," he sighed, standing up and placing a hand to her forehead, checking for a temperature. She flinched at his soft touch, like a nervous cat. "It's a good thing there are no ladies here, then, right?" he said, turning and walking towards her door. Anna stared after him.

"Hey, wait! Where are you going now?" she asked, nervously, throwing the blankets off of her herself this time and standing abruptly. Hans glanced back at her, watching her wobble a bit, clearly underestimating her weakness.

"Whoa!" he exclaimed, running back towards her and arriving just in time for her to fall into his arms. He held the princess up, who looked up at him embarrassedly through blue eyes and thick eyelashes, clinging to the fabric of the front of his jacket. "What are you doing?" he chuckled, flabbergasted at her erratic and desperate behavior. "Are you crazy?"

"Ohhhh, no you don't! I am not getting left in here all alone again," she grunted determinedly as she pulled herself up to him, their bodies close.

"Why do I feel like we've been in this position before?" he joked, an eyebrow cocked. Hans glanced down at her, suddenly noticing just how incredibly thin and sheer her nightgown really was. He gulped, cleared his throat uncomfortably, and lead her backwards to sit upon the bed once more.

"Are you leaving again?" she asked, wringing her hands nervously.

"Relax, Anna. I was just getting something I left outside in the corridor for you," he explained, her cheeks beginning to pinken.

"Oh," she said quietly. "Well, what is it?" she asked, quickly deflecting from their previous awkwardness.

"Hold on," he said, and if she hadn't known better, she could almost even sense a smidge of excitement in his voice. He jogged over to the door, opening it and disappearing for a few seconds before reentering, wheeling in an old, wooden wheelchair. Anna gawked at it, unimpressed at first.

"A wheelchair?" she asked, flatly. Hans raised his eyebrows, waiting for her to connect the dots. Much to his delight, her face began to light up as she realized just what a wheelchair meant for her. "A wheelchair!" she exclaimed, clapping her hands together excitedly and then cupping her smiling mouth. "Does this mean…you mean I can-" she stammered. Hans nodded.

"You may leave this horrible prison we've kept you locked up in," he said dramatically, wheeling it towards her. She reached out to touch it, as if it weren't real, so relieved that she could get out of that room, finally.

"Why did you- When can I-" she muttered. She glanced up at him, her smile beaming. "Why did you do this?" she asked. Hans shrugged.

"I figured that all those years stuffed up in a castle were enough," he said thoughtfully. She bit her lip.

"Thank you," she finally said. Hans made a face, sighing heavily. "What?"

"Well, I don't know how to say this, Anna but you look…" he paused, her eyes looking up at him hopefully. She truly was a natural beauty, even with her dark circles under her eyes and her wan, sick complexion. "Awful," he finished. Her face fell.

"Well, excuse me, Mr. Fancy Pants, I've been sick!" she defended. He laughed at her offense.

"Well, I can't present you at dinner tonight looking like this," he said, his hand up at his chin in thought.

"Dinner? Like…real food? With people?" she exclaimed, not able to contain the joy in her voice. Hans nodded, then turned towards the chamber door.

"Marguerite!" he called. From the hallway, Marguerite entered with a brush in her hand, a dress draped over her other arm. She smiled widely at the princess, an extra bounce in her step as she excitedly neared her.

"Such an honor to meet you, Princess," Marguerite beamed, curtseying. Anna looked between Hans and Marguerite suspiciously. She leaned towards Hans.

"Was she…just sitting outside the door waiting for me to wake up?" she asked accusingly. Hans waved his hand dismissingly.

"Oh, she was fine," he said. Marguerite nodded, happily.

"I didn't mind. I was just so excited to get to meet you, I've heard all about you," she gushed. Hans glanced in her direction, laughing nervously.

"O-okay, Marguerite," Hans said, warningly, patting her on the back. "That's enough…"

"Everything."

"I see," Anna said smugly, eying Hans, enjoying the sight of him squirming.

"It's always, 'Princess Anna this,' or 'Princess Anna that,' with this one," Marguerite continued, much to Hans' horror. Her words finally trailed off as she noticed his death glare in her direction.

"She gets it," Hans snapped, embarrassed. He glanced back over at Anna, who was trying to suppress her laughter. "But…here. We've had a dress altered for you," he presented, holding up a royal blue gown with a heart shaped bodice, lined in gold. Anna's eyes grew huge as she reached out and admired the velvet top. "It was my mother's. Consider it a gift."

"You guys, this is beautiful!" She took the dress in her hands, delicately. "I…no. I couldn't…I can't!"

"Nonsense, she's not getting any use out of it, now, is she?" Hans said, albeit a bit morbidly.

"How-how do you know it will fit?" Anna asked, looking at Hans skeptically.

"Remember how I said I've seen much more of you?" he teased. Anna's face turned beet red.

"We took your measurements while you slept!" Marguerite spouted off, delightedly. Anna paled at the implication.

"Wonderful," she groaned.

"Oh, darling, you have nothing to be ashamed of," Marguerite comforted.

"I'll say," Hans mumbled under his breath, reddening when he realized he'd said it aloud. He coughed, nodded. "I'll leave you ladies to it…be ready in fifteen minutes, dinner will be served soon and we wouldn't want to be late," Hans instructed, back to business. After a couple of fumbling seconds, Hans turned and walked towards the door, stumbling and nearly tripping the Persian rug on his way out, before finally reaching the door and shutting it behind him.

Hans paced the hallway outside of Anna's bedroom chamber, realizing after a few steps that this was most likely going to be an ongoing theme for him, pacing. He didn't know why he felt nervous, just hoped that his actions would be recognized as kind in her eyes; he'd never been too good at that without it being a charade. He tried to remember who he was the first time he met her, how he impressed her then. He didn't feel like he was being a fraudulent version of himself, but then again so much had happened, so much had changed, since the night of the coronation.

He checked his pocket watch, realizing it was well past the fifteen minutes he'd allotted them. He considered knocking on the door, but what good was that? He'd just appear impatient and demanding, which he was, but he would really like to avoid seeming that way.

On cue, the doors opened, and Marguerite poked her head out.

"We're ready," she sang, a knowing and mischievous look in her eyes. Hans took in a sharp breath. Was he ready? He didn't know. But there was no going back now.

"Alright," he said, waving her on. "Let's go on with it, then."

Marguerite opened the door wide, to reveal a waiting and lovely Anna. She was draped in the blue, velvet dress that seemed to bring out her eyes and make her hair pop all at the same time. Her hair was up in a braided bun, her cheeks rouged and her lips red, ever the picture of elegance and beauty. Hans closed his mouth, only after realizing that it was agape. He nodded, bowing down slightly.

"What do you think?" she asked, twirling a bit, the skirt flowing out to the sides.

"You look…" he paused, searching for the right words. The added pressure from Marguerite and Anna's hopeful faces didn't help. "It seems to fit you well," he settled on, watching their faces fall at the same time. "Now, let's get you in that chair before you wear yourself out."

Hans wheeled Anna down the corridor, giving her a full tour of the sprawling castle. They'd visited the ballroom, the library, the conservatory and the conference room. Hans was running out of neutral territories to show her, but she seemed happy and relieved to be out of her chamber.

"What about your room," she asked, a little deviousness in her voice.

"What about my room…" he asked.

"I want to know where the Devil sleeps," Anna shrugged. Hans glanced down at her, who in turn looked upward at him, her blue eyes shining. Hans smiled down at her wryly.

"That would actually be my brother Sedak's room, and you certainly do not want to go in there," he deadpanned.

"What about the dinning hall?" she suggested, noticing they'd rounded the same corner for the second time.

"You'll be there for dinner soon enough."

"Well, show me your favorite room, then."

"I don't…" he paused. The portrait room! Of course, he'd not shown her the sitting area by the window, the portrait gallery. "Alright," he said, picking up the pace. Before she knew it, Hans had her at a sprinting speed, the wheelchair whirling down the corridors rapidly.

"H-Hey! Slow down!" she shouted, but Hans didn't listen. They approached a set of closed double doors, the momentum so great that she nearly flew out of the chair when he halted to a stop. "Thanks for the adrenaline rush, I think," Anna said sarcastically. Hans came around the chair, enthusiastically taking the princess' hands in his own.

"This is my favorite place in the whole castle," he smiled. She stared at him with a goofy, confused smile.

"Okay, show me.'

Hans turned and opened the doors with a bang, the evening sunlight pouring through the windows of the grand portrait gallery, illuminating everything in its warm glow. Anna peered in, beginning to wheel herself forward. Hans turned towards her, walking backwards, his arms outstretched.

"This is the portrait gallery," he announced, although the way she was looking around the whole room in awe made it clear she'd already drawn that conclusion.

"Wow," she breathed. "It's huge, way bigger than mine."

"My father had commissioned paintings from all the royal families we'd met."

"They're beautiful."

"I used…I used to spend a lot of time in here as a kid," Hans stated, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. Anna glanced at him, her eyes widening.

"What happened to your hand?" she'd finally noticed. Hans pulled his hand away, extending it out and taking a good look at it.

"Oh this?" he asked. She nodded. "I broke it saving some orphans from a fire. You were asleep for a long time," he joked. She smirked, her eyes narrow, her face unconvinced.

"Yeah right, what really happened." Hans suddenly felt embarrassed to admit his scuffle with Isaak, since it seemed so petty and unimportant now.

"I got into a fight," he mumbled, almost inaudibly.

"With who?"

"My brother," he admitted.

"Which one?"

"Well, here, let me show you," he said, turning her around and wheeling her down a long row of handsome princes staring back at her, their portraits all hanging in a row. Her eyes grew large and her mouth hung open as she studied them.

"Wow, there really are a lot of you," she breathed. He chuckled. "And you all look so much a like," she observed. "I've met this one," she said, pointing to Elias. "He's the king now." Hans nodded. "Is he married?"

"Yes, to Princess…well, I guess she'd be considered Queen now, Giana. She's very reserved and beautiful…Don't know what she sees in him." Anna smirked.

"And this one?" she said, pointing to the next portrait, the prince in glasses.

"Frederick. A serial bachelor, more interested in learning than anything else. And this one," he pointed to the next one, "is Galen. He's hardly here; he lives a more humble life in the kingdom of Gerveis, he'd got two cute little princesses of his own." Anna glanced up at Hans, surprised.

"I wouldn't expect you to have a soft spot for children," she said. Hans shrugged.

"They're not just children, they are my nieces. And they adore me, so the feeling is mutual. Plus, Galen's never been too awful to me." Anna's eyes reverted back to the paintings, eying the fourth prince.

"And this one?" she asked. Hans was quiet, taking in a deep breath.

"That's Andreas. He was the only brother that was consistently kind to me, growing up. He passed away a few years ago…he got quite ill and just never recovered. His widow and son live in Corona, now."

"My aunt and uncle are the rulers of Corona, and cousin is the Princess," Anna said, lightly.

"Rupunzel?" She glanced up at him, confused.

"Do you know her?"

"Yes, my family has done trade with Corona for generations. My brother Mathias was betrothed to her before she went missing as an infant, but by the time they'd found her she was already spoken for. She's wonderful," he recalled. "And this.." he pointed to the next one. "This is Edvard. He's a good man, he chose a life of celibacy and priesthood. He's here all the time, though."

"I can't believe one of you is a priest! That's hard to believe."

"We're not all that bad, Anna," Hans sighed. "Well, not to others, at least. To me, they weren't so kind."

"Onto the next!" Anna demanded, changing the subject. "Are these two twins?"

"Yes, but they are drunks; they are not all that worth knowing, I regret to say," he said sadly. "They were especially hard to stomach, growing up. They did, however, give me my first taste of wine at nine years old."

"That seems a bit young," Anna reflected.

"Well, they only did it so they could tell my father afterwards, I got 10 lashes for that one!"

"Sounds awful," she groaned. She peered up at the next one. "Well, hello there," Anna growled, staring at the portrait of Isaak.

"Oh, come on," Hans groaned. "You couldn't possibly tell me that-"

"What? He's dreamy," Anna drooled. "Why didn't they send him to Elsa's coronation, huh?" she jested, elbowing Hans playfully.

"Because Isaak has a reputation that usually precedes him."

"For being carved out of marble like a Greek god?" she teased.

"Uh, no. And I am going to pretend I didn't hear that," Hans sighed, Anna giggling. "And anyway, he looks much worse with a black eye," Hans said, finally alluding to his broken hand.

"That's the one you got into a fight with!? Over what? Who has better hair?" she laughed, snorting a bit.

"Don't worry about it," Hans said simply, wheeling her forward.

"Well, he doesn't look very nice," she observed, staring at the portrait of Sedak.

"He's not," Hans said, clenching his jaw. He rounded the wheelchair, kneeling down beside her. "Listen, Sedak is by far the worst of the Westergaards. Should you see him, keep your contact brief. Just…trust me on this one," he pled. She nodded obediently.

"I'm sure you have your reasons…" Anna said. Hans pointed to the next two portraits, another set of twins.

"Mathias and Magnus," he announced respectively. "Magus is Admiral of the Fleet of the Southern Isles Navy, just above me. They could not be any more different, though. Mathias is a poet, and he is engaged to Princess Agnus of the West Cannes."

"And this one?" she said pointing to Felix.

"Felix was actually betrothed to Elsa." Anna's face perked up at the mention of her sister's name.

"He was?"

"Yes, before your parent's…um," he stopped, realizing how insensitive this conversation was becoming. "Anyways, he is ruling Romany with alongside his wife, Queen Adelaide," Hans finished. Anna wheeled herself closer to the final portrait, eyeing it intently. She studied it, slightly awestruck before turning back towards him.

"Tell me about this one," she said simply. Hans shrugged, somberly.

"What do you want to know?"

"Whatever you want to say about him."

"What can I say?" Hans asked, rhetorically. Anna never let her gaze falter from his. He sighed again. "He was different from the rest of the brothers; born of a different mother, a commoner. And his brothers never let him forget it. So he tried very hard, to no avail, to impress his brothers and be noticed by someone. Unfortunately, it never got much better, either."

"I imagine that was very hard," she whispered. Hans quickly wheeled her around, taking her away from the shrine of the thirteen princes. He took her to the sitting window, where he pointed to a large, lifesize painting that hung beside it.

"Do you know who these people are?" he asked, rolling her right up to the family portrait of Anna, Elsa and their parents. Anna's eyes immediately filled with tears.

"Wha- how did you…where did you...?" she stammered, her words trailing off. Hans pushed her closer, her fingertips grazing the canvass over her own, young face.

"Your parents sent it long ago. I used to spend hours in here at a time when I was little, sitting in that window, reading books and talking to the enchanting, sweet princesses that stared back at me," he confessed. Anna swallowed hard. She didn't realize until this moment just how much she missed her parents, how much she missed Elsa.

"Hans, I-" she paused, wiping away tears quickly, but it was too late. He'd already seen that she was crying.

"What? What is it?" He asked, concerned.

"Just…thank you. Thank you for taking me out of my room today. Thank you for this, all of this," she said, her arms outstretched as she scanned the room all over again. He placed his hand on hers, smiling warmly.

"Thank you for letting me," he said.

"Your majesty?" They both jumped, startled to see a servant had entered the room, interrupting their moment. "Dinner is served."

a/n

Wow, that was a lot to write tonight.

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