The bouquet was a mass of ivory gardenias. Symbols of purity and joy. A round of applause and congratulations erupted around her. Elsa hadn't meant to catch them. She sat at the table nearest the chocolate tower to prevent such a thing. Turns out Princess Blaithin had quite an adept arm. The musicians struck a fast rhythm and the crowd that surrounded her dispersed to dance. "Your majesty, shall I take the flowers to your quarters?" said a voice by her ear

"That won't be necessary."

Elsa finished the last of her champagne. She glanced down to see familiar black boots by her side. The party was in full swing, perhaps it would be better for her to return once the waltzes had begun. Her light steps were accompanied by a strong military strut, and the jingle of a sword's hilt. Hans was an excellent shadow since joining her guard. They arrived at her chambers and he swept past to open the doors for her.

"Thank you." said Elsa

He bowed and moved to leave. At the corner of her eye she barely registered his retreat. However, an overwhelming anxiety settled in her stomach. Was it to be this way always? She saw more than felt the tips of her fingers begin to frost. The magic itching to let go. Then, without much thought she grabbed the sleeve of his uniform. "Your majesty?"

"I need you to stay. Just for a little while?"

Snowflakes danced lazily in their vision, but they faded as she took slow breathes. Hans held her hand and guided her to the bed. The plush mattress gave way as they sat side by side. She passed the bouquet to him, and he placed it on her bedside table.

"How may I be of service my queen?"

It was a strange thing to realize, but Elsa had not truly looked at Hans till now. In her mind he had always been something of a dark cloud over the castle. Once or twice she would spot him at work and her blood would begin to race with sheer hatred. Yet, he was now her protector. "Hans, have you ever thought of your wedding day?"

She bit her lip expecting him to laugh at her. Instead, he had gone stone still. Hans had a faraway look in his eyes. The green flickered in the warm hue of lamp light and she swore it was molten gold.

"Frankly your majesty, I believed my wedding day would be with you at my side."

Elsa tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear. Ah, because she was preferable. He had the same intentions as every other prince on her coronation. "That's precisely why I wanted to ask you this."

"How so?"
"In the end, you never pursued me. Why?"

The question hung in the air. Time had stopped for the both of them. Why hadn't it gone as planned? Happily ever afters were things nobles were entitled to were they not? Hans pursed his lips like he had been punched in the gut. Elsa swore she could hear him grit his teeth until he grinned. "Forgive me Elsa, but do you fear you'll never see your wedding day?"

"Answer the question."

She crossed her arms in defiance. He chuckled and removed his helmet. The shock of red hair darker than Anna's. He pinched his nose with thumb and forefinger then said, "You do realize you're one of the most eligible queens in Europe?"

"If you refuse to answer then please leave."
"I do not intend to offend your highness."

Elsa couldn't explain it, but the smirk on his face made her blood boil. She would like nothing more than to slap it off. "You mock me."

"Never."

Hans moved closer. A radiant heat seemed to come from his very skin. Elsa wanted more. What it was she wasn't sure, but she gripped the sheets and leaned back a fraction.

"Then why?"
"You're my mirror."
"What?"

He snaked a gloved hand behind her neck. The smell of the leather intoxicating. They were so close now the only thing she could see in his gaze was her reflection. It frightened her.

"They rejected you too didn't they?" said Hans
"Who?"
"The ones who were supposed to love you most."
"I was dangerous."
"Elsa, you were a little girl."

Frost clung to the bed post. Hans didn't react to it, lost in search of an answer of his own. Conceal. Don't feel. Had they shared the same mantra as children? Elsa licked her lips.

"Hans, let me go."

He released her. An alien sensation caused the first pinpricks of tears to well in downcast eyes. For the first time in forever, the cold bothered her.

"It wouldn't have worked out between us." said Hans
"I don't understand."

He tilted her chin to look at him.

"Elsa, there were too many cracks to mend."

Neither knew who moved first. They collided in a chorus of gasps and sobs. Elsa held his jacket in a vice-like grip. Hans cupped her cheek so softly it was like a brush of feathers. All they could taste was salt and longing. And at its end there was solace in knowing mirrors always lied.