A/N: Sooo much positive feedback! I love you all. I've changed the rating of the fic to T just because I don't want to have to insert "T rated spot here" whenever something happens. Most of the story should be safe for younger audiences, but slight cursing/violence from time to time. I will aim for a chapter update once a week if possible. :3 (Reference sake: Sitron=Lemon in Swedish, Kalk= Lime.)

Oh, and if you like this story, you may want to check out my fic one shots which involve Hans. I love to explore his character and I honestly believe he's one of the most complicated characters in Frozen. I may write some more one shots with his family/him based off of this fic as we go along to keep inspiration fresh. Thanks to all my new watchers and reviewers, you are all amazing!

-Chapter Three-

Doors In My Face

Hans trailed his fingers over his chest and abdomen, examining the purple and blue from different angles in the body-length mirror. Each inhale sent a brand new bloom of pain rushing through his body, his stomach quivering. Well, at least they were his country's royal colors. He'd managed a few hours of sleep, which had helped the healing process, but now he was presented with a new dilemma. In a fit of exhaustion, he'd promised Heins company on a ride in the country, but his father had already confined him to the castle. He couldn't do both, but hell would freeze over before he wouldn't try to figure out a way to both please his father and help his brother. He had just began to rack his brain for ideas when a fist pounded against his door, causing him to snag a white robe and tie it over himself, preening his hair enough to look presentable, and opening his door.

Harald stood over him and sneered. "Overslept, did you? Time to rise and shine, little brother. I've spoken to the king and he wishes to hold an audience with the entire family come sundown. I suggest you get dressed before then."

Hans inhaled a silent breath and held it. "I'll be there. Tell father that I'll be there."

"I'll tell him whatever I think is important enough to tell him." His eyes flickered down to the slightest glimpse of bruising on his brother's chest and he jabbed it with a finger, half his mouth twitching into a smile as Hans grimaced, clutching at the spot. "Don't even think about trying to leave. I'll be standing guard at the gates personally until I'm in the same room when your failure is announced to everyone. Your time…" he drew his gaze upward, towards the slow, steady ticking of the golden clock over Hans' door, "is almost up." He started to shut the door, false pleasantries passing over his expression. "Oh, and be sure to take a walk Hans, it's a lovely day in the Isles."

#

"What do you mean you can't go?" Heins pleaded, fingers interlaced, eyes as large as a puppy begging for attention. "You have to go!" He bent down on one knee among the hay on the stable floor, his chestnut horse watching the action, then bowing itself, a trick all of the Southern Isle royal steeds knew to show off to visiting countries and ambassadors. Parrots were entertaining, and dogs were wonderful for hunting, but every brother agreed horses were truly the most useful, so each brother had, in a manner of unwritten traditions, gone with the king to pick his own horse upon his thirteenth birthday.

"I can't," repeated Hans, feeling sorry for his brother, tightening the saddle on Sitron, his horse nipping his shoulder playfully, looking forward to the ride. "I can't go beyond the castle gates. There' s a reason they're shut." The citizens are probably beginning to wonder what's going on behind these doors. Father won't keep them waiting for long. What could he want to tell me? What has he decided?

"But why are they shut?" asked Heins, confusion apparent in his expression. "They haven't been shut since… since Harry left."

The mention of the absence of his brother made Hans quiet for a moment. He shrugged it off as he fitted Sitron's bit between the horse's teeth, following up with a cube of sugar for the trouble, much to his steed's delight. "Wherever he is, he's probably much happier. I don't blame him." Harry, being the brother closest to Hans' age and therefore one he was rather familiar with, had disappeared one night upon his eighteenth year, taking his few possessions with him and leaving only a scrap of paper asking his parents not to look for him. Hans suspected it was because of the arranged marriage, which had been the case for a few of his brothers, though some hadn't worked out as cleanly as planned. "Anyway, it doesn't matter why they're closed, the point is they're closed and I'm not supposed to go beyond them."

"But if we stay on the castle grounds, Princess Orion is sure to find us! You promised you would keep her away from me, Hans! I can't just leave the castle grounds alone, people will get suspicious and Harald is sure to tell father! Then I'd be forced to spend even more time with her! You can't let me down now!"

"I can't helpyou, Heins, I'm sorry, I really am." Hans dipped a foot into one stirrup on Sitron and swung into his horse's saddle, shifting to make himself comfortable. He looked to his brother, who managed the tiniest lip quiver. "Stop looking at me like that! Even if I wanted to go beyond the gates, do you honestly think Harald is going to open them against father's orders just because I say please?" Mentioning his brother's name brought his attention to another hum of pain coming from his chest. He tried to remind himself the purple and blue marks looked royal.

Heins' hope crumbled with his facial expression, knowing too well how his older brother would react. He ventured a last try to convince Hans with a whimper. "He could be nice today?"

"Not likely," replied Hans, giving Sitron a slight tap in the flanks to tell his steed to start a gentle walk. If I could go outside, beyond this walls… even to get away from all of this even for one day… to think about what I did… I would. I have so much to think about… and it's not like bruising ever bothered me, anyway. I'm sorry, Heins. I wish I could help you. You've always been there when I needed someone to play with as a kid, someone to ask opinion of… someone to tell my deepest, darkest secrets… but…

"Prince Heeeeins?" A female voice, with a clear soprano tone, rang through the outer air, sounding as if it were coming closer to the stables. Sitron froze in midstep, ears pointing straight up, flicking towards the source.

"It's her!" gasped Heins, panic seizing his features, looking one way, then the other. "What do I do?"

Hans glanced behind him, gaze settling on a column of bound hay meant for the horses, the only option available for his brother to keep a low profile judging by the closeness of the princess' voice, hissing. "Get behind the hay, quick."

"Prince Heeeeins? Come out, come out, wherever you areee!" the voice rang, footsteps sounding.

Heins dove behind the hay stacks as if his life depended on it, and just in the nick of time, as a woman rounded the corner of the stable doors.

The first feature standing out to Hans was her dress. It was simply huge. He'd never seen a woman wear something this big, this intricate, simply for walking around outside in. It was a soft sky blue color, streaks of white going down to the lacy bottom, and it reminded him vaguely of clouds. The bodice turned from the sky blue into a darker, ocean-colored blue with purple jewels encrusting the silky sleeves, probably a color scheme meant to suck up to his kingdom, since blue and purple were his nation's colors. She had fawn-colored hair, half spilling in ringlet waves down her back and half piled on top of her head in an intricate crown to join a metal tiara, a tiny golden thing encrusted with various jewels. Sparkling blue eyes dashed with a dusting of eyeshadow and a caking of mascara blinked, taking in the view of the stable. Her perfectly pouty lips quirked into a tiny frown and then her eyes alighted on Hans.

She's pretty. A bit overdone, but pretty. Of course, most princesses were good-looking. Hans had seen many, many princesses before this one, and shared many interactions with them. The end results were always very much the same.

"Greetings to you, your highness," she quipped, taking a fold of each end of the dress she wore and dipping royally into a curtsey. "I am Princess Orion of Allorin."

"Good morning, my lady," replied Hans, politeness pouring from him as he bent forward from the saddle in a bow, Sitron following suit.

"May I ask which of the princes you are?" she asked in a tone which conveyed she didn't really care, her hair blowing in a light breeze of the day, exposing tiny flowers intertwined within it. The hair style alone probably took her a few hours to do, Hans mused. As a mental side note, he was once again thankful he'd been born a son. His parents fussed over his looks as much as parents would do for any child, but he'd never had to worry about excessive grooming, confining corsets, or unneeded undergarments like women.

"The Prince Hans. Thirteenth in line of the Southern Isles." The line came so easily and quickly he hardly knew he'd said it.

Her expression remained politely strained, but otherwise impassive. She was clearly unimpressed. "Ah. Tell me, Prince Hans, would you've any idea where your brother, the Prince Heins, has gone?"

And there it was. The same reaction and always the same reason princesses spoke a word to him. Do you know where your older brother "insert name here" is? Do you know "insert names' here" favorite food? What's his favorite sport? What's his favorite color? How much inheritance does he receive? He's behind the haystacks, broccoli and cheese, boules, green, and one thirteenth. Alright, so perhaps the last question wasn't exactly spoken outloud, but Hans knew enough to figure out what they meant by their invasive intrusions. It would have been nice to be the focus of attention… for once. He smiled gracefully, his feigning fueled by irritation at being ignored. "I'm afraid I have no idea, Princess."

Her eyes darted around the stables, settling on Heins' horse, saddled and ready to go, directly beside Hans. "Are you planning a ride with someone, Prince Hans?"

Hans looked to his brother's horse, Kalk, wondering what he could dredge up to sound true. "Just deciding which horse is a better fit for today's ride, milady. The royal steeds are temperamental at times." Sitron turned and nipped at his owner as if to refute this statement.

"Mm." He could tell she didn't believe him one bit, her dark eyelashes batting. "Well then, before I resume my search for your elusive sibling, would you mind doing me the favor of telling me what you think of my gown?"

His opinion on her gown? How could she possibly ask any man such a thing and expect him to know how to answer properly? She must have been vain, searching for compliments to fuel her insecurities. Do all women think men actually know the answer to that question? He remembered how little the Princess Anna had focused on his brothers, his inheritance, or on anything really related to royalty. He truly missed her informality. She'd gone so far as to sock him in the nose with her over enthusiastic storytelling, to talk about underwear and sandwiches and such ridiculously odd things and he'd found it absolutely… charming. Would Elsa have been the same? Whenever he'd seen her, it had been under… stressful circumstances, so he'd never known how she acted normally…

"The gown?" she prompted.

Sitron snorted, snapping his master back into the present day while making his opinion on the matter clear. "Yes? Oh, yes. Your gown is… lovely." Truly a lame response, but the best he could come up with at the moment.

She was clearly disappointed with the lack of detail in his answer, and pursed her lips. "I wanted to impress Prince Heins with it, because, you understand, he's incredibly knowledgeable about fashions, but now I don't know if it will do. I've worn it because it's one of his designs. The man selling it to me has proven it to me. If you see, here," she pointed at a ruffle along her bodice, lifting extra fabric to reveal a golden stitched letter, "the H clearly symbolizes his work. As I told my father, when it comes to a Prince of the Southern Isles, price is no object."

There was a snigger from behind the hay, a noise like someone concealing laughter. Hans paled a little, thinking fast and speaking loud to conceal the noise. "Oh, yes! I'm sure he would find the use of our nation's colors… intriguing… if he were here!"

She walked forward, into the stable, closer to Heins' hiding place, and Hans decided if he were to save his brother from a day with the pompous princess, his acting prowess must come now, and full throttle. She was clearly obsessed with her clothing and her appearance; he would have to abuse it while hoping she'd take the bait. "Wait!" he shouted, thrusting a hand out for her to stop, vaulting off of Sitron, the horses both looking nervous at his sudden change in tone. She had stopped, staring at him with wide, startled eyes. "Your dress, milady! Surely you cannot intend to walk in the stables wearing such a delicate, one-of-a-kind piece."

She dropped her eyes down and gasped as she saw the faintest bits of dirt on the white lace where the dress had brushed the ground. "Oh, my! No! Not my Heins original design! What should I do? I can't meet the Prince looking like this! He'll surely notice! He'll surely be insulted! What have I done?"

"Now, now, my lady, calm down," Hans soothed, holding out both hands. "Don't move. I shall carry you beyond the stable threshold."

She looked him over, and then at the few footsteps she'd need to take to return outside, nodding, holding her arms out. "You may carry me, Prince…" She stopped, clearly having forgotten his name. Hans inwardly rolled his eyes. "Thirteenth Prince."

Any thoughts Hans had dignified of entertaining the princess' company himself to save his brother the trouble were dashed to pieces with her comment. He grit his teeth. "I wouldn't dream of any other way." Bending down, Hans lifted her, grunting to get the entirety of her dress fabrics within his grip. He carried her the few steps leading outside the stable and plopped her purposely down into a small pile of horse dropping with disregard, composing himself. Her look of annoyance was enough to make him feel better as he watched her scrape her heel against the cleaner ground. "I believe my brother was last seen going that way, opposite the stables. You may be able to catch him if you hurry."

The princess gazed over the hardly-affected gown, a few piece of the lace dark in color. "Not like this!" Her fingers moved to the buttons lining the front. Hans gaped as she began to unbutton them, one after another, and then cocked his head in confusion as she stepped completely out of the gown, her dress anew, but completely different, dark green in color with soft lime highlights, likely her own nation's colors. "It's not a Heins original piece, but I can't bear to have him see I've dirtied something he made! Would you be a dear and have this cleaned for me while I continue my search?" She tossed the dress towards the stunned Hans, who fumbled and caught the pile of fabric.

"You… wore two dresses?" He could hardly believe how absurd it was.

"Of course. I have to be prepared should it not be an original piece made by your brother or in case of emergencies." She removed a fan from the folds of satin along her waist and unflipped it, giving herself a little breeze as she faced away from him, her focus quickly drifting. "You may not understand, being so young still, but a true princess has priorities. She has only one chance to impress her future husband, and I'm not going to let the chance go to waste," she remarked, snapping the fan closed and tossing that in his direction as well as if he were a lady in waiting. "Prince HEINS!" she shouted in a much less sweet voice, sauntering off in the opposite direction.

Hans watched her go and waited until she'd completely disappeared before turning back towards the hay. "You can come out now. She's gone."

"You were simply amazing, little brother! I've never seen such acting!" Heins gushed, face bright. "Surely you cannot expect to cross wearing a delicate piece of beauty- and the setting her down in the- I can't even finish my sentences, it was perfect!"

"Now I know why you want to get away from her so badly," replied Hans with a half-grin, tossing the girl's dress to his brother, where he caught it. "Don't let it get dirtier, for heaven's sake!"

Heins held the dress out for inspection and stuck his tongue out, blanching as he draped the fabric over the wall of a stable holding pen to examine it more thoroughly. "If she thinks I'd design anything like this, she's sorely mistaken. The colors are all wrong- too bright a blue, far too bright to be Southern Isles colors… and the fabric bunches in the bodice… an H? Did she really think I'd be so presumptuous as to put my own initial on something I made? She's absolutely impossible if she thinks I'm going anywhere with her! Do you think we can do anything to keep it that way?" He tossed the dress back at his brother, where Hans fumbled to catch it, chuckling a little as he lifted it up against himself, the fabric almost big enough to hold himself and his brother unbuttoned.

"It's more like a tent than a dress! We can hide, but you know it's only a matter of time before one of the brothers rats us out… I ran into Helm on the way here. You know how honest he is. He'd tell her everything about where we are without suspecting a thing. What I wouldn't give to be able to go past the gates for a ride, just until sundown, when I meet with mother and father. I really wish there were something I could do… but I can't go beyond the gates, and you can't go alone… looks like we're both destined to endure the worst."

Heins opened his mouth to reply, and then tilted his head, a slow smile taking over his face as if he'd just been given a great idea. "How badly do you want to go?"

"What do you mean?" Hans asked, raising an eyebrow.

Heins just grinned, advancing and circling Hans once. "How badly do you want to go? Because if you're willing to do what I say… I think I have an idea. But we'll have to work fast. You'll have to trust me, little brother."

"Hans! Hans, where are you? I know you're out here!"

Hans quirked an eyebrow, glancing outside. He saw the tall, thin figure of his brother Horatio approaching, accounting book in hand, and he looked angry. He turned back to Heins, desperation winning out. He'd already faced the fury of one brother last night, and he had no intention of facing another anytime soon. "Yes! Yes, I trust you. If you have a plan… let's do it."

#

"Heins! Heins!" shouted Horatio, making him stop Kalk in midstep, giving his brother attention. "Have you seen Hans anywhere? I need to have a talk with him about his experiences in Arendelle." He snapped the open book in his hand shut. Although Horatio wore an expression as if he were attending a funeral, and dressed much the same in moody, dark colors, he was an excellent treasurer for the king. "It's very important." Hoof beats sounded as a hooded figure rode up next to Heins, side saddle as ladies normally did, folds of the elegant gown spilling over the side of the horse, who Horatio recognized as Sitron. "Oh… I didn't know you were entertaining anyone."

Heins flashed him a brilliant smile. "This is the Princess Orion of Allorin. She and I are going for a short ride out in the countryside. I'm sure Hans can't get far, not without Sitron. The Princess needed a steed so I picked out the most gentle of ours to use."

Horatio blinked, looking over the figure of the shadowed woman, who flapped her fan a few times in front of her face, a pair of green eyes vaguely sparkling beneath the hood. "My lady," he said, nodding. "Well, if you see Hans, you would do well to tell him we need to speak as soon as possible."

"I will, I promise." Heins crossed his heart, turning to his company. "Shall we go, milady?"

Horatio watched the two of them riding off, noting Heins' words sounded strained. He felt sorry his brother had to endure the company of such an unflattering woman, returning to his search before he could hear his brother's laughter.

Heins had composed himself by the time he arrived before the shut gates, nodding to the guard on duty, "Good afternoon! If you wouldn't mind opening the gates, we need access to the countryside."

The soldier turned to a companion nearby, and then looked back, but not at Heins, his hand snapping to a salute.

"What are you doing?" Harald walked up to his brother, eyes narrowed, face set in a stern glower. "The gates are shut."

"I know that!" Heins waved a hand as if it were a trivial thing. "But I want to take Kalk for a ride in the countryside with my company, the Princess Orion."

"Princess?" Harald stepped around his brother and gazed at the massive dress hanging off the cloaked figure, blinking. The green eyes behind the lacy fan sparkled. His steely gaze sharpened. "I don't think the king will take well to anyone leaving the courtyards, even if they're entertaining visiting royalty. You aren't going anywhere."

Heins simply smiled. "If that's how you feel, Harald. Then I'll just have to take my plea before father myself and you can explain to him how you'll apologize to the kingdom of Allorin for such a slight… how terribly you've shirked your duty."

Harald stiffened, eyes passing from the Princess to Heins, and then behind him to the castle. He frowned, thick eyebrows narrowing with his eyes, silent for a moment before responding. "I suppose small exceptions can be made. You have one hour for whatever frolic you may fancy before I come after you myself… and make no mistake, I will come after you."

"You've got a deal!" Heins exclaimed, leading the way as the two slipped between the opening gates, crossing the drawbridge and disappearing across the massive stone bridge leading to the town beyond, the gates thundering shut once more.

"But… but sir…" stumbled one of the two soldiers, still new under Harald's command. "Would it not be prudent to allow any interactions with visiting royalty?"

The head of the militia turned his back on the soldiers and headed for the castle. "Indeed it would, if that were royalty. Keep the gates closed. I have a matter of business to attend to with the king."

Puzzled, the soldiers returned to their guard as vigilantly as ever, never seeing the scheming smile slowly creep onto their captain's face.

#

Slight after note: I could have expanded the length of this chapter a lot more with events I've saved for the next, but I think this is a good general length for most chapters. What do you readers think? Should I make the chapters longer but wait longer for updates? Or this length generally and update more regularly? And one more time, thank you to everyone for taking the time to read and enjoy; you guys are the reason I do it.