A/N: As always, a thank you to readers, watchers, favorites, and most of all reviewers of all ages! Isn't the art of my story just fantastic? I'm sorry but I can't get over it; so much feedback is amazing to me. You're all so supportive, thank you from the bottom of my heart. Sorry this one's not too long. The next one should be much longer, if it goes according to plan.

-Chapter Ten-

The Unexpected Visitor

Somewhere in the unnamed place between awareness and unconsciousness, voices blurrily floated out of the empty space, familiar enough to make his mind stir. Hans remained in the more comfortable state of darkness, choosing not to try to open his eyes. He would have been more than happy to let himself slip away completely, but there was a throbbing in his jaw which seemed dedicated to keeping him awake. He began to grow more aware of it as someone touched the quivering muscle, even if they were clearly trying not to be rough. Stuck in-between being awake and letting himself fall back into unconsciousness, Hans listened as the words became clearer and finally formed sentences he could understand.

"…I heard what happened from the other harvesters; they told me he just stood there while you fell in, just stood there. I mean, I knew he was cold-blooded after everything that happened the last time he was here, but to let his own brother drown in front of him and not even try to get to you? Even I didn't think he'd do something so heartless." Kristoff's voice, gruff and stony, was chiseled to a cynical point.

"… if you knew the whole story, you wouldn't be so quick to say that," Heins countered, his tone level and even, protective in nature. He sounded close enough to touch, and as if to prove his point, Hans felt a cold compress of cloth set on top of his smarting jaw by gentle hands.

"Why? What's the story?" the mountain man grunted.

Heins hesitated, leaving the only noise in the room the crackle of the fire mingling with the ticking of the clock. Then, in a quiet voice, he continued. "Hans has fallen through thin ice once before…"

"So what?" Kristoff looked back at the limp form of the prince on top of the cot and added as an afterthought, "When?"

"It was a long time ago." Heins brushed some of his brother's hair back, lifting the cloth compress to examine the darkened swelling around the sideburns before replacing it. "I was only seven years old, which means Hans was five. I guess since he's almost twenty-three, that would make it… eighteen years ago now. Seems like you could forget a lot over eighteen years, doesn't it?" His expression dropped into a disturbed frown of concern.

"I guess so," replied Kristoff, mulling over this new information as he decided whether it changed anything.

It didn't.

Yet, as much as he might hate to admit, Kristoff had always suffered from an insatiable interest in everything ice, and accidents involving ice were no exception. So, stoking the fire to pretend he wasn't as interested as he let on, he pressed the matter further. "But why should that make a difference?"

"There's more to the story-" Heins suddenly pressed his lips tightly together and shook his head. When he started again, he seemed to have changed his train of thought. "The experienced traumatized him. When he was rushed back to the castle after the accident, everyone immediately thought he would die. They've always thought the worst about Hans. You see, there's some kind of… of… " Heins searched for the right word with a waft of his hand, coming up short, "super superstition with people when it comes to the thirteenth anything. It's plagued him all his life, starting immediately after he was born; he was so much smaller than any of the brothers were when we arrived… the doctors said mother and father should prepare for the worst. Can you believe that? It's the same night they deliver a baby and the land's best physicians reveal they don't think he'll be able to survive until morning. You can imagine how much faith they had in his overcoming something as severe as hypothermia after the fall through the ice."

"They were wrong, I guess," Kristoff remarked, eyes trained on Heins, musing about what the prince was keeping secret.

"Only partially. He survived the hypothermia, but he grew very sick; the doctors said it was pneumonia. I remember he had to stay in bed constantly; he was hot to touch, and they had to change his sheets every day because of the night sweating. As time passed, the different attempts to treat his illness, the amount of medications… it only made everything stressed. One day, I guess due to some frustrations, the doctors just…gave up trying. They said… they said he was destined to die. It made my father furious enough to dismiss them all. That's when our current castle doctor, a friend of the family, she came in and treated him. She wouldn't give up on him."

"So she healed him."

"Yes and no. It took a lot of time, but Hans finally recovered… that is, from the sickness."

"Go on." Kristoff felt himself listening all the more intently.

"He wasn't… physically sick anymore. But after he recovered… he just… stopped caring. He wouldn't talk to anyone; he wouldn't get out of bed. He'd just stay shut away in his room all day and stare at nothing. Some of my brothers thought he'd gone quite mad. He wouldn't play with me anymore, he wouldn't play with anyone. And that was unusual, because that's all he ever wanted; to play with us." Kristoff remained quiet, but Heins no longer seemed focused on telling the story to anyone. His storytelling had evolved from a simple explanation into a personal monologue. "Finally, the doctor suggested the only thing she could think of, that my parents take him away from home for a while, to try and ease the stress of whatever burden of fear still had hold on him. I don't remember where they took him, but it was some kind of spring family vacation, just between Hans and my parents. Boy, were we brothers jealous of him."

"And then?" Kristoff sat, poker loosely held in hand, eyes fiercely locked on Heins.

"When he came home… things became like they always were. He was friendly; he was excitable; he was… alive again."

Kristoff waited, but Heins did not continue, though his far-away expression revealed he still held much to say. The harvester finally cleared his throat. "It's not that I'm not interested by the story or anything… but I don't get what that has to do with him not trying to save you. What's the point?"

"The point is-" emphasized Heins, removing the compress on his brother's jaw to refresh its coolness, "he was terrified, and unable to move . Anyone would have frozen for a moment before reacting, and if Hans hadn't been there, I don't know what might have happened to me today…"

"Okay, so he was scared, which meant he didn't jump right in to help you. Let's say I give you that one. He still tried to kill Anna and her sister. Am I just supposed to forget that ever happened?"

Heins looked down at his clenched hands, obviously taking time to think over his words before speaking. "Just because someone does something wrong, that doesn't make them inherently evil. People can make bad choices in life, especially if they're mad, or scared, or stressed at the time…"

Kristoff just blinked and stared at him.

"What?" Heins retorted as he noticed the ice harvester's expression.

"Nothing, it's just… that sounds familiar."

"Look…" Heins rose from sitting, gesturing to his brother as he spoke, but avoiding eye contact with Kristoff. "I'm not saying you should forgive him. I know what he did was unspeakable. I think we both know how slim the chances are he'll be forgiven at all for the things he's done. That isn't why we came here; it's not why we traveled all this way."

"Why, then?"

"… to give him the opportunity to say he's sorry," said Heins, finally making contact with the man's brown eyes.

"That's it?" Kristoff asked, stunned by the simplicity of the statement.

"That's it." Heins met the confused look of Kristoff and sighed, turning away again. "Saying sorry is more than just reconciliation for his deeds; it's something Hans needs. It's the feeling of facing consequence, a dedication to share the sadness he feels with the sadness of the person he's wronged. He knows apologizing can't undo what's already been done, but it can help both he and those he's affected move forward from the hurt. I just… want to help him heal."

"I don't know if I believe that's all he wants." Kristoff stared at Hans for a moment of unbroken silence. "The way I see it, he wanted to be king, and he was willing to kill whoever got in his way. I can't trust him."

"… how long have you known him?"

The question took Kristoff by surprise. He blinked, fumbling for an answer. "Well… I…" He had never really met Hans, not formally, only heard of him from Anna. That is, of course, apart from the few moments before the prince had been socked off the boat after the great thaw. The memory of his petite fiestypants throwing such a powerful punch made him smile, but it fell into a serious look as he answered with a mumble, "we've never really formally met."

Heins uttered a short chuff of disbelief, bending down beside Hans and checking to be sure the swelling on his jaw was going down. "Kristoff… I know my brother. I've known him since the day he was born. Don't question his sincerity. He only wants the opportunity to apologize to the Queen. It doesn't have to be alone; it doesn't have to be long. Just… give him that opportunity."

Kristoff crossed his arms, looking from Hans to his brother and back again. "Even if I wanted to help you out, and I'm not saying I do, I don't know what you expect me to be able to do for you. Elsa doesn't even have time to see Anna much lately unless it's official business, much less someone like him."

"Then start smaller," Heins said, getting to his feet. "If we can't meet with her formally, then maybe we can do it informally. We just have to figure out how to get the two of them together, and things will progress from there as nature intended them."

"I don't know why I'm even considering this. The guy tried to murder two people and he almost succeeded." Kristoff turned away and paced towards the front door of the cabin, hands behind his back. The periods of silence following were long and dark, filled with mental debate. Finally, he came to a stop before Heins. "Alright."

"Alright?" Heins asked, tilting his head.

"I'll help you the best I can." Heins brightened, but his smile slackened as Kristoff's expression remained stoic. "But it's not because I believe his intentions are good."

"Then… why?"

"It's because I feel sorry for him." Kristoff faced the older prince. "Anna… is an amazing person. She's funny, she's brave, and she loves her sister more than anything. She thought she was in love with your brother once… she trusted him. He could have had… things would have been different. He'll probably never be friends with her now. I never believed Anna really loved him. But… there was something. She cared about him. That friendship, and whatever might have been… it's gone now."

"Don't you think I know that?"

Both men turned to see a pair of green eyes watching them. His face flickered in shadows as the firelight played across the room, the sun setting in the distance. His thin lips were set in a slight decline, his face crumbling into despair. Hans sat up, slowly, ignoring the pain pounding in his jaw as he did. He set his gaze on the floor. "Did you ever stop to think… even for a second… that I might have cared for her, too?"

"You have a funny way of showing it," Kristoff responded darkly, eyes glued on Hans as if he were a wild animal.

Heins bent down to retrieve the cold compress he'd made for his brother's cheek, holding it out to him, only to have Hans knock the outstretched palm away. He put his hands on the cot's edge and stood to his feet, a little shakily because they were still asleep and tingling. He then faced Kristoff, his tone sharpening as dangerously as steel.

"Do you really think I don't regret what I've done? That I don't see myself in my head, saying those things to her… that I don't look back on my past every day and I don't wish things had been different?"

Kristoff's face slackened as he saw anguish flood the prince's eyes. For the briefest of moments, it was like looking into a reflection of himself. He saw in Hans the same suffering he'd felt when Anna had been transformed into ice. Had hurting her and Elsa really caused that much turmoil within Hans? Whatever pain the man was feeling, it only seemed to build as his face hardened, his voice gradually rising to a vehement shout.

"I'm sorry for hurting Anna. I'm sorry I ever came up with the idea of trying to be king in the first place. In fact, I'm sorry for ever being born, and for every moment after!"

Heins gasped loudly in horror, stomping over to Hans and giving him a sharp smack on the back of the head, making him recoil. "Don't you dare say something like that! You take it back right now!"

Hans thrust his hands out and shoved Heins backwards where he fell into a heap. "No! I'm not going to take it back!"

"Take it back!" Heins pushed off from the floor, grabbing Hans by the knees, and the two tumbled to the floor in a heap.

"Stop it, both of you! That's enough! Drop it!"" Kristoff reached down and pried the two away from each other, where they stood back, Hans brushing himself off as his brother pointed to him viciously.

"No! I won't drop it! I won't let you say such horrible things about yourself, Hans, do you hear me? You're a good man! I know you are!" Heins dropped his arms to his side and extended his hands towards his brother hopefully. "I know we can make this right, Hans… you can get through this. You aren't alone; you don't have to put yourself down, shut yourself away…"

Hans hugged his arms loosely and met his brother's gaze as he finished talking.

"I'm right here for you…all you have to do is let me in."

Hans finally sighed, loosely threading his fingers through his hair. "It isn't as simple as that, Heins… I know you're trying to help… but I've never had to do this before, with no idea of how to say what I need to say or even how to get to Elsa in the first place. If it were just an apology, that would be easy, but something like this… it's not the same. I keep getting into situations I haven't planned for. I've lost father's ship, and who knows what happened to Harry."

"Harry…" Heins softly remarked, biting his lip. "He had my boots…"

"Heins… we have nothing to use to our advantage, literally nothing. No money, no plans, no idea of how to progress. We only have each other… it's just me-" he pointed across the way, "and you… so tell me. What are we going to do?"

"First things first…" Kristoff interrupted, who had been witness to the whole exchange and was now looking at the royal brothers with mild awe. "We have to get you two down from the mountain."

#

"I can get you to the castle easy enough," Kristoff began, sitting with the two men at a table as the fire popped in the background, logs shifting slightly. "But your real problem is getting to Elsa. Anna is probably the only person who can get you close or figure out a way to her sister, and she's not likely to help you."

"… at least we have a start. Thanks… and…" Hans looked up at the mountain man, hand enclosed over a mug of coffee, watching it steam. "I'm sorry, about pretending to be harvesters. I hope we didn't cause any problems you couldn't solve."

"Nothing a little extra work won't fix," Kristoff shrugged both shoulders, "you can stay here tonight, but we should move you to the towns afterward. Ice harvesters have good intentions, but some of the guys can be… bad gossips. You get to love a good story being out here alone, and if anyone… royal finds out you're here before we're ready, we're going to be in big trouble."

"Will anyone else be coming here tonight?" Heins asked, looking at the front door and biting his lip.

"I wouldn't count on it. We're pretty high in elevation, and I've got a reputation as a loner type. No one should show up."

No sooner had he spoken than there was wild, excited shouting beyond the door, the chiming of a very familiar voice.

"Kristoff! Kristoff! Guess what? I have to tell you the big news!"

Kristoff lunged to his feet, but had only made it halfway across the room before the door swung open, revealing a strawberry blonde woman hunkering down, stomping her black boots on the floor before entering. "Phew! Do you have to live way up here? It's so cold out there I'm freezing my freckles off!" She clapped her pale blue mittens against her arms and swung the door shut behind her with a kick, her face bright with a smile for a few fragile seconds.

Hans' heart shut out all other noise with its pounding and he swallowed, the word coming out as a rasp.

"Anna?"

Her gaze centered on the two men in front of the fireplace, eyes widening, her lips parting and expression slackening in horror.

Her response came hissing out as a snake, seething between her teeth. "You."

A/N: Dat ending again! My heart went out the most to Hans when Kristoff says "I never believed Anna really loved him" … ouch…