A/N: Thanks for the reviews!
I still own nothing
Post Proelium - After Battle
Protocol be damned, the royal flagship was large and slow. Elsa had tried to convince Kai to take a smaller, faster ship, but he had insisted they take the royal vessel to make a royal visit; he also reminded her that there was no guarantee Hans would be there no matter when she arrived.
She settled into her spacious, slightly overly ornate quarters, flopped on the bed in a most unladylike way and laughed as the pillow she had launched came to rest on her face. Her emotions were in turmoil, laughter came as a release of some of her pent up nervousness, confusion, guilt, and sadness. It didn't last forever and she found herself staring up at the ceiling and the gently falling snow. She sat up, pulled a small chest onto the bed, opened it, and pulled out his fourth letter; at least the trip would give her ample time to catch up on her reading.
HRH Queen Elsa of Arendelle,
I lied slightly in a previous letter. My father did reinstate my naval rank, but he did not send me to hunt pirates. That was my idea (embarrassingly there was some whining and pouting involved in convincing him). He wanted to give me a fleet of ridiculously ostentatious galleons and to do exactly what I had been used for previously. I explained that I was not interested in being useless anymore. I needed to prove to myself I could be more than just a horrible mistake.
The fleet admiral gave me the fastest ships in the fleet and an incredibly experienced lieutenant. My crew, lieutenant included, expected an obnoxiously spoiled brat who would turn tail at the first sign of combat. I have been able to beautifully counter their expectations.
I spent the first several months learning to do every task on the ship (those of the surgeon being the exception); I traded this experience for lessons in swordsmanship. I insist that my flagship take lead regarding any hostile encounters, a fact my father detests. He worries my goal is to get myself killed. Some days I wonder if he isn't right.
Your Eternal Servant,
ADM Prince Hans Westerguard of the Southern Isles
Despite the age of the letter, the urgency inside Elsa grew. She had no idea what she was going to say, do, or even how she was going to react when she saw him, she just knew she had to see him.
Elsa awoke to Kai knocking softly at her cabin door. She reached up and pulled the paper from her face and realized she had fallen asleep reading his letters. She quickly gathered them up, shoved them in the chest, and kicked the chest beneath the bed, "Yes, Kai, come in."
He brought in her breakfast tray and placed it on the table, "it's not the fare served at the castle, but it's not too bad," he said with a smile. "Did you have a rough night, your majesty?" he asked with concern.
Elsa didn't understand what he meant until she looked in the mirror and realized she was still wearing the dress she had had on the day before, "Oh, yes, it takes a bit getting used to," she said sheepishly.
"When you are ready, perhaps you would enjoy stepping out on deck and getting some fresh air, your highness."
"That sounds lovely, I'll be out as soon as I've freshened up," Kai bowed and made his exit.
Elsa sat at the table and absent mindedly fed herself. Her eyes kept wandering to the small chest that poked out from beneath the bed. She had made a substantial dent in the letters the previous evening, but there was still more to go. With a sigh, she came to the conclusion there were more hours left in the journey than letters in the box and readied herself to meet Kai on deck.
"So this is his world," she said to herself as she stood on the weather deck looking out at the open sea. This wasn't her first sea voyage, but it was the first in which she took the time to appreciate it. She had been filled with fear the first few times she had boarded a ship; the amount of self-control it took not to freeze the ship in place had been exhausting, but now the sea spray tickled her nose causing her to giggle and took her mind far away.
"The captain says we're making excellent time and should reach the Southern Isles in a few days, your majesty," Kai informed her as he came to stand next to her.
"Have you ever been to the Southern Isles?"
"Yes, your highness. It's a very lovely kingdom; your parents would vacation there often."
"Thank you for accompanying me, Kai. Your presence is the only thing reminding me that this is real."
"It's my pleasure, your majesty. It's a lot to take in; finding out everything you thought you knew about someone is wrong. Gerda had the advantage of knowing me before I was the victim of that vile glass; you have only known Prince Hans as such. Until you started reading his letters that is," Kai gave Elsa a knowing smile.
Elsa smiled back but it didn't last long, "I hope I can associate his face with the Hans from his letters, not the monster I saw two years ago."
"I don't believe it will be as difficult as you fear, your highness."
HRH Queen Elsa of Arendelle,
Most sailors have tattoos. These tattoos are usually small and consist of initials, names, hearts, mermaids, anchors, and the like. If I had been smart I would have gone that route as well, but no, I'm Admiral Prince Hans Westerguard and if I do something I have to do it big. I had to sail half way around the world to visit the people who do it as part of their culture. I had to become incensed by the older sailors telling me that I was too soft to handle it. I had to prove them wrong. I had to be an idiot. Tattooing, if you are unfamiliar with the process, is extremely time consuming and painful. I lay on a mat on the floor stripped to the waist surrounded by three other men (some of my men stood nearby for what they claimed was moral support; they most likely just wanted to see if I would give up). The process is simple enough, one assistant stretches the skin, another wipes away the blood and excess ink, the master takes a comb carved from boar's teeth lashed to a piece of wood, dips it in the ink and uses another stick to tap it into the skin; the bicep and forearm were painful, but the triceps was excruciating. The work would last from morning until dusk (there were a few days I had to stop early due to the pain). The artwork is beautiful; which if it hadn't been after weeks of painful stabbing and a year of healing I would have been rather upset. Its design is of three passant lions encircled by the sun, there are rows of arrowheads and waves, it's impossible to fully describe it. It extends from the top of my shoulder to a few inches above my wrist (the last thing I need is for it to peak out from under my uniform during a formal occasion).
Why am I bringing this up now? I am docked in Arendelle, and other than the tattoo I do not believe my appearance has altered since I was first here. My memory of this place is entirely wrong. I refuse to disembark so I have no way of knowing just how wrong it is; I will never soil your lands with my footsteps again. I realize now that I have no idea what you look like; I know the memory I have of you is distorted, grotesque and horribly inaccurate, like my memory of most things.
It took some getting used to after the glass was removed, looking in the mirror. I would see a face that I didn't recognize as mine (this led to many startled screams and feeling very stupid until I grew accustomed to it).
Your Eternal Servant,
ADM Prince Hans Westerguard of the Southern Isles
Elsa had never thought about the possibility of him being in her harbor. If she had bothered to read the letters when he actually sent them, she could have cleared things up while he was there just a few months ago. She reminded herself that he neither expected her to read them, nor to ever see her again.
HRH Queen Elsa of Arendelle,
Oh, post proelium port calls how I hate thee. Most of the men are at the tavern enjoying themselves, whilst I sit in my cabin nursing what will most likely become a black eye. We defeated a pirate fleet outside of Wilmhaven and were able to return the ships, cargo, and pirates with minimal casualties. Did I receive my injury during a glorious battle against these terrible miscreants? Of course not. I joined the men at the tavern when we first docked. It was fun at first, then one of my men let the fact that I am a prince slip (I find it best to keep that part hidden). Predictably I was bombarded by local men practically throwing their daughters (who were, thankfully, not present) at me, barmaids shamelessly flirting, and dozens of drunken critiques of royalty. As this occasionally happens in port, I did my best to gracefully decline all advances, ignore the snide remarks, and make for the exit. As I did this, one large, particularly inebriated fellow grabbed me by the shoulder slurred something about hating the aristocracy and punched me in the eye. I fell back onto a table, turning it over, and lay there stunned for a moment. He stood over me and laughed. Having had a few drinks in me at this point, I made a very stupid decision. I jumped to my feet and punched him square in the jaw. Despite my idiocy, fortune smiled upon me and he hit the floor unconscious. The tavern erupted in cheers and laughter, and I seized the moment to escape in the chaos.
Then men are always full of vigor after a successful battle and like to add alcohol to that. I'm very careful as to how much I consume as I have made enough mistakes for my five and twenty years without adding alcohol. They also commonly enjoy the company of local women; something else I refrain from. I spent sixteen years under the influence of that bloody mirror so I lack some of the, shall we say, experiences of other men my age. Thank heavens, this will be destroyed, that fact alone would be fuel for the men to torment me until my death.
I find that I no longer have any idea how to act around women; a trait that tries and befuddles my father, and my mother finds endearing and amusing. I was at home for a time while my ships were undergoing some routine maintenance, and my parents took it upon themselves to invite a duchess from a neighboring kingdom for a tour of the isles. I, of course, was volunteered to captain the tour vessel. I was giving the duchess and her friend a tour of the ship when I thought I heard one of them whisper something about my backside. I turned my head at the comment, walked straight into the foremast, stumbled backwards and fell down the hatch to the middle gun deck. I lay there arms and legs akimbo trying to figure out what happened when I heard my mother laughing. I looked up to find all four of my companions looking down at me (my mother almost in tears from laughter, my father had his head lowered into his hand, and the two other women stood in shock); I smiled sheepishly and tried to right myself, knocking over several barrels in the process.
As the last unwed prince they try to introduce to me as many women as possible when I'm there, consequently I try not to give them any warning of my arrival to prevent giving them time to invite many during my stay. I know they mean well, and maybe I've read too many romantic novels, but I desire to marry for love, and I know these women are only interested in my title. Many of the older sailors consider themselves married to the sea. I would prefer my marriage to be to a woman of flesh and bone.
I hear the staggering steps of the men returning. I will put out the light and retire myself.
Your Eternal Servant,
ADM Prince Hans Westerguard of the Southern Isles
Elsa laughed so hard she chortled. If she had any doubt that these letters were never meant to be read it was completely dissolved. She could also empathize with his predicament regarding suitors looking for a title, though she found an irony in his concern in the light of his previous actions.
She didn't know why she waited to read the last letter until she could see Baltia, the capital city of the Southern Isles, appear on the horizon, but she did.
HRH Queen Elsa of Arendelle,
I write this from my room in the castle of Baltia where I will unfortunately be stuck for what may be several months. We were attacked in the night soon after leaving home. Thankfully our night watch gave us some time to prepare, but we were boarded nonetheless. We fought them off, and as the sun started to rise had enough light to make use of the guns, but so did they. When the battle turned in our favor the pirates quickly retreated. There were too many injuries and my ship too badly damaged to chase after them, so we returned to port.
I am forbidden to leave Baltia until my arm and shoulder completely heal (the sword hit my left side, so it did not ruin my tattoo). My parents are obviously taking this opportunity to invite as many eligible ladies as they can find. I find myself growing increasingly bored and running out of excuses to avoid these large gatherings. Over the years I have read nearly the entire library, and most of the books I haven't read I've avoided for a reason (I have no interest in the mating habits of various avian species). On duty I have plenty of things to occupy my mind, but here I am often left with nothing to distract myself from my past.
Klaus' wife Gemma is as kind as he is, but, unlike my brother, is practical in daily matters and is able to discipline my niece and nephew. I believe part of her practicality stems from her being a governess prior to their marriage (the governess of my brother Naatan's son Gerhart). Brigitta and Jens are wonderful. I try to bring them home gifts from my ventures, but this time I can barely play with them.
It appears it is time to change the bandages.
Your Eternal Servant,
ADM Prince Hans Westerguard of the Southern Isles
Her heart began to race; the letter was dated only two weeks prior. She knew he would be there, but still had no idea what to do with herself when she saw him. She only knew she had to talk to him, to tell him he was forgiven.