A gloved hand slid a finger over a map as its owner focused on battle strategies. Bright green eyes fixed intently on the future war at hand.
"I beg your pardon, your Majesty, I have urgent news!"
The man turned, a small smirk on his lips; it was almost sinister looking as the candle light caught his brilliant red side burns, painting them in the likeness of fire.
"Arendelle has declaired war?" the king presumed, or more accurately, already knew.
"Yes sire, how did-"
"In the event that the king is assasinated, the country goes to war." He spoke with little reguard for the rude manner in which he had cut the messager off. The smaller man's brow rose in confusion. "The King of Arendelle was assasinated?"
Another grin shot across the king's face, followed by a light tone, as he almost chuckled his next words. "Why yes, by my very hand in fact!" He spoke as if he were proud of his treaturous actions, as if they were his crowning achivement.
"But Hans! Er- your Majesty! He was a family friend! Arendelle is a valued trade partner!"
"Arendelle is WEAK." Hans' tone was no longer a light one, it was more a sneer as he spoke. It caused the messager to shrink back on himself in fear and surprise. "Their notion of ruling with love may work for their moronic citizens, but love does not command respect." His eyes narrowed. "Fear commands respect."
"But, your Grace, if it works for their people then what is the issue?" The small dark haired man's voice was timid as he spoke, general confusion clouded the man's ability to hold his tongue. The lesser man's words prompted a dark chuckle from his King.
"You are so naive." He almost found it amusing. "To be a ruler my friend, you do not only need to claim respect from your followers, but from other kingdoms as well. When people think of the Southern Isles they think of the strongest navy this side of the world, they think a King who commands over a hundred thousand soldiers." A hand darted out and violently grabbed the dark haired man by the collar of his shirt. " They think fear."
With the man quivering in his grasp Hans grinned evily. He released the messanger, watching him stumble a step or two before he turned his back to him. "When people think Arendelle they think of pretty colors, a magical land of wonder and delight, like a meadow in spring. With a ruler who is oh so kind and sweet, a woman of beauty and love." Hans' tone was one of a mock-excitment, hand gesturing as if he were sprinkling fairy dust over the world. Then, as if a switch had flipped, his tone grew dark once more. "No one fears Arendelle. Even with that Queen of theirs having her show magic."
There was a dark silence in the room, as if the true depth of Hans' ambition reached out and strangled any chance for contentment in the messager man.
"Tell all of my generals I want to meet with them. I plan to take Arendelle down with as little effort as possible. It won't call for much; their poor excuse for a navy wouldn't do more than dent the weakest fleet in my arsenal." He spoke with his hands clasped behind his back, gaze once more fixed upon the map in a wicked grin.
"The kingdom of Arendelle will be mine."