By the way, I occasionally go back and edit chapters here and there, usually small things like grammar/spelling errors. If its anything major, I'll let you know in the notes.

CHAPTER 2

Elsa was silent as the two of them traversed across the fjord and to the dark, pointed towers of the castle which loomed in the distance. Her eyes were glazed, empty. She walked, slow and deliberate, as if he was escorting her to her execution. Occasionally, he could feel her eyes on him but when he looked her way, she cast her gaze back to the castle.

"I want to see the body," she spoke, without looking at him.

His eyes flickered to her face, which was hardened into an stoic, indecipherable expression. But, when she finally met his eyes, he caught a glint of suspicion.

"When we get there, your majesty."

"Before you kill me."

He paused, suddenly nervous. "I wouldn't—"

"Don't lie, Prince Hans," she said, coolly, "I heard you draw your sword."

He halted. For a long moment, he was silent. The flaps of his gray cloak billowed softly in a gust of zephyr.

"It's alright," she said, softly, "I understand. Someone like me…should've never been born. If it weren't for me, it would still be summer and Anna…" a sudden spasm of emotion came across her face before it disappeared, replaced by a gaze of numb despair. "Why did you change your mind? Do you still intend to kill me, Prince Hans?"

He turned around slowly. He narrowed his eyes, regarding her carefully. She was an absolute mess. Tears streamed down her face, her lips were twisted into a shuddering frown. She wrapped her arms, clothed in icy gossamer, around herself.

Yet, he marveled at her. Beautiful, frail, and pathetic. Like a trampled flower. All this weeping…for what? A sister she barely even knew? In Anna's words, Elsa had shut her out. She hadn't even told her about her powers. Hans didn't get it. All he felt for his own brothers was hatred.

He chose his words carefully and deliberately. "I drew my sword because I was afraid. Afraid what would happen if I allowed you to live," desperation leaked into his voice, which surprised him, he wasn't sure if that was genuine or not. "I—I couldn't do it because–," He closed his eyes, no, he couldn't say that, "-of Anna. I know this isn't what she would have wanted. She loved you, Elsa."

Elsa looked pained, gazing at him with watery eyes. Tears fell again and again and he realized she hadn't ever stopped crying.

He bowed his head, "Forgive me, for allowing you to be locked up in that cell like a common criminal." He placed his hand on his heart and looked at her with steely determination. "I swear on my life I won't allow anyone to harm you. All I ask in return is that you allow me to help you gain better control of your powers."

She stared in disbelief. "Is that…is that what you really want?"

He nodded. "For Anna…and Arendale." Mostly Arendale.

For a moment, her face softened then she sighed, clearly irritated. "It's not possible."

"Have you ever tried?"

"Of course I have!" she hissed.

He cocked his head. "But you gave up?"

"No! I—"

"Pardon my insolence, but your first mistake was giving up. Let's discuss this back in the castle when I'm not on the verge of hypothermia." he said, coolly. He was tired and wanted to preserve whatever little energy he had left to plead on Elsa's behalf when they reached the castle. He wasn't sure he had enough patience left to deal with that nightmare Duke.

She stared, incredulous. As Queen, she probably wasn't used to someone, especially a foreign prince, telling her what to do. Hans felt giddy. At the same time, he admonished himself for revealing a part of himself so carefully hidden away.

Elsa held her head high. The tears on her face turned to little droplets of ice. "Perhaps I've misjudged you, Prince Hans. You seem very different from the silly, foolish prince my sister was so entranced with. But, do not think you can so easily boss me around," there was a uncertainty in her eyes when she added, "if I wanted, I could—"

"Freeze me? Impale me with icicles? Conjure a beast made of snow to crush me? Yes, I'm aware of all your techniques," he said, unable to hide a playful smirk. He was surprised to find he no longer resented her for any of it now, which was a relief since he intended for her to be his wife. He gave her a radiant, charming smile, "I'm happy to see the Queen is back."

She narrowed her eyes. That was a good sign, it meant she was distracted from feeling anxiety or fear, which may have been what spun this winter in the first place.

"May I remind you that this isn't the time to be making jokes. My sister is–" she paused, "I want to take time to properly mourn her."

"Mourn? How so? Perhaps dressing in all black and looking as solemn as you can?" He laughed, but it sounded bitter and miserable. He caught her wary glare and coughed awkwardly. He really needed some sleep.

"What I meant was, Anna was a bundle of joy, she would have wanted her funeral to look exactly the way your coronation did. Of course, considering Arendale tradition, that wouldn't be possible without looking callous—"

But Anna was a complete and utter airhead after all , he thought.

"—but think of it this way, Queen Elsa: She's in heaven now, singing with Christ and His angels." He resisted the urge to add a touch of sarcasm to his tone at the last part. But he truly believed it. Anna was as naive and innocent as a child, perfect for the kingdom of God. People like him, especially his brothers, were destined for Hell, which is why Hans made sure he lived life to the fullest, he already knew where he was going.

She grew silent at that and together, they continued the trek across the ice. "Prince Hans," she said, softly. A small gust of wind passed by him, blowing up strands of his auburn hair. It made him shiver. No one, not even his mother spoke to him this way.

"Yes, your highness?" he said, with a little more eagerness than he intended.

"When we arrive at the castle, I want to see her body."'

"Of course." Hadn't they already discussed this? Did she doubt him? Whatever, it made no difference to him. He had ordered the body to be watched over, and due to the curse, it seemed to be in no danger of decomposing.

The ice beneath them gave way to snow-covered grass and then cobblestone. When they finally reached the castle gates, Hans felt his anxieties double. He hoped Elsa wouldn't do something foolish like–

"This is Queen Elsa of Arendale, open the gates immediately!" she yelled to the guards perched on the battlements, above the gate entry. Immediately, the guards aimed their crossbows at her. She glared furiously and raised her hands.

"Your majesty, don't!" Hans hissed.

"I don't intend to hurt them!" she hissed back.

"Then put your hands down!"

Elsa obeyed, reluctantly. Hans sighed in relief. He took a step forward, staring at the fearful guards.

He spoke, low and commanding, "This is Prince Hans of the Southern Isles, please, put your weapons down and open the gates so we may pass through! The Queen means no harm! I repeat, she means no harm!"

There was a long, agonizing moment of silence before the crossbows were lowered. A few minutes later, the gates opened with a loud, creaking moan. Elsa and Hans made their way through, Elsa's head held high and eyeing every guard who dared look her way. How strange it must be, for a kingdom's own queen to be seen as an enemy of the people.

"Why do they listen to you?" Elsa said, suspiciously.

But not their own Queen? Hans thought, with a devious thrill.

"Anna entrusted me with taking care of Arendale while she was gone. They see me as their leader." And I wear that title so well, don't you think? A smile drifted to his lips.

Hans caught the guilt that passed through her eyes, before she became guarded and unreadable again. As they made their way through the castle, Hans picked up the pace with Elsa following quickly behind. He didn't want to run into any obstacles that may cause Elsa's powers to spiral out of control, namely the Duke. It wouldn't be long before everyone would be notified of his and Elsa's arrival. She was panting a little behind him and he stopped to offer her his arm but, as expected, she refused.

Fortunately, he managed to remember the passageway to the room Anna was being kept in. He had developed the habit of memorizing long, winding castle passages when he was a child.

The guard he had appointed to watch over Anna's body stood by the door. When the guard caught sight of Elsa, he was startled.

"I've come to see my sister," Elsa snapped, "Open the door."

The guard looked in hesitation at Hans, who nodded in approval. Elsa rushed in and Hans quickly followed, shuddering upon entry. The room was freezing. Poor Greta sat beside the couch where Anna lay, holding her shawl close to her shivering body.

Elsa was beside Anna's side in an instant, holding her in her arms. Anna's body was now frozen solid, little more than an ice statue. The couch and the surrounding furniture had developed a layer of frost that seemed to be spreading. Hans realized with a slow horror that, if Anna's body was kept here any longer, it would have frozen the entire castle.

The hot tears which dripped down Elsa's face turned to ice and fell like icicles onto the floor, shattering softly. She held Anna close, fingers stroking her cheek. "Anna," she whispered, "It's your big sister, Elsa. I'm here."

Greta let out a harpy cry and blew her nose into her handkerchief. She continued to weep and babble on meaninglessly until Hans kindly escorted her out the door, locking it the moment she had passed through.

"I–I'm so sorry," Elsa sobbed, "When you came to knock, I always wanted to open the door, I always wanted to build a snowman with you. But I was afraid. I didn't want to hurt you. All I ever do is hurt you."

Hans was mesmerized. A Shakespearian tragedy was unfolding before him: a beautiful, teary-eyed woman clutching her sister's corpse, lamenting the moments they could never share together.

That quickly faded when fatigue kicked in. He resisted the urge to plop down on a nearby, cozy-looking chair and rest. The trek to and back the fjord had been exhausting, combined with the past three days of sleepless nights. But this…this was even more exhausting to witness.

She's dead, Elsa. Let it go. Bring back summer, he thought, feeling a sort of coldness creep into his heart.

Something buried deep within Hans recoiled at his own callousness. It was times like these where he felt so…heartless. He should care, shouldn't he? Perhaps shed a tear or two himself. Even the Duke, dastardly devil he was, could conjure some semblance of human sympathy. But Hans? Hans couldn't feel anything, he could only mirror.

You're a heartless monster, a voice said to him.

But it wasn't his own. It belonged to one of his brothers. It had been spoken to him in the aftermath of his father's funeral. All his brothers had cried that day. Hans, a stupid and reckless child then, had pretended to cry while holding two fingers behind his back, not realizing one of his brothers had seen it.

You're right, Hans had replied then, Because you all made me this way.

Hans rubbed at his jaw. The punch his brother gave him afterwards seemed to remerge from his memories and into reality.

He watched as Elsa buried her head in Anna's neck. The room began to plunge in temperature. Ice seemed to spread across Elsa's skin and across the floor and up the walls of the room. Hans nearly slipped as the floor turned to ice beneath him. He nearly fell backward before he clutched onto a nearby chair, which simply slid away from him. He fell forward, hands sprawled across the ice, bottom up in the air, looking very much and feeling very much like a fool. Usually, he would be grateful that no one saw him like this but he was far more concerned with Elsa spiraling out of control…again.

"Queen Elsa!"

She could not hear him. She had encased herself in ice.

Did she…intend to freeze herself along with her sister? Was this her plan all along?

He panicked. "Elsa!" Formalities be damned. He got down on his knees and crawled towards her, every moment was excruciating. The cold only increased in temperature and it got worse the closer he got.

He saw the frost travel to his gloves and up his sleeves. He winced in pain, it was cold…so painfully cold. If he valued his own life, he should flee. Leave this castle, this forsaken kingdom, and return to the Southern Isles. Instead, he crawled closer and closer, letting out small groans of pain as frostbite set in.

Oh, right. He didn't value his life at all. Or, rather, a life in the Southern Isles, forever a disgrace. He would rather die here.

"Elsa!" his voice sounded hoarse, worn. He didn't even recognize it. This…this was much worse than the blizzard on the fjord. This was hell if hell was a frozen inferno.

Finally, he reached her. He couldn't even feel his lower body. Elsa was encased in a Fabergé-like egg of ice, but he knew, unlike Anna, the cold didn't bother her. She was still alive. He hoped he could hear her.

"Elsa! Remember what I told you? Don't be the monster they fear you are!" The ice consumed his torso and slithered up his neck like a snake. He was cold, so cold, the ice was searing his skin like frozen fire. He didn't have the strength to scream. His eyelids began to grow heavy.

Is this what you felt, Anna? He thought, with a strange smile. If her spirit was watching him now, he was certain she would be laughing at him. They were, after all, sharing a similar fate.

As life began to fade from him, Hans heard a single heartbeat.

It neither belonged to him nor Elsa.

The frost that clung to his clothing and body miraculously transformed into a swarm of white butterflies. They collectively gathered in the center of the room like a snowstorm, then flew up towards the ceiling and fell down softly like fresh snow, melting the moment they touched the floor. The cold left him completely and no trace of it remained on his skin, not even a single drop of moisture.

Hans felt oddly rejuvenated. Had he died and resurrected?

Hans heard a crack and looked to the source of the sound. A thin, pale arm stretched through the crevice of the egg and, with an unfurling of its hand, the ice was shattered. Hans watched in awe and horror as Elsa emerged, making her way to Anna. Anna was no longer encased in ice and some warmth had been restored to her complexion.

Elsa smiled, brushing a white strand of hair away from Anna's face. "The ice has frozen her heart, but it hasn't killed her. She is still alive. I can still save her." Elsa looked at Hans, tears streaming down her face and warmth in her eyes, "I'll need your help, of course."

He ran a hand through his tousled hair. "You nearly killed me," Hans said, breathlessly.

Elsa looked away, ashamed. "I know. I'm sorry for that. You're not still hurt are you?"

A sudden fatigue took hold of Hans. He staggered to his feet and collapsed into a nearby cushy velvet armrest. He tossed his head back, closing his eyes shut, breathing heavily. It took all his strength to hold back the flames of his indignant fury, threatening to burn all his hard effort in getting Elsa to trust him.

"Tomorrow."

"What?"

"Tomorrow we'll start, 9 AM, library. See you then."

Just like that, his head drooped to his chest and he slept.

As Jennifer Lee said, "Hans is a tragic figure because he's a consequence of being raised without love."