When Agnes heard the snow stop, at first, she thought she was dreaming. She'd since been told to help clean the bowls and utensils that the servants had used to eat their meals, and as shameful as it was, the woman thought as she collected the last of the solid, wooden containers that were left behind as her peers left to do their own tasks, it was a little better than being hack there.

Staring at the cold, still body of the once lively princess they'd all come to love and adore, appearing more dead than alive.

Shaking her head at the thought, she refused to finish it, choosing instead to focus as best she could on taking them to the washing area, setting them gently upon the counter as another young man, a maid just like her, cleaned them, each nodding to the other before she turned to other tasks. It didn't do to think such morbid things, she was quick to remind herself in a scolding huff.

She could hear Ingrid now.

She was strong enough to endure, Princess Anna wouldn't give up so easily, she knew it so.

But she felt her mind be torn from this train of thought at the sudden silence as, up until that point, there'd been a persistent hum of wind howling beyond the protection of the palace's halls, the beating of ice and snow upon the windows that kept the storm outside, but now? Agnes was only just gathering rags to cleanse the table when she stopped...and listened.

And the noise had just...stopped.

Slowly, but surely, it...stopped.

Standing from her leaning position over the table, there was a shout, and at once, she knew it was true.

"The sky! Look!" Someone, she wasn't sure who, shouted, but at their words, she wasn't sure she cared who it was, snapping her head to one of the small windows within the kitchen to find just what they meant.

Her eyes widened.

The blue sky was poking through.

"It's...over?"She whispered, unable to fathom it, the rush of excitement and relief that filled her every muscle, every fiber of her being. Dropping the rag that she'd been cleaning with, she and the other maids and servants all but rushed to the main floor of the castle, eager to join them in what they could feel was growing warmth. She smiled, burning with elation.

She knew it. She knew that Prince Hans could do it, she just knew that he could.

Rushing into the main hall, there were nobles everywhere, and guards, and...just about everyone. It wasn't long before she was lost to the sea of people that scrambled to get a glance of who she could see coming from the furthest, Western portions of the castle, locked in arm with strong, hardened woman who parted the crowd with a wave and a shout. Around her, she could hear the servant whispered excitedly amongst themselves.

"Is that the Prince?!"

"Look! He's alive! I told you, Helen! I told you he'd make it!"

"He's stopped the winter!"

Each of their voices were hushed, but she could still make it out over the chatter around them. There was a certain buzz that fell over the room that electrified the once dour space, Agnes herself almost forgetting that the princess above still laid in silent rest. This was just too momentous of an occasion to mark with such a tragedy. However, as the seconds, the moments, wore on, it was clear that something was wrong, terribly wrong as, with the prince coming swiftly into view, and though she thought for certain that she should be smiling, the warm, auburn head of Hans a marker of his approach, though it was just as noticeable that the nobles about the start of the crowd began to grow in timbre.

She frowned.

Something was clearly wrong.

"Can't you see he needs attention?! Get him to a room! NOW!" She heard that same woman all but scream, and at the nobles, too, no less. Parting them with swift movements that even she had to stand and avoid to watch for the shifting crowd around her.

'Needs attention? What's wrong? What happened?' She pondered in growing panic, pushing up against some of the other nursemaid and servants backs to try and get a look, but it proved to be too difficult as, with the woman's words, many of them jumped at attention, forcing their ways through with force and intent.

And she followed suit.

She had to help if she could. That witch had done something, hadn't she? She...she'd hurt Hans.

The thought made her heart twist painfully in her chest.

Not him, too.

Rushing to the front of the crowd, she felt herself growing closer, but not before many others took him in arm, pulling him along as he was received by nursemaids, carefully guiding him up the main stairs as the nobles behind them clambered on, watching his face with great interest and even shock at what they saw.

'What are they looking at? What happened - ' Finally, she could catch him, walking quickly in step with the servants at his sides, and she saw it.

The frosted, pale mess of cracked ice and raw flesh that had become his left eye.

She felt the blood leave her face at the sight of it.

What...did she do? What did Elsa do to him? Can she go a single day's time without bringing harm against others with her horrible, cursed magic? Gritting her teeth and staving her rage, she followed them up the stairs, more than eager to help as she could as she knew where they were taking him.

To his chambers.

Already, she could see Ingrid coming from another hallway, her eyes just as taken with shock as hers probably were.

"Quickly, take him to his chambers. You two, go to the pantry and grab more bandages and cleansing salve, Sigrid, you go prepare his bath, and Agnes, you come with me. We must begin tending to him at once. This way, Prince Hans. Carefully, now." She commanded to the rest of them before taking the prince in arm and guiding him back to his quarters.

Agnes wasn't far behind them.

-(Same time, elsewhere)-

He was hoping he could have left the fight unscathed, but he thought, more, that it was worth the trouble. He'd known in the moments that she'd struck him that many times before it had been worse, and that perhaps it wasn't right to complain that he'd gotten off rather scot-free, all things considered.

Other times it had been his stomach, piercing ice tearing into skin, bone, and flesh with crude teeth that left dead upon the ice, or maybe in some instances that he could remember, his mind flickering to memory and clinging coldly to it as he was ushered through the halls, nothing less than eight nursemaids at his behest, the fullness of his face had taken the brunt of it. He could remember it: the bright, almost beautiful fingers of lacing ice sealing his eyes, nose, and mouth shut as what would have surely been a screamed died sorely in his throat.

He'd been choking from the icicles in his throat, after all.

Many causes, too many to name, and if this, a scar for certain, yes, but a living mark all the same, was all he managed to receive as a parting gift, than it was in his best interest to count his blessings.

Even if he was a bit bitter that he couldn't have saved his face in the process. He'd always thought marked, scarred faces were garish...beneath him, certainly.

Princes, no, kings...didn't do well to have the appearances of common folk.

No use complaining about it now, he thought solemnly, being pulled into a room with firm but gentle hands as he was sat upon his bed.

Best to let this ilk take care of it, though he withheld his growing bitterness at what he felt was a lack of haste, noting their scrambling with an edge of irritation that he almost forgot to conceal, certain the mark would worsen if they didn't begin their work. He couldn't afford for their lack of competence to worsen what should have never been, after all.

"You -", Ingrid started, pointing to another of the maids, a homely young woman with stern features who'd perked at attention at her superior's words, " - start a bath! He would surely like to be warmed following his ordeal. Go, now!" The woman spat, sending her on her way.

"Yes, ma'am!" And at once, she was off, a few of the others in the room beginning to gather items to tend to his wounds, which were few, he remembered, inwardly grinning at his skillful work in downing the queen, save for his more-than-likely ruined eye, regarding them in quiet thought as they scattered and paced around his chambers. As a young girl, that same one from before he'd met in the halls after what felt like many moons ago (though in reality, it had only been a few hours, he knew), cutting emerald eyes deeply into her own, he could smell it.

The concern, the desperation and eagerness to be useful.

The woman before him, now quickly and gently dabbing his eye with water and cleaning what he felt were jagged edges, unsightly, that he was sure, he could tell she was trying her best to save him discomfort, though quickly and steady with her efforts as the rag in her hands became warm and red with blood.

He pondered it.

Hans hadn't even realized he was bleeding.

"S-sorry, Prince Hans. I - I mean, we - want to make sure it's clean. I deeply apologize if this is hurting you at all."She whispered, remorseful.

He smiled.

"Oh, don't worry about me - " Pausing, he hissed through teeth, giving her cause to stop at once as the man feigned his pain. Of course, he knew he wouldn't feel anything; it didn't take him long, having been struck by ice and cold a thousand times, to understand what it did.

How it numbed it after a while, the aching that once exploded on his face, soon dulling, then falling to silence as the ice crept to a stop across the side of his face. Even at the time, he'd adjusted somewhat to the sensation her powers brought, violent blasts of frost erupting upon his eye with stunning presence before his mind turned back to her, recovering quickly. Now, when he forced himself to fake the hurt, the pain, he felt...nothing. The skin, the nerves...all of it was dead, after all.

He just liked stringing people along.

It made dealing with them just a bit more durable.

Especially when it was so easy to send them into a panic.

"What are you doing, stupid girl?! Can't you see that you're hurting him?!" Ingrid, the surly, old woman he'd made note of before falling upon the young woman as she yanked her hand away, rushing to assess what she'd thought she'd done.

"By the gods, I'm sorry! I don't - I don't know what I - " At the peak of her fear and apprehension, he controlled himself, smiling softly, comfortingly, regarding the two women as the room fell silent.

"It's fine. She...didn't mean it." He uttered gently, locking eyes with Agnes briefly before she looked away. Despite his words, she still seemed ashamed, and despite his reassurance, Ingrid still looked cross. Snatching the rag from her hands, the older woman shooed her from before him, taking her spot in kind.

"Go prepare his fresh clothes. I'm sure you can manage that, can't you? Here, let me, your highness." Ingrid muttered to Agnes harshly, sending her away.

Agnes nodded silently, hardly able to look at him as she rushed off to the dressers, grasping at his articles with renewed and desperate purpose, a sight that made him almost grin.

Oh, that could most certainly be useful. He liked the ones that were eager to please.

"Please excuse her, she's still in training. She didn't harm you too badly, did she?" Ingrid asked, doing much the same that Agnes had before, though it was clear through her skillful, yet gentle, movements that her experience was far more immense than that of the former's. Regarding the older woman, she had clearly worn her age, taut, greying hair wrapped and tucked in a harsh bun that pulled at the sides of her grim face, and bound, modest clothes, telling Hans just about everything that he needed to know about her in one glance.

She was most certainly a prude.

That could work, too.

"Ah, no, no! I'm, well, you know...it's a little sore. She didn't do any harm." He assured her, looking to Agnes for a bit, a mere, siding glance, before he heard Ingrid sigh. The former considered his words for a moment before halting in her dabbing, placing the now dirtied rag beside her in the bowl that had been at her side, holding a pale pink fluid, water that had been stained red with his blood.

It was murky.

"Nora. The setting paste and bandages, if you would." She called to a far younger nurse beside her, the young girl looking barely old enough to be out of her teens, but she was quick on her feet, nodding curtly and excitedly at the chance to help as she sourced each item promptly, bringing it to Ingrid in kind.

"Here you are, ma'am!" The young girl, or woman, Hans frankly couldn't tell, her dollish features beaming with enthusiasm, exclaimed, setting them at the head nursemaid's side before nodding and rushing off, casting quick, parting glances to the prince, face clear blooming a flushed pink at, presumably, the sight of him, almost giving him cause to roll his eyes.

That easy, was it? Women could hardly control themselves half the time, the man thought with an air of superiority that flattened his expression at the sight of the former. Nora by then had been excitedly whispering to a few of the other nurses as her earthy, brown eyes flickered once and again to Hans before they all scattered, and strangely in his mind, they all seemed to have the likeness of bugs.

Roaches, as it were.

The thought amused him.

"I'm sorry, your highness. It seems the girls are tickled at your presence; it isn't often that they get to be in the presence of someone as...esteemed as you, now..." Grabbing the setting paste, Hans didn't move as she slathered on a bit of it, smoothing it out with the end of the spatula she'd used to place on his wound, and the prince could have scoffed at her words.

Esteemed?

The thirteenth son of a whore king, the son of a weak queen, and the lowest of his twelve other brothers was'esteemed'to this people?

Ha, right,Hans thought bitterly, noting that she'd finished placing the thick substance upon his face when she then grasped at the bandages, pulling out a segment of them and starting the wrap it whilst she spoke.

"Mind my hand, Prince Hans. I will do my best to be gentle." She assured him, and with a nod and a carefully moderated smile, he responded.

"You know, you all don't have to be so...formal. And esteemed is a bit of a heavy word, isn't it? I'm hardly worth the honor." Hans answered back swiftly, with caring words that didn't even urge to convince himself, the lie in his mind clear and true with intent. People loved the modest ruler, the kind, humble sort, he learned very quickly in his youth. Just as he'd suspected it would, Ingrid was taken by his words, stopping short of wrapping the taut, soft gauze around his head with a look of shock that shook the usually firm, stern gaze of the other.

Hell, even he didn't think it were possible for her to look any other way but old and worn, but even he could be surprised, sometimes.

"'Hardly worth the honor'? Surely you cannot be serious! After everything you've done and - " looking to his eye, or rather, the place where his bandages were concealing the frosted, concave remains of it, she whispered, " - gave for a kingdom that isn't even your own..." She trailed off, looking off slightly whilst her words rang in Hans's head.

'A kingdom that isn't even your own...'

Oh, it will be...soon enough, you old bitch, he thought crudely in the back of his mind, whilst all the same preparing himself to answer with the pleasantries he thought he needed to.

No need to lose his cool over some worthless old woman's words, after all.

"Even if it isn't yet my own, there is nothing that I wouldn't do for Arendelle. This place, the people of this kingdom...I would do anything for them. Anything at all." He finished, smiling as she finished wrapping his bandages, and for the first time, she smiled.

"Oh, would you? Far more loyalty coming from the apparent betrothed of the princess than that of even the queen herself. Strange times, hm?" Said a voice he didn't recognize. Turning to meet it, at the door of his chambers, he was met by a massive man, coated in the finest furs and jewels as beside that unknown presence, Linnea stood idly by. at attention for her charge.

"My liege, how are you feeling?" She started, looking to the prince carefully with roaming eyes as his condition was considered with a great degree of care that was fairly clear on her pressed and worried features. He paid her heed, though his mind was taken very much by the presence of the other man, responding in kind to her first before he acknowledged the former's words.

"I feel just fine, Linnea. You worry too much for me. As for the queen..." Hans paused, envisioning again her body, her...cold blood, dripping from his hands as he ran through the dagger that had been in his hands only a short while ago.

The sense of her vitality fading.

The euphoria.

And sickeningly, he knew but didn't care, the rush of blood to his lower body a clear indication of the last piece of the vile puzzle he'd constructed arising in a single word that echoed in the dark places of his mind.

The arousal.

But no, certainly. The queen's 'loyalty' was of course to be called into question.

What kind of monarch would leave her people, after all?

"...I am terribly sorry that I could not convince her to stay. It was my own fault that she slipped away like she did. I'm...sorry." He feigned, waiting for the man to eat up his apparent remorse.

Well, at least, Linnea did.

"You'resorry?! There is nothing at all that you need to be apologetic for, your highness. It was that - thatwitchthat ought to bear the shame of her departure, not you." Exclaimed the woman with as much fervor as she could, and the man beside her, raising a fervent brow at her declaration and words, remained silent for a breath before turning back to Hans, unmoved by his words.

Then Hans doubled back on it.

He...didn't seem particularly impressed with his sentiments, eliciting a biting defensiveness that slithered in the recesses of his mind.

"Witch, hm? Easily said of my niece, witch she might be. Regardless, I would have to agree; that isn't your fault to hold. Blame of oneself isn't terribly productive at a time like this." The other man voiced, rooting deeper into Hans an easily placed resentment.

He didn't care for the lectures or 'life lessons' of others; he didn't need the advice of some random man to orchestrate his decisions.

No.

He didn't need the advice of anyone to direct his actions. He was too intelligent, too knowing, to need their meaningless words.

Despite his reservations at the other's words, he read deeper into his statement, regarding him with a careful eye as what he'd said dawned on him.

Wait...niece? Elsa was his niece? If that's the case, then...this must be Anna and Elsa's uncle, he thought quickly, suddenly feeling a rush of anger.

Anna had never told him that they had an uncle, not that that was entirely surprising as they'd known each for all of a day before he made his moves, and besides, he wasn't exactly the type to listen closely to what she said, what, with most of things she spouted from her mouth vapid, senseless, and irritating as it was.

But he was no fool.

Despite her being deeply,unbearablyirritating, he knew for certain that she never mentioned her...extended family. In her defense, he thought coldly as he forced a modest look upon his face, contorting his features with ingrained force even as a collection, a cavalcade of swirling emotions and present frustrations clouded his thoughts for a moment as his mind got to work with thinking about the implications of this man's presence, he'd...never exactly asked her, either.

Perhaps in the chaos and her absence, he never thought to. He never had thechanceto.

He hadn't accounted for them being here, but how could he have not done so?! It was almost too obvious that they would have visiting family for Elsa's coronation, how could he be this stupid? Inwardly chastising himself, the man looked back to the other lord, nodding slowly despite the turmoil roiling within.

"Ah, no, you're right. It's best we...focus on the now. I'm Hans of the Southern Isles. I don't believe we've met." He started again, standing up with the help of the nursemaid, Ingrid, as for a moment, he'd forgotten that she was beside him, and walking over to the man, they briefly shook hands, though the former didn't acknowledge his introduction.

"I've no need for introductions; hard to miss the young man that managed to sweep Anna off her feet and become engaged in just a day's time of knowing her. Efficient, are we?" He questioned, releasing Hans's hand in one swift motion as the prince tried to think of what he was implying or even how to respond to that. However, before he could, Linnea was quick to urge the nursemaids and staff from the room, and they followed the command without question, with each of them leaving at once before only the three of them remained in the room, and the door was shut behind them, thereafter.

Hans swallowed quietly.

It wasn't a secret to himself that he'd seen an opportunity in the girl, in Anna, and it also wasn't unknown to him that he could say just about anything to convince her to wed him, though even he didn't see it working as...quickly as it had. Now, whether he'd done it too quickly wasn't a question he really considered as...it wasn't something he thought to think about.

Surely it wasn't that uncommon for people to get married soon after meeting, but did this man suspect that he...manipulated her? Hans blanched at the thought; he'd gone through the trouble of spending time with her, entertaining her nonsense, and hell, he even sang thatinfernalsong with her, wasn't that enough? Sighing, he collected himself, staving the honest panic that threatened to unravel him.

There was no reason that such, frankly, baser questions would undo the immutable work that he'd put forth to reach even this far, and to think that everything would simply fall into place to set the crown of Arendelle upon his head would have been a foolish, idealistic, and utterly stupid thing to wish for and expect.

And Hans was certainly none of those.

Foolish? Never.

Idealistic? That was for the weak and feeble minded.

Andstupid? He was anything but.

He was thinker, a planner, and if some hair-brained brute couldn't best him, this pig surely wouldn't.

"Well, if anything, it was she that swept me off of my feet. It was a spur of the moment decision, yes, but I assure you; everything and anything that I do is for Anna and Arendelle. That, you have my word on. I just didn't know that word spread so, how should I say...quickly, but yes; we are betrothed, at least...we were meant to be. But with her curse, and what happened..." ringing his hands with mock concern, he continued, "...I fear that we won't be able to. But I have faith that she'll pull through. I can't lose her..." He whispered, earning, for the first time, a softened look from the older man.

"I do not wish to, either. And frankly, I don't question much the nature of yours and her betrothal. I have heard too many good things from all that have met and been in your stead to make issues with your intent, but after having someone that, apparently, she trusted...to have some lowborn, ignorant wretch do something so vile, so deplorable...you can understand why I might be a bit on edge, yes? Especially with the queen's selfish disregard for her kin, for her kingdom...this is a turbulent time right now. These questions, these inquiries...they aren't personal, understand me well." He explained, walking past the young prince and to the window of his chamber, looking out to fjord sullenly as Linnea and Hans followed suit in silence.

Oh, yes. He understood perfectly well his supposed grief, considering the situation at hand. It was clear that he could almost certainly use this to his advantage, stepping tentatively behind the older man as he opened his mouth to speak.

"No, I understand. As the speaking authority of Arendelle in the princess's and queen's absence, I will do my best lead the people of this kingdom and - " Before he could even finish, the man cut in.

"Lead? What are you on about?" He asked suddenly, parting the younger man's words as he faced Hans once more, turning from the window with a single, swift movement. At the question, Hans smiled thoughtfully, though the inquiry itself was reason enough for his quiet mind to race again at the question.

"Ah, well, I mean...since the princess is unwell, I thought...I would take up the mantle of caring for the people, for Arendelle's affairs, and - " Again, he was cut off, and Hans repressed it, the blistering heat that collected in his shoulders at what he felt was clear, complete, and total disrespect.

People didn't cuthimoff. They didn't...interrupthimwhen he was speaking.

That wasn't what they did. No one got to do that, not a single person had that right. Who the fuck did he think he was?

But he had to exercise his self control as it was becoming clearer and clearer with each word that they exchanged, this washed up pig wasn't just their uncle, no...he was an obstacle.

And Hans didn't care much for those.

Considering the fjord again, the man held up his hand, cutting off Hans as he stewed in his thoughts in the prince's stead with a chuckle.

" I like that, you're...enthusiastic. I can say that much...but I think you're misunderstanding the situation." He started, smiling almost paternally, in the same way a father would a misguided youth.

It was positively patronizing.

"Misunderstanding the situation? With all due respect, my lord, Prince Hans has been nothing but supportive and forthcoming from the moment that he set foot upon Arendelle's fair lands. Surely that means something in the context of the situation at hand?" Linnea interjected, Hans's eyes snapping to her as he'd almost forgotten entirely that she was here at all, but for the first time, he actually found himself agreeing with what she'd said, thought he bore more tact than her not to say that out loud.

Defending himself in such bold, and dare he say, entitled way didn't bode well for the sake of his argument, but...coming from someone else, a lowborn that could state his case for him was always good when earning the trust of others.

Now it was just a question of whether that alone would be enough.

"Of course it does. Undoubtedly so. I am not the sort to diminish the contributions of another due to mere semantics. Never that. But there is an order to these things." The man began to explain, and Hans was becoming impatient.

An'order to things'?What was he on about?

"I...I'm sorry; I don't understand, I - " he chuckled, doing his best to control his voice as agitation rose within him, "- I'm betrothed to Anna. I mean no disrespect, sir, but I thought that I was - "

"You know who I am, yes? Who I am to Anna and Elsa?" The older man began, regaining an ounce of the sterility that had overtaken his mannerisms at the start of the conversation without so much as a missed moment, as if a veil of unfamiliarity had fallen upon him like steel curtains.

Hans didn't need to think long on the answer.

He nodded.

"Yes. I take it you're their uncle, yes? You mentioned that Anna was your niece. Simple enough to understand." He responded curtly, mindful of his tone, still, but he wasn't shy about his voice as all at once, what he was about to tell him was becoming far more obvious even before the older man had the chance to even say it. And all the same, if that were to ring true, the prince thought crossly, that would only aid in his bubbling fury, writhing warm and turbulently beneath the surface.

This was not the outcome that he was hoping for.

"Right. Well, I'm sure it is also simple to understand that though you are here betrothed, you don't bear the kind of the authority to make those kinds of decisions. At least...not yet, you don't. I won't deny that you have been more than obliging to the people of this kingdom, a bastion of hope in these trying times. I won't take that from you, but to consider that you have a place deciding what is and isn't to be done, to interject yourself in just a way is, at worse, misguided." Stopping for a moment, he placed a hand upon Hans's shoulder.

Hans bit back his urge to retort, to bite back with equal condescension.

There it was, the wall to his influence that, frankly, he should have seen coming. He'd been hoping that the path forward would have been paved with smooth stones, without resistance or cause for such as the time wound down for Anna's awakening...whenever that would be.

But that would have been too easy, it seemed.

It was never easy for him.

Nothing was ever that simple, that cut and dry. He'd say that made him feel bitter, but by this point, he almost expected something inconvenient to happen.

"Understand you are still of the Southern Isles; the throne of Arendelle is sealed so long as you two are unwed and she slumbers. That is simply the way of things. For now, I will be the serving head of the council of Arendelle, just until Anna awakens and the two of you wed. I would be more than honored to pass the torch to you then, Hans, but I can't in good faith hand over the power of the throne another so quickly, so flippantly. You understand?" The older man finished, allowing the words to sink into Hans.

Ah, there it is.

He...didn't have thatbirthrightto lead.

He could have just said that and been done with it, Hans spat with genuine disdain at the man's longwinded explanation, and to be entirely honest, he wasn't terribly surprised. He wasn't exactly new to the concept, having been deposed to his own kingdom's thrown twelve times before he even had a clear shot at taking it for himself. It was more than evident to him that to stay in the Southern Isles and hope that each of his eldest brothers were to perish (either by his hand or some apparently unfortunate 'accident', which ever was more convenient) was not only time consuming but strictly unviable as it would be harder to hide his supposed involvement with their untimely relinquishments of the throne.

He'd be one hundred years old before he managed to take that power for himself, if he ever managed to, that is.

However, his assumptions that just being her betrothed and set for union with the family of Arendelle was his first mistake, leading to just this sort of situation he was in.

Figured he'd be careless not to consider the potential pushback from his lack of relation to the family.

It was only natural, after all.

However, he was still in control of the situation. He could still sway it in his favor.

Even if he couldn't directly control the throne, not from his, decidedly, low position, there was still a place for him. He just had to work out where. Besides, if any of the other nobles and the people found out that he was thrown carelessly aside by some voiceless family member that hardly had the same presence as he...that could certainly be used in his favor down the line.

He just had to choose the right moment.

After all; the love of the people and the influence that brought, could win any batter of wills if given enough time.

"I...yes, I understand. Though...surely there is something I can do to assist? These...will be my people - no - they are already my people. I can't stand idly by whilst they scramble to recover after everything that has happened. Even if it isn't the throne, I don't care. I just...want to help my people." He declared boldly, stepping forward with assurance that was echoed upon Linnea's face.

"Yes! Our Prince Hans has been nothing but faithful. He's dedicated, loyal - " Raising his hand again, the older man chuckled.

"Yes, yes, I've heard. I can't seem to escape the endless adulation and praises of all the others that you've met. The other council members and I have been discussing this matter. It was always known that in the case that the current seats of power, both the queen and princess, were...disturbed...I would return to serve in my brother's stead. Agnarr was very clear on that, though...I suppose we could discuss an adjustment to this clause considering everything you've done so far. With discussions of what is to be done with the prisoner, Anna's condition, the whereabouts of Elsa...there is a long road ahead, but you are more than welcome to continue assisting the people ofyourkingdom, Prince Hans. That, more than titles and infighting, is invaluable." He assured the younger man, giving him a kind smile that Hans forced himself to return.

His mind was elsewhere.

So I just need to give them time. Considering my general approval with the people, it shouldn't be difficult for them to see that I have a place somewhere on the council. I just need to keep up the act, wait it out...I can manage that much, Hans thought, relaxing a bit.

He could play the waiting game.

"To think that you would even consider that...I cannot thank you enough...oh, right, I never did receive your name?" Hans answered, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. The older man paused, clearing his throat.

"Ah, my apologies. I am Lord Rüdiger, though Rüdiger is what I prefer. Titles and niceties such as that are exhausting, to say the least. I'd forgotten I never told you my name." Rüdiger admitted, relishing the growing calm that filled the space between the three of them.

"It's alright. So...where do we go from here?" Hans asked, now genuinely curious as to what his next move should be. He would need time to prove his worth to the council, and even more to work into his name the influence he needed to align his aims, but he had more than enough time for that.

But at this moment, he needed the next best step.

Thinking on the question for a bit, Rüdiger responded.

"For now? Rest. You have more than served the needs of Arendelle and your betrothed. Do not think the fact that your ending of the winter has gone unnoticed. Just about every noble, maid, nurse, and townsperson alike had spoken of your honor and on your behalf. It was by your hand that the very curse that has plagued this kingdom has fallen and granted spring. We have not forgotten that. So you have earned yourself a respite for the evening, Prince Hans." Rüdiger assured him, taking to Linnea with a stern eye.

"Make sure he is taken care of, alright? I can't imagine a battle that demanding is kind to any degree to the body. As for I, there are matters to discuss with the council regarding issues that you needn't mind for right now. We will speak again in the morning when you've had time to recuperate. I'll have the nursemaids prepare you a meal in the kitchens; Ivar hasn't left for the night yet." The lord offered, and though Hans wasn't exactly pleased with this flippant and vague notion of "resting" (though admittedly, he was actually tired, but that was besides the point), he conceded.

It wouldn't do to sour this moment with pettiness and childish defiance.

Patience was key.

"Thank you, Rüdiger. I think a nice bath and a warm meal could do me some good. What do you think, Linnea?" Hans plastered that practiced, doting smile, casting a look to his watcher who wholeheartedly agreed.

"I think that is a splendid idea. You've worked hard enough for the day. Come, let's get you to your bath. I'm sure it's drawn by now." The older woman imposed, and the prince nodded, looking to Rüdiger one last time, giving him a kindly glance before allowing the former to lock him in arm and guide him away.

"Yes, get rested, Hans. You've more than earned it. I will be back in the 'morn to gather you; we'll be making for the village to oversee repairs. Have a good evening, alright?" He called, and Hans nodded.

Oh, he'd have a good evening alright.

That much was certain.

Especially since he had visiting a certain someone in mind.

"See you tomorrow, Rüdiger. I look forward to it." The prince, now leaving the room as the lord followed behind for a moment before parting ways, responded, and before long, he and Linnea were on their way over the short distance to the cleaning rooms. He was aware that he didn't really need the older woman to help him, but it sold it more if he acted dependent and bullshit like that.

He just needed to keep up the act so long as he was around others.

"Slowly, my prince. We don't want you straining yourself further, do we?" She reminded him, applying her shoulder and weight to support his own as they stepped into the bathing room. Closing the door behind them, they were greeted to a pristine, tiled space, warm decorative items and lit fixtures of light illuminating the quiet space as the heat from the wooden tub, nestled further in the corner, beckoned to Hans from afar. There was an invitation of calm that at least eased his former tensions, the man relaxing as Linnea let him go and went over to the tub to test its temperature. Sticking in a careful finger, it was apparently sufficient as she pulled it free, nodding with supposed approval with a turn to the prince in her stead.

"It is ready, my liege. Do you need help undressing, or - " Shaking his head, he refused her offer.

He wasn't the sort to let her touch him. He wasn't desperate enough to sell the illusion of helplessness enough to let her do so.

"Ah, that's fine, Linnea. You fuss far too much over me. I'm not a babe, you know." He teased, peeling off his damp clothes and setting them upon the tiles beneath his feet, relishing the warm air as it hit his still cool skin, his guardian looking away quickly to allow his dignity to be preserved.

She paled at his chiding, quick to defend herself.

"No, I never thought that. I simply want to make sure you're okay - " Hans laughed, one that was played up with good humor, a rich sound that echoed through the bathing room.

"I'm only joking. You were always so serious..." The prince scolded jokingly, though he wished more to roll his eyes.

Gods, could she take a joke?

At his words, she appeared to relax.

"Ah, yes. My apologies, my prince. It's just...been quite a day." She admitted, rushing back to his side as the last of his clothes were shed, still making sure to avert her gaze.

It was common knowledge that common folk were never to look upon those above them. Even in her station, as the overseer of the prince and his sworn protector...she was still lower than him.

A mere tool.

And that was how it would always be.

After just a few moments, he was at the edge of the tub, leaning carefully upon it as he was slowly helped inside, the young man, as soon as his foot, then his leg, and after which his body, was set into the warm water, sighed deeply, a sense of instant relief overcoming him once he'd managed to lean his back against the wooden panels holding the water.

This...was heaven.

It was almost enough to help him forget about his worries, his unsatisfactory position beneath the crown, his lost eye.

Almost enough.

But not enough.

"Is all well for you, sire? Do you need anything else?" The older woman asked, stepping back with strict movements, placing her hands behind her back.

Hans thought about it.

No, what I really need is time to think. I need her to leave. I've had enough of her for today. No, I've had enough of everyone for the moment,the prince thought, but he never allowed his coarse, crude thoughts to filter through to words she could hear.

He just had to play along a little longer.

"Linnea, you've done enough. I can't ask you do more than you already have, I'll be okay, I promise. You can go relax now. Thank you." Hans was sure to add a touch of saccharine, dripping sweetly from his lips as his words of gratitude rang deeply in her softening expression.

People were easy.

So...horribly...easy.

"Alright, my lord. Please, have a pleasant evening. I think I would like to turn in for the night, but please, if there is anything that you need, anything at all...please don't hesitate to send for me. I will be at your side in only a moment's time." Came a fervent promise, one, against all else, he knew true, wholly and truly.

That was right.

She was always eager to serve.

"I know. Now, get yourself something to eat. Relax! There is much to do, but for now, see to it that you are taken care of." He urged, and with a bow, the woman turned, parting to the door before she gripped the knob leading to the hallway.

"Goodnight, my prince." Her final words.

And then, she turned the knob, stepped through the door, and it was closed behind in only a breath.

Hans was alone.

Finally...well and truly alone.

He thought that she would never leave, and at her exit, one he felt was far overdue, he took to cleaning himself, taking the bar beside him in the little tray that was plastered just to the side of the tub, and he scrubbed himself, realizing quickly that his muscles were certainly aching, the warm, arid water working wonders into his stiff joints as his thoughts raved over the events of the day.

Things were going well.

Not perfectly, certainly not, if Rüdiger and his nonsense was anything to go off of, but considering everything that could have gone wrong, considering his tens, hundreds, his...thousands of failures before this one...things were going relatively well, even with these perceived set backs. It, like all things, he knew, took time to fall in-place, to align the way that he needed and wanted them to, and to make certain that they did, he'd have to play along.

Play to the wills of those he thought, no, knew, were beneath him.

Play nice with delegates and nobles he couldn't stand.

All the while playing the part of a doting fiancé to what he presumed would be a dense, braindead idiot.

There was so much to do, so much to take care of...and just one him. And people thought he didn't know sacrifice.

He scoffed, the thought amusing him. Everything he did was sacrifice. He deserved what he wanted, he'd worked for it. And by the looks of it, he thought with an edge of dry, witless humor, he still was.

It wasn't over.

Not until it was.

But there was other things on his mind.

Despite the laundry list of things that still need doing, the ends that begged to be tied, he did agree with Rüdiger on one thing and one things alone: he did need to relax...and he knew just how to do it, the prince grinned a gnashed, cheshire grin as he felt himself grow warm with elation and anticipation.

He was sure the dog had missed him after all of this time.

Washing off the soap, the man stood from the water, shedding any pretense of injury, feigned or otherwise, to leave the tub and search the room for his towel and clothes. Now, at this waning hour, he was sure that much of the castle would winding down for the evening, but it was probably best that he wait for a bit, allow things to settle for sure before making his way down to the dungeons. There was an assurance of memory, clear in his mind as a reminder of his visit to the brute just a few hours prior, and without his will, his flesh hardened at the recollection of that day.

The rich texture of that cavity, Kristoff's depravity almost giving him cause to forget the illusion of civility that he'd carefully crafted around himself.

But he just had to wait.

Wait, and he could fully peel it way...and let go.

If just for a little while.

Putting on a pressed shirt and pair of dark pants, it was casual, comfortable, and toweling his hair loosing before, discarding that, too, upon the pile of items that he'd taken off just minutes prior, he went to the door and was greeted to a quieting palace.

I should probably get back to my chambers and wait for a bit. Maybe eat...then I can leave. Better to not having people question where I am..., Hans thought, and with a breath, he closed the door behind him. Through the halls, he spotted the odd noble here and there, a nursemaid occasionally, too, as the palace around him came to calm. After such a long day, there was an air of ease that had, since the start of the storm, and the subsequent illness of the princess...despite the latter tragedy, there were high spirits, echoed in the pitched greetings that came his way as he traveled back to his room.

"Ah, goodnight, Prince Hans. Arendelle thanks you."

"Hello, Prince Hans!"

"My liege! Are you alright, do you need help?"

Again and again, he was met with unending adulation, and each person was a greeting he gave in return, his ego eating up every bit of this attention and then some.

He loved this.

He absolutelylovedthis.

I could get used to this, he thought, smiling and waving them away just as he made it to his room.

And he wasn't even the king yet.

By the gods, he couldn't wait to take the throne.

Slipping quietly into his room, he was met with an explosion of rich herbs and aromas as a steaming bowl of

lapskaus was placed upon his nightstand, waiting for him.

"Prompt. I like that." He uttered, waltzing up to the bowl of fresh food, allowing the scent to fill his nose, and in response, his stomach growled in time, the young man hardly noticing just how hungry he'd been.

No, he was starving.

Taking it and sitting upon the bed, he ate in the calm and silence of his chambers, relishing each bite before setting it back upon his nightstand and leaning back on the pillows, sighing with relief at the softness of the bed.

Closing his eyes, he felt himself beginning to doze.

It's probably be fine to rest for a bit...won't be able to leave for a while anyway..., the prince reasoned, closing eyes in kind.

And then he was off, asleep in just moments.

-(A few hours later)-

Opening his eyes, the light beyond the window had faded to a dark, star-studded sky, the fjord beyond pitched black and dark from the waned light, the prince sitting up and regarding the darkness of the room around him, realizing soon after he'd awakened that time had passed. Rubbing his eyes, he noticed that his bowl that had bore his meals just hours ago was gone, marking the presence of a maid that had come in some indistinct time before, not that he cared much for that.

That was their job, after all. The work of small people was irrelevant to him.

Listening clearly for any signs of activity outside of his chamber door, Hans was pleased to, from where he was and as far as he could tell, pinpoint no sign of the presence of people outside in the halls.

Now was the time.

Swinging his feet over the side of the bed, he came to a stand, stretching quietly and carefully before taking on his boots from before, their having been polished, too, in the relatively brief period of time that he'd drifted off to nap, further impressing the prince as he slipped them on. Adjusting them, the young man made his way over to the door, and pressing his ear against it, he listened, trying more than anything to focus through the thrum of excitement that echoed with need in his chest.

One breath was followed by silence.

Another much the same.

After several moments, deeming it fine to leave, he turned the knob, opening the intricately, paneled entrance carefully, mutedly, as peering, green eyes scanned the halls for any that might see him, but thankfully, there were none.

This was perfect.

Stepping out, he did just one last once-over before closing the door behind him, and taking a left down the hall, down towards the dungeons, Hans smiled.

Truly, and honestly, he grinned.

He could hardly contain his excitement.

It was time to pay Kristoff a visit once more.