Hans felt a jolt running through his veins, running fast in his body. As it ran in the back of his neck he wanted to throw up, but he was far to tired and has nothing but ice in his body to come up.
Before long he had fallen into a deep slumber. A deep chilled slumber. The kiss had warmed him- enough to keep the heart pumping but his body remained cold even as the icy liquid changed to blood.
Damn… he did it again… Kristoff was so sick of Hans making everything far more difficult than it had to be. “Yeah… that’s best.”
He bent down scooping both up in his arms. Even combined both where fairly light- it made him question how Hans was able to carry Elsa with how light he was.
What was even more surprising was the fact that Hans felt far colder than Elsa. Kristoff remembered carrying him to the cottage the night of his ‘death’ and recalled that his body was warmer than most. He was in trouble- and for some odd reason Kristoff found himself caring.
The congregation watched again stunned not knowing what to do. Was the queen dead? Was their lord dead? A few small children fallowed Kristoff as he carried the couple to the castle, some even throwing flowers behind and in front of them to wish them a safe journey through their dark slumber.
Olaf trailed after, gripping Elsa’s dress as it hung. If a snowman could cry he would. “Anna… is mama gonna be okay?”
Anna bent down a scooped up her ‘nephew’. As she cradled the snowman, she mad sure he still had a grip on Elsa’s blood stained dress. “Mama will be okay.” She pecked the top of Olof’s head “it is papa we are worried about.” It felt odd to use those names for her sister and ex-fiancé. But it, strangely enough, it helped calm her down, talking to Olof like he was a toddler, and the people in Kristof’s arms, where the boys parents.
As she walked, cradling the boy, she though about her answer. It was true that Elsa would pull through this, unscathed. But if Hans died, the queen would be far from okay. If the lord was lost, the would lose the queen too. The state of depression that may be to come, would make Elsa over the past year, seem like the happiest person alive, by comparison.
"Everything is going to be fine" she cooed, not only for Olof, but for her, and for the entourage that walked with her.
As she slept Elsa dreamed. She dreamed about what should have been in stead of what had been. Anna was off dancing with a spritely older man. And a redheaded prince approach the new queen. ‘I am so glad you told him no, so now you are free to dance with me.’ He smirked
'But.. I don't dance' she said again
'You don't have to. It is all in the leading' the man said as he took Elsa's hand
Elsa was about to pull back, anyone would have. But she stopped. He had taken her hand by force, yes. But he hadn’t done it forcefully. In fact he was quite gentle, and warm. ‘If..if you say so…’
'I do..' He smiled again, and pulled or a better term was gently led, her towards the dance floor. Although he was persistent, he was more persuading then demanding. In his presence, Elsa found herself doing things easily, that she would have not done at all. 'You probably know who I am..' Elsa blushed slightly 'since you are at my party and all. But I sadly have no idea who you are.' She said in a way that asked for his name^!
Though he had fallen fast asleep- and on the verge of losing consciousness- Hans could feel the burning heat of Kristoff’s arms carrying him and the slight warmth emanating from Elsa’s cool body. The blood running through his veins was slow and close to freezing, but not quite. Elsa had succeeded, but should the liquids in his veins not be warmed they would freeze. Hans began to lose what little control of his limbs he still had as one arm fell off its perch and swing with Kristoff’s strides.
Olaf gripped the dress in one hand watching his parents being carried off. “But… but what if they’re not okay…” He looked at Anna with a teary eye. “What… what if daddy doesn’t make it? what will happen to Mama? will she still have to marry that…” Olaf tried to find a good word to describe Remus- though he could only think of a few he had heard Kristoff yell. “that-” his voice went hushed looking around to make sure no one but Anna would hear him say it. “bitch Remus?”
Almost on cue Hans began decaying faster getting colder in Kristoff’s arms. “Damn… Anna… Hes slipping fast.” He found himself again caring about Hans… but if Hans passed Elsa was sure to follow. Sure she had been able to sustain on her own, thrive even, but there had always been those pieces she couldn’t pick up on her own- pieces that neither Kristoff nor Anna could pick up for her.
Yet for some reason- Hans, who had more pieces that needed fixing, could help her pick her’s up even before they fell. They were both broken and well aware of it, but they became the glue that held each other’s pieces in place. The pain one held was understood by the other and healed. Both had grown so attached to each other, to the point where they broke when they were separated.
Kristoff was well aware of what losing Hans would do to her- the once strong self preserving Elsa would shatter. He flexed his arm pushing Hans’ head up.
Hans’ eyes opened his eyes for a second, but then they soon shut into an instant rem cycle- into and instant dream. It seemed like he fell into a fantasy of what could have been- of how life could have gone and still be at the same place without all the pain.
‘Forgive me your highness, so rude of me.’ He, tucked under his arm and flashed her a charming smile. ‘Prince Hans Westergaard.’
‘Prince Hans Westergaard?’ she paused a moment blushing and processing his name. ‘are you by any chance the representative of the southern Isles?’
He untucked her and twirled her around to face him again. ‘I am.’ Taking a step he started them dancing across the floor again.
He could see in her eyes she was nervous but trying to hide it, not to mention the slight twitch in her palm. To calm her he kept her hand clasped tight in hers, and his other around her waist pulling her nearer to him. She submitted to every movement he made, yet held a dignified dominance over him. Every foot step she made was graceful and full of ease- like she had danced thousands of times before.
She stepped on his foot a quick moment. Stopping the dance, she tore her hand from his and the other from his shoulder ‘oh no… Prince Hans… I am so sorry.’
He chuckled gently taking her hands back, placing one on his shoulder and the other in his hand. ‘nothing to be sorry for my lady. But please, just Hans.’ His hand found her back once again as he gently towed her back to him- closer this time than last. ‘And If i may be so bold as to say, for claiming you don’t dance- you are a very fine dancer.’