I've Come to Kill You (Elsa x Hans)

Don't Let Her In - Part 2

"You have to go, Anna." Hans' shoulders were squared, his stance unwavering. He reached for his sheath, and rested his hand on the hilt of his sword. It was a warning to the eager princess, one she clearly understood.

Anna dropped back, the lights in her eyes extinguishing. A look of betrayal crossed her face, and her mouth opened slightly, as if words were lingering upon her tongue.  

"I'll go." It was that fast. She had already submitted. She moved to the door, though every step was exaggerated and slow, as if she expected Hans to change his mind. She looked back one last time, but to her disappointment, Hans simply shook his head. The answer was inscribed in his eyes, written across his posture. 

The door slammed shut. Anna vanished into the storm, a storm that would deter even the most valiant of warriors. Her actions were admirable, he had to admit -- foolish, but admirable. 

"Hans," The prince turned, and bowed slightly before the queen that hovered atop the flight. She was now fully dressed in her new favorite gown, the one that faded from light to dark blue. 

"I want to show you something. Everything." Her voice trickled away, though her gaze stayed fixed upon Hans. "I want to show you what I can do, with my powers." She descended the stairs, and floated over to him like a ghost who was haunting an abandonded fortress.

"You can show me anything, Elsa."  He had already seen her bare and cold, with the only darkness coming from the shadows of moonlight. He had seen her lying beneath him, with her arms wrapped around his neck.

"Then follow me." She spun around and burst through the doors in one fluid movement. Hans idled behind for a moment. The weather was nothing short of perilous. Even a fool could see that.

"Oh, Hans," He muttered to himself. "Coming to Arendelle was nothing short of foolish. How threatening could some flurries possibly be?" He marched forward, jutting his chin in anticipation of the blizzard's cruel touch.

The world outside was painted white. It was overt, where Elsa had gone. She had left, in her absence, a masterpiece of architecture. A second icy stairwell dangled from the mountainside, spiraling downward like a ribbon into the ravine below. 

"Elsa?" There was no response. Hans paced forward, watching his every step. Tumbling down the mountainside wouldn't be the best of deaths, but he doubted his brothers would care. He grabbed onto the top rail, ignoring the plummeting sensation in his stomach as he descended. The ground was visible a mile down, though it was obscured by a wintery haze.  

Finally, after what seemed like a milennia of descension, Hans came upon an icy cavern. It was as if one of the Gods of Arendelle had, amidst a tumultuous war, punched a jagged hole into the cliffside. 

Hans gritted his teeth and pressed on, manuevering between the stalagmites that littered the ground. 

Finally, he found Elsa, hanging back at the rear of the cave.

"Hans, it's just a little farther." She turned her head slightly and arched a single eyebrow at him, as if she hadn't expected him to pursue her.

                                                            ❅ ❄ ❆

     They reached a pool of water, six feet at its deepest. Hans leaned against the cavern wall and began to unbuckle his boots. He watched as Elsa swam toward the center of the glistening basin. Her gown was gradually disappearing, as any gown forged solely of ice would, under the circumstance.

Once his boots were off, his shirt was next to be removed. He folded it as best he could, and placed it to the side. Slowly, he made his way toward the place where Elsa waded. The water was surprisingly  warm, though Hans could still see his breath, escaping in the same white wisps as it always did.

Elsa's hair was undone again, though the same streak of purple haunted both of her eyelids. She placed her hands on Hans' strong shoulders, and gazed into his eyes. She wanted to kiss him. He could see the longing in her eyes. But, being a woman of pride and a fair dose of stubbornness, she would not be the first to succumb to her emotions.

"Come here." Hans whispered. He pulled Elsa close again, hands wandering up the sides of her waist. His lips met hers for the third time, and for some startling reason, Hans knew it would be one of the last.