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

Frozen Heart

"Listen, Elsa. You have to wait here." Hans rose, and ushered for her to stay calm and seated. He fled the room before the distraught queen could utter an word in opposition. They were being attacked. In the middle of the ocean. Hans was already climbing to the deck, risking his life because she had agreed to this foolish plan. Elsa remained where she was, her heart pounding. All to her left were scattered goods that she could have been buried under. Crimson wine pooled around mosaics of broken glass, translucent and blood-like. Eventually, Elsa took a deep breath, and forced herself to turn away. 

"Stupid. Stupid!" She rested her head against the back wall, and gritted her teeth. For most of her life, she had been sheltered from danger, and the fickle nature of her powers. Now, she was fighting the urge to cower down, to hide behind another door. 

There was great commotion above deck: muffled shouting and sounds of skirmish. Elsa could hear the metallic clang of swords, and the subsequent cries of unfortunate victims. It was all too much, too much. She should have listened to her parents. She should have concealed. She should have abandoned her feelings for Hans, and stayed secluded within the castle walls.

But her feet moved faster than her mind. She raced up the stairs, and straight into the mayhem unfolding on deck. Hans needed her now more than ever.

 The scene was just as grotesque as Elsa had envisioned. There was another ship a few hundred feet off, with masts twice the size of theirs, and at least two dozen more sailors. Its cotton sails were black as night, making their rippling movement wraith-like, reminiscent of death. 

Elsa scanned the crowd in a hurry, her gaze flitting from one shipmate to the next. Then she spotted him, at the core of the uniformed flurry. The wiry arms of an assailant were wrapped around his neck, thrusting upward several times in a clear attempt at strangulation. Hans grasped every which way, trying with all his might to find a weapon, or anything he could use to free himself.

There was no way Elsa could manuever her way past each sparring pair, and still arrive in time to save her beloved. She could only think of one solution.

Elsa stepped up to the ship's edge, and leapt forward. For a moment, she felt as if she were hovering there, floating in between the scenes of an elaborate play. And then she plummeted toward the ocean, the woolen cloak billowing around her like an archangel's wings. She closed her eyes for a moment. Wind assaulted her face, ripping through her hair without a tinge of mercy.

Elsa fell onto the ocean. Onto. She opened her eyes, and was greeted by a glistening white heaven. The ocean was frozen, and littered with spindly webs of frost. A foot of ice spanned from one horizon to the next. Elsa's jaws dropped, and she continued to stare, gazing upward, her body swathed in a blanket of warmth. The resplendant sun cast down golden rays, endowing everything with Midas' touch.

The queen turned, her lower lip beginning to tremble. All around, sailors loomed, staring down from the decks of their galleons like members of the Inquisition. Hans was there too, on the ship that would've taken them to the Southern Isles. His eyes were wide, his mouth slightly agape. She was a monster to him: untrustworthy, a mutual enemy.

Elsa fell to her knees, and lowered her head. Tears rolled from her eyes in torrents, melting into the snow beneath her. She could see her reflection in the ice, a hazy distortion of the freak she knew herself to be. There was nothing she could do to control her powers. Nothing.

"I don't belong in Arendelle," She muttered between sobs. "And I don't belong in the Southern Isles," Another few sniffles, and several hard blinks. "So where do I belong?" 

"Elsa?"

She raised a single hand, her mind blind to the voice that pierced her mental haze. A burst of magic fled her fingers and danced upon the relentless wind. It slammed into the speaker, and sent him flying backward. There was a thud, followed by silence: all-encompassing, cruel.

The voice was softer now, yet distinguishable still. "You belong with me. You know that. We know that." And then it faded away.

Elsa looked up abruptly, and saw Hans lying there. His sword, which was now reduced to pieces, had fallen several feet to his left. The prince himself was pale as a ghost. His lips moved, but no words escaped them.

"Oh my God," Elsa fell beside him, and held one of his hands up to her face. "I love you, Hans. Please, please don't die."