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

King of Arendelle

Not a thing had changed since Elsa and Hans had departed from Arendelle. Ships still bobbed in the harbor, loaded with goods, and the castle still loomed behind massive gates. Hans helped Elsa out of the rowboat, and followed her toward the city. There was a eerie silence between them, caused, in part, by their return to the place they had longed to escape.

The guards, with slight hesitation and a few muttered words, opened the gates, allowing Elsa and Hans to enter the massive cobblestone courtyard. The expanse was empty, and Elsa could imagine the ghosts of parents running about with their children in tow. Once, there were streamers, and jubilant music that filled the air, but all of that frenzied excitement was long gone.

"Elsa?" She turned, though her mind was already inside the palace. The courtyard was foggy and desolate, and quite frankly, it was giving her the creeps. Nevertheless, she smiled, and stood before him with her hands linked and her hair in the messiest updo she could manage.

"If I don't ask now," Hans said, "I'll never ask." He knelt down and pulled something from his pocket. It was a little box, sealed with a pattern of diamonds, which were organized in the shape of a snowflake. Elsa smiled faintly, still wary from their journey, and took the ring from the box. She examined the gem, its twinkling surface, and the pale blue ring attached to it. Then, she looked up, and her eyes met Hans'.

"Yes. Of course." She embraced him, and her eyes widened in surprise at the warmth of his jacket and skin. Only a few days prior, he had almost been claimed by the cold.

"We'll have a grand wedding, then." Hans decided. He led Elsa inside, and down the red-carpeted hall, resting one hand against her back. "We'll invite ambassadors from all around, and the courtyard will be alive again."

Elsa grinned, and ascended the stairs with Hans. They passed several doors, which were all designated to guests. At the end of the hall, though, was a master bedroom, one Elsa had only visited once or twice.

"And then we'll consummate the marriage, and--"

"You'll be King of Arendelle."

Hans looked away, as if her statement was an accusation. She paced forward, and pressed her frail hands against his cheeks. She was a spectacle: covered in dirt and draped in torn, sandy clothing. But her ring shone brightly, the most expensive thing she had worn since her coronation.

His gaze returned to hers. "Elsa, do you love me, as much as I do you?"

"Of course, Hans." Not a hint of doubt tainted her voice. 

He took her hands in his, and lifted them. He began to smile, almost giddy, and she mirrored his expression. They began to step together: first forwards, then to the side, and back again. It was an elegant waltz, one fueled by pure emotion, one absent of music. He lowered his hands to her waist and lifted her gently into the air. She rested her hands against his shoulders, and he held her there, as if he were raising a trophy for the world to see. Then, he brought her back down to her feet, and ended the dance with a dip.

"We should both bathe," Hans suggested. "Then I'll send out invitations, to every kingdom within a thousand miles!" He bowed before Elsa, and exited the room in a single, swift turn.

Elsa broke down immediately. Tears rushed down her face faster than they ever had before. She rushed over to the window, and peered up at the crystal-white sky. Already, snow was beginning to fall, coating the grass and budding flowers in a thin, white sheet. The Gods may have shown her mercy back at the beach, but she feared their fickle ways would never cease.