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

Let Me Go

It was the middle of night. A single candle burned beside the massive king poster bed, the only source of light in the omnipresent dark. Elsa slipped out of bed, silent, and grabbed a heavy cloak from the closet. Its effect was instant. The queen was practically invisible in the dark, with the cloak's deep cowl shading her radiant hair and eyes. She snuck several glances back at Hans, who remained asleep, before making her way to the door. She reached for the door knob, and twisted it with fingers crossed. If everything went well, it wouldn't make a sound.

Click. Elsa cringed. Hans' snores lightened, but did not cease.  She pulled the door completely free, and slipped into the hall. Immediately, a draft of cold wind assaulted her. The hallway was full of shivering flames, and decorated suits of armor that had far exceeded their expiry. She forged on, ignoring the shadows that loomed on all sides. Her exit was in sight, so close she could almost feel the cool, nightly breezes on her skin.

"Where are you going?"

Elsa's stomach dropped, but it became idle again when she recognized her sister's voice. "Anna," She turned. "I couldn't fall asleep. I was just going to get some fresh air." 

Her sister slinked forward, her eyebrows crinkled in genuine confusion. Then, she resumed focus. "Tell me the truth, Elsa. We've kept so many truths from each other." She paused to allow the weight of her words to fill the air. "Are you leaving Hans already?"

"I have to." She wouldn't tell Anna the reason, even if she begged. "He's not himself anymore."

"What?" Anna paused again, and lowered her voice. "Is there something wrong with him?"

Before that moment, Elsa hadn't considered the possibility that Hans may still be suffering from his frozen heart. Before that moment, she had been willing to abandon him without explanation, to vanish back into the mountains and to leave Arendelle in banks of snow.

"You're right. I have to cure him. If I'm the cause, I can cure him, right?" Anna smiled, and Elsa responded by returning to her room. She slung the cloak over the arm of the nearest chair, and slipped back into the covers. A certain sense of doom enveloped her as she pulled the sheets up to her neck. She was once again returning to a hopeless situation, once again seizing a minute chance.

                                                         ❅ ❄ ❆

"There we are, your Highness. A beautiful brooch and dress that could rival those of Aphrodite herself." Elsa glanced down at the pale yellow gown and chuckled quietly. Never, in a million years, would she have chosen the sickly coloration.

"Now, deary. You'd best be downstairs in a couple minutes. Hans has requested a sleigh ride, and he'd love to see your enthusiasm." She scuttled out of the room, leaving Elsa by herself. A quick glance out the window confirmed the tailor's claims. Hans stood, also alone, beside the sleigh. He looked impeccable, almost excessively so. It wasn't like him to have perfectly-even hair, and boots shined to a tee. Or was it?

When Elsa arrived outside, she was not greeted by Hans' warm smile. Instead, the new king scowled a bit, and helped her into the ornate sled. She watched him carefully, and for a moment, their eyes met. "Hans? What happened to you?" She knew he wouldn't be able to respond the way he should. Or rather, she refused to believe he could.

The sleigh rocketed forward, and Hans began to smooth his trousers with his hands. "Why are you asking me that, Elsa?" His tone bordered on aggression. "What gives you the right?"

Elsa turned away, and directed her attention to the snow. It passed the carriage like waves foaming past a ship. The trees also whipped by in a blur, their poses only visible for a few seconds before they faded into the ubiquitous white.

They arrived at a staggering, timeworn tavern. Hans yanked Elsa from the carriage, and pushed her ahead of him. She stumbled through the door frame, and into a realm of organized chaos. What the tavern lacked in appearance was negated by the boisterous sound that came from within. There were men at the bar engaged in arguments and contests. Loud music thundered from the on-stage orchestra. At the center of the room lay two wooden swords.

Hans clapped his hands, and everyone became silent. He leaned over, and picked up one of two swords. "I challenge any one of you to a duel. The first to be touched loses." 

Murmurs passed throughout the crowd. A lanky man rose from the bar, stroking his beard in thought. "And what would one get, for winning such a wager?" 

Hans gestured to Elsa, and she shrunk back. "If you beat me, you'll get a kiss from the queen of Arendelle herself!"

The roar that followed was instantaneous, and the bearded man stepped forward to take Hans' offer. Elsa tried to slip back through the entrance, but two burly men had appeared in front of it. Their cold expressions and crossed arms sent her stumbling back. Damn.

More cheers sounded out from behind her. The noise was high, the clanging of glasses distracting. Elsa channeled the only thing she truly knew, fear, and raised her hands toward the guards. From them came swirls of glistening ice. Both guards were thrown from their feet, giving Elsa the opportunity she needed. She raced forward without wasting a second. The sleigh was but a few meters away, the perfect--Hans had seen her go. He followed her to the sleigh, and withdrew his sword.

"You're ruining my reputation, Elsa." He grabbed her arm, and struck her with its flat side several times. "Can you fathom how hard it is, to rebuild a broken reputation?" She cried out, but he persisted, until the red hue of her skin was impossible to miss.

But for some reason, the beating was accompanied by a sense of astonishing relief. Her Hans wouldn't have done this, not even under the threat of his own life. This wasn't him, which meant the real "him" could still be recovered. For some reason, she knew he would only fully heal when she managed to make him fall in love with her. Again.