Redemption: A Frozen Fan fiction (Hans love story)

Chapter Four: Celia

At first all I could see was dirt and a rows of barracks lined along the sides of the gates.  Looking past the barracks is where my heart absolutely sank into despair. Miles and miles, as far as the eye could see stood looming over the land like a green shadow was grapevines. That’s when I remembered the trade product Elba produced. Wine.

    The Italian man led me through the crowd of convicts who all slowly shuffled away from the vineyards obviously weary of the days’ work. I couldn’t help but stare at the people walking. Even though they were all from different parts of the world they had shared the same exhaustion. In the midst of my staring and thinking I hadn’t noticed the people in front of me, or rather the person.

“Hey! Why don’t you watch where you’re going!” A light female voice snapped. My attention was now drawn to the girl whom had fell on the ground. My eyes darted to where the poor girl sat. I extended my hand towards her in order to help her to her feet. The woman’s hair had been bundled in head covering but the covering was now in her lap. Her hair cascaded down the front and back of her body. The color was darker than ink and midnight combined, which ultimately should have made her skin florescent white but it was tinted, tan from working out in the sun all day everyday. Her eyes were like silver stars that would shine even during the day.

“My apologies -” I started.

“Keep your apologies, just stay out of my way next time,” she lashed. With that she stood up, without accepting my help, put her covering back on and proceeded in her direction.

“Ah that’s Celia, she’s a fiery one and her tale is a tragic one indeed. This way galeotto.” I followed the Italian man but my eyes still waivered over to the girl, watching her move through the crowds.

“Hey galeotto pay attention, you don’t need to bump into anyone else today.” My mind reeled back to the Italian man and I saw that he was quite a distance away from me. With a tired sigh I moved at a faster pace, being careful not to bump into anyone else, and reached the doorway to one of the barracks.

    The barracks were the color brown. Everything about them reminded me of the color brown. The barrack I was placed in, had rows and rows of what someone here called a bed but they certainly were not beds. Beds are nice, warm, comfy and soft; these “beds”, however, were the complete opposite. They were small, and stacked on top of one another like bunks and there was no mattresses, it was just plain wood. No blanket, no pillow, just wood! That wasn’t even the worse part. One could even smell the color brown and it hit me with such a strong force that without stopping myself, I spun around outside and released a stomach full of water and bread out in front of the doorway and on someone’s shoes. When the vomiting and coughing finally ended I had realized that I actually had puked on someone else’s shoes and they were most likely disgusted with me. I raised my eyes and saw a big man, who , in stature, reminded me of my twin brothers who were tall and rather gruff looking, except with italian dark skin and longer black hair. This man also looked more than gruff, he seemed angry and rightly so. My eyes widened with utter fear and a little embarrassment, I’m a Prince for goodness sakes, I shouldn’t be spewing my insides out in public!

“I do so apologize, sir, it’s just the barracks’ scent caught me off guard,” I had started to explain my grotesque actions but the large man growled, reached for my sweat stained, loose shirt, pulled me down to the level of his shoes and began cleaning the vomit off. I attempted to move away from the man but his grip on me had been stronger than me. So this is what I had succumbed to... Finally, when the large barbarian  had finished, he threw me to the ground while muttering something in italian.

“That’s Carlo, he was wanted for pirating and from what I’ve heard, he’s done some things that were worthy of more than just a hanging,” the Italian guide informed asme he helped me to my feet. He examined my now stained vomit shirt and smirked, as if to think that I deserved what I got and perhaps in the long scheme of things I did deserve it but of course that hadn’t been the first thought on my mind.

“If that’s the case then why is he here and not dead?”

“Because we needed help on the island, too many death sentences but he’s banished forever, unlike yourself, he can never return to his wife and children, or should I say wives and children,” the Italian guide started to laugh. “Well this is where you will be staying, you are bunked all the way in the back on the very bottom and tomorrow when the gong goes off you’ll just follow everyone else to the mess hall. Your new clothes will be on your bed and you will be expected to wear them before you fall asleep tonight. Here you are no longer Prince Hans of the Southern Isles but Hans, the convict and you will do what you are told or face the consequences, understood?” All at once the reality of the situation hit me. This was really happening, I have really been banished, I really do have to work and live with these vile pigs...

“Are you going to be sick again galeotto?” he asked. I shook my head, there would be nothing left for me to throw up..

“Am I going to see you around?” I asked.

“Of course, I work up in the fields with the rest of the field masters,” he responded. I didn’t know why but I felt a little bit comfortable and eased that he would be with a mile distance of me.

“Then what do I call you?” I asked. The Italian guide smirked at me, and uneasy feeling took place of my new found comfort.

“Master,” with that he turned on his heel and walked off.

    Never in my whole life had I called someone ‘master’ and never imagined that one day I would be calling someone else who wasn’t of noble birth or blood ‘master’. Well Hans, it’s time to gain control of yourself and go in. I ventured into the now filled room of the barracks. Men stacked on top of one another with only a thin wooden barrier between them. When I reached the end of the hall I saw to my sheer dismay that Carlo would be right above me. I stopped short, and inhaled sharply, he noticed me, looked me up and down then turned to his side, ignoring my presence, which I didn’t expect. On the bottom of the “bed” sat a pair of dirty, dark gray clothes and shoes accompanied with a black belt to hold everything together. I looked around for a way to conceal my body for some privacy but saw that there was none.

“If you are looking for a place for privacy you can forget about it, galleta, if you are going to change, your safest bet is to do it right where you are standing.” A strangers voice called. My eyes glanced over to the voice and saw a man laying in the lowest bed parallel to my own. He looked like the rest of the italians but his skin tone was a little brighter.

“I see that,” I retorted dryly. The man raised his hands in defense.

“Don’t shoot the messenger,” he replied. Without speaking a response I turned my back to everyone else and took of my the vomit stained shirt and tossed it aside and replaced it with the gray itching shirt. My skin immediately reacted negatively towards the shirt. It was tough and gritty with other people’s sweat burned into the material  and it was smeared with brown stains, that I prayed was only dirt. I dreaded putting on the pants but by some miracle they weren’t nearly as bad as the top. I gathered the clothes that I had left in the corner and shoved them to the farthest corner of my bed and rested my body against the stiff, hard wood panels. I shifted around the small compacted area I had all to myself in order to gain comfort but to no avail.

“I would wait until tomorrow to get comfort amigo, after a hard day’s work out in the vineyards, you will come to love that bed. Not as much as you are used to in a castle but it’ll be better than nothing, you will see,” the man commented.  I ignored him but for some reason he thought that gave him permission to speak more.  “My name is Alberto, I come from Spain and you?”

“Alberto, if you don’t already know who I am, then you are clearly not worthy to talk to so, if you please I would like to try and sleep.. Goodnight..” Alberto never said a word after that and in mere minutes I was able to lull myself to sleep.

Thank you to all who are reading!!! I'm sorry it took forever to put up this chapter, I was away on vacation! Hope you enjoy it! I'll try and make the chapters longer!!

I don't own Frozen or Hans!