Love is an open door bitch

His question is a rational one but she can’t help but be amused by it. Will it melt? Has anything else she’s made recently melting? Logically the answer would be a big fat no. But she’d word it as politely as she could manage. The urge to poke holes in his questions is a strong one. His fears are understandable and yet some very childish part of the Queen can’t help but laugh.

         ”No, it won’t melt. Nothing else I’ve made has.. I doubt it will get very warm but.. it won’t melt. It won’t be wet like your jacket.”

That genuinely bothered her. He had to be freezing. All she could offer was a house made of ice and a bed of snow. It.. wasn’t terribly helpful when you really got down to it. All she’d be able to do is keep him cold. There was no heat she could offer him. Even any clothes or blankets she made would likely be more troublesome than helpful.

        It doesn’t feel right to sleep when the Prince has to stay up shivering in a frozen house in a chilly bed. But what can she do? Elsa has nothing she can offer.

                  ” — I’m sorry.” It’s the best I can do is a statement that doesn’t leave her. It stayed caught up, bouncing about in her skull. Is it really an excuse she can give? It doesn’t sound right and she doesn’t want to hear it roll off her tongue.

         ”Once we’ve returned and things are settled in Arendelle you should see a physician. I’m certain that this cold can’t be good for you. I can’t.. make anything other than ice and snow. Neither of those really offer you anything helpful in this situation.”

Her laughter did not offend him, not even beneath his facade. It surprised him. He understood her, in a way, which was definitely a good thing.

         Hans' face remained calm and he nodded almost sternly, lips knitting into a tight line as he kept musing about the current situation. He'd be fine. If he was any more bold, he'd ask for her body warmth to share, but coming onto her so prominently wouldn't gain him anything.

     It'd lessen his chances, even, he thought, rubbing his upper arms.

Elsa's apology, though, surprised him.

          “You didn't do any of this with the purpose of hurting anyone, so I do not think you should apologize to me. Yet, I understand why you do and accept it.” He replied, wishing he'd at least know how to make a fire. He felt a little helpless, but decided to blame it all on the fact that there was no way he'd find dry wood or sticks in the dark, wet snow.

     “I'll be fine.” A tiny smile stole itself back onto his features. “I told you the people from the Southern Isles are hot blooded.” And then he was back to his earlier state of jesting, walking past her to receive his coat from the 'entrance hall'.

“You should go to sleep, your grace. We'll leave as soon as the morning comes.” And with it, hopefully, less of a storm to wade through.  

Nothing will ever make me stop loving Hans’s face.

{♕} — Elias could feel his face burning with shame. It didn’t help that his father’s portrait, stern and regal, stared down at him from the opposite wall, disapproving in every way— at least in Elias’s mind. He would never be the king his father had been. He had already failed his father in more ways than any other person could have ever done. He was a monster that couldn’t even protect his own sister, let alone his kingdom, from the most dangerous foe: himself. But he would take any opportunity to help Anna, even if it was degrading and humiliating for him. “I— I’m sorry… Please, let me see Anna.” 

There was something so broken behind the fallen snow king's eyes that Hans couldn't help but soak up, smiling and gloating in the weakness of it. He slowly rose his gloves hands and almost soundlessly applauded. “Very well. Some more practice and you might even become good at being sorry.” He said softly, letting his arms sink and taking a generous step back.

     “I will let you see Anna by tomorrow. But it is for me to decide when and where. Oh – and I will require to be with you during your meeting. As your sister once said, everything you tell her should be said in front of me, as her lawfully wedded husband.”  

Hans pretending to be a lost puppy

 { ❁ } —— Anika had to suppress a laugh at such a silly name for a horse by covering her mouth with both hands, a couple of giggles escaping. Hands moving under her chin and eyes shutting, a smirk formed on her face. “By becoming my friend, you practically gave me permission to call you every stupid nickname I can think of. It’s not my fault you have a very short name that’s hard to adapt. Now Nika, that’s a cool nickname in my eyes.”

                         The blonde snorted when he commented on how far he was from a throne and his own kingdom. “Why are you trying princesses though? There must be nice, single queens who wouldn’t be boring and have a nice face.” She imagined he was becoming tired of the little butt speech she would give her friend any time girls were mentioned. Replacing it it with just the word face would probably make her seem more serious about the subject. “In fact, I know there are free queens. Interesting? Maybe. Nice faces? Probably, they’re royals.”

“And I was the one who gave you that 'cool' nickname.” Hans narrowed his eyes and peered down at her, playfully puffing up his cheeks for a moment. He wasn't that insulted, really, he just couldn't have her call him Hansy and embarrass him in public. His first name alone was pretty dull. It was what he would have named a donkey or a peasant farm boy maybe, but not a prince. He had been doomed from the start.

          “Well, the probability that queens are of an age that I find in any way pleasant is very low.” He replied instead of sticking to the nickname topic, rose his hand from where it had been combing through her hair to tug his gloves off and returned it to its original place, bare fingers continuing their job. “There might be one. Soon. In Arendelle. I have been asking to be the one being sent to her coronation, but mother hasn't given me a confirmation yet.” It was in fact a journey he'd look forward to, but he wouldn't let himself get his hopes up before it was clear that he was the one who'd be actually taking it.

When Fixer Uppers Collide

A smug grin appeared on the ice harvesters face. Hans will curse himself one day for what he just said, Kristoff was sure of it. “Oh, really? That’s a funny coincidence …” Kristoff turned around to Hans, his arms tangled in front of his chest as his brown eyes looked into Hans, a smirk on his lips. “We’re actually kind of short with people right now. You know Anna, she gave half my workers free days without even letting me know …”, he said as he shrugged his shoulders.

"Now I ended up working alone tomorrow. You can join me if you want to."

This could be really funny.

At the funny coincidence part, Hans already braced himself for what was to come. No. No, no, he thought, carefully keeping his face flat while he listened. He couldn't be serious. His eyes flickered back and forth between the ice harvesters smirk and his glance and had to realize that yes – yes, he was being very serious.

“Well.” He began, blinking sheepishly, folding his hands in front of his chest.

“...well...” There was no excuse he could muster since he had only just offered his services and everything he'd say would be all too obvious. “...sure! I'd be honored to!”

Honored his ass. He didn't look forward to it in the slightest. And yet, a supposedly bright smile was on his lips as he took a step backwards with a wave. “I'll see you tomorrow, Kristoff!” He turned on his heel and the smile instantly faded. What did he get himself into?

      Rude. But most rich people were. Scratch that, most people were. Herself included. She made minimal efforts at kindness. Though a little amused by his name, Elsa said nothing. It wasn’t like she had any room to poke fun at odd names.

She did follow. If only because she had nothing better to do. But she was quick to make sure that she walked at his side, not behind him. She wasn’t about to be led around. “You were waiting for someone to pick you up? You do know it’s supposed to be the other way around. What, did no one there catch your eye?”

     Or perhaps he’d been too deep in his bored stupor to even think about it. “I suppose as your family is hosting, without being invited to leave it would be rude to do so.”

        His smirk reappeared as soon as Hans recognized that she was walking at his side. Good. At least the woman – ah, what was her name? Elsa. – didn't let herself be left behind all too easily. “Oh, I think you misunderstood me.” He explained, throwing her a side glance.

“I wasn't looking for someone to pick me up for a one night stand. If I was out for meaningless sex, I could point my finger at any lady in the room and it'd probably be a sure thing.” He wasn't truly bragging about how irresistible he was here, even though he pretty much believed that he was pretty irresistible, no.

        His name and the money his family supposedly had made enough of an impression. He smiled, almost sheepishly. “I didn't take you for the type to propose that to me, either, but fine. Your place or mine?”

you’ve gotten into my bloodstream. i can feel you flowing in me.

this is beautiful

She’d watched, surveyed him with great interest to see what effect her words may have on him — but Hans really was good at internalizing what he felt or thought. Much to her disappointment. But as soon as he spoke of what he would need to build the fire, Elsa’s train of thought have shifted—

Both brows arched in genuine curiosity.

         He didn’t know how to build a fire either, did he? That thought alone made her anxious. Would he really be warm enough here? The Queen’s mind immediately went to the worst places. At best he could get sick, at worst he could die.

         ”It doesn’t bother me, no. But you—”

Would he really be alright under a damp jacket? Or was him simply trying to quiet her fears? Elsa didn’t have the slightest clue but she was more than a little surprised when the Prince started right back into the conversation with that jesting tone. Wasn’t this a very serious situation?

                                  And what was that…?

        “Our bedrooms?” That was a successful turn around on his part. She hadn’t anticipated the use of our, even with it noted that there were separate bedrooms the aspect of the house belonging to both of them was a little.. embarrassing. 

                “I — no, I mean there’s.. your bedroom and my bedroom. But they aren’t our bedrooms— well, in that context they are. What I mean to say is that I’ll show you your bedroom, certainly.”

Smooth, Elsa. Very smooth. She was at least able to turn on her heels, movements still graceful despite that fumbling of words as she walked him down the short hall. The rooms were ornate, but the furniture within them was fairly simple. It looked to be a very typical bed aside from it being made of ice.. with a snow mattress. Completely normal.

Ah, finally something that made her stammer a little, even though that much hadn't even been intentional. Apparently the thought of speaking of them as a unit was a little upsetting – or maybe even baffling to her.

        Either way, Hans smile didn't vanish as he followed her, hands clasped behind his back.

To keep them warm, actually, the fabric of his gloves being slightly rubbed together. He'd survive the night. With a cold, probably. He was still putting all of his hopes onto the fact that he'd at least be shielded from the storm outside.

     Inspecting the furniture, he noted that all of it looked very simple. It was a nice thought. A landly house in the woods. Once he was King of Arendelle, he'd order for a similar house to be build at the exact same spot. She'd laugh the sentiment off, probably. Maybe he'd use that fantasy to find into sleep tonight. “I like it.” He said earnestly and moved towards the bed, patting the snow of the mattress with a thoughtful expression.

         “Will that... melt?” He asked and turned towards her again, brows knitted in concern. “That would be wet. And unpleasant.”

     He really wasn't sure how much her magic could do and if it went that far. He'd be freezing either way, but getting himself completely soaked in melted snow, too, was really nothing he looked forward to. He'd rather stay up and pace the room, keeping his muscles moving. Which he should probably do, any ways, tonight wouldn't get him all too much sleep.