Smut alert. End of Chapter.

Hans was rather pleased with himself if he were being quite honest. He'd already secured an engagement to the Queen of Arendelle less than half a day after arriving, which was quite remarkable really, when one thought about it. Of course, he had considered pursuing the younger sister, who was clearly the more vulnerable of the two. Then again, in that case, he would have had to arrange an accident for the current queen, which was ultimately a messy business and quite frankly, too much of a hassle. He'd rather not become a murderer in his quest for power, though he had not been opposed to it in the event that Queen Elsa resist him.

It was nothing personal, of course; certainly the queen and her sister were lovely, no doubt. However, business was business, and Hans wasn't letting anything stand between him and a crown. No longer would he be the forgotten thirteenth son; the twelfth spare. No longer could his brothers shrug their youngest sibling off as mere surplus. He was to be King of Arendelle; married to the most eligible woman in five kingdoms. Not only that, but Elsa was wildly beautiful and it had become clear after just a few heady moments in her parlor that they would suit in bed. She was an innocent, undoubtedly, but he would guide her.

He only wished he could see his brothers' faces when they learned of his marriage.

It had been enough of a trial convincing his brother the King to send Hans to Arendelle to represent the Southern Isles at the coronation of the young queen, but in the end, Hans had been rewarded by promising his brother that he would secure an alliance with Arendelle. Henrik had been skeptical as their father had never gotten on well with the queen's late father, King Agdar, but the Southern Isles was in dire need of ice and lumber; both of which Arendelle had in abundance.

The wedding was set for the following morning after a special dispensation from the clergy had been obtained, and would be a private affair, which was better really if Hans were being honest. Elsa had insisted on it, not being one for excess. It was amazing to him that this woman had been born to be queen and seemed to be unspoiled, perhaps even somewhat neglected, that much had been evident in her clear urgency for his affections, almost as if she'd been locked in a tower her entire life like her cousin, the newly wed Princess of Corona had.

Upon some light research, Hans had learned that their family had been shrouded in mystery for some time. There was even talk that the former Queen of Arendelle's mother had been cast under a sleeping curse years earlier. Some idle gossip among kingdoms spoke of a princess born with magical hair; others claimed that a queen had made a deal with a sorceress while she'd been with child. It was all quite ridiculous really, though Hans couldn't deny the mystery surrounding Arendelle hadn't exactly done the kingdom any favors.

"Your Highness," the manservant named Kai came into the room Hans had been given, carrying a bottle of amber liquid, "the brandy you requested."

"Thank you," Hans nodded, striding toward him gratefully and taking the bottle. Thoughtfully, he added, "How is the queen?"

The man blinked for a moment, giving the prince an assessing look. It was clear from his expression that the kindly butler had a very paternal concern for both the queen and her younger sister. "She is resting now," Kai explained, "she is somewhat distressed as her sister refuses to speak to her." He paused for a moment. "Apparently, the princess was under the impression that you had, er…affections for her."

Hans kept his expression cool, pouring himself a drink and offering Kai a glass, which he politely declined. Furrowing his brows, Hans shook his head, attempting regretful. "The poor child," he murmured, staring into the amber liquid, "I do hope she can forgive me, though I daresay I did nothing to indicate that I was interested in her."

"You must understand," Kai sighed, "Both girls have lived in isolation for most of their lives. Princess Anna is a vivacious lovely young woman, yes, but she is exceedingly naïve because she has been so sheltered. She knows nothing of the world and its cruelties."

"But why?" Hans pressed, intrigued. "Why were they kept behind the gates? Surely the gates weren't always closed." He took a sip of his brandy, savoring the sweetness of the drink.

Kai faltered, looking conflicted. "My lord, it is not for me to say, and quite frankly, I know little more than you do about the reasoning behind it. My understanding was that King Agdar, Heaven rest his soul, had reason to believe that the princesses would be safer behind closed gates, and he was my master; I trusted his judgment implicitly and I shall remain loyal to his daughter in her reign."

Hans had to appreciate his allegiance, though he hoped that Kai wouldn't prove to complicate things for him in the future, when he became King. The last thing he needed was somebody interfering in his marriage and putting ideas into Elsa's head, though he suspected the man wasn't telling the full truth. Secrets seemed to linger in the air of this kingdom, floating between people like ghosts.

"Your Highness, please let me know if you need anything. The wedding is set for ten in the morning," he explained, "As you well know, Prince Hans, the marriage must be registered before noon with the special license from the archbishop."

"Of course," Hans nodded amiably, taking another swill of his beverage, "the sooner the better, no doubt."

"Following the ceremony, we will have a breakfast reception in the ballroom," he continued. "I'm sure you would like to send word to your family so that they can make arrangements to attend your coronation in the coming months." The mere thought sent a thrill of excitement through Hans' body, though he made no indication of that outwardly.

"Thank you," he assented, giving the man a nod and watching him leave the room. He looked into the mirror, taking in his reflection. He had discarded his jacket and sash, moving about in his shirt sleeves and vest, untied cravat hanging loosely around his neck. A slow smile of triumph spread over his face. This was the last outfit he would ever wear as a prince.

The next time he saw himself, he would be King.

Anna laid awake, staring at the canopy of her bed and fighting back tears. How ironic that she should be the one locked in her bedroom while her sister knocked for once. She knew that Elsa couldn't have possibly known about her meeting with Prince Hans earlier that day, but it didn't make the sting of resentment hurt any less. She'd been so sure they'd had a connection on the docks, when they'd…when she'd…

When what, Anna? When you ungracefully fell onto him?

Perhaps her longing for a life outside of the closed gates that had been her prison had clouded her judgment. Of course Hans had been interested in Elsa; who wouldn't be? Elsa was tall, regal, beautiful...graceful; all of the things she wasn't. Who would ever notice the spare when her lovely sister was there? And Elsa deserved happiness just as much as she did, perhaps even more. While Anna had been close with her parents, spending long evenings sitting with her mother and letting the queen brush her hair, Elsa had been shut in her room, hiding away from the rest of the world. It made no sense. One day, they'd been playing in the snow together and the next - Elsa had decided that she no longer wanted to see her sister.

Truthfully, Anna hadn't known how to react upon entering the parlor and seeing her sister clinging to Prince Hans. It had felt like a slight blow to the chest when he'd announced their engagement. Her sister was getting married and Anna hadn't even been included in the decision. Not that she expected to be around for everything, but even if Elsa was marrying a man Anna had taken a fancy to, it still stung that she knew absolutely nothing about the only family she had left. She felt unnecessary.

She was a fool.

Sitting up in the bed, Anna crept to the door and opened it a crack. Elsa was gone; obviously she'd given up trying to elicit a response from the sister she'd ignored for over a decade. Honestly, Anna had been hoping that Elsa would wait for her as she'd waited in the past. The truth sent a jolt of pain into her heart.

Elsa didn't need her.

"You're almost exactly of a size with your mother, my lady," Gerda said approvingly, settling the skirts of the wedding gown over Elsa's petticoats as she stood in the middle of her childhood bedroom. "She would have loved seeing you in this dress."

Elsa stared at her reflection, feeling like a fraud. She was nearly the exact image of her mother, save for her pale blonde hair, which was quite a farce considering she and her mother had barely spoken before her death. She'd been close with her father, of course, but Elsa had always suspected that her mother was slightly afraid of her powerful daughter. She knew that Idun had loved her, of course, in her own way, but they had never shared a particularly warm relationship. Still, it was strangely comforting to be wearing the dress her mother had wed her father in on her own wedding day, though Elsa couldn't help wishing it were under better circumstances. Father would have been disappointed in her. Because of her reckless behavior, she would now share the throne of Arendelle with a complete stranger.

Then there was the matter of consummation. Hans knew nothing of her affliction. Elsa knew very little about the marriage bed, that was true, but she did know that one did not wear gloves while consummating one's marriage. She'd barely made it through the coronation ceremony without frosting the entire room over.

It's only for today…

How naïve she'd been yesterday, thinking that one night was all she would have to endure. Sooner or later, her new husband was going to learn that his wife had a secret. Sooner or later, she wouldn't be able to hide anymore. The gates could only conceal her power for so long. She could only hope it wouldn't be today.

Her hair was brushed and pinned up into a simple chignon at the nape of her neck, with the front braided and woven into the coiffure. The veil was draped elegantly over her hair and anchored with her mother's crown, which was adorned with pearls. A matching necklace and earrings made her look every inch the queen, though she still felt like a silly little girl playing dress up.

"Gerda," she said tiredly, splaying her hands over the front of her dress, "Where is my sister?"

"Still abed," the maid told her sympathetically, "she won't answer the door. Shall I have her fetched?"

Elsa sighed, shaking her head. "No, I think it best to leave her be. She's clearly angry with me."

"But, my lady…it's your wedding day," Gerda pointed out.

"Yes," Elsa agreed, "and I've spent a lifetime pushing my sister away from me. Nothing to be done about it now."

"There's still time, my lady," the woman insisted gently, "I'm sure she would understand why—"

"No," Elsa snapped, sounding far terser than she'd meant to. "Anna mustn't know. No one can ever know."

"Forgive me, my lady," Gerda replied with a small curtsey. The subject was dropped as they left the room, making their way out into the hall and down toward the chapel in the castle. Elsa paused outside of Anna's bedroom, lingering outside her closed door. Swallowing her pride, she rapped softly on the door.

"Anna? I know you're in there, and I know you're angry with me. I don't blame you…" She blinked against burning moisture in her eyes. "But, I just…I want you to know I'm sorry. For everything. I hope you'll come to the wedding." She stepped back, turning toward the staircase that would take her to her future.

Despite the short notice, the chapel was surprisingly full with curious diplomats and other lords and ladies from the kingdom. Notably absent was the Duke of Weselton, who had left port early in the morning. If her coronation had been daunting, her wedding was even more formidable. With no father to walk her down the aisle, Elsa would have to make the long journey to the altar alone without the comfort of her gloves to conceal her. She was given a small bouquet to hold made of crocus flowers, the symbol of Arendelle. Her cousin stood at the front with her husband, smiling at her. How Elsa envied them, being so blissfully unaware of the unease she was feeling. She wondered if they suspected that this was all a sham.

For his part, her incipient husband looked every inch the future King, dressed in a white suit with fine gold embroidery. A magenta sash was draped across the light gold vest he wore beneath his coat. His suit coat was adorned with medals, no doubt symbols of his service in the navy. Draped over his shoulders was a gleaming golden cape adorned with white ermine fur and atop his auburn head sat the very same crown her father had worn for his wedding nearly twenty-three years earlier. Elsa's breath caught in her throat, because he was beautiful in a terrifying way. Her hands tightened on her bouquet, feeling the familiar threat of ice creeping along the stems.

Don't feel…don't feel…

To her relief, it receded as she approached the altar, keeping her eyes fixed forward, unable to look him in the eyes. He offered his hand to her, and she couldn't help noticing it was bare. To his right stood the ring bearer, a portly bald man of short stature that Elsa recognized as one of the servants. Glancing around, she bit her lower lip in disappointment as she realized Anna had not come.

"We are gathered here today," the archbishop spoke, "to unite Her Royal Majesty Queen Elisabeth Maria Louisa of Arendelle in Holy Matrimony to His Royal Highness Prince Hans Wilhelm Alexander of the Southern Isles. If any should object to this union, may he speak now or forever hold their peace." Elsa held her breath, waiting for someone to interject, but no protest came. The ceremony continued, and less than an hour later, Elsa was wearing a wedding ring on her left hand.

It was quite convenient actually, because as soon as the ceremony had begun, a distant numbness had settled over her, as if she were watching herself marry Prince Hans while floating above her own body. "I now pronounce you man and wife," the archbishop announced, nodding to Hans. "You may kiss the bride." Hans placed a dutiful peck against her lips, placing her hand atop his as they turned to the small applauding congregation. Elsa met her cousin's smiling green eyes and swallowed the sudden lump in her throat. What should have been the happiest day of her life was nothing but a cruel joke. They were family in the loosest sense of the word; Elsa could count on one hand the number of sentences they'd spoken to each other. Anna was the outgoing one…and she wasn't present.

The day passed in a blur of well wishes, paperwork and food that Elsa didn't eat. She didn't want to do anything to jeopardize her shaky resolve not to freeze over the entire ballroom before the end of the day. The guests retreated to their respective rooms, leaving Hans and Elsa to return to what would become their quarters. Her things would soon be moved into the room that had once belonged to her parents, and Hans would occupy the adjoined bedroom, though when they shared a bed, it would be in his room.

Elsa was pulled away from Hans, ushered into her bedroom, where her hair was unpinned and brushed out, laying in fine pale blonde waves nearly to her waist. She was dressed in a nightgown, though it was hardly the same type of nightgown she usually wore made of gossamer satin and lace and decorated with bows. It flowed around her body like an angel's wings. It should have made her feel romantic and beautiful, but all she felt was a strange melancholy, as if her life was ending. The adjoining door to her husband's room was opened and she was shown inside. Thankfully, when she entered, the servants and attendants exited, leaving her alone with the stranger to whom she was wed.

Hans stood beside the fireplace, wearing a fine silk blue robe that was hanging open, revealing the sturdy expanse of his broad chest. A tantalizing dusting of hair slightly darker than the hair on his head covered the skin. The flames once again gave him that ethereal glow that had captivated her so the night before. His eyes raked over her form, darkening with lust at the sight of her body silhouetted through the thin material of her peignoir. It was strange seeing him this way, dressed in only a silk robe when just minutes before they'd both worn several layers of clothing. The thought of him seeing her laid completely bare made her palms go cold. She quickly moved to the small table beside the fire and poured herself a glass of wine, enjoying the warm sensation it left as she drank it. A few sips did the trick, taking the edge off of her.

"Are you afraid?" He asked, crossing to her.

"No," she murmured, lying. His green eyes filled with wicked amusement, hands settling at her waist and drawing her closer to him. She kept her hands balled into fists between them just in case she had an outburst.

"I know this can't be how you imagined your wedding night, Elsa," he told her, toying with a long, silken lock of white blonde hair. "You should wear your hear down more."

"It's not proper…" she returned weakly, making him smirk.

"My proper little wife," he chuckled, swiftly untying the bodice of her nightgown and pushing it apart, letting it slide silkily down her body into a heap at her feet, leaving her bared to his roving eyes. "My queen…" he whispered as his thumb grazed over the pink bud of her nipple, making it go taut under his touch. A noise of approval left his throat as he bent to brush his lips over hers before urging her down onto her back against the crisp linens of his bed. Mortified that she was completely naked before him, she made a modest attempt to cover herself.

"Don't," he told her, untying the sash of his robe and pulling it off, casting it aside as he crawled onto the bed beside her with feline grace. Her eyes dropped to the protruding appendage between his legs and widened. Elsa had never seen a man without clothes before, not even a picture and it was somewhat intimidating trying to gasp that what he had would somehow fit into what she had. It didn't really seem possible.

Hans lay beside her, letting his hand trail over the lush curve of her hip and up to the swell of her breast. Elsa blinked up at him, unsure of what to do. "Touch me," he beckoned, taking her hand and carefully pulling her fingers apart out of the fist before placing it against his chest, over his heart. Elsa held her breath, worried that she might accidentally freeze him, but to her surprise nothing happened. She sagged in relief as he sank down to her, taking her mouth in a searing kiss like the ones that had gotten them into this mess in the first place. He coaxed her lips apart, tasting her mouth with inquisitive flicks of his tongue. She mewled involuntarily against him, sliding her hand up into the thick red hair on his head. It was just as lovely as she'd imagined. He growled in approval, moving over her and pulling away from her lips, making his way along her jaw with lusty kisses, devouring every inch he could touch his lips to as he moved down her pale neck before turning his affections on her breasts.

He circled one hardened bud with his tongue, nipping lightly at it with his teeth and causing Elsa to hiss at the touch. It was the oddest sensation, both painful and delicious at once. He repeated the gesture with the other, sliding his lips down the flat expanse of her middle, swirling his tongue around the delicate navel. She realized he was lowering himself to the mound of dark blonde curls between her legs and tried to object, mortified as she attempted to cover herself. Green eyes met hers filled with devilish promise.

"You can't hide from me, sweet," he told her hoarsely, pushing her hands away and spreading her open with his fingertips, licking his lips salaciously. It sent a dark thrill throughout her body, to her embarrassment. She watched, half fascinated as he lowered his face against her body, keeping his eyes locked on hers as he deliberately licked something she'd never realized was there and arched almost completely off the bed. He chuckled against her, the hum of his voice sending divine sparks of ecstasy through her body, causing her to cry out.

Involuntarily, her hands twined into the thickness of his hair, holding him in place as he laved greedily from her body, watching her closely and holding her hips in his hands. To her astonishment, he easily slid one finger inside of her while he continued his ministrations of her tender flesh, eliciting a sob from her that could have easily been heard from anywhere in this wing of the castle. Another finger joined the first as his lips clamped over the swollen crescent and began to suck. The breath left her body completely, leaving her gasping and wrought with tension, covering her pale body in a layer of sweat. The world seemed to collapse around her, filling her vision with flashing light as she rode the spasms of her release under his relentless torture.

He finally pulled back when the last tremor had subsided and rose over her, carefully pushing her legs apart, brushing his lips reverently against the sensitive skin on her calf as he lowered his hips to hers, and positioning himself at her entrance. "Forgive me for this," he told her, groaning as he began to intrude her resisting virginal flesh agonizingly slowly. Every part of her wanted to push him away as it began to sting, causing a deep pressure within her body, but she knew enough to know to stay still while he did what must be done. She let out a sharp cry of pain as he broke through the final layer and went still, waiting for her to encourage him to move. He took her lips selfishly, nibbling her lower lip and rekindling that fire in her belly as he slid his hand between them, using the pad of his thumb to caress her again. Her hips moved against him of their own accord, struggling to get closer to him as she pleaded with him to give her more.

Hans obliged, driving into her body with a measured rhythm, ravishing her mouth with his own roving lips as if he couldn't get enough of her. He kissed her like a starving man, as if he would never kiss her again in his life. Elsa found she was meeting his thrusts, clinging to him and whispering words of encouragement into his ear, holding his body against hers with her legs clasped tightly around his lean waist. Relief washed over her in waves with her climax just before he pushed into her one last time, his grip on her tightening as he buried his face into the hollow of her throat, moaning and holding still for what seemed like ages as his continued to spill into her.

He finally looked up at her, holding her eyes in his intense green gaze. Gone was the strange, shrewd look she'd seen before and was replaced with something new; something that looked to Elsa like alarm. He kissed her deeply and hungrily, holding her face in his hand and remaining buried within her. "Good God," he gasped, shaking his head.

They fell asleep that way, with his head resting against her chest, over the erratic beat of her heart. Elsa slept contentedly, forgetting her troubles temporarily as she slipped into a dreamless slumber, surrounded by warmth and the soothing scent of citrus.

It wasn't until just past dawn that they were woken by a sharp, apologetic rap at the door. Elsa disentangled herself from Hans' lanky form and pulled on her night dress, padding quietly to the door so as not to wake him. It was Kai.

"Apologies, my lady," he told her, averting his eyes away from her suggestive bridal negligee. "But the princess is missing from her bedroom. Gerda went in to draw her bath this morning and found the window hanging open and this note on her bed." Bleary eyed and confused, Elsa took the parchment, holding it in her trembling hand as she read.

Elsa,

I'm not angry with you, but I had to leave.

I can't live this way anymore.

I wish things were different.

-Anna