Okay, I know how a lot of people absolute flame on Hans for being a complete jerk to Anna and Elsa and everything. But I wanted to give him a backstory. In my mind, Hans was a neglected child who wanted power because that was how he saw the world. He believed that in order to be happy you need power to stand up for yourself. Of course, when you are the neglected youngest brother, you don't exactly get the best advice.

He panted heavily as he weaved in and out of the trees. He could hear his heartbeat race as he ran through the dark forest. He did not care if he got lost. Getting lost means never having to go back. But they were following him, and he did not want them to catch him. Tears and rain meshed together and slowly rolled down his cheek. Just a little longer, he promised himself. Just a little more.

He ran even faster but his coat snagged on a branch. He frantically tugged at his coat.

"Hans!" echoed a voice.

His tears started to roll down even faster as he unbuttoned his coat and abandoned it. He stepped forward only to activate a trap that shot multiple arrows at his shirt sleeves that landed on a nearby tree causing him to be stuck and helpless.

"Hans!" the voice was nearer this time.

Hans held back more tears and let the remaining tears roll down his chin. His mouth trembled and his hands shook.

"Hans!" A guard appeared and smiled with relief at the sight of the prince. "Hans-"

"Where is he?" a sharp voice snapped.

"He's here, trapped against a tree." The guard's smile vanished and he fearfully glanced to another man.

The man appeared in regal clothing. It was a beautiful white suit with many medals and gold trim decorating the coat. He angrily glared at Hans who trembled at the sight of him. "You." He grabbed Hans' shirt and pulled him away from the tree without care. He grabbed his hair and pulled it so Hans' eyes met his. "You will march straight to the castle without a word coming out of that mouth, understand me?" He let go of Hans and he fell to his knees.

Hans gulped and nodded.

"GO!" the man ordered.

Hans scrambled back up and ran to the castle as fast as he could. He could not escape this time. Tears rolled down his cheek again. Not this time.

Once he reached the doors of the castle they were opened up by two guards standing on night duty and a pale woman in a beautiful purple nightgown stood in front of him.

"Hans, are you okay?" she asked as she embraced his shaking body.

"You!" a voice thundered.

The woman let go of Hans as the king entered her sight and Hans backed away from him.

"Please, you can't be so horrible to your own son," she said to him.

"A son of mine could never be so weak and helpless," he glares at the woman. "And you shouldn't even be awake at this hour."

"I was worried."

"About him?" the king thundered. The woman did not falter.

"After all, he is also my son," she answered.

The king turned to Hans. "Go, now."

Hans walked up a nearby staircase and turned right out of the king's and queen's sight. He opened a door leading to an almost empty room and closed it. He sat down in front of the door and looked down at the floor as he was about to let a flood of tears loose.

"Aw, look at poor Hans," a voice said.

Hans looked up and in front of him were twelve boys older than him. His eyes widened in fear of what would happen next.

"You know, Father never loved you. The only reason he went out to get you was because he didn't want you to expose our secret," said another boy.

"But like you're brave enough to do that," another brother said. "But let's make sure." He raised a bottle of a truth serum.

Three other boys held onto Hans as he thrashed about and cried silently. One of the three boys forcefully opened Hans' mouth and the brother holding the serum poured the liquid into Hans' mouth. Hans' mouth closed and he had no choice but to swallow the serum.

The three boys let go of him and stood back.

"Now," another boy said, the oldest, "let's see . . . tell us if you would ever tell anyone our secret- and don't forget to be specific about the secret. We don't want you looking through loopholes."

Hans opened his mouth. "I will never tell anyone . . . that . . ."

"Hurry up, we have to get to our rooms before the sun comes up!" a boy said. He seemed only a little older than Hans.

"I will never tell anyone that . . ." Hans said, "that our . . . father . . . or all of you . . . are . . . of darkness."

"Good. Now tell us why," the eldest ordered.

"Because . . . I'm . . ." Hans gulped, "weak . . . and pathetic."

"Hey, you made him admit it!" the second oldest grinned.

"That's right, you are weak and pathetic. You're also a kid that no one likes," the oldest smirked.

"We should probably move, we don't want anyone knowing we upset the baby," one of them said.

"The queen's baby that is. Only our mother likes you and that's because she is of light and not darkness," the second oldest scoffed.

"How could darkness spread to us twelve and not him? It doesn't make any sense," one said while kicking Hans away from the door.

"What if he gets it later on?" another asked when opening the door.

"Even then he'll be too late, of all thirteen of us we know who is the least powerful by just looking," the oldest moved out of the room and the rest followed.

Hans climbed into the bed and hid under the covers as if it was a barrier between him and the rest of the world. Power, strength, bravery, things he did not have that they did. Things that separate him from the rest of his family. Even his mother had bravery, but not him. But the one thing keeping him from being happy was power. Power that could relieve him of his brothers.

I forgot something, he thought from under the covers. He pushed the blanket away and sat up. He climbed out of bed and tip-toed to the other side of the room. He opened a dumbwaiter and found the crate slowly make its way up to him. In the crate was a small cake and a fork. It was simple with barely any decorations but it was a cake enough to lift his spirits even a little. He picked it up and closed the dumbwaiter. He picked up the fork and cut a piece small enough to fit in his mouth. It was a savory vanilla flavor. He looked down to the cake and read the small lettering.

Happy 13th Birthday! -The chefs

What?! Tortured on your birthday? What gives, jerks? But they're half right and half wrong. He is hated but because he's a cold-hearted jerk. I hope you liked this chapter!