Elsa stands haloed in the glare of summer sun luminously behind her. She's all sorts of soft edges in the too-bright light, eyes a vibrant blue and cheeks flushed with warmth. Resplendent with a backdrop of a thawed Arendelle.

The sight makes Hans' heart flutter traitorously when she meets his gaze. There is uncertainty in it. Hans frowns slightly.

"What now?" Elsa says under her breath.

"If I'm not mistaken," Hans says to Elsa, mouth curling with a smile like a sleepy tiger showing his teeth. He can sense her worry. The rush of confidence she found earlier has been lost, or perhaps it was the thrill of hope that's gone. So he gives her something to distract, "This is the part where we live happily ever after, my heart."

Hans watches as Elsa's eyes shift with exasperation and guilt in equal measure over the crowded square, catching on her sister and the brute with a reindeer along the way. And the bizarre talking snowman with his own personal flurry.

Hans makes note to talk later with Elsa about having better restraint on her whims to create living snow creatures. He doesn't wish to be father to such things.

She wears a sad twist of lips, "We're still not quite there. I have much more to restore than simply the summer."

Hans was hoping for at least a smile, like the last time he uttered his absurd fairy story ending to her. Although she's absolutely right. There is so much more to be done.

"Ah. Well then." Hans pulls closer, still a respectable distance but he can't resist her gravity, and so he whispers what looks like advice from an advisor but is all smoke and caramel, into Elsa's ear, "Now it is time for fealty and destiny, and to make use of spies and secrets. Spin what has happened into something like truth."

Elsa sighs something Hans can't quite make out. It's less than thrilled. Something about his evident proclivity for mendacity.

"Come now. You'll make an excellent player, like you were born to it. Just follow my lead."

This is the best part of politics, the intrigues needed to carefully craft the proper image of a ruler, Hans thinks. Hold back the controversial and offer up as truth the pleasant twist of it. Hans suspects Elsa has spent a life isolated, simply concealing ALL of herself, thus at immense disadvantage when it comes to such things.

He has not.

Elsa's kingdom is now thawed and her people left standing in the blissful warmth of summer sun wondering, what now? (Same thing Elsa is wondering.) They stand gathered on the high point of square, where Elsa could see Arendelle 'properly' from the village to the mountains, watching as her magic lifted the ice and snow to dissolve back to where ever it is it comes from. The entire scene was enchanting.

"My own people look at me as if trying to make out if or if not I am the evil queen toying with them." Elsa vents, "You know. Before they meet their ultimate demise."

Hans is willing to concede that. The locals do look a bit apprehensive. But he was here, boots-on-ground if you will, during the entire disaster. At their side. He kept them safe, ensured their needs were met - even the lowest of them, the poorest. He was the face of the Crown to all, not just the dignitaries.

He was the hero who saved Arendelle from destruction.

So he stands by Elsa now, prompting her to think strategically, "So how do you change that perception?"

Elsa clearly is unsure. She looks a breath away from simply yelling I'm terribly sorry at the gathered crowd and turning tail to run and seclude herself. The longer she ponders her response, the nearer to the point of fretful tears she gets.

Hans can't have that. She can't have that. (Later he will realize it will never again be 'he', but only ever 'she', and if very, very lucky, 'they'.)

"Nothing was damaged. Even the delicate flora appear just as it should." Elsa finally manages to say, gesturing towards a window box filled with bulb flowers bright and in bloom, vibrant purples and reds and strangely free from frostbite. Like nothing ever happened.

Very curious.

"There was no harm done, but I can't just tell everyone the bloody truth - think of the scandal. Okay, so the secret of my magic is out, but how volatile will I appear? Honestly. The princess' refused affianced flung himself into the arms of that ice-witch-of-a-queen and now all is well? Ridiculous! I'm unable to mend this." Elsa is so serious, too.

"Untrue." Hans says, trying not to smile too brightly at the flung himself remark. Also, Elsa obstinately rejecting the idea that it isn't all for not is very amusing. This is absolutely salvageable.

Elsa glares at him like he's being daft, on purpose.

"Just think what is needed now, which buys time for later."

Elsa simply stares at him.

"May I?" Hans asks.

To his surprise Elsa nods, albeit confused.

Hans would kiss her now for ignoring her mistrust and following his led if it wouldn't make everything so much worse. So instead his royal mask slips into place, something calm and kind and fixed firmly in a breath. Hans is pleased it triggers Elsa's to fall right into place, faint pull of a pleased smile, studying him.

Hans turns to the people gathered, offering a respectful nod to the councilmen and dignitaries watching from a balcony above who supported him as the Regent.

With an open hand and towards Elsa he presents, "Her eminence, Queen Elsa, the Snow Queen of Arendelle." Hans takes two steps forward like an actor into the spotlight, eyes smoothly scanning the crowd of people who seem to hang in his every word as hushed awe falls over them. He is sincere with every word, "Protector. Sovereign guardian. Anointed by the hand of God. "

Hans turns in step, pivoting to face Elsa, "My tongue cannot worthily praise you. I say: all hail, Queen Elsa of Arendelle!"

Sweeping a leg back and coming to one knee, head bowed in reference, Hans waits long moments for the roaring cheers to quiet enough for him to be heard once more.

As the crowd quiets he declares, "My Queen, it is you alone who is exalted."

It stirs the hearts and voices once more, people erupting again, "Long live the Queen!"

The outcry of praises and celebrations from those gathered is deafening. Hans smiles as he lifts his chin, catches sight of Anna knelt before Elsa. The brute, who Hans would bet life on is Anna's true soulmate, is on the fringe of the crowd now and knelt in loyalty. Hans offers a little prayer for how much neater that will make everything if he is right.

Elsa does beautifully - plays her part with a demure smile and proudly raised chin. She ducks it humbly before raising a hand to quiet the crowd, offering apology for the sudden winter and reassurance no harm was meant, and that she shall defend Arendelle as her protector until her last breath. Her speech is simple, it cuts across the people as it needs to. Plainly. Perfectly.

The forgiveness and hope that fills the air is breathtaking.

Anna beams a proud grin at her sister. Anna is such a representative of her people, Hans muses. So quick to forgive and see the potential the future holds.

"Prince Hans." Elsa motions to Hans, cueing all to rise. Anna manages not to scowl or narrow her eyes.

"Arendelle is eternally indebted to you for your exceptional leadership and overwhelming compassion during these past days. Without your wisdom and calm head, I fear Arendelle would not be as it is today. I am eternally grateful, and I humbly thank you for your service. Arendelle looks forward to what the future may hold for her, built from such a foundation and, if amenable, your continued support."

And like that, Elsa publicly opens the door to something more for Hans. Not a mention of his failed engagement, which truthfully only a few aristocracy may even know of - of his (supposed) ruse to claim power which was declared by the Duke of Weselton. Just simple acknowledgement of the beneficence of his actions and invitation to stay in Arendelle as an advisor.

He wonders if Elsa realizes entirely how her proclamation looks. It looks like a veiled invitation to court her. The next steps in his intrigues begin to sketch vaguely out in his head because he had fleetingly wondered if he was to be doomed to lurk in a most unprincely manner about the Arendelle castle for all eternity, attempting to endear himself to others enough to stay near Elsa. This solves that little dilemma.

"'T'was an honor, my Queen. Arendelle holds a very special place in my heart. She will always be dear to me and I shall strive to bring honor to her." Hans delights in the blush of pink which stains Elsa's cheeks with his words. He bows deeply, and the people erupt further in celebration.

OoooOoooOoooO

Elsa pauses as they get back to the steps of the castle, then says quietly to Hans like solving a complex equation for her mathematics tutor, "The people need to see there is beauty in my magic. See the fun. I need something to distract from the fact I am a wielder of horrific icy disasters."

Anna, who has been chattering on with excitement beside Elsa the entire walk back, arms linked says, "What about skating in the courtyard of the castle? You could turn it into an iced rink and let everyone enjoy a winter activity when it's warm? Like a party!"

Hans is about to say, well, something about how ridiculous that is when Elsa smiles enthusiastically, "I've always wanted to do that."

He snaps it shut.

It would be useful to have the people see the frivolity Elsa is capable of - ice skating is carefree and idle. Except there is too much to be done, now, for Hans to appropriately enjoy such an activity. "With Her Majesty's permission, I would like I draft the decree dismissing the Duke of Weselton from Arendelle, and see to it he is escorted back to his ship?"

The lightness in Elsa's eyes fades some, "You don't care to skate?"

"On the contrary, I very much do." Hans reassures, "I am quite adept at it. It is just that in light of recent events I would recommend dispatching the entire Weselton delegation without delay. Before more damage is done by the man."

Elsa looks torn. He sees the sharp, cold mind of an exacting ruler flash in her eyes. Good girl, Hans thinks.

So Hans adds, because it is what she needs, "Take a moment to be playful. Such moments allow you to endear yourself to your people, which at present is far more valuable and cannot be delegated. Handling Weselton can be."

"Hm," Elsa sucks at her cheek with breath held, pondering. With a press of shoulders back she says to the head steward, "Take Prince Hans to the Minister of Trade. He has authority as my agent to deal with relations with that awful duke's dutchy."

Elsa gives Hans a deliciously fierce look, "Cut off trade. Arendelle will henceforth and forever no longer do business of any sort with Weaseltown."

"Weselton," Hans corrects. "It's pronounced Weselton."

"Oh?" Elsa hums vaguely, turning en point with a knowing smile to once again link arms with Anna, "I can't be bothered to learn it now. I have more pressing matters to attend to."

Hans can't agree more. He makes note to add insult to injury and ensure everyone mispronounces the duke's name.

.

.

.

It is later, after dispatching the little prick of a man and his entourage from Arendelle. Hans is watching Elsa from afar and considers everything that's occurred. Considers how closely his plot to seduce the Queen of Arendelle aligned with his fate - and how he would gladly have nothing to do ruling if it meant he could simply breath her air. He's fairly certain his father will not allow him to remain in Arendelle, stay and play at advisor without incentive and benefit of the Southern Isles, and he'll be sailing back home shortly as things fall into place.

Hans stands before a large window in the queen's study where he has full advantage of the courtyard. It's cobblestones are neatly coated with thick layers of the smoothest ice he's ever seen, water from the fountains frozen as if paused dancing in midair by an artist. Laughter from young and old lifts into the air, pleasant and idle on the warm breeze. It's evening, and the crowds haven't thinned in the slightest, rather grown in numbers. The kitchens have been busy preparing plates of treats sweet and savory to pass, and casks of ale have been tapped. Hot chocolate and krumkake are offered to the children (and Anna).

So this is what a party looks like, genuinely, without the pomp and circumstance.

It's a moment in time Hans commits to memory because in the center of all this gayety is a breathtakingly beautiful young woman who's been destined to be his since before she was even a thought in her parent's mind or mother's womb, and she's so genuinely happy her cheeks must ache by now. How they arrived at this moment in time is quite remarkable.

Hans frowns, because there is so much to do before they get to live happily ever after - he's not yet mention to Elsa, but knowledge that they are soulmates should probably be hidden away. Mistrust of magic being what it is, it pains Hans to consider that a future union (and there will be) may possibly be criticized for being unnatural. Anna and Kristoff will have to disclose their fate - there is no other means to successfully explain or justify a possible union for them. That is, later.

That is a problem for later.

OoooOoooOoooO

It takes the better part of a year for a courtship and official engagement to publicly begin, and only after carefully crafted treaties are exhaustingly negotiated. Tensions run high, unconfirmed reports of the Southern Isles insisting upon contingency to be written-in absolving the kingdom of penalty when a soulmate presents to Prince Hans following the union (Hans' is known to be the only prince in the gaggle of Southern Isles royalty to bear a soul mark). Arendelle refuses to allow it. That derails talks entirely for a full fortnight until the Southern Isles presses forward, instead demands for an abridged courtship.

Talk is the Queen of Arendelle giggled gleefully at that.

In between it all are prolifically written letters and favors exchanged almost daily between the Queen and the Prince, most through well bought and quite unofficial means, as to avoid the eyes of the Crown of the Southern Isles. Or so talk goes.

It was a friendship, a love, a thrilling conspiracy that was impressive to behold, or so it was said, regarding the romance of the Snow Queen of Arendelle and the youngest Prince of the Southern Isles.

It is late spring and at dusk when Hans disembarks his ship and steps foot on Arendelle soil for the first time in months and finds his Queen standing with poorly concealed excitement in her face. The evening air falls still around them, as does the world for a moment. Like time paused.

Hans is at a loss of words, mind drawn blank and replaced with a madness to take Elsa into his arms and never let go.

Before Hans can say anything proper, Elsa has stopped before him and pressed her palm to where his mark it. She says, and playing at coy, "I believe this is part where we live happily ever after, my heart."

And they do.

After all, it's true love.

A/N: Mahalo for reading, following, favoriting and reviewing this one-shot which demanded to grow into it's own fic. :)

Banana-Rama