The King of Arendelle

Barrierer

When Hans saw the avalanche reaching for him, he wasn't thinking about the safety of his father, his sister, nor any of the men that had come to protect them. Just the chime.

All that mattered was the chime, and that he was the one holding onto it should he make it out alive. Damn that Jack Frost and his wicked sorcery. Everything had been going as planned until he got in the way.

Bringing him along was a mistake, but Hans knew that without him or his lunatic wife, none of them would have been able to reach the Angel.

As he found himself half-buried in snow, his ankle broken and swollen up to the size of a golfball, Hans still wasn't thinking about family or loved ones. Only the Angel and how he'd managed to hold onto the chime in his balled fist. The fact alone it had survived the fall undamaged was enough to distract him from his pain.

Too weak to crawl away from where he'd ended up, Hans laid against the tree and shivered, hoping his strength would return to him or one of his surviving guards would find him. Whether they wanted to follow along with his plan or not, they still served him by oath.

Those damn Arendellians... It was pure lunacy that they'd dare think of letting a mage sit on their throne. Worse still, that they let their only daughter and heir become like it. The world would fall into madness if word got out that those who controlled the elements could rule a kingdom—that's why Hans needed to step into the picture.

Yes, the Angel had been the main reason he'd come to this frozen sprawl, but the Angel was merely an asset to his and his father's greater scheme. With the use of the chime, the Angel would get both Agnarr and Jackson Overland out of the way, leaving Elsa a widow and in need of a new husband to help raise her children.

Hans had suspected she'd be a stubborn thing, so he knew what to do if she refused; use the Angel to threaten her kingdom until she said yes.

Now it appeared both of those plans had failed. Unless she, her father, and her husband had all perished, what was Hans meant to do now? He certainly wasn't going to get down on one knee and ask for Iduna's hand... but who said he had to? She could easily drop the crown in his lap if he showed her what danger her subjects were in, along with her precious grandchildren.

With no daughter or husband left, what else did she have to live for?

Hans knew what he'd do now, it was all fool-proof! He didn't need his ridiculous father or his pugnacious sister. He'd always felt sorry for Anna, the accident child who had no place in the world. He'd even told her that once he was king, he'd ensure that Anna was married into a rich family, but why would he even consider she deserved such a reward?

That being said, Hans couldn't shake his worry over her safety. There was a bizarre bond he could never cut between himself and his twin sister—even when he was joining in on his brother's taunting of her, he still did his best to soften the blows and was the only one to comfort her in secret when their mother died.

Anna wasn't exactly fond of Hans either... it's just that beggars couldn't be choosers. She clung to the only person she could call 'nice to her' their entire childhood. The only genuinely happy memories they had were their birthday parties. Because they were twins, Harald had to put on a show of how much he treasured his only daughter by showering her with as many gifts and as much attention he did Hans for his subjects.

Anna knew it wasn't for real, but that didn't stop her from indulging in the sweets and toys she'd been gifted with. Some years, however, her older brothers had taken some of these toys or stuffed animals and either kept them for themselves or ripped the stuffings out just so she didn't get 'any ideas about what she really was.' For every little laugh or smile, there were a million more tears. So, if anything, Hans pitied his only sister more than he loved her.