Coronation Night in Arendelle (Anna x Hans)

Judgment

No matter how many times Hans glanced at Anna, she would not return his gaze. In fact, she stood silently, surrounded by cloaked guards, with her eyes fixed on her feet. Elsa loomed over the podium, reciting something. It was most likely a proclamation that upon conviction, he would be sent back to the Southern Isles. 

"Is there anything you'd like to add, Prince Hans?" All eyes swiveled to him. He shifted uncomfortably, and began to fiddle with the cuffs of his sleeves. 

"It was all an accident, Queen Elsa. I didn't push her in, or anything like that," Hans paused to exhale his annoyance. "I shouldn't have rejected her so suddenly, but the result was not my fault." 

"Of course it wasn't." She crossed her arms and cocked her head to the side, studying him. By the look of it, she wasn't at all convinced. She gestured to Hans, and, without warning, two guards grabbed him by the arms. "Take him to the dungeon. I'll decide what to do with him then." Hans' last impression of the room was Elsa turning her back, and strutting out of the hall. Anna's eyes wandered up to his, and he was able to mouth the word "please" before the doors slammed shut.

"You'll have to win her back, or she won't attest to your story," One of the guards advised. 

Before long, Hans was thrown into a funereal cell. The subsequent click of the door being locked should have been lost in the massive space, but to Hans it was deafening. He pressed his body to the bars, and reached out through the gaps. "Wait! May you request for the princess, please?"

"I can't promise anything." In seconds, the guard disappeared into the stairwell.

Hans slumped where he stood, and waited for Anna. An eternity was passing by, and all he could do was wait. For the first hour, he peered through the adjacent window, and eyed the changing light. For the second, he paced around the cell, wondering if the princess would make an appearance at all. For the third, up until the point when Anna burst through the dungeon doors, Hans began to practice his coming speech.

She rushed in, and intertwined her fingers in his. Hans expected to see a smug look upon the princess' face, but her eyes were filled with tears.

"I've been so selfish Hans, so selfish." She glanced at the jail guard, but the man seemed to be battling a lack of sleep. His helmet cast the entirety of his face in shadow. When her eyes returned to his, her voice was much softer. "I thought if you were deported, back to the Southern Isles, we could be together."

Hans sighed, and a spark of annoyance simmered in his chest. How childish she was, to risk their reputations, their titles, their lives, over love. She must have planned the "drowning", and the succeeding accusation. It was almost as if she was coercing him, and for a moment he felt deceived.

"I know what you must be thinking," Anna swallowed nervousness, and let her hands fall to her lap. "But we don't have much time." Her hand flew to the keyhole, and the door unlocked with a quiet click.

One might assume the room to be silent, once its only prisoners had fled. But the guard, who had not spoken a word during Anna's visitation, lifted her hard hat and tossed it to the side. Beneath it was the face of a beautiful woman, with eyes like piercing glaciers, and hair that showered down her shoulder in a braid. The face of the Queen.