Author's Note: Thanks for all the kind comments and thoughtful observations. Glad the reunion between Hans and Elsa had a nice twist on what some of you were expecting. Consider this chapter a continuation of the last one; my apologies again for the later-than-normal delivery.
As always, you'll find some excellent fanart for this fic on my tumblr, calenheniel.tumblr.com, under the tag #WintersEndFrozen.
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Elsa lost track of time as she stood on the balcony outside of the ballroom, staring out at the wide expanse of the capitol from her vantage point up on the hill where the palace was so prominently perched.
It's funny how some distance makes everything seem . . . small.
The castle in Arendelle was so close to the surrounding town—just a bridge separating her from them—that standing there, so high above the public of the Southern Isles, made her feel uneasy by comparison.
(Made her feel as if she should think that she were somehow better than them.)
And I'm not—I'm not at all.
And that, naturally, made her think of him—of how he had stood there, absurdly dressed in that servant's uniform, staring at her so boldly from across the room, and of how perverse it was that he didn't seem sorry in the slightest for what he'd done, not even after a whole year spent, supposedly, in hard labour—and her entire body stiffened visibly as she unwittingly coated the balcony railing in a layer of frost.
Upon noticing this, however, she sucked in a deep breath, and then exhaled; as she did, the frost faded away again, leaving the stone railing just as dry as before (but perhaps slightly colder).
She couldn't afford to upset anyone at court with her powers, be it through merely mentioning them or, heaven forbid, using them—nor did she really want to use them if she could help it, since she had already attracted enough attention as it was.
Luckily, it was just her there at the moment, late in the evening. Many of the guests, she guessed, had already left after having their fill of wine, and food, and drama; and besides, most of them had had the sense to leave her alone after her little "reunion" with the traitor prince (or at least were dissuaded from following her outside with one or two harsh looks from Finn and Erik).
It was slightly absurd, she supposed, that the encounter between them had been as short as it was, considering the severity of his crimes and the confrontation she'd been expecting (which, admittedly, had been far more dramatic and prolonged in her imagination). But, seeing as she had been so caught off-guard by the way in which they were "reintroduced," she wouldn't have been able to stand the sight of him for much longer than she already had by the time she walked out.
She was still too confused, after all, by everything that had happened—and, more than that, irritated with the apparent mastermind behind the evening's "entertainment."
Therese . . . what were you thinking?
The Queen had bestowed a peculiarly admiring gaze upon Elsa as the young woman had turned her back on the "visitor" to the ball, seeming to approve of her words and actions. And though Elsa perhaps should've taken this gaze as a positive—a compliment, even, on how well she'd conducted herself in front of a man who, until recently, had terrified her—it only made her frown when she remembered it.
Why didn't she tell me he was already there?
That question had been playing on her mind since she'd stalked out of the ballroom, and though she had her theories, none provided particularly satisfying explanations.
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Winter's End
Fanfiction[Frozen; Hans x Elsa.] A year has passed since she lifted the curse of eternal winter, but Elsa—still feeling that some matters have been left unresolved—decides to finally pay a diplomatic visit to the Southern Isles. Notorious for its powerful Que...
