Hans: The Story Behind Frozen's Villain

Chapter 1

Eight year old Prince Hans of the Southern Isles crouched in the corner of the stables. His horse Sitron, his only friend and companion, stood just feet in front of him. Hans could hear his brothers outside. They were searching for him, but not in a loving way. Hans knew they wanted to find him so they could continue with their tourture.

"He's in here, I know it," shouted Erik, the oldest out of all thirteen princes. "He's gonna pay this time."

Hans sank deeper into the mound of hay he sat on, feeling it seep through his red-brown hair and scratch his scalp. He honestly didn't know why his brothers were after him, or what he had done to anger his brothers in such a way. Hans knew he was different from his older brothers; he was the only boy to have a red shade of hair and the lightest sprinkle of freckles across his nose. All the other princes had brown hair of some shade. He also was multiple years younger than everyone else; Erik was already 18 and was almost of age to become an adult. The sibling closest to Hans' age was Finn, who was 11. Finn was three years older than Hans, and hung out with all of the other boys. Hans never heard one nice thing come out from Finn's mouth once. That was why Hans only turned to Sitron or his father for consolence.

Hans discovered Sitron just a year ago. The poor horse was just a pony and none of the other princes wanted him. Hans couldn't resist seeing the pony's huge eyes and beautiful mane, and immediately called him his own. Now Hans came to the stables every day to escape his brothers' wrath.

"I don't get why you're still looking for this 'Hans'," cried John, who was one of the three brothers that acted like Hans was invisible, "I thought I only had eleven other brothers." Hans blinked back tears from behind his blanket of hay. What had he done to be treated this way? Even the queen, Hans' mother, was cold towards him. All he wanted was just to feel like he belonged in his family for once, to......

The hay covering Hans' face was torn off, revealing all twelve of Han's older brothers. Martin, the second oldest and the most strongest, came face-to-face with the now-trembling Hans.

"Please," wailed Hans, "don't hurt me! What did I do to deserve your torture? Why can't you be like normal loving siblings?" Martin laughed.

"Oh Hans," he cooed, taking his hand and placing it on the back of Hans' head, "if only there was someone out there who loved you." Martin swung his fist, colliding with the side of Hans' head, and just like that, Hans was knocked unconsious on the stable floor.